Gramping

I would like to thank the reader who inspired me to write again after a long period of "writer's block"; this story is dedicated to her and I hope that she, as well as many others, enjoy it.

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Shannon turned her head and mumbled "Come in", in response to the knock on her bedroom door. For the last ten years she had spent a couple of weeks at her grandparent's cottage every Summer; this was the first year since her Grammy had passed that she had visited Grandpa John.

She sat up in bed as the door opened, adjusting her pillow and smiled towards her Grandpa as he carried her breakfast into the room.

"Thanks Gramps," she said, as he placed the breakfast tray across her lap, "I could have come down for breakfast rather than have you bring it up for me."

"You have had breakfast brought to you in bed by your Grandma every day that you've stayed here. I'm not going to stop with traditions like that -- your Grandma will be watching over me and muttering if I don't look after you just the same as she always did."

Eyeing the contents of her plate, she smiled, "Just as Grammy would have done it Gramps, she would be proud of you!"

John smiled at the young woman sitting in the bed; no longer the little girl who had first visited and stayed all those years ago, she was now a fully grown woman with the same shapely figure that his late wife had when they started courting back in the seventies. He found himself staring at the shapely breasts beneath the modest nightie that covered them and swiftly averted his eyes, coughing as he did so in an attempt to avoid any discussion regarding what he had been staring at. He turned his back and made his way out of the door.

"Come down for some more coffee when you want it -- I'm just gonna go and refill the pot," he said as he exited.

As she watched him depart, Shannon thought about her Grandpa -- she had realised what he had been focusing on and was not in the least perturbed by it. He had always been a large part of her life; with her dad so engrossed in his work and trying to make his fortune, Grandpa John had always been the man in her life -- the one who spent time with her, comforted her when she needed it -- he had been her rock since she could remember. Sure, her mum -- and her Grammy -- had always been loving and caring; her Grammy had taught her how to bake, how to sow and frequently taken her shopping and spoilt her rotten, but Grandpa John had always been number one in her heart.

She knew from very early on that she preferred the company of a man -- she still reminisced about her younger years, when her Grandpa used to take her on bear hunts in the woods. Little did she know back then that there were no bears within hundreds of miles of the cottage where Grandpa lived; she had felt such a thrill about her Grandpa taking her with him, teaching her how to make her way quietly through the woods, being aware of animals and birds -- trying not to startle them, looking for tracks of the fauna. Some of her favourite moments, however, had been on the trips back to the cottage; all stealth disappeared as her grandpa hid behind trees and jumped out on her, tickling her and wrestling her to the ground.

Those days stopped suddenly when she was in her early teens; one day her Grandpa had wrestled her to the ground and stopped suddenly as his hand grazed across her chest. He refused to say why, only stating that she was too old for such games now but a couple of days later Grammy had taken her aside and explained that she was no longer a young girl but a young woman and that her Grandpa had to treat her as such.

Shannon continued to muse on those days long ago when life seemed simpler and she could enjoy the company of her Grandpa unreservedly. She took another bite of the bacon in front of her as she recalled the days after her Grandpa had decided she was too old for bear hunts -- he used to take her to the lake to fish for bass. She laughed to herself as she remembered that she never really enjoyed the fishing -- it was the company of her grandpa that she enjoyed, listening to his stories about when her mum was young and the tales of her grandma when she was a teenager and the strategies she used to get his attention when they were at college together. She did, she remembered, used to enjoy it when he tried to teach her how to fish. She recalled with a fond smile how she felt with his arm around her as he tried to teach her how to cast her line, the memory of the tingle that passed through her body as his strong arm held her waist, involuntarily squeezing it as he cast the line with her.

She glanced down at her plate and realised that she had finished; picking up her coffee cup she took a sip and spat the cold liquid back into the cup. She swiftly moved the tray aside and scrambled out of bed, wrapping her silk dressing gown around her before lifting the tray and carrying it downstairs. Upon entering the kitchen, she spotted him exactly where she knew he would be -- sitting in his chair in the corner of the room, whittling away at a piece of wood.

"Still making that chess set grandpa?" she enquired, already knowing the answer.

"You betcha," came the response, as he glanced at her; his eyes roving over her body in the tight-fitting dressing gown. He immediately chastised himself for the thoughts that had briefly passed through his mind upon seeing the young lithe body of his sweet granddaughter.

His eyes followed her as she glided across the floor, her movements nimble like a cat's, making her way to the sink. She unloaded her plate and poured the cold coffee down the sink before placing the tray on the shelf where it lived when not in use. She took her cup to the coffee pot and poured herself a fresh cup, turning her head suddenly she caught her grandpa staring in the region of her arse, "Can I get you a fresh cup, Grandpa?" she asked, as she watched his face turn a bright red.

"Sure, honey -- that would be nice," came his ready response, as he looked into her eyes. He noticed what he thought was a smirk on her lips as she turned away and grabbed the coffee pot, carrying it to where he sat and replenishing his mug. He avoided the temptation to try and sneak a peek down the v of her nightie as she bent slightly to pour the coffee although it seemed to him that she took longer than necessary to do so, almost as if she were deliberately tempting him to look at her body. When she finally finished, she returned the coffee pot to its stand and opened the fridge, taking out the milk.

"Tell me when, Grandpa," she instructed as she slowly dribbled the milk into his mug. This time he could not help himself, the dressing gown seemed that bit looser, leaving her cleavage even more on show. He looked at the sweet, young breasts that were snuggled inside the nighty, licking his lips briefly as he imagined how they would feel in his rough hands. It was only when he realised that Shannon had stopped pouring that he snapped back to the real world.

"I assumed that was about right Gramps," whispered Shannon, as she straightened up, "You seemed miles away -- I hope it was somewhere nice."

He smiled at her as he thanked her, stating that he was remembering their bear hunts all those years ago.

Shannon smiled at him warmly as she went to pour some milk into her cup, "Some of my favourite ever memories are from those days -- I still miss our little trips into the woods together, hunting for bears."

John's gruff laugh filled the room, causing Shannon to burst into a fit of laughter. "I still can't believe that you used to make sounds like that and convince me that it was the sound of a nearby bear -- I was so naïve!" she exclaimed.

"Hell, child, the first time you were only nine -- you used to believe anything I told you back then. The fun I had convincing you that the woods were inundated with bears!"

Shannon took a sip from her cup and placed it back down on the table, walking to her grandpa, she kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "You made my childhood so amazing grandpa -- you and Grammy showed me love that made me feel so special -- my happiest memories are all in this cottage."

"And a lot of my happiest memories revolve around the weeks you spent here with us honey. Your Grammy and I used to count down the days until you were due to visit." He smiled back at her and reached out to stroke her arm, gently running his hand down the sleeve of her dressing gown. "How about we go fly-fishing today -- for old times' sake?"

Shannon smiled at her Grandpa. "I thought you'd worked out by now that fishing was never really my thing, Gramps." She looked down into the disappointed eyes of the man who she felt she loved more than any other in the world. "I know!" she declared, "How about we go on that camping trip that you promised but never materialised? That favourite spot of yours in the hills! It's about time I got to see it!"

"But I've only got that small two-man tent I had when you were a kid, Shannon. It wouldn't be appropriate for you and I to camp together in that."

"What a load of baloney grandpa! You've seen me in a bikini -- not much different to undies. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were too old to go camping and just using the tent as an excuse."

"Too old! Too old young lady -- I'll give you too old." He got out of his chair to grab Shannon but she had read the signals in his eyes -- she had run from the kitchen and through the porch door, down the steps and into the meadow. She stopped, expecting her grandpa to be on the veranda and as she was about to turn around something hit her in the side forcing her to the ground. She looked amazed as her grandpa straddled her as she lay on her back, her dressing gown belt having loosened during her attempted escape. She felt a warm feeling between her thighs as her grandpa's manly body sat astride her, his thighs pressing against hers. She glanced at the front of his trousers and thought she could make out the bulge of his manhood.

When he started to tickle her, she shrieked, pulling her knees up in an automatic reflex. She felt her nighty slide up her legs and the cool country air rush up between her thighs, bringing another welcome sensation between her legs. Her knees knocked into Grandpa's back and with him slightly off balance, he fell forward onto her. His hands narrowly missed her breasts but his face fell to hers; she grabbed it and kissed him on the lips very tenderly, as her eyes searched his for a response. His instant reaction was one of shock but his mouth responded hungrily, kissing his granddaughter with the same passion he had kissed his late Edith when they had first been courting. Shannon placed a hand behind his head and pulled him onto her mouth, kissing him with more fervour as she enjoyed the feeling of this man, this man she had always loved, making out with her in the grass.

Suddenly, John pulled away. The look on his face was a mixture of shock, horror and guilt. He wrestled himself free of her grip and clambered off of her, rushing back into the cottage. Slowly, Shannon got to her feet. She stood in the meadow for a few minutes uncertain; thoughts of quickly getting dressed and grabbing her car keys crossed her mind but then again, so did thoughts of following her grandpa and cornering him, forcing herself upon him and making him realise that he was the man she wanted at this moment in time.

She ambled slowly towards the steps, pausing at the foot of them, peeking inside the open door for any sign of her grandpa. After a few moments' hesitation, she made her way silently up the steps -- cautiously making her way into the kitchen, she looked around; her grandpa was nowhere to be seen. She continued on her way, checking each room before she started up the stairs. At the top of the stairs she stopped as she heard a muffled sob; straining her ears she decided that it had come from her grandpa's bedroom. She crept along the landing and opened the door to his room, spying him immediately sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

"Grandpa?" she whispered, "Grandpa -- please -- I'm sorry -- please forgive me."

John raised his head from his hands. "It's not your fault baby, the blame lies with me -- I am so sorry princess -- can you ever forgive me?"

"Gramps," responded Shannon, "You have nothing to be sorry for. When a man and a woman are attracted to each other, no-one is to blame -- it is kismet. I have always loved you grandpa -- it's just that lately my feelings might have changed."

She walked across to the bed and sat at her grandpa's side, resting her hand on his thigh she whispered "Grandpa -- nothing that happened was against my will -- I love you gramps -- you are the man that I love most in this world."

"But it's wrong baby -- it's illegal and anyway, I'm far too old for you."

Shannon rested her head on her Gramps shoulder, thinking about what to say. Eventually she whispered, "If it feels as good as it did Gramps, how can it be wrong? I know society frowns on such matters but when did they decide it was wrong?" Her voice becoming more animated, "I bet, before we as a species, became so-called 'civilized', dads and daughters were at it all the time -- brothers, sisters -- hell, half the population is probably the result of incest somewhere down the line."

John was only half listening to his granddaughter; his mind distracted by her hand gently stroking his thigh -- aware of the effect this was having inside his trousers. He reached down and picked her hand up, holding it to his lips, he kissed the back of it tenderly.

"You are the most precious thing on this planet to me, Shannon," he murmured, "I want better for you. I love you deeply but we can't.....we mustn't do anything like that again."

He rose up from the bed and held his hands out to her. Shannon gazed up into the face of her Grandpa, this man she loved so deeply. Then she took his hands and let him help her up from the bed.

"Now," he said, "why don't you go have a shower and get dressed, then we can decide what we are going to do."

Her eyes followed him as he made his way to the top of the stairs. As he turned to look back at her, he smiled, then disappeared from sight as he descended on his way to the kitchen. Shannon went to her bedroom and discarded her dressing gown and nighty, picked up a towel and made her way to the bathroom.

As soon as John heard his boiler start up, indicating that Shannon was using the shower, he crept back upstairs. He knocked lightly on her bedroom door and, when there was no response, he opened it quietly, peeking in, before, satisfied that the room was empty, he made his way inside. He reached for the discarded nighty and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply; the smell of his granddaughter's young body ingrained in the soft material. With his other hand, he reached inside his jeans and began to stroke his hard cock, feeling the pre-cum leaking from his pee-hole. John swiftly returned to his bedroom and removed his trousers and boxers, laying on his bed, he wrapped the nighty around his erection and began to stroke. His eyes closed, remembering the moment in the meadow, the feel of Shannon's lips on his, her young body pinned beneath his on the grass -- then he thought about her sweet, firm breasts -- his hand moving more rapidly, he groaned as his balls emptied a load of cum into Shannon's nighty.

Immediately a feeling of guilt swept over him. He wiped his cock on a dry section of the nighty, quickly dressed and gathered up some of his clothes from the wash-basket, rushing downstairs and placing the lot in the washing-machine with the nighty.

Once the wash-load was on, John sat at the kitchen table and turned to the crossword in the paper. It was here that Shannon found him, half-an-hour later as she swept into the room all fresh and glowing from her hot shower. John looked up at her as she approached in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a simple summer blouse; her hair in a ponytail, swinging loosely behind her as she walked.

"You seen my nighty, Gramps?" she asked, as she sat down on a chair next to him.

"Yeah, I, um -- I put it in with a wash load I was doing," he mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Oh, right -- yeah, I suppose it might have got a bit grubby in the meadow," she responded, wondering why her gramps was a shade red in the face. "Anyway, how about that camping trip?"

John turned his head to look at her. "Seriously? You really think the two of us sharing a tent after what just happened is a good idea?"

"I think it's a great idea Gramps," replied Shannon, her hand reaching over and holding his. "We are two adults, responsible for our own behaviour. If we can trust ourselves to live together in this cottage, what's the difference to going camping together? You can always close your eyes when I'm preparing for bed -- or just turn your back so that you can't see."

John grunted. He looked into the gorgeous, blue eyes of this incredibly sexy, young woman sitting next to him. "I never could deny you anything," he muttered, "but we go into town and buy a larger tent -- one of those modern ones with separate sleeping areas or we don't go at all."

John saw the look of disappointment cross Shannon's face. "It's for the best honey," he said, holding her hand tight, "it could get very messy if anything happened between us and if we got found out I could spend my last years on this planet in jail."

"It's okay Gramps, I understand," she responded, "Shall I go and pack a few clothes? How long are we going for?"

John looked at Shannon, his emotions conflicted, a mixture of relief and disappointment that she had given in so easily. "We can go for as long as you want, baby girl -- I ain't got nowhere to be in a hurry -- and it's been a long time since I've been camping so I'm game to stay there a while."

Shannon's face brightened, "Great, I'll go and pack -- give me ten minutes."

John watched her depart, admiring her shapely arse sculpted in those skin-hugging jeans and wondered, fleetingly, whether they should just use his existing tent. Then he admonished himself and went to his room, packing some clothes and searching out the two sleeping bags from the back of the wardrobe.

They met at the jeep and placed their bags in the back, before he drove them into town. Parking outside the camping store, they went inside and looked at the tents available. None of the two-person tents had separate sleeping compartments, so John opted for a four-man tent, which had two separate compartments for two people each. With the tent selected, John bought some essential supplies from the store and they quickly packed everything into the jeep and drove off into the hills.

During the drive there was some tension between them and John knew that the air needed to be cleared if their trip was to be any fun. Taking the bull by the horns, he eventually broke the awkward silence.

"Shannon -- can I ask you something?" Without waiting for a response, he continued, "Why is a beautiful young girl like you attracted in the slightest to an old fart like me?"

Shannon shifted uncomfortably in her seat before looking at her Grandpa. "Gramps, I've tried boys my age -- some guys slightly older too -- but they still seem like boys when I compare them to you. Mostly, they are only after one thing and when they've had that you never see them again. I love you and I know that you care for me and would never hurt me." She hesitated before continuing, placing her hand on his strong arm, "Grandpa, as far as age is concerned -- when it comes to love, I think it is immaterial. None of us can help who we fall in love with -- age is just a number -- but feelings, feelings reveal our true selves -- who we are, what we care about" her voice growing quieter, a tremble starting to emerge as she continued, " and I know that I want to share some time with you Gramps -- I want to share my feelings for you, with you."