Soon, night fell. At the same time as the previous night, Chris silently left his room and stood outside Grandma Emma's door. He slowly pushed it open just enough to create a gap. The view inside did not disappoint him.
There was Grandma Emma—towering breasts, shaved pussy, legs spread wide, a butt plug in her ass. She put her finger in her mouth, wet it, then slid it into her pussy. After a moment, she pulled it out, licked her own juices off her finger, rubbed her breasts, pinched her nipples, then turned into doggy style and began slowly moving the butt plug in and out.
This scene was insanely hot—the best thing Chris had ever witnessed, far better than any porn. He took out his cock and started masturbating furiously while watching.
This time, he was smarter. He didn't make a sound and had brought tissue with him to wipe up the cum from the floor.
From this display, Chris knew his grandma was starving for real action. And he himself desperately wanted sex—he couldn't bear just watching anymore.
Soon, Chris returned to his room.
What he didn't know was that, after he left, Grandma Emma stepped out of her room, looked at the wiped marks on the floor, and gave a mischievous smile.
The prey had finally fallen into her trap.
Chris slipped back into his room, heart still pounding from the night's forbidden spectacle. He locked the door with a soft click, as if that could keep the images from following him inside. Dropping onto his bed, he pulled out his phone and opened his usual private playlist—videos of the most popular actresses and models, the kind that had always worked before.
But tonight, nothing felt the same.
Every time a woman appeared on screen—arching her back, moaning, stripping slowly—his mind automatically replaced her face with Emma's. His grandmother's towering, gravity-defying breasts looked fuller, more perfect. Her shaved pussy glistened wetter, more inviting. Her husky voice calling his name in the dark sounded a thousand times more intoxicating than any pornstar's scripted cries. The actresses suddenly seemed pale, ordinary, inadequate.
He stroked himself faster, eyes squeezed shut, imagining Emma on all fours, butt plug glinting, fingers buried deep while she whispered, "Come take what's yours, baby boy…" He came hard, biting his lip to stay quiet, ropes of cum spilling over his hand as the fantasy grandmother in his head smiled wickedly at him.
Exhausted, guilty, and strangely satisfied, Chris cleaned up, turned off the phone, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, after the usual tense family breakfast where he barely dared look at Emma, Chris hurried upstairs, hoping to escape to the safety of his room. He was halfway down the hallway when her voice floated after him—warm, smooth, and dangerously playful.
"Chris~"
His heart slammed against his ribs. He froze, then slowly turned, eyes glued to the floor.
"Hello, Grandma," he mumbled, voice cracking slightly.
Emma approached with slow, deliberate steps, her silk blouse and flowing skirt whispering against her skin. She placed one manicured hand on his shoulder. The simple touch made every muscle in Chris's body tighten.
"You're avoiding me these past two days, aren't you?" she murmured, voice low and teasing. Before he could answer, she pulled him into a full embrace.
Her massive, braless breasts crushed softly against his chest. Through the thin silk, Chris could feel the hard peaks of her nipples pressing insistently into him. Her other hand slid down to rest casually—far too casually—on his ass, fingers giving a gentle squeeze.
Chris's breath hitched. His cock, already half-aware of her presence, surged to full hardness in seconds, tenting his pants and pressing unmistakably against her lower belly.
Emma let out a soft, knowing chuckle against his ear.
"I know you've been nervous around me lately," she whispered. "Come on, give Grandma a proper hug and tell me what's wrong."
Then—without warning—her hand slipped between them and cupped the thick bulge in his pants.
Chris's eyes flew wide.
"Grandma… what are you doing?!" he stammered, voice cracking as he frantically glanced up and down the empty hallway.
She gave him one slow, deliberate stroke through the fabric, enough to make his knees buckle, before releasing him with an innocent little laugh.
"Oh, relax, sweetheart," she said breezily, patting his cheek. "Why so jumpy? You're my grandson. I've seen you naked plenty of times when you were little—and played with that little thing too. You're acting like you're about to do something naughty."
"N-no, Grandma, I just… I don't want anyone to see how embarrassed I am," he managed, face burning crimson.
Emma tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Chris, you're a healthy young man. Tell me honestly—what were you thinking about that got you so hard? Your childhood sweetheart?"
"No! I wasn't thinking anything bad, it just… happened!"
"Really?" She leaned in closer, voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Or were you thinking about me?"
Before he could deny it, she pressed her palm firmly against his erection again—this time lingering long enough for the pleasure to flash across his face in a helpless, involuntary moan.
She released him quickly, stepping back with a satisfied smile.
"I know how it is with teenagers—all that extra energy and raging hormones," she said lightly, as if discussing the weather. "Don't worry about it, darling. Talk to me freely. Don't be shy all the time—girls don't like shy boys."
She gave his shoulder one last affectionate pat, turned, and sauntered back toward her room, hips swaying just enough to make sure he watched every step.
Chris stood there, breathing hard, cock throbbing painfully against his zipper, mind reeling.
She knew.
And worse—she was enjoying every second of his torment.
Chris stood frozen in the hallway long after Emma had disappeared into her room, the echo of her footsteps fading like a taunting whisper. His heart hammered against his ribs, and his cock—still painfully hard—throbbed with every heartbeat. The warmth of her breasts against his chest, the unmistakable press of her bare nipples through silk, the casual yet deliberate way her hand had cupped and stroked him through his pants… it replayed in his mind.
For the first time, the fog of lust cleared just enough for a cold thread of realization to cut through.
This isn't normal.
Grandmothers didn't hug their grandsons like that. They didn't wrap their fingers around a hard cock—even through pants—and stroke it with that slow, knowing pressure. They didn't whisper teasing questions about whether you were hard because of them.
Even the most innocent person on earth would have felt the shift. This wasn't affection. This was hunger.
And the hunger was directed at him.
Chris's stomach twisted with a sick cocktail of shame, fear, and something far darker—excitement. His mind raced in frantic circles.
She knows I've been watching her.
The thought should have repulsed him. It did repulse him, in a distant, moral corner of his brain that still remembered family dinners, childhood hugs, and the unbreakable rules of blood. Grandma Emma was supposed to be safety, wisdom, the matriarch who baked cookies and scolded him for bad grades.
But the rest of him—the 18-year-old, hormone-drenched, perpetually horny part—screamed something else entirely.
She was insanely hot.
Even at 62, she had the body of a fantasy: massive, gravity-defying tits, a round ass that begged to be grabbed, smooth shaved skin, and that wicked, experienced smile that promised she knew exactly how to ruin a man. She wasn't some fumbling high-school girl or distant pornstar on a screen. She was real, warm, willing—and right here, under the same roof.
All he had to do was say yes.
One word. One touch back. One step across the line.
And he could have her. Taste her.
the thought of sliding between those thick thighs, of hearing her moan his name for real instead of through a cracked door, of finally losing his virginity to someone who knew exactly what she was doing… that thought burned hotter.
Chris pressed his forehead against the cool wall, breathing hard.
He was trapped in the worst kind of dilemma.
.