Randy Lincoln: Even Grandmas get it!

Helen gasped with joy. She could fed the tension begin to ebb from her son's muscular body, and then his enormous cock began to soften within the flooded sheath of her pussy. Helen clamped down with her cunt muscles in an effort to squeeze out the last drop of his jism. Jason shivered and shifted his position, and his cock slid out of his mother's pussy.

Jason rolled off and lay beside her, his cheek against her shoulder, his arm across her tits. For a time mother and son simply rested, breathing deeply, recovering from their orgasmic exertions.

Helen stared up at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the bedside clock. With the fading of her passion, reality came creeping back. She began to realize the enormity of what she had done.

A mild panic gripped her.

"Oh, God!" she murmured with a sigh.

"What's the matter, Mom?" He stirred groggily.

"Jason, I'm worded. This is serious – what we've done."

"It's all right, Mom. Relax." He snuggled up against her.

"It's just so – outrageous!"

"That's for sure." He hugged her. "But it's all right, Mom. Don't worry."

"I jut wish there was someone I could talk to."

"What?" He opened his eyes.

"I mean, like my mother!"

"Mom, for God's sake. You're not gonna tell Grandma about this, are you?"

"I'd just like to get her thoughts." She drew him closer and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "She understands about these things."

"Morn, we have to be cool about this." His hand moved down and began fondling her big tits. "Like, when did you say Kristen was coming home?"

"I told you, dear. Your sister will be home in a couple of days."

"Gee, that doesn't leave us much time, does it?"

"No, suppose it doesn't," she said. And she spread her legs as her son climbed on top of her and fucked his stiffening prick back into her cunt.

It was Saturday morning. On the other side of town, Helen's mother, whose name was Eleanor, was sitting at the kitchen table sipping her third cup of coffee. It was nearly noon, but Eleanor was still wearing only a floral print robe and a pair of fuzzy pink bedroom slippers. Her spirits were low.

Eleanor had recently been fired from the job she had held for nearly twenty-five years. Her supervisor told her that she no longer fit the company's youthful profile. The fact that she and the supervisor had been having an affair made hr dismissal all the more humiliating.

Though well into her fifties, Eleanor was still a strikingly sexy woman, with clear eyes, a wide sensual mouth, and beautiful platinum blonde hair. But it wasn't her face and hair that men noticed first – it was her body. Her tits were incredible mounds of billowing flesh that bulged from her body like pendulous melons. They drew admiring stares wherever she went and had given pleasure to more men than she could remember.

At the present time, however, her sex life was practically nonexistent. In the past she had enjoyed fucking her co-workers, business associate and the husbands and sons of her friends, but ever since being fired she had kept to herself and avoided the company of men. Despite her good looks and sex appeal, Eleanor had begun to doubt that men could still find her attractive. It bothered her that she was getting old. To be able to attract some hot-blooded young men and give him a raging hard-on was the sort of confirmation Eleanor needed to reassure herself that she wasn't entirely over the hill as far as sex was concerned.

Someone knocked at the back door and a resonant voice came in through the screen. "Mrs. Johnson? Are you up yet?"

Eleanor recognized the voice. It belonged to David, the boy from next door.

"Yes, dear, come on hi."

David – a big, strapping, handsome kid – was wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and nothing else. Arms folded, he lounged against the kitchen door. His heavy-lidded eyes subtly took in Eleanor's voluptuous form, which was clingingly revealed by her sheer silk dressing gown.

"Morning, Mrs. Johnson," he said. "I was wondering if you wanted me to cut the grass today."

For years, ever since her husband had died, David had been helping out with the household chores.

Eleanor, acutely aware of his muscular arms and chest, shot a quick glance through the kitchen window.

"No, don't bother, dear. The grass looks all right." She stood up. "What can I get you, dear – a cup of coffee? Or would you prefer something cold? How about a nice glass of orange juice?"

"Yeah, okay. That sounds great." He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

Eleanor could feel his eyes following her as she moved to the counter and poured him a glass of orange juice. As she leaned across the table to hand him the glass, her big tits pushed at the front other robe, and David stared at them as he took the glass from her hand. Eleanor sat down beside him.

"You're really know dear, I really appreciate all the things you do for me."

"That's okay, Mrs. Johnson. I like doing stuff for you." He tipped up his glass of juice, his eyes never leaving her tits.

"That's sweet of you, dear. But I'm sure you can think of better ways to spend your Saturday mornings."

"Oh, I don't know," he said. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Eleanor realized that he was probably getting a hard-on.

Sitting there beside him, her knee nearly touching his, Eleanor felt equally aroused. Conscious now of the growing bulge in his pants, she was finding it difficult to control her breathing, and her pussy already felt wet. She wanted him badly, but hesitated to make the first move, for fear that the boy just wouldn't want to get it on with an old woman like her.

"David, you're such a handsome guy. Wouldn't you rather be out chasing girls?"

The teenager laughed nervously and took another sip of his orange juice.

"Not really, Mrs. Johnson. Young girls just don't interest me all that much."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I kinda prefer older women, if you wanna know the truth."

"DO YOU really!" She sat back in a show of surprise, her big tits jutting forward provocatively. "And why is that?"

"Well, I like women with – with a full figure."

"Oh, you naughty boy," she said. "I know what you really mean. You mean a woman with big tits."

David blushed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know," he said.

"A woman with tits like mine," she said. "Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, right," he said in a choked voice. "I know it's true, David, from the way you've been staring at them."

Too embarrassed to speak, David sat motionless and stared down into his glass.

"Isn't that right, dear? Haven't you been staring at my tits?"

David shrugged again. "I – I'm sorry, Mrs. Johnson."

"Honey, it's all right." She leaned toward him and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Really, dear. It's all right. In fact, I'm flattered!"

"You are?"

"Yes, of course. At my age it's very flattering when a young man finds you attractive." Looking directly into his eyes, Eleanor drew her shoulders together and let the front of her dressing gown fall partially open. "You do find me attractive, don't you?"

"Mrs. Johnson, I think you're gorgeous!"

"Why, thank you, dear." Eleanor pulled the lapels of her dressing gown farther apart so that the boy could see even more of her tits. "And you like these big tits of mine?"

"God yes!"

"Oh, I'm so glad!" She threw the front of her dressing gown wide open, completely baring her magnificent tits. "Would you like to touch them?"

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. Slowly ring to his feet, he took a step toward her and nervously reached out to touch her naked tits. But then he stopped as though unsure of himself and drew back his hands.

With her gown hanging open now, Eleanor slipped her hands under her tits and caressed them invitingly, lifting them in her cupped hands as though offering them to him.