A family affair... Almost.
Chapter 1.
Ok. To set the scene I should stress that this happened a long time ago; 1988 actually, and it was between consenting adults.
I was 19 and had been in the WRNS for about a year. Jim was my step grandfather... stress the step!
My grandmother had passed away three years before; Jim was her second husband. Younger than her and to describe him, I would have to use the word trim. Not that I had any experience of men; just some fumbling in a friend’s bedroom that had led to an ejaculation at my entrance, all over my labia and mound, followed by his quick exit and a short-lived pregnancy panic attack.
He was strong, muscular, no fat on him at all. I say muscular, not the disco muscles of men today, but those gained from hard work. He had worked in a foundry for a lot of his life.
At a family gathering Jim was looking at me quite intently and when we had a moment alone, he came up to me and said that as I had a similar figure to gran perhaps, I would like some of her things.
The thing is, gran was what you would call, ‘elegant’. I’d always knew her as a blonde, obviously later in life it was ‘bottle blonde’ (and don’t worry ladies, it happens to us all… I can attest). It was flattering that he thought so, but I struggled to see how I would pull that off. She always seemed to be ‘wasp-waisted’ too, if you follow.
The next Saturday on which I was free, I went over to visit him. He showed me in, and whilst we were having tea, he offered me a cigarette. He smiled, and said that he knew I smoked by the way I was looking at others at the party… I’d not told anyone.
I took one and he lit it for me. As I blew out the smoke, he said I looked just like her. After, he invited me up to the bedroom to look over her wardrobe and drawers; extensive.
We went into the master bedroom. There were so many lovely dresses, shoes and jewels, jump suits, ‘power suits’, legwarmers, and a ra-ra skirt. There were even, fur coats, gloves and hats. The drawers were full of lingerie with slips, basques and corsets and old-fashioned stockings with many items unworn. Gran had style!
He, himself had moved into a smaller bedroom. He said it just didn’t feel right without her and all her belongings. Which in part is why he was giving them away.
He asked me if I would ‘model’ some of them for him. Feeling a little self-conscious I eventually said OK and he picked out a few dresses of various styles for me to try. It wasn’t exactly a catwalk scenario, but he sat in the living room, whilst I walked in and out from the dining room showing him some of his choices. Even ones with long thigh splits… you go gran!
Look, he said, some of these things are far too good to sit in a wardrobe or stay indoors. Let me take you out to dinner; a posh place.
I was a bit taken aback, but I agreed.
I took all the clothes upstairs and hung them up. Gosh, what to wear. I picked out a nice dress in dark green. Hair up in a style that we’d now say was so 80s.
I was going to wear my own underwear but some of her things looked so beautiful. I opted for a front fastening, half cup, balconette style bra that just covered my nipples with matching panties. I saw a suitable suspender belt. I was going to wear the seamed stockings but they just looked wrong with the seams all over the place so I opted for black micronet fishnet.
I finished it off with some shoes; black courts, I guess the Americans call them pumps. 80's high heel. Not the stripper ones of today but higher than I wore for work… And actual diamond earrings!
He was wearing a nice suit with matching tie and handkerchief. We had a lovely time, mostly chatting. Him complementing me on the look. How I reminded him of her and of some of the things they had done. On the way back he offered to put me up for the night. As my parents were on holiday there was no point in going home so I accepted his offer. She had a wide range of sleepwear too; I picked a cream silky nightdress.
The next morning, he brought me a tea and offered to make breakfast and whilst we were eating, he asked me if I would like to do it again sometime.
I agreed to this second 'date'. Over the next week at work, I thought things over and I made an appointment at the hair salon and asked for my hair to be styled like hers. Lots of ribbing from the boys at work about my new blonde look.
Chapter 2.
A similar arrangement to the first one. Yet somehow, I felt 'freer' (more free) to explore her wardrobe. He also asked me if I would wear her perfume and use her cigarette holder.
I picked a black off the shoulder dress. Shorter than the green one but long enough that I could still wear stockings.
That night he treated me more like a date, if that makes sense. Leaning in closer, hand on my arm or small of my back. Very gentlemanly.
There was a couple staring at us. Questioning the age gap, I suppose. He whispered to me; shall we have some fun with them? I nodded but was unsure what he meant. Then he leaned in and kissed me. They looked away.
That kiss gave me a tingle. Something small and deep inside. (The women will understand). We finished dinner and headed back to his house.
We had some wine back at the house. I was more used to pomagne, babycham and white wine spritzers at this time, so the glass of red wine from the meal and sherry I had at home really was going to my head.
I went to stand and wobbled on my heels. He caught my elbow and steadied me. He looked me in the eyes and said that he enjoyed that kiss. He leaned in and kissed me again. I responded. Head in a whirl.
He kissed me and placed his hands on my ass. Feeling the suspenders. He said I hoped you were wearing them. I smiled and said that I had worn them the previous date and that I wear them for work too.
I could feel his erection pressing on me. He kissed my neck. Always a weakness for me to this day.
He picked me up and moved me to the master bedroom, pausing at the door; I think to give me time to say no.
He kissed down my neck again and then down to my chest. I gasped when he freed up my boobs. Embarrassed as I only had small breasts. Like a small B cup and I’d had to use a couple of small handkerchiefs to pad myself; gran had been a bit bigger.
He held my arms and sucked on my nipples. As soon as he started sucking on my nipples, I knew.
He eased the dress off me to the floor and quickly undressed too, down to his boxer shorts.
I lay back on the bed and he removed my panties, giving a small gasp when he saw my bush.
Kneeling next to me, he went down on me. I never had that happen before and his tongue exploring me felt amazing, creating waves of pleasure. As an aside, to this point, I didn’t even masturbate. I had heard other girls talk about it but to be honest, I thought it was some sort of wind up.
He rose and placed himself between my legs.
I seemed to instinctively know what to do. Opening up to take him, and he was a big boy. He held open my labia as he pushed in. It felt huge. Like stretching and tearing, but in a good way. I remember raising my legs to wrap round him. Slipping due to the stockings. Then crossing my feet.
I remember thinking, "This is what it feels like to be a woman." The ecstasy.
After what seemed like a pleasurable eternity, I could feel him tensing up. Then the release. Like I was being flooded.
After a pause he rolled off me, panting. He said something about not being able to help himself.
He asked if him cumming in me was a problem.
It wasn't. Although I booked in to get a coil fitted on Monday morning.
I reached down to feel the cum soaking my bush. I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the bottom of the bed. Stocking covered legs, still in my shoes… like a porn star.
After some time where I wanted to move but just didn’t want to break the moment. He turned to me and said “Again?”
I nodded. He edged towards me and I instinctively reached out to his now waned erection. I took him in my mouth. He showed me how to squeeze his balls, wank the base and eat the tip. It felt fantastic. I have always loved the taste of combined juices. It was amazing on the second time too. We tried a couple of positions including doggy with his strong hands on my hips. I found I liked being used as a receptacle, if that makes sense.
I removed the shoes and stockings and washed myself. I found I was comfortable just being nude around him. We smoked and chatted including some of the things they had done as a couple. I didn’t feel jealous, just curious. From what he told me I guess gran was probably the first woman in our family to go topless; San Tropez in the 70s, then later in her own back garden.
He remarked that he was surprised at my bush as gran was one of the early shavers and that all young women did it. I told him from what I had seen in the showers that it wasn’t true.
I told him I had dabbled in shaving a few years before but gave up three months before I joined the WRNS; to fit in, as it were.
Chapter 3.
Over the next two weeks at work, where I didn’t get chance to go home; if fate hadn’t played enough of a hand a couple of incidents occurred.
The first was that two girls from Plymouth had been sent up for a short-term draft, (I was based in Scotland at the time). I loved being based there, but I was envious of the time they could spend sunbathing; topless in some of the quiet coves.
They were very friendly and chatty, inviting me out on a Saturday if I showed them the shopping centres of Glasgow. That evening we were getting ready to go out on the town when I walked into the showers to find them both in there, chatting away, one shaving her pubic mound to a triangle and the other totally bare.
It wasn’t the look, I had seen that before, it was the casual confidence they had amongst the couple of other girls in there. We had a lovely evening and the girls headed home on the following Wednesday.
The following weekend, I was ’duty’. It is fairly boring as it’s not the most exciting place at the weekend. The best thing about it was the quartermasters who lived in the basement of the main building who would chat you up no end, with harmless flirting, that we all laughed about and sometimes played up to. God, can you imagine. They’d have been jailed these days!
However, it was on this weekend that on a set of rounds with a Third Officer, we came across a room with a massive stash of porn magazines; Fiesta, Knave, E*****, Parade. I only remember the names to tease my future husband.
She flicked though one of them, said ‘disgusting’ and walked on.
Back in my room, I got curious. I got dressed and went back to the room. Flicking through the magazines in the dark, I couldn’t see what the problem was. I went back to my room and got a holdall.
I returned and placed all the magazines in the bag. Locking my door, I started flicking through them. I quickly came to the conclusion that the ‘disgusting’ comment was because several of the pages were ‘stuck’ shut.
Apart from the pictures which, by the way, didn’t arouse me, I found I enjoyed some of the stories and I was so in awe of the ‘Readers Wives’. Brave women.
What did strike me though was the increasing absence of full bushes. Older magazines had them, newer ones didn’t. Then I came across a magazine ‘Shaven Havens’, a magazine dedicated to it. Women proudly displaying everything.
Chapter 4.
The following weekend, I did manage to get home but as we were having a family barbecue gathering there were no bedrooms available to stay. Handily, Jim offered to put me up.
I locked myself in the ensuite and took out some nail scissors. I carefully removed the main mass of hair. Looking at myself in the mirror, I put on some foam and rubbed it in. Taking a deep breath, I drew the fresh razor down the middle of my mound. Moving my hands to tighten the skin, I worked the razor down over my labia and worked it round to my ass. I washed it off, then went over the stragglers.
I showered and patted myself dry, putting on some cocoa butter that I had seen the girls use.
I looked at myself in the mirror. Removing that thing that made me womanly, but completely exposing my adult vulva.
After drying my hair, and doing my makeup, I put on my outfit. I was still a little itchy so I made a decision.
Jim was standing at the bottom of the stairs. I had chosen a boob tube (daring, but if you’ve got small boobs, why not) in pink with a red ra-ra skirt and red high heels.
He looked up, doing the double take I had hoped for. “I can see your pussy, and where have your pubes gone!”
“Like it?” I asked, walking down the stairs and raising the hem of my skirt when my pussy was at eye level.
He leaned forward and kissed my bare mound, “Yes”. His tongue flicking between my lips. “Later”, I replied.
On the drive over he was obviously excited but also worried for me. There was a lot of my family there and he was concerned about accidental flashing. I reached into my bag and showed him a light cream G string. “Just in case” I said.
The afternoon was lovely. Jim keeping just the right amount of distance, and mum clucking about my outfit. Dad pretending not to see… like they all do.
There was a little bit of drama when I spilt some tomato ketchup on the hem of my dress and an aunt made to grab it to wipe it off. I held the hem down and ‘scandal’ was avoided.
On the drive back, Jim said that he had been thinking about me being hairless and without knickers all afternoon. That he was hard and wanted me. I remembered something I had read in one of the magazine stories. Applying lippy in the vanity mirror, I asked him if he would drive up to a country park.
We pulled in to a quiet layby, and I reached across and unzipped him. He immediately became hard. I leaned over and took him in my mouth. He had released my boobs from the tube. I could feel him twitch. Then the saltiness of precum then the explosion. I swallowed my first ‘load’.
Sitting back up, straightening myself out I asked “What did gran call it, you know, the pussy?”
He hesitated. “It depended, sometimes, pussy, sometimes ‘honeypot’, occasionally ‘quim’ or ‘venus’ but when she was really horny… cunt.”
He was embarrassed to say the word, I knew. I assured him it was ok and I had heard far worse. Mostly from some of the girls at work.
We got back home and had a reasonably quiet time. He couldn’t resist trying to grope me though.
I fended him of until later that evening. Then I walked over to him, (taking all my strength not to giggle) took his hand, looked him in the eye and said, “Come upstairs, lick my quim, I want that big cock in my cunt.”
He practically dragged me upstairs. He spent ages exploring my baldness before fucking me hard. Imploring me to keep it that way.
Chapter 5.
Gosh. The cheers and whistles that greeted me when I walked into the shower on Monday morning.
I was nervous in a way. Worried the girls would mention it to their boyfriends who in turn... you follow.
I was also worried about how this thing with Jim was playing out. An affair with my own grandfather!
Weekend by weekend our relationship developed. Not always sex but it was always available.
It was a glorious summer, with several weekends just laying out sunbathing in the secluded garden at the back of his house. Let’s just say gran wasn’t the only woman to avoid tan lines.
We even had a weekend away in Edinburgh. Dinner, shows, visiting the castle. He brought up loads of clothes for me to try and I even got the hang of FF stockings.
Feeling very glam at the evening meals. Late one evening I even brought the term ‘All fur coat and no knickers’ to The Royal Mile
.
When it did happen, the sex was amazing. Jim opened my eyes to so much. I learned that it wasn’t ‘dirty’ if it was loving.
Towards autumn, I received a new draft (posting), back to Portsmouth before a year’s draft to Gibraltar.
I was very tearful when I told him, but he was so kind. He said he wouldn’t push it, and he expected me not to. If I met someone else, I should say so. In the ensuing months I did meet someone else, that didn’t last although he showed me some things that would have shocked my younger self.
I also met my future husband for the first time. Well, he says we met, I’m not convinced. He didn’t leave that sort of impression although the timelines do match.
If you’re curious, the pubic shaving fad was rife in Gibraltar and when I returned to the UK it became apparent that it really had caught on here too.
During the later times when I was single, I did get together with Jim once or twice. Still wonderful although age was catching up with him.
After my marriage; and I wore ffs under my wedding dress in his honour, he would send cards, on anniversaries and birthdays and was genuinely thrilled when I got pregnant. Nobody in the family ever knew.
He passed away before my son was born. We gave him the middle name James.
Ok. To set the scene I should stress that this happened a long time ago; 1988 actually, and it was between consenting adults.
I was 19 and had been in the WRNS for about a year. Jim was my step grandfather... stress the step!
My grandmother had passed away three years before; Jim was her second husband. Younger than her and to describe him, I would have to use the word trim. Not that I had any experience of men; just some fumbling in a friend’s bedroom that had led to an ejaculation at my entrance, all over my labia and mound, followed by his quick exit and a short-lived pregnancy panic attack.
He was strong, muscular, no fat on him at all. I say muscular, not the disco muscles of men today, but those gained from hard work. He had worked in a foundry for a lot of his life.
At a family gathering Jim was looking at me quite intently and when we had a moment alone, he came up to me and said that as I had a similar figure to gran perhaps, I would like some of her things.
The thing is, gran was what you would call, ‘elegant’. I’d always knew her as a blonde, obviously later in life it was ‘bottle blonde’ (and don’t worry ladies, it happens to us all… I can attest). It was flattering that he thought so, but I struggled to see how I would pull that off. She always seemed to be ‘wasp-waisted’ too, if you follow.
The next Saturday on which I was free, I went over to visit him. He showed me in, and whilst we were having tea, he offered me a cigarette. He smiled, and said that he knew I smoked by the way I was looking at others at the party… I’d not told anyone.
I took one and he lit it for me. As I blew out the smoke, he said I looked just like her. After, he invited me up to the bedroom to look over her wardrobe and drawers; extensive.
We went into the master bedroom. There were so many lovely dresses, shoes and jewels, jump suits, ‘power suits’, legwarmers, and a ra-ra skirt. There were even, fur coats, gloves and hats. The drawers were full of lingerie with slips, basques and corsets and old-fashioned stockings with many items unworn. Gran had style!
He, himself had moved into a smaller bedroom. He said it just didn’t feel right without her and all her belongings. Which in part is why he was giving them away.
He asked me if I would ‘model’ some of them for him. Feeling a little self-conscious I eventually said OK and he picked out a few dresses of various styles for me to try. It wasn’t exactly a catwalk scenario, but he sat in the living room, whilst I walked in and out from the dining room showing him some of his choices. Even ones with long thigh splits… you go gran!
Look, he said, some of these things are far too good to sit in a wardrobe or stay indoors. Let me take you out to dinner; a posh place.
I was a bit taken aback, but I agreed.
I took all the clothes upstairs and hung them up. Gosh, what to wear. I picked out a nice dress in dark green. Hair up in a style that we’d now say was so 80s.
I was going to wear my own underwear but some of her things looked so beautiful. I opted for a front fastening, half cup, balconette style bra that just covered my nipples with matching panties. I saw a suitable suspender belt. I was going to wear the seamed stockings but they just looked wrong with the seams all over the place so I opted for black micronet fishnet.
I finished it off with some shoes; black courts, I guess the Americans call them pumps. 80's high heel. Not the stripper ones of today but higher than I wore for work… And actual diamond earrings!
He was wearing a nice suit with matching tie and handkerchief. We had a lovely time, mostly chatting. Him complementing me on the look. How I reminded him of her and of some of the things they had done. On the way back he offered to put me up for the night. As my parents were on holiday there was no point in going home so I accepted his offer. She had a wide range of sleepwear too; I picked a cream silky nightdress.
The next morning, he brought me a tea and offered to make breakfast and whilst we were eating, he asked me if I would like to do it again sometime.
I agreed to this second 'date'. Over the next week at work, I thought things over and I made an appointment at the hair salon and asked for my hair to be styled like hers. Lots of ribbing from the boys at work about my new blonde look.
Chapter 2.
A similar arrangement to the first one. Yet somehow, I felt 'freer' (more free) to explore her wardrobe. He also asked me if I would wear her perfume and use her cigarette holder.
I picked a black off the shoulder dress. Shorter than the green one but long enough that I could still wear stockings.
That night he treated me more like a date, if that makes sense. Leaning in closer, hand on my arm or small of my back. Very gentlemanly.
There was a couple staring at us. Questioning the age gap, I suppose. He whispered to me; shall we have some fun with them? I nodded but was unsure what he meant. Then he leaned in and kissed me. They looked away.
That kiss gave me a tingle. Something small and deep inside. (The women will understand). We finished dinner and headed back to his house.
We had some wine back at the house. I was more used to pomagne, babycham and white wine spritzers at this time, so the glass of red wine from the meal and sherry I had at home really was going to my head.
I went to stand and wobbled on my heels. He caught my elbow and steadied me. He looked me in the eyes and said that he enjoyed that kiss. He leaned in and kissed me again. I responded. Head in a whirl.
He kissed me and placed his hands on my ass. Feeling the suspenders. He said I hoped you were wearing them. I smiled and said that I had worn them the previous date and that I wear them for work too.
I could feel his erection pressing on me. He kissed my neck. Always a weakness for me to this day.
He picked me up and moved me to the master bedroom, pausing at the door; I think to give me time to say no.
He kissed down my neck again and then down to my chest. I gasped when he freed up my boobs. Embarrassed as I only had small breasts. Like a small B cup and I’d had to use a couple of small handkerchiefs to pad myself; gran had been a bit bigger.
He held my arms and sucked on my nipples. As soon as he started sucking on my nipples, I knew.
He eased the dress off me to the floor and quickly undressed too, down to his boxer shorts.
I lay back on the bed and he removed my panties, giving a small gasp when he saw my bush.
Kneeling next to me, he went down on me. I never had that happen before and his tongue exploring me felt amazing, creating waves of pleasure. As an aside, to this point, I didn’t even masturbate. I had heard other girls talk about it but to be honest, I thought it was some sort of wind up.
He rose and placed himself between my legs.
I seemed to instinctively know what to do. Opening up to take him, and he was a big boy. He held open my labia as he pushed in. It felt huge. Like stretching and tearing, but in a good way. I remember raising my legs to wrap round him. Slipping due to the stockings. Then crossing my feet.
I remember thinking, "This is what it feels like to be a woman." The ecstasy.
After what seemed like a pleasurable eternity, I could feel him tensing up. Then the release. Like I was being flooded.
After a pause he rolled off me, panting. He said something about not being able to help himself.
He asked if him cumming in me was a problem.
It wasn't. Although I booked in to get a coil fitted on Monday morning.
I reached down to feel the cum soaking my bush. I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the bottom of the bed. Stocking covered legs, still in my shoes… like a porn star.
After some time where I wanted to move but just didn’t want to break the moment. He turned to me and said “Again?”
I nodded. He edged towards me and I instinctively reached out to his now waned erection. I took him in my mouth. He showed me how to squeeze his balls, wank the base and eat the tip. It felt fantastic. I have always loved the taste of combined juices. It was amazing on the second time too. We tried a couple of positions including doggy with his strong hands on my hips. I found I liked being used as a receptacle, if that makes sense.
I removed the shoes and stockings and washed myself. I found I was comfortable just being nude around him. We smoked and chatted including some of the things they had done as a couple. I didn’t feel jealous, just curious. From what he told me I guess gran was probably the first woman in our family to go topless; San Tropez in the 70s, then later in her own back garden.
He remarked that he was surprised at my bush as gran was one of the early shavers and that all young women did it. I told him from what I had seen in the showers that it wasn’t true.
I told him I had dabbled in shaving a few years before but gave up three months before I joined the WRNS; to fit in, as it were.
Chapter 3.
Over the next two weeks at work, where I didn’t get chance to go home; if fate hadn’t played enough of a hand a couple of incidents occurred.
The first was that two girls from Plymouth had been sent up for a short-term draft, (I was based in Scotland at the time). I loved being based there, but I was envious of the time they could spend sunbathing; topless in some of the quiet coves.
They were very friendly and chatty, inviting me out on a Saturday if I showed them the shopping centres of Glasgow. That evening we were getting ready to go out on the town when I walked into the showers to find them both in there, chatting away, one shaving her pubic mound to a triangle and the other totally bare.
It wasn’t the look, I had seen that before, it was the casual confidence they had amongst the couple of other girls in there. We had a lovely evening and the girls headed home on the following Wednesday.
The following weekend, I was ’duty’. It is fairly boring as it’s not the most exciting place at the weekend. The best thing about it was the quartermasters who lived in the basement of the main building who would chat you up no end, with harmless flirting, that we all laughed about and sometimes played up to. God, can you imagine. They’d have been jailed these days!
However, it was on this weekend that on a set of rounds with a Third Officer, we came across a room with a massive stash of porn magazines; Fiesta, Knave, E*****, Parade. I only remember the names to tease my future husband.
She flicked though one of them, said ‘disgusting’ and walked on.
Back in my room, I got curious. I got dressed and went back to the room. Flicking through the magazines in the dark, I couldn’t see what the problem was. I went back to my room and got a holdall.
I returned and placed all the magazines in the bag. Locking my door, I started flicking through them. I quickly came to the conclusion that the ‘disgusting’ comment was because several of the pages were ‘stuck’ shut.
Apart from the pictures which, by the way, didn’t arouse me, I found I enjoyed some of the stories and I was so in awe of the ‘Readers Wives’. Brave women.
What did strike me though was the increasing absence of full bushes. Older magazines had them, newer ones didn’t. Then I came across a magazine ‘Shaven Havens’, a magazine dedicated to it. Women proudly displaying everything.
Chapter 4.
The following weekend, I did manage to get home but as we were having a family barbecue gathering there were no bedrooms available to stay. Handily, Jim offered to put me up.
I locked myself in the ensuite and took out some nail scissors. I carefully removed the main mass of hair. Looking at myself in the mirror, I put on some foam and rubbed it in. Taking a deep breath, I drew the fresh razor down the middle of my mound. Moving my hands to tighten the skin, I worked the razor down over my labia and worked it round to my ass. I washed it off, then went over the stragglers.
I showered and patted myself dry, putting on some cocoa butter that I had seen the girls use.
I looked at myself in the mirror. Removing that thing that made me womanly, but completely exposing my adult vulva.
After drying my hair, and doing my makeup, I put on my outfit. I was still a little itchy so I made a decision.
Jim was standing at the bottom of the stairs. I had chosen a boob tube (daring, but if you’ve got small boobs, why not) in pink with a red ra-ra skirt and red high heels.
He looked up, doing the double take I had hoped for. “I can see your pussy, and where have your pubes gone!”
“Like it?” I asked, walking down the stairs and raising the hem of my skirt when my pussy was at eye level.
He leaned forward and kissed my bare mound, “Yes”. His tongue flicking between my lips. “Later”, I replied.
On the drive over he was obviously excited but also worried for me. There was a lot of my family there and he was concerned about accidental flashing. I reached into my bag and showed him a light cream G string. “Just in case” I said.
The afternoon was lovely. Jim keeping just the right amount of distance, and mum clucking about my outfit. Dad pretending not to see… like they all do.
There was a little bit of drama when I spilt some tomato ketchup on the hem of my dress and an aunt made to grab it to wipe it off. I held the hem down and ‘scandal’ was avoided.
On the drive back, Jim said that he had been thinking about me being hairless and without knickers all afternoon. That he was hard and wanted me. I remembered something I had read in one of the magazine stories. Applying lippy in the vanity mirror, I asked him if he would drive up to a country park.
We pulled in to a quiet layby, and I reached across and unzipped him. He immediately became hard. I leaned over and took him in my mouth. He had released my boobs from the tube. I could feel him twitch. Then the saltiness of precum then the explosion. I swallowed my first ‘load’.
Sitting back up, straightening myself out I asked “What did gran call it, you know, the pussy?”
He hesitated. “It depended, sometimes, pussy, sometimes ‘honeypot’, occasionally ‘quim’ or ‘venus’ but when she was really horny… cunt.”
He was embarrassed to say the word, I knew. I assured him it was ok and I had heard far worse. Mostly from some of the girls at work.
We got back home and had a reasonably quiet time. He couldn’t resist trying to grope me though.
I fended him of until later that evening. Then I walked over to him, (taking all my strength not to giggle) took his hand, looked him in the eye and said, “Come upstairs, lick my quim, I want that big cock in my cunt.”
He practically dragged me upstairs. He spent ages exploring my baldness before fucking me hard. Imploring me to keep it that way.
Chapter 5.
Gosh. The cheers and whistles that greeted me when I walked into the shower on Monday morning.
I was nervous in a way. Worried the girls would mention it to their boyfriends who in turn... you follow.
I was also worried about how this thing with Jim was playing out. An affair with my own grandfather!
Weekend by weekend our relationship developed. Not always sex but it was always available.
It was a glorious summer, with several weekends just laying out sunbathing in the secluded garden at the back of his house. Let’s just say gran wasn’t the only woman to avoid tan lines.
We even had a weekend away in Edinburgh. Dinner, shows, visiting the castle. He brought up loads of clothes for me to try and I even got the hang of FF stockings.
Feeling very glam at the evening meals. Late one evening I even brought the term ‘All fur coat and no knickers’ to The Royal Mile
.
When it did happen, the sex was amazing. Jim opened my eyes to so much. I learned that it wasn’t ‘dirty’ if it was loving.
Towards autumn, I received a new draft (posting), back to Portsmouth before a year’s draft to Gibraltar.
I was very tearful when I told him, but he was so kind. He said he wouldn’t push it, and he expected me not to. If I met someone else, I should say so. In the ensuing months I did meet someone else, that didn’t last although he showed me some things that would have shocked my younger self.
I also met my future husband for the first time. Well, he says we met, I’m not convinced. He didn’t leave that sort of impression although the timelines do match.
If you’re curious, the pubic shaving fad was rife in Gibraltar and when I returned to the UK it became apparent that it really had caught on here too.
During the later times when I was single, I did get together with Jim once or twice. Still wonderful although age was catching up with him.
After my marriage; and I wore ffs under my wedding dress in his honour, he would send cards, on anniversaries and birthdays and was genuinely thrilled when I got pregnant. Nobody in the family ever knew.
He passed away before my son was born. We gave him the middle name James.
1 год назад
