I’m twenty-five, home for the long weekend, and the house is quiet the way it only gets when Mom and Dad are gone. Grandpa’s in the living room in his usual recliner, remote in one hand, the other resting heavy on his thigh. He’s seventy-one, still broad in the shoulders, thick arms from years of work, silver hair cropped short, and that same deep voice that used to read me stories when I was little. Only now the stories I want are the ones he never told.
Dm OliviaBlossom01gmail.com if you want to know more
I walk in wearing the short cotton dress I know rides up when I sit. No bra. No panties. Just the thin fabric and the heat already building between my legs. He looks up. His eyes drop to my bare thighs, then climb slowly. He doesn’t look away.
“Come here, baby girl.”
I go. He pats his lap. I climb on, straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. The dress rides higher. His big hands settle on my bare ass, squeezing, pulling me closer until I feel the thick, heavy shape of his cock already half-hard under his sweatpants.
“Been thinking about this all week,” he murmurs against my neck. “About spreading these pretty legs and watching you take every inch of your grandpa’s dick.”
I rock against him, grinding slow. “I want it. I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”
He growls low, almost animal. One hand slides under the dress, two thick fingers finding me already slick. He rubs my clit in slow circles, then pushes those fingers inside, curling them just right. I moan into his mouth when he kisses me—deep, hungry, tongue claiming mine. He tastes like coffee and something darker.
“So wet for me already.” He pumps his fingers deeper. “This little cunt knows who it belongs to.”
I reach between us, shove his sweatpants down, and wrap both hands around his cock. It’s thick, heavy, veined, the head already leaking. I stroke him slow, thumb spreading the precum, feeling him throb. He hisses through his teeth.
“Get on it.”
I lift up, guide the fat head to my entrance, and sink down. The stretch burns in the best way—wide, relentless. I take him inch by inch until I’m seated fully, stuffed full of my grandfather’s cock. He holds my hips still for a second, letting me feel every pulse.
Then he starts to move.
He thrusts up hard while pulling me down, fucking into me with deep, measured strokes. The wet sound of it fills the room. My tits bounce under the thin dress; he yanks the straps down so he can suck one nipple into his mouth, biting just hard enough to make me cry out. His other hand stays on my ass, spreading me wider so he can go deeper.
“That’s it—take Grandpa’s dick. Take every fucking inch.”
I ride him harder, grinding my clit against the base of his cock every time I drop down. Pleasure coils tight and low. He feels it. He flips us without pulling out, laying me back on the recliner, one of my legs hooked over his shoulder. Then he drives into me—long, powerful strokes that slap wet against my skin. The angle is perfect. Every thrust drags across that sweet spot inside me until I’m shaking.
“Gonna cum on it,” I gasp. “Gonna cum all over Grandpa’s cock—”
He doesn’t slow down. He fucks me through the first orgasm, fingers digging into my thigh, watching my face as I come apart. My cunt clenches hard around him; he groans like it hurts in the best way.
He’s not done.
He pulls out, flips me onto my hands and knees on the carpet, and shoves back in from behind in one smooth thrust. The new angle makes me cry out. He grips my hips and pounds me—hard, steady, relentless. One hand reaches under to rub my clit in tight circles. The other fists my hair, pulling my head back so he can growl in my ear.
“This tight little hole was made for me. Look at you, dripping down your thighs, begging for more of your grandpa’s dick.”
I push back to meet every thrust, fucking myself onto him. The wet, filthy sounds of our bodies fill the quiet house. He spanks my ass once, hard, then again, the sting blooming into heat that only makes me wetter.
“Harder,” I beg. “Fuck me harder—make me cum again—”
He does. He fucks me like he owns me, deep and rough, until a second orgasm crashes through me so hard my arms give out. I drop to my elbows, ass still high, and he keeps going, using my body, chasing his own release. His cock swells even thicker. He buries himself to the hilt and comes with a long, low groan, pumping thick ropes of cum deep inside me. I feel every pulse, every hot spurt, and it pushes another smaller wave of pleasure through me.
He stays inside me for a long moment, breathing hard, one hand stroking my back. When he finally pulls out, his cum leaks out of me in a slow, warm trickle. He watches it, eyes dark, then gathers some on his fingers and pushes it back in.
“Keep it in you,” he says. “I want you walking around the rest of the weekend full of me.”
I roll onto my back, legs still open, looking up at him. He’s still hard. Still hungry.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing and carries me to his bedroom—the big bed that smells like him. He lays me down, spreads my thighs, and dives between them. His tongue is broad and skilled, licking through the mess he left, sucking my clit, fucking his tongue into me until I’m writhing again. He doesn’t stop until I come a third time, thighs clamping around his head, fingers tangled in his silver hair.
When I finally go limp, he crawls up my body and kisses me, sharing the taste of us. His cock is hard again, pressing against my stomach.
“Round two,” he says simply.
He turns me onto my side, lifts my top leg, and slides back into my still-sensitive cunt from behind. This time it’s slower, deeper, almost tender—except there’s nothing tender about the way he owns me. One arm wraps around my waist, the other hand cups my breast, pinching the nipple in time with his thrusts. He talks the whole time, low and filthy.
“You’re mine when you’re here. This pussy, this body—mine. I jack off thinking about you taking me like this. About breeding this tight little cunt until it remembers the shape of me.”
I reach back and dig my nails into his hip, urging him deeper. “Then do it. Fill me again. Make me yours.”
He does. He fucks me until the bedframe creaks, until sweat slicks our skin, until I come again with his name on my lips—not Grandpa, not the polite word, just the raw, hungry sound of a woman who wants more. He follows a few strokes later, flooding me a second time, holding me tight against his chest while his cock twitches inside me.
We stay like that for a long time. His hand strokes lazily between my legs, playing with the mess, pushing two fingers in alongside the soft, spent length of him. I shudder.
Later he takes me in the shower, bent over under the spray, one hand braced on the tile while he fucks me slow and deep from behind. Water runs down my back. His free hand reaches around to rub my clit until I come again, weaker this time, trembling. He finishes with a low curse and a final hard thrust, then washes me carefully, almost gently, like the roughness earlier was a different man.
By the time night falls I’m sore in the best way—thighs bruised faintly from his grip, cunt used and swollen and still leaking him. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me into his lap one more time. I straddle him, sink down onto his half-hard cock, and rock slowly while he holds my face in both hands and kisses me like he never wants to stop.
“Stay the whole weekend,” he says against my mouth. “I want you waking up on my dick every morning. I want to fall asleep with you full of me. I want you so addicted to this cock you come back every chance you get.”
I roll my hips, taking him deeper, already feeling the slow rebuild of heat. “I’m already addicted. Make me need it more.”
He smiles—slow, dark, possessive—and starts moving under me again.
And I know I’ll be back. Again and again. Because nothing else feels like this: the stretch, the age, the forbidden weight of it, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that still makes him hard and hungry and alive.
Grandpa’s dick. My secret. My addiction.
And I want more.
🔞 Candy.AI 🔥 AI Sex Chat – Roleplay, Erotic Stories, Try for Free 🕹️