Characters:
Simon, 18 years old: Has recently moved in with his Grandmother so he can go to art school in the city where she lives.
Mackenzie, 20: Simon's Girlfriend. She is a student at the theatre school, and they met as they are both part of the summer theatre production at the University.
Joyce, 59: Simon's Grandmother. A recently retired University Professor, she took an early retirement package rather than deal with the annoyances of university administration. She's now a landscaping consultant, and writes erotica for fun
~~~~~
Joyce smiled, pleased to see the packages on the doorstep as she glided up her bike up the driveway to her front door. She had been half-distracted during her meeting, tracking them until they had been delivered.
After sliding the bike away in the garage and closing the door, she came back around to the front steps and picked up the packages, then went inside. She smiled slyly, seeing the post-it note stuck to the mirror in the front hall.
"Hi Grandma,
I'm out with Mackenzie. Don't have too much fun. I'll be home after dinner.
Hot tub tonight?"
Simon really is a good boy, Joyce thought. Pleased with the surety that she'd have the next several hours to herself, she closed the door, sighted with relaxation, and started to undress, depositing her clothes into the basket tucked into a niche in the front hall. Raising an eyebrow, she noticed that the panties from yesterday's outfit were not where she had left them.
That made.. six? no, seven times in the handful of weeks since Simon had returned from his most recent trip home. Each time, they had appeared in the basket a day or too later, clearly marked with cum or precum. Always a lacy thong or boy shorts. Today's, however, were silk, so Joyce doubted they would disappear.
Putting her shoes away, Joyce noticed that her red patent wedge pumps had reappeared, while a pair of white stiletto slingbacks had disappeared in turn. It was very interesting finding out about Simon's taste in heels by watching which ones he borrowed. Unlike her panties, they never came back marked with cum or precum, so clearly he used them in different ways. If only she could get him to talk about it with her. Not that there was any rush. Her curiosity could wait. Joyce put her hand on the sheer robe on the hanger in the closet, but after a second decided to leave it. After all, it was a nice warm day and then she wouldn't have to replace it later. Plus, she smiled, best to take advantage and go completely nude while she could. Her course up the stairs towards her bedroom at the back of the house was disrupted when she, the top envelope in hand, realised that there was absolutely no reason to restrict her things to her bedroom. With a slight smirk, she instead went to her little library at the back of the house. Tucked into a little niche off the kitchen, it had an extremely good chair, lots of books, and more importantly, it had good windows to the backyard.
With a sly smile, Joyce put on the pair of heels that Simon had returned, then strode confidently to the back of the house.
She trailed her fingers lightly over the back, then the arm of the chair. Her most recent birthday present to herself, she had ordered it with masturbation in mind. Although by no means resigned to having to provide her own orgasms, she had been determined that if she was going to be spending so much time at home after leaving the University, they she was bloody well going to use her home as she pleased, and it pleased her very much to wander into the garden after cumming or vice versa. It wasn't just custom-made, it was a bespoke commission from a local kink craftsman. She had tried several of the models in his shop, and when none had proved quite correct the artisan had taken very careful measurements based on her preferences.
The back was designed to recline, with the arms extending back behind the seat in a complex curve so that no matter the angle, she could rest her elbows on the comfortable padding at exactly the right distance for her to play with her breasts, while simultaneous being designed so she could splay her legs over the arms, or dig her heels into the tops as she wont. Joyce had been delighted to find that this still worked when she was wearing heels, an option Simon's borrowing of her heels inspired and a new pleasure. Even better, the fabric covering was easily removable and washable so she no longer had to take extra precautions to keep herself from squirting. This chair was not merely custom, it was bespoke. And delightfully, it was apparently popular with customers. She definitely enjoyed wondering about the other customers cumming on their Joyces, and their "Joyce 2" benches, eventually, she hoped. But she was still waiting for her own to be delivered. And the artist had hinted at yet a third project, perhaps. Joyce shivered in anticipation. She did so enjoy being a muse, especially a sexual one..