I’m standing in his living room in nothing but the thin white tank top I “accidentally” spilled water on and a pair of tiny black panties that barely cover anything. Grandpa’s old friend—seventy-two, silver hair, thick arms still strong from years of work—looks at me like he’s starving. His name is Frank, but I’ve called him Grandpa since I was little. Tonight that word feels filthy in my mouth. Dm if you want to know more OliviaBlossom01gmail.com
“Come here,” he says, voice low and rough.
I walk over slowly, hips swaying, and stop right between his spread knees. He sits in that big worn recliner like a king. His hand comes up, big and warm, and cups my ass through the thin cotton. He squeezes hard enough to make me gasp.
“You’ve been teasing me all summer,” he mutters. “Walking around in those little shorts. Bending over. Showing me everything.”
I lean down so my mouth is close to his ear. “I wanted you to notice.”
His other hand slides up the back of my thigh and under the edge of my panties. Thick fingers find my already wet cunt and stroke once, slow and deliberate. I moan right against his neck.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He pulls his hand out and shows me the shine on his fingers, then pushes two of them into my mouth. I suck them clean while looking him in the eye.
He stands up, towering over me, and unzips his pants. The heavy, thick cock that falls out is already half-hard, veined, the head dark and wet at the tip. I drop to my knees without being told. My hands wrap around the shaft—hot, heavy, the skin sliding under my palms as I stroke him. I lean in and lick the bead of precum from the slit, tasting salt and age and pure male heat.
“That’s it, girl. Get it ready for that tight little pussy.”
I take him into my mouth, stretching my lips wide around the thick head. He groans deep in his chest as I sink lower, tongue working the underside, sucking hard. One of his hands fists in my hair and guides me, not rough, just firm. I bob my head, taking more each time, until the head hits the back of my throat and I gag softly around him. Spit runs down my chin. He watches every second, eyes dark.
“Stand up. Turn around. Hands on the arm of the chair.”
I obey. He yanks my panties down to mid-thigh so they’re stretched tight between my legs. His hands grip my hips, and then I feel the thick head of his cock press against my entrance. He doesn’t ease in. He pushes forward in one long, steady thrust until he’s buried to the root, stretching me open, filling me so completely I cry out.
“Jesus Christ,” he growls. “Tight as fuck.”
He starts fucking me hard right away—deep, heavy strokes that slap his hips against my ass. Each thrust shoves me forward onto the chair. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of my cunt fills the room. I push back to meet him, wanting every inch. His hands move under my tank top, grabbing my tits, pinching the nipples hard enough to make me yelp and clench around him.
“You like that, don’t you? Getting fucked by an old man.”
“Yes,” I moan. “Harder. Please.”
He gives it to me. The chair creaks under the force. One hand leaves my breast and reaches around to rub my clit in tight, fast circles while he keeps slamming into me. The dual sensation—thick cock stretching my pussy and those rough fingers working my swollen clit—has me shaking in seconds.
“Come on my cock,” he orders.
I do. The orgasm rips through me so hard my knees almost buckle. My cunt squeezes and flutters around him while I moan his name like a prayer. He doesn’t stop. He fucks me straight through it, chasing his own pleasure, the wet sounds turning filthy and loud.
When my legs start to give out he pulls free, spins me around, and lifts me like I weigh nothing. He sits back in the recliner and settles me on his lap facing him. I reach down, guide his slick cock back to my entrance, and sink onto it with a broken moan. This angle lets him go even deeper. I start riding him, grinding my clit against the base of his cock every time I come down.
His hands are all over me—squeezing my ass, spreading me wider, guiding my rhythm. I lean forward so my tits are in his face. He sucks one nipple into his mouth, teeth scraping, tongue flicking, while I bounce harder. The wet slap of my pussy taking his cock is constant now. I can feel another orgasm building fast, tighter and hotter than the first.
“I’m gonna come again,” I gasp.
“Do it. Soak this old cock.”
I shatter. My head falls back and I cry out, cunt pulsing hard around him. He holds my hips and thrusts up into me through the whole thing, prolonging it until I’m whimpering and oversensitive.
He stands while still inside me, carries me a few steps, and lays me on the couch on my back. He hooks my legs over his shoulders and starts pounding me in earnest—long, powerful strokes that make my tits bounce and my breath stutter. The head of his cock drags over that perfect spot inside me with every thrust. I reach down and spread my pussy lips so he can watch his thick shaft disappear into me.
“Look at that,” he rasps. “Taking every fucking inch.”
I’m past coherent words. All I can do is moan and clench and beg with my body for more. He leans down, folds me almost in half, and kisses me hard while he fucks me. His tongue is in my mouth, tasting of the whiskey he was drinking earlier. I suck on it the same way I sucked his cock.
He pulls out suddenly, flips me onto my stomach, and yanks my hips up. I’m face-down, ass up, panties still tangled around one thigh. He mounts me from behind again and drives back in with a single brutal thrust. This time he doesn’t hold back at all. The couch rocks. My moans turn into high, broken sounds every time he bottoms out.
One of his hands reaches under me and finds my clit again. He rubs it in time with his thrusts, fast and relentless. I come a third time, harder than the others, thighs shaking, pussy gripping him so tight he swears under his breath.
“I’m close,” he warns.
“Inside,” I beg. “Come inside me. Please.”
He doesn’t argue. His thrusts turn short and deep. A low, guttural groan tears out of him as he buries himself to the hilt and starts pumping. Hot, thick pulses of cum flood my cunt. I can feel every spurt, the heat of it, the way it leaks out around his still-throbbing cock. He keeps moving through it, shallow thrusts that push more of his release deeper inside me.
When he finally stills, he’s breathing hard against my back. His cock twitches a few more times, giving me the last drops. He stays buried for a long moment, then slowly pulls out. I feel his cum immediately start to drip down my inner thighs.
He sits back on his heels and watches it. “Fucking beautiful.”
I roll onto my side, still panting, and look at him. His cock is glossy with our mixed fluids, still half-hard. I reach out and stroke him slowly, smearing the mess around the head.
“Again?” I ask, voice soft and needy.
His eyes darken. He leans down and kisses me, slow this time, tasting the sweat on my upper lip. One big hand slides between my legs and pushes two fingers into my cum-filled pussy, scooping some of it out and spreading it over my clit.
“You’re not leaving this house until I’ve filled you again,” he says against my mouth. “And again after that.”
I smile, legs falling open wider for him. “Promise?”
He answers by pushing those two fingers deeper and curling them just right. My back arches. The night is only getting started, and I already know I’ll be walking funny tomorrow—and craving the next time this old man decides to remind me exactly who I belong to when the door is locked and the lights are low.
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