Amy tugged at the hem of her already short denim skirt, the fabric doing little to provide comfort against the summer heat clinging to her legs. The low-cut tank top, a faded black number she’d impulsively bought last week, felt even more daring under the scrutinizing gaze of her own reflection. Eighteen, legal, and finally free to make her own choices, that’s what she kept telling herself.
She heard her mom, Carol, call from the kitchen. “Amy, are you sure about this? I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Amy sighed, turning away from the mirror. “Mom, we’ve been over this. It’s Granddad. He’s family. I haven’t seen him in… well, years.”
Carol emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her face was etched with worry, lines deepening around her mouth. “That’s because there’s a reason you haven’t seen him, honey. He’s… he’s not a good influence. He’s…obsessed.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Obsessed with what? Old people stuff? Bingo and daytime TV?”
Carol’s voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper. “No, Amy. Obsessed with that. With sex. Always has been. Your grandmother… well, it wasn’t a happy marriage, to say the least.”
Amy shifted uncomfortably. She’d heard whispers, of course. Vague, hushed conversations between her mom and aunts whenever Granddad’s name came up. But she’d always dismissed it as just old-fashioned family gossip, exaggeration piled upon exaggeration over the years.
“Mom, he’s eighty-one. He can’t be that obsessed.” Amy folded her arms which pushed her tits up.
“Don’t underestimate him,” Carol said, her eyes filled with a kind of weary knowing. “He’s… persistent. And he says things. He looks at you… I don’t like it. Especially not with what you’re wearing with your tits nearly hanging out.” She gestured pointedly at Amy’s outfit.
Amy bristled. “So, now you’re blaming me? I can’t even visit my own grandfather without being accused of… of what? Leading him on? That’s ridiculous!”
“I’m not blaming you, Amy. I’m warning you. Please, just… be careful. Don’t be alone with him. And for God’s sake, maybe change your clothes?”
Amy grabbed her backpack from the floor. “I’m going. I’ll be fine. And I’m not changing.”
She slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing through the small house. As she walked towards the bus stop, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. Her mom’s words, the raw fear in her eyes, had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. But deep down the thought of a much older man like her granddad wanting her turned her on.
The bus ride was long and hot, the vinyl seats sticking uncomfortably to her bare legs. She stared out the window, watching the familiar landscape of her town give way to the more rural scenery surrounding her grandfather’s house.
She hadn’t seen him since she was maybe ten? She remembered a gruff, imposing figure with a booming voice and hands that always seemed too big. He’d always smelled of tobacco and something vaguely medicinal. She couldn’t recall any real connection with him, just a vague discomfort and a sense of being watched.
The bus finally pulled up to the stop closest to his house – a small, weathered building situated a good distance from anything resembling a town. The house itself was even more dilapidated than she remembered. The paint was peeling, the porch sagged precariously, and the yard was overgrown with weeds.
She hesitated for a moment, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe this was a mistake. But she’d come this far. She couldn’t just turn around now.
Taking a deep breath, she walked up the overgrown path and knocked on the door.
It took a while, but eventually, the door creaked open, revealing a figure even more frail and stooped than she’d imagined. Her grandfather, James, stood blinking in the doorway, his face a roadmap of wrinkles and age spots. His eyes, though, were still sharp, still… assessing.
“Amy?” he rasped, his voice thin and reedy. “Is that really you?”
“Hi, Granddad,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “It’s me.”
A slow, unsettling smile spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Come in, come in. Don’t just stand there.”
He shuffled back, allowing her to enter the house as he checked her out and his eyes on her ass. The air inside was thick with the smell of dust, mothballs, and something vaguely unpleasant she couldn’t quite place. The furniture was old and worn, covered in layers of dust. The whole place felt… stagnant.
“So, you decided to visit the old man, eh?” he said, his eyes lingering on her legs.
Amy ignored the look. “Yeah, well, I thought it was time. How have you been?”
“Surviving,” he chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. “That’s about all an old man can do these days. Surviving.” He gestured towards a worn armchair. “Sit down, sit down. Let me get a good look at you.”
Amy sat, feeling increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze. He stared at her, his eyes moving from her face to her chest and then back again. It was a deliberate, unsettling appraisal.
“You’ve grown up,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “You’ve become a… a very attractive young woman.”
“Thanks, Granddad,” she said, as she lent forward as her loose tank top showed him her cleavage, she saw him staring. “Do you like my top?”
His eyes snapped up to meet hers, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “It’s… appropriate,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “For a young woman like you.”
Amy shifted, feeling a strange mix of discomfort and… something else. A kind of perverse satisfaction. She knew what she was doing, how she was presenting herself. It wasn’t entirely innocent. Deep down, she enjoyed the attention, especially from older men. It made her feel powerful, desired. It was a game, and she was usually very good at playing it.
“So,” she said, changing the subject, “what do you do all day?”
He chuckled. “What do you think? I sit here and wait to die. Watch TV, read the newspaper. The occasional visit from the home nurse. Exciting stuff.”
“Don’t you get lonely?” Amy said as she sat there looking at him.
“Lonely?” He considered this for a moment, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Sometimes. But I have my… memories. They keep me company.”
Amy instinctively knew those memories weren’t of baking cookies with grandma.
The afternoon stretched on, filled with stilted conversation and awkward silences. Amy asked polite questions about his health, his hobbies (or lack thereof), his life. He answered in short, clipped sentences, his eyes always returning to her body, his mind in the gutter. The tension in the room was palpable, a thick, suffocating presence.
He seemed to perk up when lunchtime arrived. “I’ll make us some sandwiches,” he said, shuffling towards the kitchen. “You like bologna, right?”
Amy wrinkled her nose. “Uh, sure, Granddad.”
As he was in the kitchen Amy snuck and had a look around the place, the place was a mess and smelt, she had a look at some old photos of a beautiful young woman who was her grandma he had got with age.
She followed him and watched him make the sandwiches. His hands trembled as he spread the mustard, his movements slow and deliberate. He kept glancing at her, a strange light in his eyes.
“So,” he said, his voice low, “you got a boyfriend?”
Amy hesitated. “Not really. I mean, there’s this guy at school, but it’s not serious. Just a fuck buddy really.” She purposely left it vague, wanting to see his reaction.
He didn’t disappoint. A spark of something – interest, perhaps, or something darker – flickered in his eyes.
“A young woman like you should have plenty of offers,” he said, his voice thickening slightly. “You’re stunning, do you have many… fuck buddies.”
“I… I can’t help it. I like sex, mom doesnt know.” Amy said embarrassed as she thought about the time she sucked off her mom’s boyfriend while she fell asleep. Which made her cunt start to get wet thinking about it.
He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. “Your mom wouldn’t understand. She never did. She was always a prude.”
Amy stared at him, a chill running down her spine. This wasn’t the conversation she’d expected to have with her grandfather. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, his gaze fixed on her. “Your mom… she was always so judgmental. Always so quick to condemn. She never understood the… urges of a man. The needs.”
Amy felt a knot of unease tighten in her stomach. “Granddad, I don’t think I want to talk about this.”
He ignored her, his eyes burning with a strange intensity. “You’re different, Amy. You understand. I can see it in your eyes. You’re not afraid to embrace your… desires.”
Amy backed away slightly, feeling slighty turned on by his words. “Granddad, I need to go to the toilet.”
As she got to the toilet she pulled her skirt up and slid her panties down and sat on the toilet. Her heart raced as she thought how worked up she got him. Like a young 18 year old like her got a old 81 year old wanting it. When she finished peeing she stood up and for some reason she took off her panties and left them in the corner of the bathroom floor, maybe a gift for him.
She wiped her pussy with tissue and threw it down the toilet and flushed it. She then adjusted her skirt and washed her hands. She made her way downstairs knowing she had no panties on now. Amy started to get thoughts in her head like he was over 80 could he still get it up?
Amy sat across from him and she saw him looking at her legs as she deliberately slowly opened them so he could see right up her skirt. His jaw dropped and hid his crotch as he blushed. He could see the crack of her pussy as she kept opening and closing her legs. He was now stroking his crotch.
Amy smirked inwardly. The old man was definitely still interested. The game was on.
“Granddad,” she said, her voice low and breathy, “are you feeling okay? You’re looking a little flushed.”
“Oh sweetie… I like what I am seeing,” he said as she kept opening and closing her legs.
Amy smiled, a predatory glint in her eyes. “Is that so, Granddad? What exactly are you seeing?” She leaned forward, her breasts straining against her top, her voice a husky whisper.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I.. I see.” He tilted his head to get a better view. “Sweetheart… Mmmm… where are your panties. You have a nice pussy.”
She sighed as she left her legs open, “thank you. A shame your too old, I bet you can’t get it up any more.”
“Oh I can definitely get it up sweetie,” he smirked as he unzipped his trousers and took out his cock which was hard but small.
He stroked himself as Amy smirked at him, he was trying to get blood to his cock.
“I don’t believe it, old man,” she teased, “prove it.” She pulled her skirt up and opened her legs and started rubbing her shaven slit.
“Don’t taunt me darling, I am not scared to bang you in that armchair,” he stopped stroking is small cock. It was rock hard but not very big. He walked over to her and pulled her to the edge of the armchair her ass was hanging off. He spat on his old hand and lubed his dick up and sank it into her vagina she let out a pleasurable moan. He held her by the ass pumping his old cock in and out.
“Amy… let me see your tits,” he said as he continued to pump in her pussy.
Amy pulled up her tank top and yanked her bra down as her tits spilt out. “Ahh my pussy, suck one.”
He stopped thrusting, entranced by the sight of her naked breasts. His eyes, though clouded with age, held a spark of lust that was both unsettling and… intoxicating. He leaned forward, his breath hot on her skin, and latched onto one of her nipples, sucking with surprising vigor.
Amy gasped, a jolt of electricity shooting through her body. It was rough, almost painful, but there was something undeniably thrilling about it. The forbidden nature of the act, the sheer audacity of it, sent a shiver down her spine.
He moved to the other breast, his hands kneading her flesh, his tongue swirling around her nipple. She closed her eyes, lost in the sensation, her body starting to move with his. He plunged his cock inside her again.
The rhythm was uneven, awkward, but the intensity was undeniable. Her grandfather, this frail, elderly man, was inside her, claiming her in a way that was both shocking and arousing. Every thrust sent a wave of heat through her core, blurring the line between revulsion and desire.
“Oh, Granddad,” she moaned, her voice trembling. “You’re… you’re doing it. You are fucking my pussy.. Ahh not bad for… a 81 year old.”
James grunted, his hips snapping forward as he drove his small cock deeper into Amy’s tight, wet cunt. He could feel her walls clenching around him, milking his dick, drawing him in. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in years, not since his wife had passed away.
Amy’s eyes flew open as she realized what was happening, what she was allowing. The wrongness of it all hit her like a punch to the gut. But it was too late to stop now, not with her grandfather’s cock buried deep inside her, his mouth still attached to her breast. She should pull away, should scream for him to stop, but her body refused to cooperate. Instead, she arched her back, pushing her breast further into his mouth as he sucked and licked, his fingers digging into her ass.
“Ahh, Granddad,” she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… you’re really going for it, aren’t you?” He grunted, his hips snapping forward as he drove his small cock deeper into Amy’s tight, wet cunt.
James pulled back, his eyes wild and unfocused.”Can’t… can’t hold back,” he gasped, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Been too long… too long since I’ve had a woman… a real woman… not just my hand.”
“Then don’t hold back,”she whispered, her voice husky with arousal.”Take what you need, Granddad. Take it all.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on.
James let out a guttural groan, his hips moving with renewed vigor. He waslost now, consumed by the heat of her body, the tightness of her pussy.
Amy cried out, her nails raking down his back as she clung to him.”Yes… yes… fuck me harder, Granddad! Use me…fucking use me!”
With a final, shuddering groan, James buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released. Amy gasped, her eyes widening as she felt the warm flood of his semen filling her. It was wrong, so wrong, but the sensation was exquisite. She clung to him, her body shaking with the force of her own orgasm, her pussy contracting around his spasming cock, milking him for every last drop.
As James fell onto Amy, panting heavily, the reality of what they’d done began to sink in. But he had no remorse, he has been wanting it since she walked through the door. Amy panting looking at him, “I also left you a present on your bathroom floor for you to remember me by.”
James pulled out of Amy’s pussy with a wet plop, his small but hard cock slipping out of her well-fucked hole. He looked down at the mess he had made, his semen mixed with her juices leaking out of her gaping cunt. A satisfied grin spread across his wrinkled face as he took in the sight of his granddaughter’s used pussy.
“What… what kind of present?” he asked, his voice hoarse from their exertion. He stood up on shaky legs, his trousers still around his ankles. Amy sat up, pulling her skirt back down to cover herself.
She smirked at her grandfather’s confused expression. “You’ll see,” she said coyly. “A pair of my dirty panties for you.”
James’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and excitement flashing across his face.”Dirty panties?” he repeated, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief. “You…you left me a pair of your dirty panties?”
Amy nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Mhm. I wore them all day, just for you. They’re nice and…used.” She bit her lip, relishing the look of shock and arousal on her grandfather’s face.
James’s hand instinctively went to his crotch, his small but still-hard cock twitching at the thought. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he stammered, his mind racing. “That’s… that’s incredibly generous of you, Amy.”
She stood up, smoothing down her skirt.”I thought you might like a little souvenir,” she said, her voice dripping with innocence. “Something to remember our special time together. I better get going anyway, thanks for the fuck granddad.”
James watched Amy leave, his mind reeling from the incredible encounter. He couldn’t believe what had just happened – his own granddaughter, offering herself to him so willingly, leaving him a pair of her dirty panties as a keepsake. It was beyond anything he could have imagined.As soon as the door closed behind her, he hurried to the bathroom, his heart pounding with anticipation. He searched the corners, finally spotting a small, lacy pair of panties crumpled in the corner. He picked them up reverently, bringing them to his nose. The scent of Amy’s arousal filled his nostrils, sending a jolt of electricity through his aged body.He brought the panties to his lips, kissing them gently before pressing them against his face. He inhaled deeply, losing himself in the intoxicating aroma of his granddaughter’s desire.