We buried Momma and Grandma within a few days of the car accident that killed them. They were on their way home from visiting Granddaddy at the nursing home. He'd had a severe stroke and was mostly paralyzed, unable to move more than his head and one hand, so he was pretty much helpless. Daddy was gone, lord knows where and had been gone for the last eight years of my life leaving Momma and me to fend for ourselves. Momma and me had been sharing a room at Grandma's apartment, helping with the bills and such since Momma had gone broke a few years back.

Momma and me had also shared the same bed and I'd gotten used to sleeping next to her warm body. Truthfully, not long after we'd been sharing the bed, we'd also shared . . . intimacies. I'd been twelve when we moved into Grandma's little two-bedroom apartment and heavily into self-manipulation, you know? If you still don't get the picture, I jacked off a lot, okay? The first few days of trying to keep my hands to myself was hell. I'd lock myself in the bathroom and choke my chicken until my arms trembled, hoping that it would be enough to last me through the night lying next to Momma. Still, the warmth of her soft body and the way she held me as we slept inevitably got to me and I'd surreptitiously fondle myself.

We'd barely been there a week when, as I lay with my back against Momma, trying not to feel her soft breasts under her silky nightgown pressing against my bare back, I reached down and slowly began jacking off. When Momma's hand slid down to my hip, I froze, but when she didn't move it, I began stroking slowly once again. In the dark, I had my eyes tightly shut, not trying to ignore the two, warm spots pressing against my back anymore, as I imagined them in my hands. I was so engrossed in imagining the soft, yielding flesh of them, that I didn't feel her hand move until it was wrapped around my own hand, helping me jack off. In a panic, I let go of my prick, but Momma quickly took over and wrapped her fingers around it - closed her fist, so soft and gentle - and continued jacking me off. All I could do was lie there as she peeled my foreskin back and caressed my bare prick-head with her thumb and forefinger. Without further encouragement, I let go and came. It was the very first time that I'd cum wet. The very first time that I'd squirted anything but piss out of it.

Momma shifted a little and tried to push me onto my back. I was too embarrassed to let her. I heard her giggle softly and her gentle lips pressed lightly against my earlobe. She pushed her other arm under my head, pulling me to her as she ran swirling fingers over my bare belly. When she pulled on my hip again, I let her roll me on my back and stared up at her smiling face in the dim light. She looked like an angel hovering over me with the outside light dim through the window highlighting the scattered strands of her hair. She usually had her hair up and in a tight bun on the back of her head, but I loved to look at it when she let it down at night. She looked so darn sexy and so reachable then.

She brought her lips down on mine and kissed me - really kissed me. I was a little shocked when she pushed her tongue between my lips, but I was willing and, after all, it was Momma. Her face was so close that I had to shut my eyes. That helped me feel the sensuality of her kiss, to hear the soft slurping of our wet kiss, the hint of minty toothpaste mixed with her own flavor. I didn't want the kiss to stop and, without thinking, I slid my arms around her and kissed her back.

"That's my big boy," she murmured as she pulled back, her soft hand sliding up and down my chest and belly, caressing my young body, "my little . . . no . . . my big man," she sighed, running her hand back down to my stiff, hard, prick.

"You've grown so big," she murmured, "and it's gotten so . . . big."

"Uhm . . ." I tried to think of something to say in return, but my mind was a blank.

"Yes-s-s-s, it's nice and big," she crooned softly, kissing me again.

I groaned softly as she gripped it, then slid her hand up, just using her fingertips to hold onto my prick-head, like a nosecone in her fingers. Then, sliding my foreskin back, she slid them down, very loosely twisting, as if twisting a bottle cap, twisting on the rim, the corona. I grunted and pushed my hips up, my eyes fluttering as I lost myself in the pleasure of her touch.

I thought it was over when she pulled her arm out from under me, and opened my eyes to see her moving around to lean down over my prick. Her long, brown hair cascaded over my hips, hiding my crotch from view. As her lips closed over my cock, I thought, at first, that it was her fingers again, but then the warmth and heat, the wetness . . . and her swirling tongue made me gasp in shock and surprise. I'd heard of "blow-jobs," but now I was actually getting one - from my mother!

"Um-m-m," she gulped, "ug-gh-h-h-um-m-m," she growled, swallowing me down and licking my balls, "yes-s-s-s," she hissed coming up for air and swallowing.

Not knowing what else to do, I just lay there and enjoyed it as she dove back down and swallowed me down once more. Within a few minutes, I was ready to blow again. I grabbed her head and pulled, subconsciously trying to pull her off, thinking that I shouldn't have anything that came out of my cock going into her mouth, but she pulled my hands off and kept suckling. I groaned and threw my hips up, squirting, for only the second time in my life, into her avariciously gulping mouth. God! It felt so fucking good! I cried out, my cry sounding strangled and hoarse. Momma crooned softly deep in her throat as she pulled back, jacking me off with her fist as she sucked on the end of my fleshy straw. This time I, slowly went soft in her wet grip, trembling as Momma sucked the last dribble of cum out of me.

"Oh-h-h, Momma," I moaned, shivering reflexively.

"My man," Momma whispered, kissing her way up to my mouth.

Sliding up, I realized she'd pulled her nightgown up, baring her breasts as she slid them up my leg, her stiff nipples seeming to gouge through my hot, prickly skin. She finally lay half on me, her bare leg over mine and I pushed my arm under her head and hugged her.

For bad or good we were bonded and, later that night, she showed me how men and women make love together. At twelve, I was only a head shorter than she was, but by the time she and Grandma died, I was several inches taller and still growing . . .

As a quick note, we were still five generations of family still alive and kicking. At the time of her death, there was me, Peter Benvenue Jensen; there was Momma, Sandra Marie Jensen; Grandma, Collette Evanson; Great-Grandma, Eviemarie Johansen; and Great-Great-Grandma, Joliemarie Bourgeois. I had so many grandmothers - most of my grandfathers hadn't survived as long as they had - that I called them by various names. Grandma was Grandma, Great-Grandma Evie was Grammy and Great-Great-Grandma was Great-Ma. Until I started calling them that as a small boy, I kept confusing them. When we were all together, one would answer when I was wanting to get the attention of the other. With Grandma gone, I guessed that it wouldn't make much difference now.

And now, Grammy's pregnant. We thought she was done with all that, but she was still menstruating long after she figured she should have been going through menopause. Her gynecologist said that it wasn't that uncommon. Women didn't always quit ovulating when they were supposed to, and some didn't stop until the were in their dotage. He said that one of his colleagues had helped birth a child of a seventy-one year old woman with Alzheimer's who'd been impregnated by a male nursing-home attendant.

"How, uhm, how did that turn out?" I wondered aloud when he told me, "I mean, did the baby get turned over to an orphanage?"

He looked at me for a few seconds, his expression indecipherable. He knew I was the father of Grammy's baby, although Grammy hadn't said anything to him about it. By then, I was a gangly youth of seventeen and Grammy was very sexy sixty-three.

Okay. A little explanation. All of the women on my mother's side of the family got married very young and had their first child at anywhere from thirteen to fifteen. Momma - Sandra Jensen - had married at fourteen and had already been pregnant with me. I was an only child. Grandma, Collette Evanson, had married at fourteen and Momma had been the second of six children, born when she was fifteen. Grammy, Eviemarie Johansen, had married at fifteen and had also already been pregnant with Collette, the first of four kids. Great-Ma, Joliemarie Bourgeois - seventy-eight and still getting looks from far younger men - had married at thirteen, given birth to seven kids. Eviemarie - Grammy - was the first-born before she was fourteen.

Great-Ma Jolie told me stories of growing up while the west was still being tamed. She was happy as a lark when Grammy Evie told her that she was going to be a new Grandmother again after all these years. Great-Ma knew who the father was, since Grammy had taken me to her bed with Great-Ma's full knowledge, in fact, they were both my. . . we'll say more about that later. However, Grammy had always been sexy as hell. She didn't have much of a tummy on her and she was slender and, well . . . stacked. I mean, her tits sagged some, but they were as full and soft as Momma's and, as her pregnant belly grew, so did her breasts, creating the milk I loved to drink.

But back to Dr. Aaron and my question of what had happened to the baby he'd been describing.

"The child was the natural daughter of a union between the attendant and the demented woman and, although Child Services tried to take it, the courts awarded full custody to the attendant and he took her home to raise. He was the child's natural father, after all - or so the court decided, and he had a decent income and no other criminal record," he looked up from his scribbling and handed me a prescription, "vitamins and minerals to keep your wi- great-grandmother healthy enough to bear it, since she doesn't want the abortion I suggested."

I thanked him and stood. He ignored me and I quickly went back out to the waiting room until Grammy came out, laughing and joking with Great-Ma.

"God she's beautiful," I thought, "hell, they're both beautiful."

---

I was home, slowly stretching my cock as I waited for Momma and Grandma to get home. They'd taken off on one of their shopping trips, something about Easter Sunday and a couple of Easter frocks. Momma had cashed in her vacation time from work and Grandma had a few extra dollars to spend, so they went shopping. Momma and I had been sleeping together for almost three years by then, just before I turned sixteen. I got tired of waiting and did my homework, something I usually didn't do until my first period gym class in the mornings. Usually working on it while everybody lethargically tossed a basketball around or lazily kicked loose soccer balls. Coach didn't usually come out of his office until the period was almost over, sucking down four or five cups of coffee as he tried to overcome his usual hangover.

Anyway tonight, I finished my homework and got undressed for bed, slipping on my unused gym shorts for comfort while I puttered around the apartment, getting me a late afternoon snack. Then I parked myself in front of the TV and waited for my lady and Grandma to come home. I half-dreamed of last night in bed. I'd just slurped up her creamy pussy, getting two good orgasms out of her and as I got ready to drive into her, Momma had smiled and hugged me affectionately, saying that she hoped she'd always be "my lady." With that, I rammed into her, making her gasp and croon with pleasure.

Glancing at Grandma's wall clock, I wondered how late they were going to be. I smilingly dozed off on the couch, thinking of how good my Momma was and waiting. I awakened late that night. Looking out the window, I saw that it was dark. I didn't figure it was that late until I looked up at the wall clock again. It read one-thirty in the morning. I suddenly got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I wondered where the hell they were. My question was answered later, sometime around four that morning. I'd been sitting in front of the TV, not paying any attention to it and clicking from one channel to another, not knowing what to do when a heavy pounding on the door startled me. I sat paralyzed, suddenly scared out of my wits for a few seconds, then I jumped to my feet and ran to the door, hoping that they were too loaded down with packages to open the door or knock properly. Throwing the door open, two uniformed police officers stood at the door, one of them stared at me while the other took a quick look around through the open door.

"What the hell?!" I gaped at them.

"Peter Jensen?" the first officer asked.

"Y-yes, what . . . uhm, what can . . ." my voice faded away as I realized that two police officers were standing in front of me looking grim.

"May we come in, sir? And perhaps you'd better sit down."

I backed up as they stepped in, doffing their regulation caps. The one cop kept looking around, giving me the impression that he was looking for a wild party - or maybe the smell of dope the way he sniffed around, seeming like a dog the way his nose moved. I didn't tell him that Momma kept me well-satisfied and no amount of dope or drugs could ever make me feel as good as she did.

"I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news, sir," the first one stood in front of me.

He must have seen how apprehensively I looked up at him, because his expression softened as he hiked up his trousers and settled down on the couch beside me.

"Sir . . . your mother and grandmother were involved in a car accident which doesn't appear to have been their fault," he reached out to me, pushing me back gently as I wobbled faintly, "I don't know anything about their condition, but they're currently being treated at Memorial Medical and we will transport you there should you want to go."

My mind whirled and I nodded blankly wondering what I'd do if I didn't have Momma any longer.

"Y-yes. Please," I whispered softly, still in shock.

"You might want to get dressed, then," he pointed out kindly.

I dressed in a daze and rode silently in the back of the police car to the hospital. Both women were in surgery so I didn't get to see either of them. At the hospital, time ticked by agonizingly. An hour or more crept by like a snail that stopped often to sniff at pleasant wet spots. A soft tapping on the carpeted floor brought my eyes up, pulling me out of my misery.

"Peter!" Great-Ma Jolie cried out.

Grammy Evie and Great-Ma Jolie were just turning into the waiting room. I hadn't seen either of them in a couple of months, although Momma and Grandma were always on the phone with one or the other. Grammy and Great-Ma were dolls. Both had long since reached that uncertain age and looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. Neither was built like your standard grandmother - come to that, neither had Grandma. Had Momma not been taking real good care of me, I might have tried tapping Grandma. Grammy and Great-Ma always wore arch-breaking stilettos when they were out and about and this was no exception.

I ran my eyes up from Grammy's sandal stilettoes, up the skinny jeans that barely broke at the tops of her silk stockinged toes, to her breast-hugging silk camisole top and focused on her heavy-hanging double-E's. It was a cool night so she had her dead husband's canvas work jacket on. She had her hands in her back pockets her tote-purse hanging off a shoulder and the jacket flaps tucked back behind her hands. I loved the way she looked. It showed her big, heavy breasts off beautifully. As I slowly raised my eyes to her face, she grinned impishly.

"I was wondering how soon you'd get to my face," she pouted sweetly.

The woman had men drooling over her, but even when she had a man on her arm, she always found time to flirt with another - and Great-Ma wasn't far behind in my book. I didn't dare stand, as hard as my prick was, so I just sat there like a bump and stared up at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby," she was immediately contrite.

I looked toward Great-Ma, but she was busy talking quietly to a doctor in scrubs. Her face went white and she suddenly seemed to collapse into herself. The doctor grabbed her, trying to be careful where he put his hands, and helped her toward a chair. As they got to it, she tripped and fell into it heavily, dropping her face into her hands.

"Momma! What . . ." Grammy turned to her.

The doctor looked at both of them miserably.

"I'm so sorry, but we did all we could for them," he murmured gently.

That was the longest night of my life. Grammy and Great-Ma finally dragged me off and took me to the house they shared. The next day we went back to the hospital and made the necessary arrangements for their bodies - their bodies. They were no longer Momma and Grandma, they were now just . . . bodies. I stayed out of school the rest of the week, trailing Grammy and Great-Ma everywhere they went. I felt as if I was lost and if I wasn't close to them each and every minute, they'd disappear like Momma and Grandma had.

We buried my wonderful lady and Grandma a few days after the coroner signed off on their death certificates, stipulating that no autopsy was required for . . . the bodies. I wandered through the house for a while and when Grammy and Great-Ma went to bed, I sat up with the TV watching the local college TV station until it went off the air. I didn't bother switching to the cable and the TV itself, soon turned off.

"Smart TV," I thought, "turns itself off when it's no longer needed."

Actually, my two Grannies had it programmed to shut off at a certain time, but I didn't know it at the time as I sat there stewing in my misery. A few minutes later, I felt something in my pocket poking me and when I pulled it out, saw that it was the old apartment key. I stared at it for a long time, remembering the feel of Momma's soft, smooth skin under my hands. Remembering how she'd moved under me when we . . . made love. Remembering her feather-soft kisses on my chin, my cheeks, my throat . . . remembering how wonderful she'd felt just lying in my arms as we snuggled and slept.

Several hours later I found myself outside the old apartment. In a pathetic haze, I pushed the key in and turned it, pushing the door open and left it that way. Looking around, I saw Momma's nightgown still lying across the bed where she'd left it. That's when I finally broke down and cried. I clutched Momma's nightgown tightly to my face and fell on the bed, curling up into a fetal ball as all the pain and hurt of her loss washed over me. I loved her very much and cried for the love we would no longer share. I wept because I felt sorry for myself, wondering what I'd do without her now. I hadn't slept much since that night at the hospital and I guess the crying jag that night at the apartment, wore me out because I soon fell asleep. To paraphrase an old saying, "in sleep the loose threads of our life are gathered together and woven whole."

I guess I said goodbye to Momma as I slept, awakening the next morning still clutching Momma's nightgown. I held it to my face and breathed in her essence. She'd worn it for a couple of days, intending on washing it the day after she and Grandma went . . . shopping, and it still carried some of her odor. After a long while, I went down to the apartment's store room and dug out the old suitcases. I broke down and cried several times as I packed up her clothes and mine - in separate suitcases. Just before noon, as I was about done packing and once again crying, I heard some paper rustling and the now familiar tap-tap-tap of Grammy's heels as she came down the hallway. Before I could wipe my eyes or hide Momma's nightgown, Grammy Evie stood in the door.

"Tsk, aw-w, baby," she whispered, rushing up and gathering me in her arms as she sat down beside me, "Momma said you'd probably headed over here."

She pressed me tight to the side of her large, pillowy breasts. At the time, I was too distraught over losing Momma to enjoy them, hell, I didn't even notice them, but my body did and my cock stiffened. Clutching Momma's nightgown, I squeezed it tightly to me, wrapping my hands in it and just generally worrying it. My tears soaked into the side of her shirt and my nose was running enough for her to hold a tissue to my nose.

"Blow, baby," she whispered.

I got one of my hands loose, took the tissue from her and wiped my nose.

"I'm sorry, Grammy," I whispered.

"For what," she smiled softly, gently wiping the sides of my face with her delicate fingers, "I miss her, too. She was my favorite grand-baby."

Suddenly, she was crying, too, and we clung to each other in our misery, rocking from side to side, trying to ease the pain of the deep loss. After a while, Grammy lay back on the bed, squirming up onto the pillow and pulling me along with her. She ran her soft fingers through my hair, soothing me as we both sniffled and wept quietly. A long while later, I managed to relax enough to press against her a little more comfortably and I spooned - sort of - against her warmth. She felt almost as good as Momma and with her caressing my arm, I drifted into a half-sleep, my mind blank as I day-dreamed that it was Momma, my Lady, caressing me and crooning softly.

Inevitably, my old lust for Momma arose unbidden with my stiffening prick. Half-dopey and with my mind on more pleasant times and memories, I wasn't thinking of Grammy lying there, my mind was far away, feeling Momma's softly yielding breasts. Grammy didn't so much as flinch, caressing my hands as I gently massaged her heavy breasts, moving just enough to undo her jeans and push them and her thongs down.

I was in a different mind zone. I needed Momma's love, needed to make love to her, needed badly to plunge my cock into her soft, wet pussy and Grammy's almost automatic response showed almost as bad a need for the same comfort as mine. I groaned and tried to hump into her, but I still had my jeans on and only rubbed them uselessly against her bare ass. Grammy rolled over and undid my belt and trousers, pushing them and my drawers down impatiently. Her soft, gentle hands slid up my chest to my face as she pulled my head to her, pressing her sweetly yielding lips hungrily to mine. With a low, groaning moan, she rolled onto her back, pulling me atop her by my hair.

"G-Grammy!" I gasped.

"Sh-h-h-h," she hushed me, "hush, now."

I rolled atop her and spread her jean-hobbled knees, reaching down and pulling my prick toward her wetly gaping cunt.

"Oh-h-h, bay-bee," she gasped, seizing my stiff prick, "you are so big . . ."

I cried out, sobbing with a mixture of sorrow and lust as I plunged my stiff cock deep into her slickly welcoming pussy.

"Grammy!" I groaned hoarsely, pounding stiffly into her.

"Yes-s-s-s, baby. Hush, hush, my darling," she crooned softly, "hush."

I sobbed as I fucked my Great-Grandmother, ramming heavily in and out of her with wild, angry abandon. I wanted my mother and she wasn't there. I was angry that she'd left me like that. Angry that she wasn't coming back. The suppressed anger from the child I'd been when my father left us, rose and joined that anger and I pounded my Great-Grandmother's cunt with all my strength and all the suppressed rage. I gripped her soft, delicately yielding hips tightly as I slammed into her again and again. I heard Grammy's thin, wailing cry of pain as I squeezed hard, hammering my enraged cock deep into her over and over. Her small hands scrabbled on mine as she tried to break my painful grip. Suddenly, she tossed her head back and stiffened, moaning as her hands gripped mine tightly, trembling as her mouth gaped. With a mewling, open-mouthed cry from deep in her throat, she threw her hips up into mine and gave a deep, groaning, guttural cry. Her hips shuddered on my stiff cock, her pelvis rocking at high speed as I bruised her tender pussy lips with my pounding pubis.

"OhGod!" she gasped, her eyes popping wide.

For a few seconds, she stared up at me in wonder, her eyes wide and pupils completely dilated. Then they kind of glazed over as she tossed her head from side to side, crying out again, her pussy clutching and releasing me as she came again. Her exquisitely agonizing grip tightened on my cock, her fingernails digging painfully into my tightly gripping hands. The milking of her cunt caressing the tender ridge around my cock-head and the stinging pain of her gripping fingernails brought my rage down and I blasted my cum deep into her, filling her slick depths with my virile, spermy cum.

"Gram-MEE-EE-EE!!" I gasped hoarsely.

"OH-H-H-AH-H-H," Grammy cried loudly, "oh, jee-zus-s-s, GOD-D-D!"

Her hips shuddered to a stop as she jerked from one orgasm to another, cumming and cumming on my spurting cock. Gasping and crying out, panting and shuddering, she came and came and came. I finally let go of her hips and she gently heaved under me as we lay for a few quiet seconds, gathering our breath as I dribbled the last of my hot cream into her. A few minutes later, Grammy finally broke the awkward silence that had fallen over us both.

"Petey?"

"Uhm, y-yes ma'am," I whispered.

I felt suddenly shy despite the fact that my cum oozed out of her and my cock was still buried in her softly grasping pussy.

"Don't you ma'am me, you hot-blooded little stud-muffin," she smiled gently.

"Uhm . . ."

"I gotta go pee, baby," she pulled my face down, pressing her lipstick-smeared mouth to mine, "then we gotta talk, kay?"

"Uhm . . ." I slowly rolled off her.

"Suddenly shy, are we," she teased, sliding off the bed.

"Uhm . . ."

She giggled as she pulled her jeans up enough to hobble to the bathroom. As she disappeared down the hall, I quickly reached under the bed. Yep, there it was, the old tee shirt I kept under there, a remnant of my jacking off days. I stood and quickly wiped off, pulled my clothes back up and, by the time Grammy came back in, I had my shorts back on and sat on the side of the bed. She stood in the door for a few seconds, her fists on her hips, legs slightly spread, looking sternly beautiful. I finally looked up at her, unable to believe that I'd just had her under me. That I'd fucked her and pounded my cum deep into her wetly grasping cunt. As I stared at her, looking miserable, her stance eased and she let out a deep sigh, slowly walking up to the bed. As I glanced down, I realized that she'd taken her heels off and had rolled up the cuffs of her jeans. Somehow, she looked even more desirable, like a sweet young girl strolling toward me in stockinged feet. I hadn't realized it at the time, but I'd noticed that she wore a garter belt, so she was wearing stockings not pantyhose. Still not saying anything, she dropped down beside me, draped an arm around my shoulders and leaned her head on mine, looking sad. She brought her other hand up and ran it from my opposite shoulder, down my arm and over my hand, caressing it gently then interlaced her fingers with mine.

"You must have made some really good memories of Sandy," she finally whispered softly.

How did she know? I wondered stupidly.

"I, uh, I guess," I half-shrugged, squeezing her interlaced fingers gently.

"Were y'all, uhm, planning on maybe raising a family?" she whispered, running her fingers over my ear and along the side of my head.

"I, uh . . ."

I was lost. I hadn't really thought about kids. Not with Momma. Hell, I was her kid. The thought of having kids with my mother sounded . . . incestuous. But then, wasn't having sex with your mother incest? My head spun and I let go of Grammy's hand, dropping my head in both of mine as I began crying again. She hugged me tight, pressing my head to her soft, ample breasts and resting her chin on top of my head as she, too, wept.

"Hush, baby," she whispered, her voice breaking as she sobbed.

For another long time, we clung together and wept, rocking back and forth in our misery. Finally, I had to go to the bathroom. Coming back down the hall, I found Grammy sitting at the kitchen table, staring into an empty paper bag and the sound of the coffee maker in the background. On the table were other empty bags of the Chinese food she'd brought with her earlier.

"Hungry?" she smiled up at me, "I'm starved. It's been a long time since breakfast and I don't believe you've eaten anything since supper last night, have you? Hm?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess," I mumbled, looking at her wonderingly.

The table was a small square thing, made for an apartment. As I pulled out a chair, the microwave dinged and Grammy got up and bustled around, finding plates and setting out the food. She dug out a couple of glasses and filled them with ice, popping open a liter bottle of coke. As she busied herself with the drinks, I opened the cartons of food and dished it out, filling her plate first. Picking up the bag, I dug out the chopsticks and looked at them distastefully, but Grammy set a knife and fork beside me. As she moved behind me to sit, she paused and pulled my hair back from my forehead, smiling down at me as I looked up questioningly.

"You'll be alright, honey," she patted my shoulder, "Momma told me not to leave without you. We don't want you getting lost. I love you, baby. You've grown into a . . . rather handsome man."

"Thank you," I smiled up at her hesitantly.

Grammy was about to say something, but her cell phone buzzed just then and she grabbed her purse - almost a tote bag, I thought - and dug through it. By the time she had it in her hand, it had stopped.

"That was the home phone," Grammy fussed and quickly punched a number.

I watched her push the speaker button, lay the phone down and we listened to it ringing as she picked up her knife and fork.

"I've been gone quite a while," she murmured, "she's probably wondering -"

"Hello? Evie?" Great-Ma's voice sounded a bit tinny over the phone's tiny speaker.

"Yes, Momma, we were just sitting down to eat. We've got you on the speaker. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner, how are you bearing up?" Grammy shoveled a forkful of food in her mouth.

"Oh, I'm doing fine, I guess, how's Petey?"

Grammy, her mouth full, nodded toward me to answer.

"Uhm . . ." I cleared my throat, swallowing what I had in my mouth, "I'm fine, Great-Ma, I love you," I smiled at Grammy, getting more comfortable with the situation.

"Oh, I love you, too, baby," I could almost hear Great-Ma smiling as she spoke, "are you feeling alright? Is Evie taking good care of you?"

And damn good care she's taking of me, I thought to myself.

"Yes, ma'am," I gulped out, my face turning red as I glanced at Grammy's impish grin, "she's taking real good .. . care of me."

Grammy's grin grew even bigger. Shaking her head, she pointed to me then to herself, mouthing "you're taking care of me," and gave me a wide, fatuous smile, batting her eyes as if she was a flirty little girl. I almost snorted with uncontrolled laughter as I listened to Great-Ma's voice.

"That's good, well, you take care of whatever you have to take care of - and pack whatever you'll need, especially your school books. I've got your room fixed up and ready for you to move in, okay? And, baby? I love you and I know Evie loves you so there's nothing to worry about. I guess you'll have to put up with two old ladies from here on out, does that sound too awful bad?"

"What two old ladies?" I teased, "are you bringing a couple of old biddies in to look after me?"

Grammy reached across and caressed my hand, chuckling loud enough for Great-Ma to hear.

"You are a tease," Great-Ma laughed, "you're about as bad as your Granddaddy - er, Great-Gran - er, my deceased husband," she finally laughed.

"So now, I'm a departed old man, hm?" I chuckled.

"No! No," her laughter stopped and she seemed to sober quickly, "baby, I'm glad to hear you joking," she gave a deep sigh, "I guess you're going to be okay . . . I guess we're all going to be okay."

"Yes, ma'am, we are," I sighed.

"Don't you ma'am me, you little scamp," Great-Ma's smile again carried over the tiny speaker, "are you planning on staying there tonight, too?"

"I, uhm, I don't know, Great-Ma, I've still got some packing to do besides figuring out where my school books are. I gotta finish packing . . ." I half-sobbed, my lips quivering, "M-M-Momma's things."

"Well . . ." she sighed again, "take your time. I know you've got to say your goodbyes, in your own way. I've got Tony, Neil and their wives set to come over and pack Collette's things after you give me the go ahead, okay, honey?"

Tony and Neil were Momma's cousins, uncles of mine, I guess.

"Yes, ma'am - I mean, Great-Ma," I quickly corrected myself, listening to her chuckle at that.

"Are you going to stay with him, Evie? I mean, I won't be alone tonight, I've got a houseful over here. Some of Collette and Sandy's cousins and I don't know who else. They brought food and just sent one of the boys out to get a couple of bottles of wine, so . . ."

"Yes, Momma," Grammy finally managed to get a word in, "we'll be along, maybe in the morning. We'll leave Sandy's stuff packed up here and just bring Petey's stuff with us."

I went back to eating as Grammy talked with Great-Ma. My food had cooled a little, but it was okay, I loved Chinese food, hot or cold. A few minutes later, Grammy hung up, saying that Great-Ma had been called away and, for a while, we just sat and ate without speaking. Finally, we picked up the conversation, more or less, where we'd left off. We talked about a number of things as we ate. We talked about school and my plans for after high school - I'd be a senior that following year - if I hadn't bombed out already by staying out of school this past week - and she told me that Grandma had set up a scholarship fund for me not long after I'd been born, so depending on the school I wanted, it would probably pay for a good part of my tuition. Then we got to talking about Momma and my private relationship with her.

"I know you and Sandy had started a, uhm, a special relationship, honey," Grammy began, "and maybe one day you'll find someone else to fill the emptiness you feel now," she reached across and, with her gentle thumb, wiped off a tear sliding down my cheek.

"Yeah, well . . ." I sighed, just short of sobbing, but she pressed a finger to my lips to hush me.

"You know, I also had a special relationship with my middle boy," she stopped me as I gulped, "it was like the relationship you had with your Momma. See, your Momma told Collette, Momma and me all about it a few days after the first time you two had sex together. We Bourgeois women are kind of into . . . well, into incest, I guess, because we seem to outlive or outlast our husbands, so we stick together, you know? Besides, we've all, everyone of us, always been more like sisters than mothers and daughters and we try to take care of our men, you know? I tried to comfort you the best way I knew how, giving you the comfort you wanted . . . and I'll keep doing that, if you want me to . . . if you'll let me, okay? You're mine just as much as you are your mother's, your grandmother's and my mother's . . . and I love you - we all love you - very, very much, okay? We'll do anything to make you happy, including . . . you know."

"Yeah," I nodded, thinking that the comfort included sex.

I suddenly wondered if Great-Ma was as good in bed as Momma and Grammy. Then I thought about what Grammy had said about her relationship with her middle boy, which would be . . . Uncle Jim? It was all pretty much a revelation for me as I mulled it over. Some of the things she'd said settled in my mind and I looked up at her.

"Your middle boy?" I squeaked in wonder.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, chewing and swallowing her cold rice, "I had your Grandma at fourteen and the three boys came one right after the other soon after. Let's see, there was Michael, Danny and Adam.

"Okay," I thought, "Uncle Jim was Great Aunt Maggie's kid then."

"See, I fell in love with Danny when he was eleven and, long before his daddy died, he and I used to sneak off and fool around," she smiled fondly, "it kind of dropped off when he got married. Oh, we still got together every once in a while, but I surely did miss him when his job sent him to Canada."

"Umph," I nodded, my mouth full and my mind whirling with thoughts.

"However, Collette, your Grandma, kept her Daddy happy," Grammy grinned, "they thought I didn't know, but they were just too obvious for their own good. I had to run interference for them a few times. I do think that when she finally married Jamie Evanson, she was carrying her Daddy's baby. It certainly looked a lot like a Bourgeois male when he was born. Even Momma, your Great-Ma, fooled around with two of my brothers, Eddie and Tommy. I swear they were twins that were born a year apart, you know? They seemed to have the same thing on their minds and she took care of them both, bedding them together. They must have had some fun together."

She ate the whole time she talked, never giving by gesture or whisper that what she said was anything to hide or sweep under the rug. The way she talked, the whole family knew all about these affairs of the "hard-on" that the women had once had. I was dumbfounded to hear all these things about my Grandma, my Grammy and my Great-Ma. With my cock half-stiff, I fantasized about fucking Great-Ma as well, wondering if she was also willing to take me on, I mean, Great-Uncle Tommy and Great-Uncle Eddie were still alive, although Great-Uncle Tim, Great-Aunt Rose and Great-Aunt Maggie had already passed on. When Grammy stood to carry the dishes to the sink to wash them, I stared at her deliciously compacted figure, seeing her in a new, very sexy light. She was still as trim and slender as a girl. Heck, Momma and Grandma had also been slender with svelte, girlish figures - and big boobs. Everyone of my female relatives from Momma's side of the family - all the Bourgeois women - were trim, slender and had big knockers.

I got up from the table and brought my empty milk glass to the sink for Grammy. Out of habit, maybe more out of instinct, I slid my hand across Grammy's back and down over her softly packed rump. Like I said, it was a habit I'd had with Momma. I liked to caress her ass whenever I came close to her. I'd never been able to keep my hands off her. So, as I came up to the sink I automatically reached out and ran my hand across the small of her back, then down and back to me, making a full circuit of her luscious rump. As Grammy gave me an appreciative smile over her shoulder, surprise at what I'd just done, jolted through me.

"I - I - I," I stuttered.

"You're okay, hon," Grammy smiled, "that felt nice. I haven't had a man really feel my ass just for the pleasure of it."

I stood there for a few seconds, reeling in shock at what I'd done, but she only smiled again as she rinsed off the dishes.

"I go out a lot," she pursed her lips, "and every man I've dated these past few years is some kind of an old codger who seems to think he's still hot and sexy. It's hard for me to get a date with a decent guy that still has some get-up and go. The younger guys think I'm too old to . . . to . . . to, uhm, to fuck and the old guys think they still can and both kinds leave me completely frustrated, you know? The sex we had earlier was just what I needed . . . except for that damn, wonderful grip of yours."

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, Grammy, I, uhm . . ."

"Forget it," she giggled "even that felt delicious, even though you left my hips all black and blue," she giggled again, "God, I came so hard and so many times. I swear, I haven't had a good orgasm like that - or cum as much - in a long while. Hell, I've never had more than two orgasms in a single . . . uhm . . ."

"Yes, ma'am," I backed away feeling embarrassed - too much information, I thought, "I'm gonna go finish, uhm . .. gonna do some more, uhm, p-packing, okay? I'll, I'll, uhm, I'll be in the bedroom, uh . . ."

I hurried out, leaving Grammy to putter around in the kitchen while I packed the rest of my belongings and boxed the last of Momma's things. I felt deeply saddened, although I didn't cry anymore. I seemed to be all cried out and, with the food in me, began feeling more normal. I'd said goodbye to Momma and, finally, all that was left to do was to pack her things away. I still missed her very much and the loss I felt would probably never go away, but I didn't want to ever forget her, so I packed her nightgown with my stuff.

---

We finished packing all of Momma's and my things around two that morning. By then Grammy had stripped off her jeans and had slipped into one of Grandma's old nightgowns, a very short one. Grandma's breasts hadn't been as big, but Grammy didn't wear her bra under it, so it fit okay - damn did it fit okay! I really did expect her to sleep in Grandma's room in spite of our morning activity and I caught quick peeks of her as she walked back and forth in the kitchen fixing us a couple of cups of hot tea before going to bed. Turning off the overhead lights, I left the beside lamp on, changed into shorts, then went in the kitchen.

"How do you like your tea, baby?" Grammy asked, in a soft, very sexy voice.

"Ah-h, a spoon of sugar or sweetener, couple drops of lemon."

Without saying anything, Grammy fixed my cup and set it in front of me, settling into the chair beside me and tucking a curvy leg under her. She wasn't wearing her stockings and her legs looked smooth and silky with just the slightest bit of skin sag. I guess it was because of her age.

"I just got my first Social Security check," she sighed, "makes me feel so damn old, you know?" then quickly added, "of course you don't. You still got a lot of years to go yet."

"You don't feel old," I blurted without thinking, "I, I, I mean . . ."

Her peal of laughter interrupted me.

"I mean . . . uhm, uhm . . ."

"Thank you, hon," she laughed, "thank you, but I don't mean on the outside, it's just that . . . that . . . I don't know. I don't feel old either. I can't be old if I'm still menstruating, you know?"

I didn't. I also knew nothing about menstruating, so, not wanting to stick my foot in my mouth again, I said nothing. Then she completely astonished me again, immediately bringing my cock to stiff attention.

"Wanna sleep together again?" she peered over her cup at me, hiding her hesitant smile as she looked sideways at me.

"Can we?!" I blurted, a little too eagerly.

"I take it that's a yes," Grammy chortled, then leaned close, almost touching her head to mine, "I did a couple of enemas in case you wanna do me back there . . . that's my personal fave, you know."

I froze in place as I thought about it.

"Oh fuck!" I thought my cock getting even stiffer, fuck her asshole?!?!

I wanted to grab her and rush her to bed immediately, but I hesitated. She suddenly upped the ante by laying her panties - silk thongs - on the table. It took me a few seconds to realize what they were, but when I did, I stood and, grabbing her hand, almost dragged her to bed.

"No, baby," Grammy shook her head, "that's Sandy and your bed. I'd rather not sleep in your woman's bed, let's take the other one. It's a bigger bed."

So, I let her lead me to Grandma's bed.

"I'll do anything you want me to, baby, as long as you kiss me like you mean it," Grammy murmured, "none of the men I've dated have ever kissed me like they meant it. I usually just get a peck on the lips . . . w-will you?"

"Grammy, I . . ."

I didn't finish, instead, I stopped her at the door to Grandma's bedroom and, pulling her face to mine - Grammy was a little taller than me at the time - kissed her, wrapping my arms completely around her slender waist, holding her tight and putting all of my heart into my lips and mouth. She was my Grammy and of course I loved her. At the time, that was how I felt. Later, I felt for her much like I'd felt for Momma before she left me.

As we kissed, she moaned deep in her throat, hugging me back just as tight. We hobbled to the bed and fell into it, still hugging and holding on to each other. Grammy reached down to my waist, gripped my waistband and pushed down. As I kicked off my shorts, she rolled onto her back, pulling me atop of her. Spreading her soft, jiggling thighs, she sighed and closed her eyes as I dropped my hips between them, plunging my stiff cock deep into her hot, slick cunt.

"Ah-hungh!" I grunted.

"Oh-h-h-oo-ooh-h-h," she wailed softly, tossing her hips up into mine.

My God, she was so slick, so tight, so fucking good! Grammy's slick cunt felt as wonderful as, as . . . as Momma's! I hugged her tight, feeling her insides gripping my ramming cock.

"Momma," I mouthed, weeping quietly without speaking.

I wept as I lipped and tongued Grammy's baby soft throat and chest, plunging my stiff cock in and out of her tightly gripping pussy.

"I love you, Momma," I inadvertently blurted out.

"Yes-s-s, bay-bee-ee," Grammy moaned, "I know you love her and, and - ooh, yes-s-s - and you n-n-need her - oh, honey! Yes-s-s! Fuck Grammy's pussy, baby. It'll all be better one day, sweetheart."

I slammed into her, fucking her softly yielding pussy, weeping as I held her tight, caressing her baby softness. Momma hadn't felt as smooth nor as soft. Momma had been firm and so well-toned that she could have been a model for a "Buns of Steel" commercial, but Grammy was different. She didn't believe in heavy exercise and I found myself enjoying the feel of her soft, yielding flesh under me. Her ass-cheeks felt like a baby's butt-cheeks, soft and almost doughy. A wonderful feel under my grasping hands. Grammy moaned as I squeezed them roughly, using them to pull her crushingly to me, slamming into her with all the power and force I could muster. She whimpered, closing her eyes, grimacing with the painful pleasure of the lusty, tormenting rape.

"Oh-h-h-h, f-f-f-fuck-k-k-k, G-Gram-mee-ee," I hissed in her ear.

"Yes-s-s, bay-bee-ee," Grammy mewled in a high whine, "oh-h-h . . . Oh-God! Oh, yes-s-s, my darling . . ."

Sliding my hands up her baby-soft, fleshy sides, I cupped both her huge breasts in my hands, gathering them together from where they hung on each side of her narrow chest. They were enormous, soft and loosely yielding, as soft and buttery smooth as her sweet, giving ass-cheeks. I pressed my face between them, rocking my hips as I thrust back and forth, plunging my quivering cock in and out of her exquisitely slurping cunt. I suddenly realized, once again, that Momma was no longer here to hold me and reveled in the live feel of Grammy's grasping cunt, the cushiony feel and the soft pillowy denseness of her heavy breasts.

Grammy shuddered and pulled me tightly to her as she came, then crooned softly, running her soft, tender hands up and down my back and sides, grasping and massaging my heaving buttocks, her baby-soft thighs gripped my ribs as she rocked back and forth, rubbing them up and down. I felt the slender heels of her tiny feet bouncing on my ass and upper thighs as I plowed heavily into her loosely grasping furrow.

"UH-H-H-H-GAW-W-WD-D-D!!" Grammy squealed and arched upward, her heels playing a fast tattoo on my ass as she squealed wordlessly and stiffened, quivering as she came again.

"Yes, Grammy!" I groaned.

I slammed deeper and deeper into her, shoving into the mattress with my toes, digging them into the bedding as I felt the rising tenderness in my cock.

"Ohgawd, Gram-MEE-EE!!" I growled in a deep guttural voice.

"Petey-Petey-Petey-Petey-Petey . . . PEE-EE-TEE-EE-EE!!!!" Grammy almost shrieked, her voice sounding breathless and as guttural as mine.

As I blasted my hot cum into her greedy, tightly gripping, sucking cunt, she moaned again, shivering stiffly as she came again and again. With each slamming thrust into her, I squirted hot blasts of spermy cum into her, backing up and slamming stiffly into her again and again and again. The feel of her gripping cunt on my cock, the rapidly slickening roughness of her g-spot sliding on top of my cock were so fucking wonderful. Her eyes rolled back, fluttering as she threw her head back and arched up, pressing her soft, gently rounded tummy into my tightening abdomen. I grunted with each heavy thrust into her, blasting a hot squirt of cum with each thrust. She finally gave one last quivering gasp and eased back, her grimace of lust easing as she opened her eyes and stared with an unfounded wonder into my face. As I thrust into her, rocking her up and down, she smiled and slid her hands up my back, under my loosely hugging arms and cupped my chin.

"That's my man," Grammy crooned softly, caressing the sides of my face, her soft hands gently pushing the hair out of my face, "my big, big man."

She kissed my hands as I slid them up, still clutching her softly yielding breasts between my arms. They were a delight to me - soft, cushiony and so pillowy as I rested my head on them, my hips rocking slower and slower into her as my balls ran out of cum to feed her slurping cunt.

"You're my sweet baby," she crooned softly, running gentle fingers through my hair, "my darling, sweet boy," she whispered.

Sliding her hands up my arms, she gripped my hands, pulling first one then the other to her lips, kissing and nibbling my palms and fingers.

"You're wonderful, Grammy," I sighed, holding her great breasts up between my arms and nuzzling them, licking and nibbling her nipples.

"WHOO! Baby, they're very tender after sex," she giggled, "love them, but go easy on them, kay?"

"Yes, Grammy," I grinned, lapping at them with my tongue, suckling on the hard, firm tips.

"Oo-OOH-h-h, yes-s-s," she pushed them up to me, "um-m-m."

We lay entwined together for a long while, kissing and caressing each other. Suddenly, Grammy began crying and hugged me, wrapping her flaccidly muscled legs tight around my hips as she gripped me hard.

"I miss my babies," she sobbed, huge tears rolling out of her eyes.

I held her, rocking her gently, my soft prick still buried in the warmth of her wet, cocooning cunt.

"Oh, God, Petey," she sobbed, "It just hit me! I'll never see my baby and my grand-baby again!" she hiccuped, "I was so busy trying to keep you from hurting that I," she choked, "that I didn't even think . . ."

I rolled off to the side, my soft prick slipping out of her with a soft slurp as I pulled her against me, pressing her silky, gray-haired head to my shoulder as I hugged her, feeling her fresh tears cooling on my shoulder. I guess I felt the same way and thought about how I'd felt so sorry for myself about Momma leaving that I hadn't thought about anybody else's pain. I loosened my tight hug and let her roll to me, pressing her soft, heavy pillows against my chest as she wept. I no longer felt sorry for myself, no longer felt angry that Momma had left me. I only felt sad for the way she and Grandma had died, sad for the emptiness they'd left in Grammy and Great-Ma's lives as well as mine. They had not only been my mother and grandmother, but also Grammy's daughter and granddaughter and Great-Ma's granddaughter and great-granddaughter.

At the time, I didn't find it odd that I'd made love to my great-grandmother - that we both lay naked, my seed oozing out of her as I comforted her while she wept in sorrow and anguish. I rocked her gently, murmuring soft words, telling her what she'd told me earlier, that everything would be all right - and it would. We were healthy, warm and alive. A few minutes later, I once again covered her with my body, my cock stiffening as every horny teenage boy's usually does, and made love to her. This time I was much more gentle, more loving and, as I drained into her, I dozed off, her gentle, sweet hands caressing my back, sides and arms.

Grammy had not taken birth control in years, I found out later. She once told me that the old men she dated used condoms, more to avoid STD's than anything else because they only came in little dribbles and it would take a really fertile young woman to get pregnant from that. When we began making love together, it never dawned on either of us that she was fecund enough for impregnation, so we made love, fucked, if you will, with passion and vigor.

When I awakened, late the next morning, her buttocks were pressed warmly against my crotch, the arch of her back tight to my belly. I held her slender shoulders tight to my chest. Remembering that she'd said she'd cleaned her colon out for me got me even stiffer. Reaching down, I spread her ass cheeks and pressed my thick, spear point to her puckered anus.

"Um-m-m-m-m," Grammy crooned as she came awake, "I like the way you wake a girl up, baby."

"Uhm, well . . . you said it was okay, and . . ."

"It is, baby, but it's a dry hole so if you don't use some Vaseline or at least some spit, both of us are going to get pretty raw, y'know?"

"I didn't think about that," I mumbled.

"I think I saw some Vaseline in the night stand behind you, Collette uses it - used to use it - to moisturize," Grammy gulped, her eyes tearing as she remembered her dead daughter.

"Yeah, okay," I half-turned trying to reach the night stand.

Unable to reach it that way, I finally pulled away from Grammy and rolled over to dig for the Vaseline. Grammy had rolled over also and took it from me.

"Here, let me," she smiled, popping the top.

With a dainty touch, she dipped a couple of fingers in it, handed the small jar back to me and, as I capped it and set it back, smoothed the chilly stuff all over my stiff prick. Her warm, gentle touch got me even harder. She giggled as she rolled back over, presenting her soft, slightly saggy ass to me.

"Spread it for me," she murmured, "I gotta put some there, too."

I watched her smear the remainder on and in her asshole, pushing a long-nailed finger to the first knuckle and wiggling it around. It looked so sexy that I couldn't wait to replace it with my cock.

"Okay, baby boy," Grammy sighed as I handed her a tissue to wipe her fingers with, "feed my asshole," she giggled again.

With that invitation, I touched the tip of my cock-head to her soft anus and pushed in.

"Easy, baby," Grammy murmured, "go easy until you get the head all the way in, then you can drive me downtown as fast and hard as you want."

I only grunted and, as her asshole eased and loosened, pressed through her flinching sphincter. With my cock-head halfway through, she involuntarily clamped tight, squeezing my head so damn tight that I gasped with the sudden pleasure. It felt so fucking good! There was something about the pressure of her colon on just the head as it slid through her smooth anus.

"Um-m-m," Grammy moaned softly, "sorry, baby . . ." she eased her gripping asshole as I slowly slipped into her.

"Ah-h-h," I sighed, it was so-o-o fucking good!

"Oh-jeez!" Grammy gasped, shivering with pleasure.

I pushed in deeper and deeper, feeling her quivering colon rippling around my sensitive crown, my blunt point spreading her wider and wider. In my pleasure, I crooned softly deep in my throat, not recognizing the sound as coming from me. Her bowels felt nice and slick and I guessed that the Vaseline had only been used to gain entry through her dry anus. Wrapping my arms completely around her, I nuzzled the back of her neck, burrowing my nose into the soft, silky mass of silvery hair. In the back of my mind I noticed that she didn't use hair spray, her hair didn't feel stiff and starchy, it only smelled fresh, like daisies. Grandma's hair had smelled like that -I guess when Grammy had bathed earlier, she'd used Grandma's shampoo.

Rocking gently, I slowly fucked my Grammy's loosely gripping asshole, her sweetly sagging butt-cheeks flattening against my hips. It felt so good. Her sphincter tightened, gripping my stiff shaft as I slid back and forth through it, the slight friction adding a delicious feel to her rippling colon on my cock's crown as it caressed my sensitive flesh. Grammy gripped my hands, pulling my arms around her and snuggled back against me, wriggling her head under mine. Turning slightly, she puckered in mute request for a kiss. Still rocking into her, I pressed my lips to hers.

"That feels so good, honey," she murmured, "I feel just like I did in my Daddy's arms. So safe, so secure, so .. . loved."

"Your Daddy used to . . . uhm . . . used to . . ."

"Yeah," she whispered, "it didn't take long for me to grow to love it. He used to tell me that he loved me so much, that he didn't want to get me pregnant, you know? And that he wanted me to save my virginity for my marital bed."

She paused for a long time as I processed this little bit of news. I had learned so much about my Grandma, and now Grammy, just in the last day and a half. I'd never dreamed that they'd had so much going with their fathers, but it didn't matter. I'd always loved them both, not like I'd loved Momma, but I'd loved them just the same. They were my blood and my flesh.

"Tell me you lo-" Grammy began.

"I love you, Grammy," I spoke at the same time.

"That you love me, even . . ." she stopped and twisted her head, her cool, gray eyes staring into mine.

"Even what, Grammy," I murmured, "I do love you, very, very much."

"I was gonna say, even if you don't mean it, because I love you, Petey. You're my grand-baby's baby and I love you. I guess I love you more than a grandma should."

I stopped my heavy rocking into her, slowing and just rolling my hips. She was so damn good! I loved the way her insides gripped and squeezed my cock's rim. I loved how her sphincter gripped my driving shaft so tight. Did I mention that she felt really fucking good?

"You're not my grandmother," I denied softly, teasingly, kissing the side of her face, "you're my great-grandmother," I grinned down at her, "a really great grandmother at that. The greatest grandmother in the world."

Grammy twisted her head and shoulders to stare up at me in disbelief, then she smiled and chuckled, staring up at the ceiling, shaking her head as she chuckled, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Oh. Well. That's different then," she turned her eyes back to me and we both began laughing.

At first our laughter was almost normal, but then her laughter became almost hysterical. I stopped laughing and stared down at her for a few seconds, not knowing what to do as her eyes filled with tears. Her hands came up as her laughter turned into deep, racking sobs. With her chest and shoulders turned abnormally, she wrapped her arms around my neck, my cock slipping half out of her asshole as we hugged. I kissed away her tears and, with a deep sigh, slipped completely out of her, turned her the rest of the way, kissed fucking her ass goodbye and held her close, still kissing her wet cheeks and eyes.

"I'm sorry, Petey," Grammy moaned, her whole body shaking with her deep, excruciating sobs, "I miss them so much."

I held her close, my own tears of sorrow mingling with hers as I pressed my cheek to hers. I rocked her gently as we gained a measure of comfort from each other. A long while later, she ran her fingers along the curve of my chin, scraping the two-day's growth with her long fingernails. It wasn't much, I was only sixteen, but it was coming in nicely.

"Wanna finish?" she grinned, "I don't wanna leave you all frustrated, besides, I'm selfish and I love the way Daddy's cum warmed my belly. I've missed that. I didn't realize how much until you had your cock in me, filling me like that," she smiled invitingly up at me, "hm? How about it?"

I grinned down at her, my cock still stiff and hard.

"Face to face, hm?" Grammy added as I tried to turn her over.

"Uhm . . ."

"I'll show you," she whispered, caressing my face, "get on me like we're gonna make love regular, kay?"

I nodded doubtfully, sliding over her. Grammy brought her knees up my sides, trying to get her feet under my shoulders.

"Here. Lemme get my feet up under you . . ." she fussed, "it'll . . ."

I lifted one arm after the other, letting her bend almost double as her pussy leveled and her asshole came up nicely.

"Now . . ." she paused breathlessly.

She didn't need to give me any further instructions. I pressed my spongy, blunt spearhead against her softly yielding anus, gently pressing down into her. She gave a weak little wail of pleasure, grunting with the gentle agony of her severe position.

"I'd . . . forgotten . . . how hard it was . . . like this," she gasped, "b-b-but . . . oh-damn . . ."

The backs of her thighs quivered with the tension of being stretched out like that. Leaning back, I tried not to push down any harder on them than I already was, but she felt so fucking good. Her sphincter clamped down tight, gripping my plunging shaft marvelously. We were both still pretty slick, the Vaseline hadn't rubbed off completely and I slammed into her hard.

"Ooh-baby," Grammy moaned softly, "that's . . . so good. Um-m-m-m . . . yes! You's my . . . Daddy, honey. That's . . . that's . . . my bay - AH-H-H . . ."

As I rammed in and out of her, her legs relaxed little by little as I unwittingly pressed on them until I was finally resting heavily on the backs of her legs. Her breasts sagged to the sides and I gathered them together once more, sliding them up between her legs. As I slammed my sensitive cock-head into her squirming colon, I bent and suckled on the stiff tips of her nipples, licking and nibbling gently.

"Oh-GAWD!" Grammy cried out, her voice climbing into a high squeal, "OHGAWD! PEE-TEE-EE!!" she shuddered, cumming on my plunging cock and nibbling teeth, "ah-h-h-h-FUCK! Petey . . ."

Another first. It was the first time I'd heard Grammy use the word. Suddenly, I felt myself spurting. Grunting, I slammed heavily into her, blasting a hot squirt deep into her writhing colon.

"Ohyes! Yes-s-s-s," Grammy hissed, her narrow little heels digging into the tops of my shoulders as she pulled herself up tightly, "oh-h-h-h-h, yes-s-s-s-s . . . that is so-o-o good, baby. Be my Daddy, baby . . . you's my sweet Daddy . . . my darling, darling Daddy."

Her sphincter gripped my shaft so wonderfully tight. The pressure of her colon gripping my sensitive cock-head so delicious as I plunged into her stiffly again and again, spurting my hot cream deep into her with each delicious thrust. Grammy closed her eyes, her hands scrabbling up and down, pulling me toward her, ravaging my arms and back with her long, sharp fingernails. She loved my cock pounding her grasping asshole. She could feel my pubis crushing her enfolded clittie, but the pleasure for her wasn't in the sex as much as it was in the feeling of the power and control over her. It was being in my arms, feeling the way she'd felt as a little girl when her father had dominated her, had exquisitely overpowered her with his huge maleness.

Her father had spoiled her for many men because she'd demanded that she be brought to heel by sheer force of will. At the time, I didn't recognize that same latent power and determination she subconsciously wanted. Submitting her willing asshole to me and, in effect, giving me her heart and body, if not her soul, something she'd never done to any man other than her father. I was unaware of those thoughts and feelings in her as I sighed and wrapped my arms completely around her doubled body, hugging her to me as I quivered, dribbling the last of my spermy semen into her barren asshole.

I gave a deep double-sigh. Grammy cupped my face and pulled my head toward her, covering my face with little licking kisses and smiling radiantly up into my eyes. Smiling down at her, I felt that a subtle change had come over her - over us lie a shift in power and authority. I could feel her waiting on me to make the next move, waiting for me to tell her what to do.

"Uhm . . . th-that was wonderful, Grammy," I whispered, her soft hands still cupping my face gently.

"Yes, sir," she nodded, sounding almost girlish, "it was grand. I loved it."

Her eyes remained wide, staring into mine limpidly. Her pupils widely dilated, almost hiding the gray of her eyes, almost as if she was on drugs of some kind and that the drug was a mixture of adoration and love, a drug for which there has never been an antidote and no relief for. That the feeling was motivated by what she'd felt for her father made no difference. A woman's love for any other man is only a transfer of her original love for the first man in her life, the first man she'd ever wanted to make love to - her father.

I rocked to one side and let one of her legs slide down, then rocked to the other and let her other leg down. My softening cock still buried deep in her colon, held there by her tightly gripping sphincter.

"Uhm-m-m," Grammy groaned, arching upward in some pain, "darn hips," she muttered, "God, I hate getting old."

I chuckled at her complaint, but she made no move to push me off and ease the pain in her hips. Her wide-spread thighs quivered as she caressed my back and shoulders and combed my long hair with her slender fingers. I dozed, not quite sleeping nor fully awake as I enjoyed her soft ministrations. Her grip on my cock eased as I lay on her and began slipping out of her. Her gentle caresses slowed until she finally just lay quietly under me. The ambient light slowly brightening to full daylight, yet we continued to doze until her cell phone began buzzing insistently in the kitchen. Grammy's eyes opened and she gazed questioningly up into my half-open eyes.

"Let it ring," I whispered, but I got off her.

Grammy sighed in relief as I let her shift a little and ease the discomfort in her hips, nodding and closing her eyes, acquiescing to me. Suddenly, Grandma's house phone began ringing.

"Oh, fer . . ." I grunted in exasperation.

Giving Grammy a kiss on the cheek, I rolled over and sat up, snatching up the handset.

"Hello!" I grunted.

"Petey," came Great-Ma's voice, "good morning, son, how are you feeling? Is Evie still asleep?"

"Hi, Great-Ma, I'm okay and Evie - I mean, Grammy's fine, she's awake. How's the party going?" I added, surly and a little disgruntled at her perceived intrusion into mine and Grammy's private time.

"What party?" Great-Ma came back, sounding surprised.

"Weren't y'all getting some wine to celebrate or something last night?" I continued contentiously.

"Oh! Well, n-no, that wasn't a party," she sounded hurt, "it was just that . . . w-well, a couple of my kids and some of the grandkids - your uncles and aunts - were in and . . . well, they brought dinner and I didn't have anything to offer them to eat it with and, and . . ."

"Jeez, I'm sorry, Great-Ma," I was suddenly contrite, "I didn't mean to sound angry. It's just that, Momma and Grandma are gone and y'all just seemed to be living it up, you know? I'm sorry. I really do know how much you must miss them, too."

"That's okay, baby," Great-Ma sniffled, "just finish packing and hurry home, okay? I've got your room all ready for you."

"Okay, Great-Ma, that sounds nice. We'll be there sometime this morning. We're about all done packing, I guess, just lazing around now."

"Oh?" Great-Ma seemed to pick up the difference in me quickly, "is Evie up, can I talk to her?"

"Oh, yes ma'am, she's right here, hang on."

"Thanks, honey, I love you."

"I love you, too, Great-Ma," I smiled into the phone and turned to Grammy.

Grammy frowned at first, then with a melodramatic resigned sigh, took the phone from my hand, running her hand down my arm caressingly as she sat up.

"Hello, Momma," she gave me a wink and an affectionate smile, "yes, Momma," she grinned at me impishly.

"Oh, I do, do I?" Grammy's laugh tinkled, "that's because you're treating me like an air-headed school-girl, that's why."

I gave her a silly grin and stuck my tongue out at her, crossing my eyes as I teased her wordlessly.

"As a matter of fact he is," she laughed, "yeah, he's looking all google-eyed as I talk to you, you've got ESP, don't you?"

I gave a loud, melodramatic gasp, pressing a hand to my heart, making Grammy snort as she tried to stifle her laughter.

"Oh," she giggled, "no ESP, you just know Petey, huh?" she pushed me playfully, "yeah, I guess he's pretty easy to read," she still chuckled, then turned a little more serious, "well, we're done now and, like Daddy said, we're just lazing around."

As Grammy winked at me I wondered if she'd meant to say "Daddy," and Great-Ma hadn't missed it either.

"I said what? Daddy? Oh, well, maybe Daddy's trying to say something from the grave these days, hm?"

Her face had gone from easy-going laughter to a more normal, slightly serious expression.

"Yeah, you can tell them to go ahead and come on by anytime they're ready. Uh-huh, I don't have a key, we need to go collect their personal effects . . . oh, you do? That's good, then their keys to this place should be in 'em somewhere. Yeah, you okay with going through them?"

I lay back and reached out, taking her small, free hand in my big mitt.

"Yeah, I've got her jewelry and the important paperwork set apart and I'll bring them with me, okay? Yes, Momma," Grammy rolled her eyes and grinned at me, "yes, Momma. Okay, Momma," she giggled then nodded, "okay, Momma. Yep. See you then. Okay. I love you, too, bye."

She handed me the phone and I set it back in the cradle.

"Since its close to nine, Momma said Nita and Rhonda are gonna fix a brunch for around eleven. There's still a crowd at the house, but she wants us there . . . you ready to go home?"

I shrugged, "sure why not," nodding without moving.

Grammy looked at me questioningly as I sat brooding.

"What's wrong, Daddy," she murmured softly.

"Daddy?" I turned and stared at her.

She shrugged and looked back at me, her large, Betty Davis eyes glistening, her lips pursed as if ready for a kiss before she quietly and softly answered.

"I told you, you're my Daddy. Aren't I your baby?"

I stared at her for a few seconds, letting the implications of her words sink in, then I took both her hands in mine and brought them to my lips.

"Yes-s-s," I kissed her fingertips, "you are my baby. You're my darling and my . . . my love."

Her lips trembled as she smiled at me, slow tears welling up in her limpid grey eyes and slowly sliding down her cheeks.

"Thank you," she quavered softly, leaning her face into my hands and kissing the backs of them.

With her head still tilted down, she pulled her hands free and, separating mine, brought them up to her face, having me cup her face with them. I caressed her face, sliding my hands back into her long, almost completely silvery hair and wiped her tears with my thumbs.

"She is a very beautiful woman," I thought, then in a fit of possessiveness, "my woman. MY woman."

I was sixteen and Grammy was sixty-two or sixty-three, but she was my woman. My woman to care for as a wife and, which I was oblivious of, at the time, the mother-to-be of my child.

While Grammy showered and got dressed, I fixed us a pot of coffee, then went into the other room to shower in the half-bath - I guess it was a three-quarter bath since it had a shower. Okay, it wasn't that great a joke. Grammy was still in the main bathroom when I came out so I toasted some bread and buttered it, figuring if we were going to have brunch, then toast would be enough. I dug through the pantry and pulled out some styrofoam plates, I didn't feel like washing dishes the last thing before leaving and, while digging them out, found Grandma's private stash of marmalade and peach preserves and set them out, too. I figured that the toast, butter, jam and coffee should be enough to hold us. As I finished laying out the table Grammy came in, following her nose to the coffee. She'd blow-dried her hair and was completely dressed and ready except for putting her hair up. Like always, she wore high stilettos and, as I watched, quickly put her hair up in a tight bun at the back of her neck.

"Coffee smells wonderful," she smiled, "you did a good job there, Daddy," she smiled impishly.

"Thank you," I grinned back, "everything's on the table . . ." I held her seat for her as she sat, "and ready."

"Thank you," she smiled up at me, catching my hand and sliding her fingers along it as I sat down.

"You're quite welcome," I smiled into her eyes, "I'll always try to treat my women with the courtesy and respect they deserve."

It sounds grandiose to my ears now, but I was only sixteen at the time and still very much a young man, if not an older boy. Grammy giggled and shook her head slowly in disbelief, but she didn't deny my words, and I meant every one of them, regardless of how pompous they sounded. Unconsciously, I was including Great-Ma as one of my women, but Grammy really understood every word I said and that I really meant it.

---

It was bedlam revisited at Great-Ma's house compared to the peace and quiet at the old apartment. She had a huge house and every square foot of it seemed to be filled with cousins, uncles, aunts, second and third cousins, great-uncles, great-aunts and who knows what other relations, with more coming and going. Some would leave and I wouldn't see them again and others would arrive, bearing trays of food and gallon jugs of tea and kool-aid along with bottles of wine and beer. Being an only child, I was pretty certain I didn't have any brothers or sisters there, but that was the only thing I was pretty sure off, but I wasn't really sure after Grammy's revelations the night before. I got reacquainted with cousins and relatives I hadn't seen in a very long time and met others I'd never seen nor even knew existed.

The relatives close to my age didn't interest me much anymore. Girls who I'd thought of trying to get in their pants only a few weeks ago, seemed a little childish and insipid, seeming shallow and very immature. However, I met a few aunts and grand-aunts that I wouldn't have minded bouncing the bed with for a few minutes. Their full breasts, rounded hips and long legs really turned me on. I got one of my girl cousins upset with me when she tried to flirt with me and I, instead, flirted with her mother. It was a long, tiring day. Losing track of Grammy, I tried in vain to find her. I finally gave up and went upstairs to my room, feeling a little lost without her. However, on opening the door to my room, I found her with Great-Ma, both women leaning back on my bed and talking. Their heads were close together and, as I threw the door open, jerked back, looking up at me in surprise.

"Hi, honey," Grammy smiled, "we were just talking about you."

"Oh?" I practically wiggled, happy to have found Grammy.

"Yes, well . . . I guess I need to get back out there," Great-Ma patted Grammy's hand and looked at her meaningfully, "kids grow up and sometimes grow apart, you know? Either way, whatever you do is fine with me."

Great-Ma pushed off to the side of the bed and sat staring at her daughter for a few minutes, then, "tsk, you know I love you, baby, just . . . remember what I told you, okay? Huh, sweetie?"

"Yes, Momma," Grammy nodded soberly as Great-Ma looked me up and down as if calculating my net worth.

"If you aren't always truthful with my baby girl, I'll whup your ass, hear me, boy?" she half-smiled to take the sting out of her words.

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded, suddenly realizing that I knew what they'd been talking about.

"Don't you ma'am me," Great-Ma slowly smiled and reached out for a hug.

I smiled back and hugged her tight.

"Yes, Great-Ma," I sighed, pressing my lips to the side of her neck impulsively, without thinking.

She giggled and crooked her neck as I stood speechless, suddenly realizing what I'd just done.

"He is a little devil, isn't he?" Great-Ma chuckled, pushing me back gently.

"He's a heckuva little devil," Grammy smiled, "but for now, he's my little devil, aren't you, baby."

"Yas'm," I teased, "I's yo' li'l debbil," and dropped down beside her.

Both women chuckled politely at my dumb-ass joke and Great-Ma continued out the door. Thinking of all those people in the house, I got up and locked the door. I didn't want anybody barging in on us while we snuggled or did something more . . . personal. Within a few moments we were tangled in each other's arms, tasting each other's mouths and flesh. We necked for a few minutes, but clothes were just too confining after all we'd been through, so I got up and stripped, coaxing Grammy out of her clothes as well. Throwing the covers back, I snuggled her to me. I was pretty well worn out and I guess Grammy was too, because we were soon dead to the world.

I awakened hours later. It was full dark out and the house was quiet. The first quiet stretch since we'd arrived. Grammy must have felt me awaken and rolled in my arms, turning to face me.

"This is the last time we sleep in this room," she fussed.

"Hm?" I responded intelligently.

"I've gotta go, but the bathroom is down the hall. However, I've got the mother-in-law suite with a bathroom .. ."

I lay there staring at her for a few seconds. I, too, had to go.

"Is anybody using it now?" I questioned.

"Uhm . . ." she paused looking at me as if the idea hadn't occurred to her, "uhm, I don't know. I don't think so. It's my place so, so there shouldn't be."

"Well, let's get dressed and check," I suggested, "if it's empty, we can move in now, don't you think?"

"Darn, you're not as dumb as you look," she chuckled throatily.

I grinned in response and we quickly dressed. I grabbed one of my bags and we headed down the hall to her suite of rooms. She tried the door and, finding it unlocked, tapped gently on it before opening it and peeked in. A few of the relatives were staying over and we didn't want to surprise any that might be using her bed. Noting that it seemed empty, we walked in. Setting my bag beside the door, we checked out the rest of the rooms. As Grammy hiked her dress up and dropped her panties in the bathroom, I went back and locked the door, stripping down to my shorts as I waited for my turn on the pot.

A few minutes later, I heard the commode flush and the water running then Grammy came out, barefoot and wearing a semitransparent nightgown. Through it, I could see that she had nothing on under it. With her silvery hair loosely cascading down her shoulders, Grammy looked sexy as hell. At my age, she was still a little taller than me, but ignoring that fact, I stepped up to her and hugged her pressing my nose and face into her soft, loose throat. She enfolded me in her long, slender arms, her upper arms jiggling slightly, the skin loose and showing her age. Still, she was so fucking soft, her flesh as exquisitely yielding and so-o exquisitely soft under my clutching hands. I loved gripping a handful of her and squeezing until she squealed in pain.

"Oo-ooh-h-wah-h-h, DADDY!!" she squeaked quietly, "you love making me cry, don't you?" she smiled painfully without trying to push me away, tears of pain squeezing out of her wide, round eyes.

"I love the way you feel, Grammy," I murmured, "so soft, so . . . pliable. Just as soft as a baby."

"Um-m-m," she chuckled, "when you grab me like that, it feels so deliciously painful, you know? I love the strength and power in your hands."

"Well," I pulled her head down to mine and kissed her gently, "I gotta go. Meet you in bed."

She giggled as I slapped her saggy rump, her butt jiggling as I hurried into the bathroom.