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Newsletter / insta-love of a hotwife’s granddaughter (it will make sense)

Season’s grindings… I mean greetings.

A seasonal thought as we go into fall. I thought I would do an insta-love story this time.

Photo by Mahdi Bafande on Unsplash

Thanks for all your support this year. It’s been a blast. One thing I have meant to do is a MM story. With a bi and a straight guy, or maybe two straight guys going bi. My husband was navy and I constantly tease him about it. So I will get to that.

I have been on vacation

I have been out riding my bike and bikepacking. My ass is sore and not in the preferred way, but now I am back. In my absence, Isla Chiu, Loelei Sands, and Donal Gerigh have been filling in regularly. I wrote a couple, but connectivity was spotty. Time to get back to work…

Why we write sex and not romance

Alas, clean stuff does not get read as much. And of course, we get hot when people read, but we also get paid by views. Still, at some point we all pine for stories that are more than sex. Do we? Yes, yes we do. I plan to write plenty of sex; I mean, that’s what I do. But this year I’m doing some clean-ish stuff.

So if you see a story that’s tagged “” for semi dirty, and “” for clean then you know that’s what it is. I hope you like them and continue to support my writing journey, even if it’s just “Cleanish: A pulsing manhood as she swallows” or “Drama: She got up and smiled as she wiped her mouth”, rather than “his cock shot ropes of cum down my throat.” Hey, I am still an adult writer (but I am going to do some teen cozy stuff.)

And now, the sexy story (based on the picture)

When I was young, my grandmother tried to teach me to knit. During lockdown, I called her in the home she was at, and we took it up again. Even though she had been sick for a while now, she made the time. It was hard to see her so frail and slipping away. But I had been a shit granddaughter, and this last year Skyping was really great. I knitted a few things, but one day…

“So, you ready to try your hand at a nice fuck stocking?”
“A what?” I was shocked.
“That’s what we called them back in home economics. It’s a tube, but with all the patterns and techniques. We were only supposed to do a small sample, but a few of us, senior year, made a dress and then…”
“Grandma! Christ,” I was blushing.
“Well? Want to,” she said with a salacious grin. It made me smile.
“OK, yeah. Let’s do it. Let’s make a fuck stocking.”

I worked on the thing for three weeks, pulling the yarn apart ten dozen times before I got the neck the right size. I was ready to scream. But she was patient and I think she enjoyed saying “You have to do it again.” Followed by my “fuck!”

Finally, it was done. I held it up and pressed it against my body. It was kind of cool. High fashion in my grandmother’s day, the day of making your own clothes. She was on Skype with me that last time.

“Well, there is absolutely no wearing a bra with this, that’s for sure. But I can see wearing it with some jeans and some uggs.”
“Jeans?” she coughed with outrage. “You’re not getting any action that way.”
“That how you seduced Grandpa?”
“Oh fuck, I didn’t meet him until new years, and then we ‘courted’ the beta,” she said and I laughed.
“He wasn’t your first? I was always told…”
“Shit, he wasn’t the thirty-first. Can I ask you a question?” she said.
“Sure.”
“Are you — she leaned in whispering, — queer at all?”
I blushed. This was grams after all, but I had come to know her more as a woman. “No, I’m not a lesbian. But… I might have played around a little in college.”
“What was it like? I always wondered,” she said and just then the nurse came by to take her to her room. “Just a goddamn moment, I need to say goodbye,” she fumed.

“Listen, I hate to say it this way. There was this fellow, god I loved the way he made love. I should have married him. But he has a grandson. I saw him at the clinic. He’s a doctor, perfect for you… Wear the fuck sock, don’t fuck it up like I did. If he’s half the man his father was, you will choke on it. And believe me, you will want to,” she said and went into a coughing fit.
“Ok, Mazie, time to go to bed and get some rest.”
“Bye Grandma,” I said and waved.
“Bye. You take care,” she said, and the call was over. It was the last time I saw her.

The funeral was in a week. There were so many people, thousands, it seemed. My aunts and uncles, of course, but all of her “kids”, their kids, and their kids. Grams had been a teacher for fifty years. They all came. It was overwhelming. They did everything for us.

“Ready?” my mom asked as we were about to go.
“Yeah, just, trying to decide…”
“Wear it, just like she wanted.”
“Do you know this guy she’s talking about?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a hunk. Like his dad.”
“You knew his dad?”
“Yeah, we played together as kids, while mom and his dad spent quality time.”
“What?”
“Mom had an affair. Your uncle Joey is his. She loved him so much, she could never give him up.”
“I think dad knew. I think, he accepted it, that her heart went both ways.”
“Wow. I would never have guessed.”
“That’s how it works. The heart wants what it wants. Does it make you a bad person? Or just human. If my dad did know, I think I respect him more for that, letting her be happy, than anything. So, wear the dress, I mean the fuck stocking, Like she wanted.”

I put the dress on. I felt like such a slut. I loved it. It was pretty cozy as well. I slipped on the Uggs and my transformation into a wanton woman was complete. Just a little makeup. There. I loved it. Everyone stared at me as I came down and got in the car.

The service was nice. Afterward I took a walk in the graveyard and spotted a guy putting a flower on a grave. He had pulled it out of a larger arrangement. He also had an urn with him. I didn’t want to intrude, so I walked around. Fuck, he was handsome. Why do I always meet guys when I can’t approach them? Then I thought, what would Mazie do. I was dressed in her skin now, so I walked to him.

“Hi,” I said. “Did you come to my grandmother’s service? I thought I saw you…” trying to find a plausible way to start the conversation.
He smiled, fuck he was a god, standing a foot taller than me.
“Yeah, I was just going over there. I have these for her.”
“But the service is over.”
“Yeah, well, I waited. Out of respect. I don’t want to… Make it weird. She was my grandmother, too, but you know how it is, kids showing up at funerals that no one knows.”
“Well, fuck!” I said. He laughed.
“My dad is her son. She left him with my grandfather.” He pointed at the grave with a single rose. Mazie, you slut, I thought. “But I was already three when my mom married my dad. Nice dress. She said you have a pretty shape.”

You could have knocked me over with a stick. “Do I?”
“I think so,” he said. I swallowed hard. It’s been a while since I had been out.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” I said.
“What?”
“Don’t play with me,” I said. “I’m too horny right now. Just walk away. OK.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to blurt that out,” he said.
“You married? You’re married right?”
“Would that matter to you?” he asked.
“No, honestly. It wouldn’t.”

He put the urn on top of the gravestone, took my hand and pulled me into a mausoleum, pushed me against the wall and kissed my shoulder. I wished I had worn my stilettoes to raise my ass to a more fuckable level. He was pulling up my dress and rubbing my ass with his cold palm.

“Fuck me,” I said. He pulled out his wallet. “Just fuck me.”
“You on something?” he asked.
“No, just fuck me.”

His hands wrapped around me and felt my tits. One drifted to my clit as he kissed the back of my neck. God, this was so wrong in all the right ways. I was just lost in his touch. I don’t know when he got his cock out, but suddenly he was inside me. I was so wet, my pussy offered no resistance to his invasion. Fuck, he was as huge as my grandmother supposed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he said as he fucked me. I lifted one leg to give him a better angle. Letting all of him inside. I imagined my grandmother, in her fuck sock, doing the same for his grandfather, her first fuck, her first cock. Suddenly, it felt like my first cock. He was so deep, a feeling trembled inside me I hadn’t felt before. Was I? I Never?

“Fuck, I’m coming, I’m going to come,” I said, both hands on the wall, this man fucking me. “Ahhhh, Yes, yes…. Shit, I’m… Ohhhhhhh.” My juices flowed down my legs, down his cock. He just kept fucking me. I could barely stand it as an unexpected second wave hit me and collapsed against the wall. His thrusts were heaven and then…. He came. I guess I should have expected it, but guys I know pull out. But he didn’t and I felt his cock explode inside me. The first man to ever come in my pussy, without a hefty bag that is.

I looked back at him, and we finally kissed on the lips for the first time. His cock fell out, and I turned and held him as we made out for the first time.

“You’re so sexy,” he said.
“You like me in my fuck dress?”
“I do,” he said. We kissed again, and I sucked his cock clean before we went to my grandmother’s grave with the flowers, holding hands.

“Oh, the urn. We forgot it. Why do you have it?”
“That, it’s where it belongs,” he said.
“Your grandmother?”
“Yeah. It’s Mazie. He never married. Your mother gave it to me when I came.”
“Then who is over here?”
“That’s why she was buried a week after the viewing, the first service.”
“Oh, I missed that one.”
“I know,” he said, and kissed my forehead. I was in love. I was so falling hard for this guy. I got the feeling he felt the same way. I was going crazy. We got to Mazie’s grave.

“You need to let go of my hand,” he said.
“No, I won’t. Not until I hear those two words again.”
“Two words?”
“I do.”

If you liked this story, check out my other sexy stories on Bella Books on medium or for stranger stories, Extraordinary Worlds, and follow me for updates. And check out my other stories on Amazon and Smashwords.

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