Jen let herself into her apartment, glad she'd not bumped into any of the neighbours. Having looked at herself in the mirror, it was pretty obvious what she'd been up to -- her nipples stood out boldly through her dress material, her hair was a mess, with a few bits of dried grass in it, her lipstick was smeared and as she breathed in there was a the unmistakeable scent of sex still clinging to her skin.
It was even a struggle taking the dress off unaided -- it was sticking to the small of her back, where she had been sweating during her exertions, along with random spots on her side and chest where the brief wipe down Grant had provided had missed the odd spot of cum.
Dropping her dress on in the laundry basket, Jen again looked at herself in the mirror. There was still a flush of arousal over most of her body, but she felt something was missing.
Jen lay herself down on her bed and thought of the fun she'd just had. Yes, it had been a pleasant interlude and had scratched that sexual itch, but only so far. Despite the attention of two hot, virile young men, Jen hadn't had an orgasm -- it had all been over too quickly. Sure, she'd deliberately asked for no foreplay, but she still felt unfulfilled.
Alone on her bed, Jen's hand ran down her smooth belly until it encountered the edge of her trimmed pubes. There was still a residue of sticky cum there, probably from Marc's orgasm. Her fingers moved slightly further south, gently starting to stroke the slick, soft lips of her pussy, still tender form the fucking they had just received and slippery with the mixture of her juices and the guys' cum.
As her arousal grew, Jen slipped first one, then two and eventually three fingers inside her vagina, thrusting in and out furiously, her fingers covered with cum and pussy juice up to her knuckles as she rubbed her clit with her other hand.
God it felt good, yet her mind wasn't on the more recent encounter she'd had but with memories of Bob and her uncle and just how good they had made her feel. Whilst Grant and Marc had certainly been in better shape, they'd not made her feel so good.
After a couple more minutes of this Jen felt her orgasm start the slow journey from her toes towards her groin. Gathering pace and size, the wave swept through her, her skin getting goosebumps all over, her nipples turning rock hard as it hit.
THAT was what she was missing, but as she came down from her orgasm she suddenly began to worry about the forthcoming trip. At least her grandpa had always behaved himself -- he'd never made a pass at either Jen or any of her friends, unlike Uncle Rick, who she had often caught trying to look down her top or up the skirts of her girl friends from school.
Yet Bob had forced the issue last time. Surely he'd accept her word for it that she and grandpa were an item -- after all, she'd proved to be as good as her word on the first trip.
Still pondering the prospect of seeing Bob again, Jen drifted off into a relaxing sleep.
**********
Ten days later Jen and her Grandpa met up at the airport. Jen's designer luggage looked the part as she approached the executive/First Class check-in, even if Grandpa's battered old Samsonite looked like it had seen better days. Still, Jen reflected, he'll pass for an eccentric!
The two of them took their seats in the leather clad luxury of the upstairs of the 747, accepted a glass of champagne and settled down for the flight.
After a couple of hours adjusting to the constant service, both Jen and Grandpa were a little tipsy. Jen reckoned it was about the right time to broach the overall scheme she had devised.
"Grandpa, I need to explain how this is going to work." Jen accepted another glass of Rioja, drew a deep breath and started to explain.
"We are going to stay with a really rich guy I met last time I was in Europe." Jen omitted the details of how she met Bob -- it somehow didn't seem important and might well have changed the mood a bit, and not for the better.
"He likes to gamble, so I have bet that he won't believe how old my latest partner is. So for the next week we are a couple as far as Bob is concerned. Ok?"
Jen's grandfather looked concerned.
"Not in all ways, I trust! I can't accept that!"
"No, but we have to give the impression that we are in a full relationship. Behind closed doors we'll obviously be just the same as always." Jen reassured him.
The rest of the flight was uneventful. Jen reclined her seat to the horizontal and slept for a few hours as the plane crossed the Atlantic.
Grandpa sat, lost deep in thought, thinking about the implications of his recent conversation. He glanced at the sleeping form next to him, then looked quickly away. Jen's blouse had slipped, exposing the top of her bra and some of her right breast to his gaze.
Having checked no-one else was around he adjusted his seat and looked again. Even in the dim cabin lighting, he could see the edge of Jen's areola, her nipple just encased by the lacy edge of her bra. He felt a stirring in his groin as he looked down. Jen had always been his favourite granddaughter, if he was honest because she looked the best as she grew up. He'd often stolen little glances at her as she'd blossomed into womanhood, but would never have behaved inappropriately.
He wished his daughter had believed him when she'd come home early one evening when he was still trusted with baby-sitting to find him with a pair of Jen's panties in his hands. He'd genuinely been loading the washer and had found a pair of panties on the floor as he returned from taking the washing into the cellar. Despite his protests, the relationship with his daughter had never recovered and he was rarely allowed to visit.
Now, looking at her sleeping figure, he realised just what a beauty she had grown into. Just how lucky had the young guys she'd dated been? He thought.
Jen stirred in her sleep, breaking his reverie. He adjusted his own seat and tried to sleep, eventually dozing off about three hours out from Paris.
********
As the two passed from customs a smartly dressed gentleman with a board reading "Hollins" stepped forward to escort them to a waiting Mercedes. Bob had laid on transfers to the TGV train that would take them south to the Riviera.
Skilfully negotiating the Paris traffic they arrived at the station, where once again they were escorted towards the executive suite. Jen was reminded of her last trip and accustomed herself to the luxury quickly, but Grandpa was a little overawed by the whole thing.
Their driver handed Jen an envelope, which contained the tickets for their train journey to the south. Waving goodbye, Jen and her partner followed the porter to the train and took their seats, first class, of course!
Jen tried to settle as the train sped ever southwards. She was sure she could pull this off -- Bob knew she'd slept with Uncle Rick -- Christ, he'd watched them at it and even joined in, so surely he'd trust her word that grandpa was her new partner.