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THIRD Generation
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THIRD Generation This is a story that began just a few months ago, but actually began about 30 years before that. I’ll explain… I was back in my home town for a 90th birthday party, and went into a Walmart to get a card and a present. As I was waiting in the checkout line, a small boy, about 4 or 5 years old, was trying to pull candy off of the shelf while his mom was checking out. I started talking to him, (what’s your name? Nice to meet you Larry. How old are you? Wow, you’re a big boy! Do you like to play any sports?) and I kept him engaged long enough for the transaction to finish. I was thanked, and I told Larry that his mom was ready to go. He laughed, and told me it wasn’t his mom; it was his GRANDMA. She looked about 30, but was clearly used to the confusion, and simply said, “He’s right”. They left. The next night, on my way home from the birthday party, I was driving by a bar I used to frequent when I was much younger. On a whim, I pulled in and went inside to see if anything had changed, since it looked the same on the outside. The grandmother from the day before was sitting at the bar with two friends, and as I moved up to the bar I recognized her, and simply said, “Hey Granny”. She looked at me when I spoke, and started laughing out loud. Her friends were puzzled, and she then told them the story of my coming to her rescue when Larry was acting up at the store. She introduced me to the others, and I joined the group. All three were married, and enjoying a girl’s night out. As it turned out, Cindy, the grandmother, was a grandmother by marriage. She was the second wife of a much older man and had a step who was only ten years younger. She was 33. During the conversation, she asked me where I went to school once she found I grew up in the area. As it turned out, her mom was a couple of years behind me at the same high school, and I knew her. I didn’t give any more information, but a few years after I graduated, I had picked up her mom in a bar, and went home with her. She was a single mom at the time, with a small who had to have been Cindy. We got back to her place, and she sent the baby sitter home, but her woke up, came walking out, and I stayed in the living room while she put her to bed. I fucked her on the couch and left. I never saw her again. I spoke at times with each of the three, and one of them slipped me her business card and told me to give her a call the next day. Soon after it was time for them to leave, although Cindy remained behind for a couple of minutes to finish her drink. She got right to the point, and said, “I’m a good girl, and don’t intend that to change. I’m free again tomorrow night if you’d like to have dinner. Trust me, it will only be dinner.” At that point I handed her the business card I had been given by her friend, and told her that I didn’t need the card anymore. She told me that I’d probably get lucky with her friend if that is what I was looking for. I’m sure I got some Brownie Points telling her that dinner and good conversation were much better. Cindy kept the card. She left after we agreed to meet in my hotel bar after she got out of work, “sometime between six and seven.” I was on my second glass of wine the next night when she arrived around 7:30. As soon as she sat down next to me at the bar, she asked me if I had slept with her mother. I did a good job looking confused. She explained that when she asked her mom about me, the response was confusing, but she had her suspicions. “My mom was a slut for a long time. God I hope you’re not my father.” That made me laugh, and I simply said that a gentleman does not kiss and tell. She pressed some more and I admitted that I had seen her when she was about two or three years old. I refused to disclose more. The intent was to go somewhere to eat, but we ended up going into the hotel restaurant and eating there. She kept pressing for details about her mom, but I didn’t give anything up. Her mom had lived a rough life, and Cindy was very surprised that I was older than her mom, who had not aged well. We ate and drank, laughed a lot, and formed a pretty good bond before dinner was over. We stayed at the table for another half hour or so, and then it was time for her to go. I put the meal on my room bill, and offered to walk her out to her car. I did, and shook her hand good night. Always the gentleman. Back in my room, there was a knock on my door a few minutes later. I looked through the peep hole, saw it was Cindy, and opened the door for her. She stormed in, and said, “I’m VERY annoyed at you.””How did you get my room number?” was my response. “Duh. You gave the number to the server.” She was miffed that I didn’t try to kiss her so that she could turn me down. Twisted female logic. I suggested that she was afraid her mom was a better<b> kisser. </font></b>We went back and forth a few times, until I told her I’d make a move so she could say no and walk away happy. I leaned over to kiss her, and she turned her head away. I moved my head in the direction she turned, and she moved it in the other direction. Then I moved my face there, and she turned away. I fooled her when I started to back away, and then snuck a kiss on her lips. We stared at each other, but the mood was changing. “Your mom is better.” “No she isn’t.” “Better than what I just got.” She told me I could have one kiss, just one. Of course I knew that she couldn’t stop at one; no one can. So I lifted her arms around my neck, moved mine around her waist, and did one very long kiss. Once she opened her mouth and our tongues got involved, I knew there would be more. And there were. I fully intended for it to stop at kissing, but she started responding to the kisses by pressing up against me. My hands slipped under her sweater and gently rubbed her lower back. I pressed my crotch against hers and got pressure back. The final barrier went down when I started kissing her neck. I kissed wet snail tracks that reduced her to a quivering body that gave itself up to me. We had no condoms, and she was young and fertile, so intercourse was out of the question. Our clothes came off and we took turns going down on each other. Much later, after we were both satisfied, she admitted that her trip to my room was not completely innocent. She didn’t think it would go as far as it did, but was glad that it had. She stayed the night, and we took a shower in the morning that lead to another oral session with water falling down on us. I did admit that she was far better than her mother, and she left with a smile on her face. We communicate regularly on Facebook now. I live about three hours from her, but her best friend lives ten minutes away from me. Cindy drove down a few weeks later to spend the weekend with her friend, who knows everything. We stayed at a hotel and this time I was able to fuck her. Repeatedly. It won’t happen often, but we plan to meet when we can.  |
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