This is the final sequel to 'The Old Fellah Needs a Hand' which concludes the story of an eighteen year-old girl's frolics with the neighbour she calls Gramps and her actual Grandpa, both in their eighties. Out of all the stories I've written, this one has been closest to my heart. I hope you enjoy it.
***
I was glad that Gramp's flat wasn't on another level of our apartment block, the skimpy tight dress I wore meant that to walk up or down a flight of stairs would've given anyone passing a close up view of my snatch. I had to keep yanking my hem down to cover my bum as I walked along, wishing I'd worn a longer jacket. I'd bought the mini-dress from a mail-order catalogue and had no idea it was so revealing until I tried it on in my bedroom; I'd never had the guts to wear it outside until today. Today was going to be a special day. The dress had a spring flower print in floral reds and I was wearing dark plum coloured hold-ups with beautiful lacy tops. I hated wearing heels so I had just slipped into my scruffy Converse boots. I didn't think anyone would mind.
I let myself into Gramp's place and found them both looking very relaxed in his lounge.
"Phew-whee, lookit you!" Gramps said, ogling me.
I crossed my arms and snarled, "I'm annoyed with you."
"Aw, c'mon sweetheart, I-"
"Are you crazy!? Sending dirty pictures of me to members of my family? What were thinking?"
"Just one member, him."
"We had discussed it," Grandpa said.
"Oh, had you!" I was indignant but I wasn't exactly sure why.
"I wouldn't have done it if there'd been any chance of-"
"What if someone else had seen them? My Nana, my Mum!?"
"You were wearing a mask, babe. Remember?"
I lapsed into silence. Gramps and Grandpa exchanged glances.
"I'm going to give you some space," Gramps huffed his hefty body up out of his armchair, "Gotta go shopping anyway, I got the munchies."
They both chuckled. When Gramps had gone, Grandpa remained on the sofa, watching me with a broad smile on his face.
"I resent being manipulated," I said.
"Of course you do. Anyone would."
"It's not that I didn't like how it worked out..."
"You look very nice. Very nice. Very... sophisticated. Elegant."
I pulled off my jacket and tried to climb down from the unreasonable height of my ire. Grandpa stood up and held me from behind, his arms wound around my belly.
"You are so beautiful," his voice was dangerously soft, like the snake in Disney's Jungle Book, "We both thought you wanted this, but that maybe you couldn't admit it to yourself. So we... we nudged you along, that's all."
"You're a right couple of playas, ain'tcha?"
There was quiet jazz playing, the room had a smoky haze lingering in the afternoon sun. I recognised the scent.
"Are you both high?"
Grandpa chuckled, "I had to steady my nerves, meeting you is, is, well, a date with a fantastically attractive young lady doesn't happen every day."
His kissed my neck. His hands began to roam over my body.
"You didn't think grass was invented yesterday, did you? I've been smoking Mary Jane since I was younger than you are now. It goes with the jazz."
"What's this playing?"
"Baby, this is Coltrane."
"Is cold train different to jazz?"
"Don't worry about what it's called, just let the tones flood over you, ride the music, feel the the flow of the notes he's blowing."
It was undoubtedly romantic music, I swayed gently with my Grandpa to the weird, changing rhythms that you couldn't quite catch. He fondled my breasts and, being careful with my dress, he pulled the straps down off my shoulders and rolled the dress down until my boobs were bared. I heard him gasp hot breath in my ear as his rough, strong fingers held my naked boobs.
"Oh my," he purred.
I closed my eyes and danced slowly to the atmospheric old-fashioned instruments. His hands toyed with boobs and my nipples were soon stiffly erect and sensitive to his playful touches, sending shivers of weird feelings running through the length of my entire body. Should I be doing this? I kept asking myself. I'd known this man all my life.
His hands strayed south and I smiled, knowing there was a naughty surprise in store for him. He wiggled up the hem of my dress so it was even shorter and his probing, exploring fingers soon discovered my lack of underwear; he dipped a single finger deep into my juicy pussy.
"Mm, you devil you," he kissed me as he molested me deliciously, "No bra and no knickers, you little hussy."
I turned so I could kiss him properly, he pushed two fingers up inside me as our tongues danced in a sloppy intimate smooch.
I took a breath from our passionate kiss and asked, "What
would you like to do first?"
I watched him ruminate on the many possibilities.
"Do you wanna eat me?" I suggested.
A wide grin spread across his face.
"You remembered, that I've never done that."
"Not even with the sex workers?"
"The who?"
"The prostitutes, Grandpa."
"Oh, shit, honey, a whore's cooze is the last place you'd want to lick, believe me."
I pulled a face of disgust as he chortled and sat back down.
"Come to me, bring your sweet sugar over here, angel."
I kicked off my sneakers and climbed up on the sofa, standing on the cushions so my cooze (what a cool word!) was level with his face. I brought my body closer as his hands ran up and down my smooth, soft, dark purple nylons. Feeling extremely shameless, I rubbed my sloppy cunt on my grandfather's face.