[JoeWhite1]

I was hardly able to sleep because my mind kept returning to what had just happened. I had enjoyed how my grandad had made me cum and I wanted more, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it happen. This was the second time he had made me cum and both times I had been passive. I had not objected or tried to stop him, but I had not actively responded as he managed to make me aroused.

The first time, I had seen him stroke his cock, so I knew that what he was doing to me was also arousing for him. Earlier I had seen him sniff my knickers as he picked them up from the floor, and it was very obvious that my grandad was attracted to me sexually. Now I had to figure out some way that I could try to encourage him to continue and to see how I could return the favour to him.

The next morning, I was feeling better and I decided that I had to keep the sexual momentum going because I didn’t want to wait another year before a new unplanned opportunity to explore our sexual attraction occurred.

However, I also knew that I couldn’t simply tell my grandad that I loved the way that he had made me feel and that I wanted more. I had to be more subtle than that, yet I had to let him know that that was what I wanted.

So, I selected a long T-shirt that would cover me while emphasizing that I wasn’t wearing a bra, and also giving him the chance to see my bare bum whenever I bent over – and I intended to bend a lot.

I slipped on the T-shirt and made my way downstairs to the kitchen where I knew my grandad would be sitting at the table, drinking a cup of Earl Grey tea and reading the news on his mobile. This was his normal morning routine, and had been ever since he retired. When my granny was alive, they would both sit and discuss the news that they read from different newspapers. She was a die-hard Guardian reader, while he was an avid reader of the Sun. I was surprised the first time I was old enough to realise how diametrically opposed politically those two newspapers were, and also how their approaches to the news were so different. However, it did not seem to bother either of them that the news they read was reported in such different styles.

Actually, when I asked my granny about it one summer when I was 15 and stayed with them for a month, she confided in me that my grandad claimed that he liked his news to be reported in a simple fashion, but that she knew he actually enjoyed looking at the photo of the topless models who were featured on page 3 every day.

Although she did not elaborate on what that meant, I was old enough to understand that my grandad was still interested in sex although he was approaching retirement age. Sadly, my granny died the next year when I was 16, so until I started university and began to live with my grandad, I had forgotten about his favourite news outlet. However, now I had tangible evidence that he was indeed interested in sex.

“Good morning grandad,” I said as I entered the kitchen and headed to the kettle to make myself some tea.

“Morning Liz, How are you feeling this morning?” he replied casually and without looking up from his mobile, as if nothing had happened in my bedroom the night before.

“I’m feeling much better, thanks” I replied. “I slept really well last night.”

Instead of referring to what had happened, he continued, “Oh, before I forget, I washed your clothes and hung them out to dry on the washing line in the garden. It’s such a lovely day that they will dry soon. I’ll bring them in and put them away when they’re dry.”

When he told me this, I glanced out of the kitchen window which looked out on the secluded back garden where only a few months before he had fingered me to orgasm.

I could see my jeans, T-shirt, bra and socks along with a few shirts and underwear belonging to my grandad hanging from the washing line and being moved gently in the breeze. However, what I could not see was any sign of the knickers I had seen him sniff as he picked up my dirty clothes from the bedroom floor the night before.

I was about to ask him what he had done with my knickers, when it suddenly dawned on me why he had said that he would bring in the clothes when they were dry. He did not want me to see that he had not washed my knickers and that he had probably kept them in his bedroom.

That thought made me more sure that I had to try to encourage him to continue to be more open and daring with his exploration of my body. And also, I wanted to see more of his cock that I had glimpsed him wanking as he fingered me to orgasm in the garden.

I suddenly realized that I was no longer the innocent girl who had only once kissed a boy when I was 16. Now, I was on the verge of exploring a different side of me that I had barely acknowledged existed, and this realization made me feel scared but also excited. I wanted more to happen, but I was not sure what ‘more’ meant or how I would feel if things became more intense.

I also realized that if I did not encourage him, it might be months before another opportunity like the first time and the night before could arise. So, I took a deep breath and began planning what I could do as I continued to make myself a cup of tea.

I did not actually manage to think of any convincing way to show my grandad that I was ready and interested to take things further, but of course fate intervened. At least, that’s what I told myself later.

What happened was that after making my cup of tea, I sat down on the right beside grandad who was still reading his newspaper. I asked him to pass me the milk which was on his left. Without looking up, he reached over with his left hand and passing the milk across his body meant to hand it to me. However, instead of setting the milk down on the table, he attempted to pour some into my tea.

As he was still focused on the newspaper, naturally his aim was off and instead of pouring some milk into my cup of tea, he poured it on my T-shirt.

The sudden shock of cold milk soaking into my T-shirt startled me and caused me to jump in surprise. As I did, my left hand hit the cup of hot tea and knocked it over. Most of the tea made a puddle on the table, but enough splashed on my grandad’s boxer shorts right in the crotch area.

Both grandad and I jumped up almost simultaneously and looked around hurriedly for something to mop up the spilt tea. I grabbed a cloth used for drying dishes while grandad reached for a box of tissues. Before I could do anything, he had already started to mop up the tea from the table top. When he had finished, he threw the wad of sodden tissues into the rubbish bin and then turned to me as I stood facing him.

The milk had soaked into my T-shirt from the neck down to my chest. I could feel the wet patch on my 34 B boobs and the thought that grandad could see them made my nipples harden. And grandad was standing in front of me looking intently at how my nipples tried to poke through the wet fabric.

I blushed and dropped my gaze in embarrassment even though I was secretly delighted that grandad was openly admiring my body. I knew that he was admiring it because I was able to see how his cock had made a tent in his boxers just where the tea had spilt.

On an impulse, I took the cloth for drying dishes that I still had in my hand and moved it towards that wet area of grandad’s boxers.

“I think we need to dry you off there,” I whispered, uncertain how he would react.

Grandad did not move away or try to stop me as my hands started to rub the towel over the area that the tea had spilt on. Of course, that was also the area where his cock had reacted to his staring at my boobs.

As I rubbed, I could feel that his cock had grown even harder with the stimulation I was providing. I had never done anything like this in my life before, but it seemed so natural to feel the warmth and hardness of his erect cock.

“Your boxers and my T-shirt are wet. Why don’t we take them off and we can wash them before the stains of tea and milk are too difficult to get out,” I suddenly suggested.

Before grandad could reply or protest, I had hooked my thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and swiftly jerked them down around his knees. He blinked in surprise, but then reached down to let them fall to his ankles and stepped out of them revealing his erect cock sticking straight out from his greying pubic hair.

As he did this, I crossed my arms and tugging the hem of my T-Shirt, I quickly pulled it over my head and tossed it on the chair beside me. Now we were both naked and facing each other.

Grandad’s cock was even harder than before as he was within touching distance of my boobs. I couldn’t resist reaching down and wrapping my fingers around his cock. I later learned that he was average size, but to me at that moment, his erect cock looked huge. It felt warm to the touch, and strangely soft as well as hard.

I started to stroke gently up and down the shaft, but then grandad placed his hand on mine and slowly pulled back his foreskin, and then gently showed me how to slide the foreskin up and down over his bulbous cockhead. After he was satisfied that I knew how to make him feel good, his right hand reached out to cup my left breast. He caressed it slowly and rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Meanwhile his left hand had reached down to where I could feel myself becoming wetter by the minute, searching for my aching clit.

We stood facing each other, slowly caressing each other and not daring to look into the other person’s eyes.

As I became more confident with how hard I could stroke his cock, my grandad’s breath began to come in ragged gasps and his face reddened. His fingers felt so good on my clit, but I knew that I would not be able to keep stroking his stiff cock if he made me cum, so I gently moved his hand to cup my other tit.

The stimulation of feeling my firm young breasts and the action of my hand stroking his cock finally drove my grandad over the edge. He let out a series of grunts as he began to shoot streams of white cum which landed on my belly and dribbled down towards my legs.

Shaking with excitement at what I had just done, I smiled at my grandad and taking some tissues from the box on the table, I began to wipe myself clean. As I did so, my grandad released his hold on my breasts and put his hands behind my neck.

Then, pulling my face towards his, he kissed me on the mouth. Finally, he stooped and picked up his boxer shorts from the floor, and scooped up my T-shirt from the chair where I had tossed it.

Without a word, he turned around and walked towards the kitchen where the washing machine was.

Meanwhile, I stood watching his body walk away from me, while wondering what the consequences of what had just happened would be.