How Fucking Gramps Saved Our Family

"I think I'm going to have to put him in a home," Barbara said to Jill. She was ready for the onslaught of retorts that her daughter was sure to throw her way, so imagine her surprise when Jill said,

"It may be our only option of saving him."

"Do you really think so?" Barbara asked, enthused that her daughter would side with her.

"Maybe," Jill repeated, "but just promise you won't rush out and do it. Let's do an intervention first. I emailed Dr. Collins, my psyche teacher back at GMC, and he said that these things have, like, a ninety-five percent success rate. You okay with trying that first?"

Barbara thought on it for a few seconds, then said, "We do the intervention and then give it two weeks. If his behavior hasn't changed by then, we place him in a home. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Jill answered. Of course, she had no plans to conduct an intervention. At least, not one anybody might label "conventional."

Jill waited until midnight when she knew everyone would be sound asleep before setting her plan into motion.

Edward lay in his bed, fast asleep. There was movement, yet slight as it was, it was still enough to awaken him. He looked up to see, "E-Edna?"

"No, Edward. This is a dream, a wonderful dream in which I have returned so we may once again be united in marital bliss."

With only the light of the moon shining through his window, Edward made out the black dress with the dark red pattern and the white cuffs and collar along with the short, gray-haired wig that Edna wore prior to her death. He raised his hands to her face. "Oh, Edna. I've missed you so."

That was four months ago.

This is now:

Barbara was happy as a lark, as the old folks used to say. Although she did not win the prior quarter's prize, she did finally achieve that honor this quarter, and as part of the package of goodies she received, she was given the day off with pay. She had parked her car in the driveway as opposed to putting it in the garage because she meant to run in and come right back out. If only she had opened that garage door ...

When she entered the house, Barbara called for her father to tell him the good news, but that single word caught in her throat, almost strangling her. "Daaaaaauuuuhhhh?" She just stared at what was transpiring before her eyes, then, "What the fuck is going on here?"

What was going on was Edward sitting in his recliner while an apparently old, gray-haired woman wearing a black dress with dark red designs on it and white lace cuffs and collar performed oral sex on him. Edward shot Barbara a look of embarrassed surprise as she said, "What the hell are you doing, Dad? What if I were Jill coming home early from school?"

The woman between Edward's legs slowly raised her head, and with his cock still buried half-way down her throat, removed the wig, allowing her brick-red hair to spill over her shoulders to reveal, "J-J-Jill? Oh, my God," and Barbara Williamson fainted dead away, collapsing onto the floor in a heap.

Jill removed her mouth from her grandfather's penis and said, "I suppose we should get her up on the couch."

Edward joined his granddaughter in moving Barbara to the sofa. "There, on the right. Just prop her up," he said, and once they had, he took the cushion to the left of her and said, "Come on, Jilly. Grandpa needs to feel himself inside of you."

Jill smiled as she straddled his hips, then she sank down, allowing the full measure of his cock to fill her dripping pussy. She rode him gently—she liked it slow, and so did he—while he sucked on one of her raspberry-colored nipples. "Oh, Gramps. It feels so good." Edward palmed Jill's ass, helping her with the up-and-down of her motion. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I'm almost there, Gramps."

"Hold on," he said as he began to thrust as deeply into her as he could. "Almost ... Almost ..." and Barbara awoke just as Edward and Jill shouted out in orgasmic delight.

"Oh, dear God no!" Barbara said as she fell to the floor, crying. "Lord, no! Please, God. No. Why? Why would You allow such an abomination to take place?" As she silently awaited an answer she became aware of the squishy sounds of her father's cock continuing to plow her daughter's pussy. She stood and pulled Jill from Edward. "Get off him. Now. You should be ashamed of yourself," then, rounding on her father, "and you! Molesting your own flesh and blood. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It's not like that, Mom," Jill tried to argue, but Barbara wanted nothing of it.

"He's twisted your mind. You no longer believe you're a victim, but once I call the police—"

"You won't do that," Jill said as she stood between her mother and her grandfather.

"Oh, and why not?"

"Because you couldn't survive the embarrassment of it," Jill told her. "Something like this? You don't want anybody finding out about, especially all those Costco people you hold in such high regard. Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong."

Barbara just stared at her. Her jaw was working, but no words issued forth. She grabbed her purse and exited the house.

"That went well," Edward said with a snort. Jill grunted her approval of the joke.

Barbara returned around nine o'clock. What had started out as a day of celebration and good fortune had ended, for her, anyway, in confusion and utter disaster. She had parked her car at the airport and just sat there, wondering a thousand times over how something like what she had witnessed could ever happen. And she seemed fine with it. She acted like she was enjoying it. The only questions that remain are How long has this been going on, and Who instigated it? Barbara mulled this over for as long as she could, and when she decided that her need for answers far outweighed her anger, she made her way back home.

Barbara stopped by her daughter's room first, but Jill was in the shower, so she went to her father's room to speak with him. He answered every one of her questions except for How did this begin? His only reply to that query was "If I told you the story, you wouldn't believe me. Ask Jill. Let her explain it to you." Even after several protests on Barbara's part, Edward remained resolute. "Jilly can explain it all." Exasperated, Barbara left to confront her daughter. Jilly. That sounds so nasty coming out of his mouth now.

Barbara entered her daughter's room to find her sitting on the bed wearing a mint green Chantilly lace baby doll top with matching panties, and her first thought was that she was preparing for another round with Edward. She shook that from her mind, though, as there were more pressing matters at hand. "Mind if we talk?"

Jill, who had been drying her hair with a towel, stopped and lowered it. "Sure, Mom, if by talk you actually mean 'talk.'"

Barbara was about to tell her daughter to not be snide, but she didn't come in here looking to pick another fight, which she knew the statement would set off. She swallowed that jab and said, "Okay. I have spent the better part of the past ten hours trying to wrap my head around this thing between you and your grandfather. I need some answers, Jill. I need to know how and why and everything in between. Can you be honest and forthright enough with me to give me that?"

"Yes."

"Then start whenever you're ready. I'll listen to everything you have to say."

"Have you spoken to Gramps yet?"

"Yes. He told me that you would have to explain things, because if he tried I just wouldn't believe him."

Jill snorted a laugh. "No, I suppose you wouldn't, but understand that everything I'm about to tell you is the truth, Mom. One hundred percent." She took a deep breath, then began.

"You cast a blind eye to almost everything in this household, Mom. You have been so caught up in your own woes that you haven't noticed just bad or good things have been here. This was supposed to be a new start for us both, but you just dragged all your old problems here with you and found comfort in that job of yours."

"What does any of that have to do with what I witnessed today?" Barbara asked angrily.

"Everything," Jill replied. "You didn't notice just how much Gramps hated the senior center, you didn't notice how much weight he had lost, and you didn't notice that he had all but given up on life. He invited us here not to watch him die, Mom, but to help him find a reason to continue living. Don't you see that?"

Barbara said nothing. Her bottom lip trembled just the slightest. She looked down at the floor to hide it from her daughter.

"I tried everything in my power to encourage him, Mom. I truly did, but nothing seemed to work. Remember that day I told you I got Gramma's recipes from the attic?" Barbara, still looking at the floor, nodded her head. "I also found an old dress of Gramma's and her wig, the one she wore when the chemo started making her hair fall out. I was so desperate to save Gramps that one night I decided to dress like Gramma. The pretense was that he was dreaming. This is the night that you and I agreed to the intervention."

Barbara looked up at her daughter when this proclamation was made. "Which you said you had done without me, you and that Dr. Hoozabootsis and those healthcare professionals. I guess that was a lie."

"Well, yeah, Mom. I pretty much just told you as much. My intervention was to visit Gramps in what he believed to be a dream—"

"And fuck him into good behavior?" Barbara snapped, then immediately said, "I'm sorry, Jill. Please, continue."

"Well, you're not too far off the mark," Jill said with a slight laugh. "Yes, my idea was to initiate some sort of sexual contact with the promise of more if he would just start taking better care of himself."

"And you consider this sound reasoning?"

"Again, Mom. I was desperate, and I concluded that I loved Gramps enough to at least try."

Barbara shook her head in dismay. "So, tell me what happened."

"You mean, like, play-by-play?"

"Why not?" Barbara answered. "I've already seen you two doing ... You know."

"Okay," Jill said a bit resignedly. "Here goes."

"I waited until midnight when I knew everyone would be sound asleep before setting my plan into motion. I went to Gramps's room and found him lying in his bed, fast asleep. I was wearing the wig and dress, the same one you saw me in earlier, and I had nothing on underneath it. I slowly crawled onto the bed, pulled Gramps's co—that is, his penis, from his boxers, and then I began to masturbate it. There was enough movement, slight as it was, to awaken him. He looked up at me and said, 'E-Edna?'

"'No, Edward. This is a dream, a wonderful dream in which I have returned so we may be once again be united in marital bliss,' I told him.

"Gramps said. 'Oh, Edna. I've missed you so.'"

"'And I've missed you, Edward,' I said as I bent down and kissed him."

"'How long are you here for?' Gramps asked me."

"'I told you, dear. This is a dream. I'll be here as long as you can keep me here.'"

"Then Gramps said, 'Make love to me, Edna. Please. I need to remember what that felt like.'"

"'On one condition,' I told him. 'You have to promise me that you'll start taking better care of yourself. Can you do that, Edward?'"

"Gramps said, 'I promise, Edna. I'll do anything you ask. Just name it.'"

"'Become healthy and strong again,' I responded."

"'I will,' Gramps said, then he surprised me by asking, 'Can you give me an old fashioned?'"

"Old fashioned?" Barbara asked. "What's that?"

"Well ... Gramps placed a hand on my head and pushed me lower and lower until my mouth was even with his erect penis. This is it, I thought to myself. Can I go through with this phase of my plan? Do I love Gramps enough to do this for him if it helps him get his life back on track? I decided that I did, so I gripped his hard penis and took it into my mouth. Now, keep in mind that I wasn't very experienced with that. Hell, with anything. I had had sex just once in my life prior to that, and that was with Mark Greenwell."

"Little bastard." Barbara exclaimed. "I knew you and he were doing it."

"Not doing, Mom. Did, as in once, like I just told you. Anyway, I did what I thought Gramps might like, and ten minutes later he was coming in my mouth. I didn't dare spit it. At the time, I panicked. For some reason, I was thinking if he thought it were just a wet dream as opposed to a true supernatural experience, it might lessen the effect I had hoped to create. So, I swallowed it."

"You swallowed your grandfather's semen?" Barbara, aghast, asked.

"Yes, and every time thereafter, if you must know the truth. I've gotten used to it. Sometimes I actually crave it."

"Oh, enough of that," Barbara spat. "Get on with your story."

"Well, if you hadn't paid attention, the following morning at breakfast Gramps ate everything on his plate. Not only that, but after you left for work he even pulled two waffles from the freezer and popped them in the toaster and ate those as well. Afterward? He wanted to go for a walk. I accompanied him, of course, as I didn't know if he had the stamina to walk very far, but he pushed himself to walk for about thirty minutes. He was really throwing himself into getting back into shape. He was so tuckered out when we got back home that he slept for almost two hours, though.

"At lunch he had a sandwich and a bottle of Ensure, then he would go around the house and lift things, treating them like weights. I actually had to tell him to slow down, but he kept saying, 'I've got to do this for Edna.' I'll tell you, Mom, what I did for him really lit a fire under him. He cleaned his plate at dinner—you probably didn't notice that either, and that's not a jab, just a fact—and the next morning it was the same thing all over again: hearty breakfast, go for a walk, healthy lunch, work-out, and nice dinner. This went on for a couple of days, and I was so proud of Gramps that I decided to visit him again.

"That night, I entered his room like before, and I pulled the covers from him to reveal he was butt-naked. I took him in my mouth like last time and he soon swelled and hardened. I'll tell you, Mom ... It's so thick. I can barely contain it in my mouth, but I really wanted to know how it felt inside of me. You know, in my vagina? As I was crawling up on him, he awakened and said, 'Edna, you came back.' 'I told you I would,' I replied, 'and since you have done such a good job of eating better and making yourself healthier, I've got a little surprise for you.' I then pushed down, and even though I felt the head slip in, the rest wouldn't. I was too tight, but after working toward it I was successful, and Gramps and I made love."

"I really don't need the particulars, Jill."

"You told me to tell you the story, so I'm telling it. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. We made love very slowly. I must have had seven or eight orgasms before he had his, and yes, I allowed him to cum inside of me. It was such a wonderful feeling, Mom. Don't worry, though; I'm on the pill. Anyway, when we finished I lay there with him until he went to sleep, then it was back to my room. The next day we walked—yes, walked—the mile from here to Costco. When you saw us in the store? Gramps was trying to tell you that we had walked there, and he tried to show you the two-pound wrist and ankle weights he was going to buy, but all you could think about was what your bosses might say if they saw you talking to us. You did ask him about the weights that night at dinner. Do you remember how he answered?"

"Not really," Barbara admitted. "No."

"He said he bought them from Wal-Mart and you absently replied, 'That's nice, Dad.'"

"I ... must have had other things on my mind."

"Yeah. We know. Your award. That aside, Gramps wore those things from sun-up to sun-down for a month straight, then he replaced them with five-pound weights, and every three nights or so I would sneak into his room and we would have sex. I'll tell you, by the second month we knew each other's bodies so well ... Gramps had worked so diligently at making himself stronger that he was actually able to do positions other than me on top. He even began going down on me, and he became quite proficient at it in no time."

Barbara glared at her daughter, but she continued to listen.

"By the beginning of the third month Gramps asked me if I wanted to go to lunch with him one day. I said, 'sure,' and when he told me to pick any place I'd like, as a joke I said, 'The Brass Lantern.' Well, imagine my surprise when he agreed. We ordered the prime rib for two, and during the meal he place a hand over one of mine and said, 'Thank you, Jilly.' When I asked him for what, he said, 'For giving me a reason to live again.' I had thought about feigning ignorance at this, and eventually denying whatever he said he suspected, but I figured why should I, so I said, 'I love you, Gramps. You mean the world to me,' and in that moment I realized that I loved him as my grandfather, but I loved him as my lover as well. He sensed this and smiled as he said, 'I love you too, Jilly.'

"Are you telling me that you and your grandfather are in love with one another?" Barbara asked, shocked at the implication.

"We are, Mom, and regardless of what this night brings, we will not stop having sex with each other. It's not just the sex, though. Gramps is a really interesting man. I don't know how long he has left on this earth, but I plan on being anything and everything he needs until he leaves us."

"You want to know what I think?" Barbara asked, and before Jill could respond, Barbara said, "I think that you are more infatuated with the sex than you are the man. You did say that he was just your second lover. Ever. So, yeah, you're more in it for the sex than anything else. Probably think nobody wants you. Let me ask you this: the whole time he was getting healthier, why weren't you? I mean, you look like you may have lost eight or ten pounds, but you're still pudgy. Lose about twenty more and you'll be a nice-looking woman."

"I don't need to lose weight, Mom, because I already am a good-looking woman. I have a ton of friends back home and I've made just as many here, not to mention that I have a lover who adores every inch of my body. What do you have besides hate and contempt and bitterness? You try your damnedest to rain down misery on everyone else just so they will feel as badly about their lot in life as you do. I'll tell you what you need, though. You need to get laid. That's right. I said it. A good fucking would do you a world of good. Several good fuckings might actually change that shitty disposition of yours. Take one up the ass. That'll be sure to tame your shrew."

Barbara stood and drew back a hand. Jill defiantly held out her chin, daring her mother to complete the act, but Barbara lowered it and said, "You never would have spoken to me like this before. What's happened to you?"

"I've found the ability to leave the past behind me and embrace the future, Mom. It's time for you to do the same."

Barbara stared at her daughter for all of twenty seconds, then she exited the room. She thought to tell her dad of her conversation with Jill, but she just couldn't stomach anymore of this tonight. She took a shower instead and went to bed, but sleep was not a welcome friend. She thought about what Jill had told her. She processed it, analyzed it, turned it over and over too many times to remember. She glanced at her clock. It was eleven-thirty. She got out of bed and went to her father's room, opened the door, and let her gown fall to the floor. Maybe Jill is right, she thought as she climbed onto the bed. Maybe I just need a good fucking.