Stick It In My Cranny, Said Granny

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By Lauren McAllister

I was a 69 year-old living, breathing woman but a fat load of good that did me. I hadn’t had sex since I was 63. Even then, it was only a couple of mediocre, semi-hard humps before the fucker had the balls to die on top of me. Yes, I’m glad I was able to provide him with a good send off but it was me who had to explain to the paramedics and police how he met his untimely end. I didn’t stop blushing ‘til I was 65.

Even though a certain amount of water has flown under my bridge, I’ve managed to stay in shape and still take pride in my appearance. And I haven’t lost “the desire” either, dammit! I seem to split my time between my job at “Turkey Shack” and shamelessly masturbating to HBO shows. Hey, I’m not dead yet.

I decided to seek out meager employment at “Turkey Shack” for a little extra money – and I mean very little extra money – and to stay connected with other people. Sitting home by yourself is a super shitty idea for us silver-haired dynamos – and there are only so many rub-worthy shows on HBO. Hmm, maybe I should also look into STARZ.

There’s was this young guy I like to talk to at the Shack, named Donny. He worked a lot of the same dreary, giblet-filled shifts as I did. Donny was a freshman at some local college, trying to earn enough money to eat until he graduated with a diploma that would probably dump him right there back working at “Turkey Shack.”

Donny was a really sweet kid. Very helpful and always making sure I wasn’t lifting something too heavy or offering to cover for me I needed a few minutes rest. Plus, he was a college boy. Cute, in good shape and had all his hair. What’s not to like?

After a few months, I started to sense a change in our working relationship. He would bring me CDs that he thought I might like. I know CDs only cost about 35 cents apiece at the moment but it was a very kind gesture and, apart from James fucking Last, he was absolutely right about most of them. I also received a generous helping of his mother’s special homemade Victoria Sandwich. It’s apparently some type of British cake with a lot of cream and some jam in it. And considering it was someone from England who baked it? Well, I’ve had worse things in my mouth.

Donny was also standing closer to me. He was still respectful of my personal space but the official border of that personal space had certainly shrunk. One day, our forearms rubbed against one another over the deep fat fryer. I’ll admit, I felt a little nether tingle.

Hey, I hadn’t had an actual man – besides my icy fingered gynecologist – touch me in 6 loooong years. Let a girl enjoy herself!

I was probably imagining the whole thing – sad old horny woman that I am – but it was nice to fantasize about most evenings as I listened to a Johnny Mathis CD and casually stroked my genitals through my work uniform.

It was a Thursday afternoon shift – we were on wattle removal duty – when Donny dropped the big question. Well, it wasn’t that big.

“Hey, a bunch of us are going for a drink after work tomorrow night. You should come.”

“Oh, I’m probably too old to hang out with your youngsters,” I replied, hoping he’s say, “No, of course your not, you hot, supple hump machine.”

He didn’t quite go that far but he did encourage me to drop by. I said I would.

I don’t know why we women play these stupid self defeating games. I’d been salivating for a major boning for weeks and yet here I was, tossing him an escape hatch. I didn’t want him to escape. I wanted to get boned!

The next day was spent shaving everything in sight and trying to figure out what to wear. I had to look my age but not look like I had a day pass out of “The Home.” My outfit couldn’t be too low in the top and high in the bottom but I didn’t want to show up wearing a shroud, either.

In the end, I decided jeans and a tight t-shirt. It showed what I had to offer but didn’t scream “blue-rinse tart, come and get it!” The main thing was not to drift too far from reality. Keep reminding myself that a 20 year-old boy is not going to be interested in an old – but really well preserved – smokin’ hot lady like me.

I arrived at the bar about 8. A ton of my junior colleagues were already present and partying down. To my delight, Donny had kept the seat next to him vacant. When he caught sight of me, he smiled and waved me over. Well, at least I was off to a good start. Keep it together, girlie!

The seating arrangements were cramped. Usually a bummer but in this case deliciously propitious. When I sat down, our legs were touching under the table and our arms were practically having sex.

It was a very enjoyable evening. It was the first time I’d been with him where he didn’t stink of turkey parts. His subtle but masculine aftershave was quite the improvement. We had a few beers and shared a few laughs. Every time things got a little squished together, I didn’t pull away but I didn’t come on to him either. It was important I play the long game. It had been depressingly dry six years, I could wait a little longer to get things percolating properly.

Around ten o’clock, our little shindig began to wind down. Nobody was tired (except maybe me) but you can only afford to buy so many pub drinks on “Turkey Shack” wages. Donny quite gallantly offered to walk me home. I answered, “Are you sure it isn’t too far out of your way?”

There I went, being that stupid, self-defeating woman again!

I almost kissed him in relief when he said no. So, we left the bar together and had a wonderful walk back to my place. I could finally hear everything he was saying, now that we were away from all that god awful music. We laughed and I would touch him now and again and let him touch me. I had waited until now to get all cutesy with Donny because I didn’t want to embarrass him by playing the minx in front of all our pre-school workmates.

It was hard to believe that I was still going through the same damn mating rituals that I did was I was 15. Not that it wasn’t fun. Well, it would only be fun if grandma ended up having to replace her bed linen tomorrow. I had my fingers, but definitely no my legs crossed.

The moment of truth finally arrived. I stopped outside my apartment building feeling like I had a Gordian Knot in my stomach. Donny hesitated. I knew he didn’t want to leave but felt honor bound to play the gentleman (albeit a young one). He told me he’d had a lovely time and he hoped I had a good evening.

Before he turned, I asked if he’d like to come up for a nightcap and braced myself for a huge disappointment. When you’re 18, it’s the boy who gets disappointed but, believe me girls, that whole dynamic quickly gets reversed, so be kind on your way up that ladder.

“Are you sure?”

I shrugged and smiled. “Hey, the night is still young even if I’m not.”

Shit! Shit! Shit! Why the fuck did I need to mention my age?? Luckily, reminding him that I was old enough to be his dead grandmother did not deter.

One the way up the elevator, Donny seemed more nervous that I was and I didn’t think that was possible. Once inside I poured a couple of beers and sat down on the couch really, really close to him.

After a few sips, I attempted my first salvo of familiarity.
”I just wanted to say, now that we’re alone (it was good to remind him of that should he decide to do something that was exceedingly inappropriate to me), I’d just like to thank you for being so kind to me. The CDs, the, ah, delicious dessert. Anyway, thank you.”

And I kissed him on the lips. Just a quick one. No tongue. There was still a possibility I was staring up the wrong fruit tree.

“You just make showing up to work a lot more bearable,” he shyly told me. I really miss not seeing you on the days when you’re not there.”
”That is so sweet.” I kissed him again, this time making sure to press my breasts against his arm as I leaned in. Now I was wishing I’d worn something he could put his hand up but I didn’t want to leave the room and change in case he lost his nerve or desire and legged it.

You have to realize that I was totally out of practice with the whole “seduction” routine but he was still being so damned respectful, I was just going to have to take the clumsy lead. I started stroking his arm. “You must work out all the time, with muscles like these,” I purred.

“Not really. Well, maybe a little.”

He wasn’t exactly Benjamin Disraeli when it came to conversation but luckily I hadn’t invited him up for that. I held up my arm but it was really just an excuse to stick my boobs in his face. “I try and stay in shape too.”
”Yes, I’ve noticed,” he blushed.

Time to go full-tilt tramp and hope for the best. I inexplicably pulled off my top. I could see the shock on his face. “I’m going to get changed into something a little looser. Would you like to come with me?”

It was the worst come on line I’d ever heard but sometimes, if the man is in the right mood, it doesn’t matter.

“Sure,” he stammered.
See, I told you.

We got to the bedroom and I took off my bra in front of him. Luckily, all the air hadn’t got out of the ladies quite yet and I could tell that he was liking the view. I began to unzip my pants and he quickly turned around. If Donny wasn’t careful, he was going to perfect gentleman me into a nervous breakdown.  

“No please, turn back around. I just shaved today and I want to know what you think of it.” Wow! It doesn’t get much more obvious than that.

He complied to my request and I removed the remainder of my clothing. There was a certain exhilaration in being totally, buck naked in front of a man. Especially an obscenely young man. It was tough to gauge him at the moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to run out of the room crying or spontaneously combust. “Can you come over here, for a sec? I’d like your opinion.”

He took tiny, tiny steps in my direction, like he was afraid I’d suddenly turn into a Ringwraith and eat him. He was only half right!

I grabbed his tremulous hand and placed it on my pussy. “I shaved with a new razor, today. Does this feel smooth enough to you?” I rubbed his palm up and down, pushing it into my lips, so he could feel how wet I was.

“It feels… it feels wonderful.”

“So do you,” I replied right before I stuck my tongue in his mouth. I raised his other hand to my tit as we kissed and started unzipping his pants. I knew everything he was thinking at that split second was coming directly from his penis, so time was of the essence.

“I’ll be right back,” I apologized and dropped to my knees. And there it was. A cock! It wasn’t a monster but it was young and hard and it was hard because of me. I still had something to offer, dammit! Putting that dick in my mouth made me feel 50 years younger. I sucked it like it was a Godiva Truffle. I licked it like it was the stamp on my divorce papers. I cradled his nuts like a love-struck squirrel. Then I dug in even deeper and spent a good five minutes journeying back and forth between his scrotum and his pooper. I’d never really been into anilingus before but as I circled my tongue round his little backdoor, I was in heinie heaven. It was so nice to be licking an asshole and not cutting it out of a turkey. I was also gently pumping his doowanger with my hand. I believe the kids call this a rusty trombone and I was going at it like Jack Teargarden on a fistful of bennies. Another five minutes of concentrated mouth-to-cock play and I was ready to be on the receiving end.

I stood up, wiped my lips, kissed him and flopped onto the bed with my legs spread open like a coffee-table book. I could see my girlie juices glistening in the light. This was what you’ve been waiting for, girl! I was practically cumming at the thought of being entered.
Donny began nibbling on the insides of my thighs. Each nibble brought him closer to my drizzling honey pot. When his lips hit mine, rockets went off. I pulled his head in so hard; I could feel his teeth against my vaginal opening. His tongue work was a little amateurish but enthusiastic. His lingual massage of my vulva was just magical. Little sprays of pleasure began shooting throughout my body. So this is what it was like to get fucked!

My hips were now moving up and down with his plump, spry tongue. And he had hair that didn’t come off when you yanked at it! I could feel my vag getting tighter and tighter. Oh my god, I was going to cum before he’d even been inside me. Was that his finger I could feel? Kaboom! It was like my clit had been jabbed by a cattle prod (in a good way). Massive electro-orgasmic charges bolted up from between my legs and exploded like bottle rockets throughout my abdomen and chest. My tits were practically glowing. When the most violent climactic seizures had finally finished pummeling my solar plexus, I pulled him quickly on top of me and kissed my lap liquids off his lips and cheeks. “Fuck me baby. Fuck grandma. Fuck me ‘til there’s nothing left but a wrinkled pool of jelly.”

He paused for a second. Shit! Why did I keep bringing up the age thing! Had I shriveled his shank with my ill-advised yammering?

My young lover looked around sheepishly, “Do you have a condom?”

I stifled a laugh and touched his cock tenderly. “Donny, sweetie, at my age, there’s no way in hell you’re going to get me pregnant, so unless you’ve been having relations with Bowery prostitutes, you have my full permission to mount me bareback.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And with those succinct words, he slammed his knob into me up to the hilt. Oh my God, I just love sex! Where had it been the last six years?”

I sunk my nails into his glutes and rose my hips to every thrust. Fuck what a feeling! His barely used cock was so hard and his hips slammed into me with such power. Fuck me! Fuck me, Toy Boy!

This was a major poon pounding. A serious beaver bashing bout. He also slipped a finger into my asshole somewhere along the way. My second cum of the day felt like a sexual tsunami rising up from my groin and drowning me in libidinous ecstasy. I began to squirt for the first time in forever. Thin streams of cummy liquid raced down the shaft of his cock and dripped from his nutsack. My legs were wrapped around Donny like an industrial vice, trapping him inside me until I had squeezed every last climactic fucknugget out of his pussy pummeling. Finally, the lingering love spasms began to wane and small snippets of mental clarity began to return to my wham-bam ravaged brain. I took a single moment to reflect on the schtupping I’d just received as vast tide pools sex sweat gathered in on my stomach and between my breasts.

But rest, I did not. There was one last “me treat” left on the meat menu before I called it a night. I flipped Donny over on the bed and lifted myself off his pork sword. And down I dove, sucking with an intensity that was guaranteed to get him to the promised land. He writhed and moaned but I would not relent. I stifled my gag reflex as best I could to pull him way, way into my mouth. To the very back of my throat. Then I hit him with my secret weapon. I drove a thumb into the very base of his nards and he popped like a noisemaker on New Years Eve. Yes! The very thing I had been craving was now pouring into my mouth. Salty, sticky, gooey jizz and lots of it. A taste I’d almost forgotten. I let it congregate on my tongue, savoring the flavor and the viscosity of his carnal emanations. I wanted him to just lay with me for awhile afterwards but he had to get dressed and go home or his mother would start to worry. I paid for an Uber so he wouldn’t be too late. Oh well. At least I got to watch a “Carson” rerun out of Chicago.

Donny comes over four or five times a week now. I help him study and then he pounds the living shit out of me. More than a fair exchange, I’d say.

Oh, and I starting a second job at “Benny’s Beef Barn” next month. Just in time for their Christmas party!

The End

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