grandmother grandson incest
My grandmother Lynn was my grandfather’s second wife and was about 20 years younger than he. She married him after his first wife died and Lynn raised his children as her own even though she was only 12 years older than the eldest child, my mother. When my mother was married and had her first child at 18, Lynn was about 30 years old. Lynn is young thinking, young looking, and young acting which made it strange to have her as a grandmother because she certainly looked more like an aunt than a grandmother.
When her first grandkid (me) came along she was understandably freaked out. Only 31 years old at the time, Lynn flatly refused to be called “Grammy” and she started a running joke by getting me to call her Lynnie, which was the only name I ever used to address her. As the other kids came along years later she relented letting them call her Grammy but I was grandmothered in, so to speak, and always addressed her by her first name.
Lynn was a slender blonde, blue-eyed woman of Scandinavian descent, about 5’7″ with an average frame, small but perky up top. She was no runway model, but she was cute in her own way and she loved my grandfather to death and the rest of the family never thought of her as anything other than blood kin.
My grandfather, Walter Tucker, and his first wife, Lilly, dreamed of raising horses together, so he retired early and used his life savings to purchase a horse farm estate to make that a reality. But when Lilly unexpectedly passed away less than a year later, he considered selling the farm when he met Lynn. Twenty years his junior, she was initially hired as a stable hand but after about 6 months of her working at the farm they suddenly announced that they were getting married. To say this was a shock to everyone is a vast understatement. People were surprised and for years there was gossip of a “reason” for getting married, but no baby was born so the cynics assumed that Lynn lost the baby and the rest of us assumed they found true love.
Grandpa Tuck and Lynn spent two decades building an impeccable reputation for horse boarding and training, and had carved out a comfortable life for themselves. They were able to maintain the farm and shortly after they were married did a major renovation of an old ski cottage that had been in Tuck’s family for generations. The cozy ski house was about a half hour away from the farm, small, but in an awesome location at the slopes. A ski resort had grown up around it and our family used it year round but mainly during ski season. Both Lynn’s and Tuck’s families are very large, so it was common for relatives to cut out of work early during the week, ski a few hours by themselves or with a companion, and drive back home.
By the time I was in my late teens Lynn and I had become the most avid skiers in the family and we tried to get to the ski house as much as time, and work at the farm, would permit. However, we almost never skied together because of the demands on her time from the farm. Those of you that have worked a farm of any kind know that a good day on the farm is when your scheduled 12 hour day ends on time…and that’s not with a “lunch hour”.
When I graduated from college in 1985, about 3 years after Tuck died, the recession made finding a job difficult and Lynn offered to bring me on as a paid worker at the farm until I got some job prospects. I had worked with her for years, and some of the hired staff were getting up in years, so it made sense and I accepted. I moved back in with my parents who lived close by and quickly adjusted to the reality that moving away from home wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
It was winter of 1986. I had been working on the farm full time for 7 months and had become Lynn’s right-hand-man, a position other farm hands were only too willing to accede because of the huge responsibility and time commitment. Lynn and I would cover for each other to get a day off, or sometimes we had one of the farm hands work extra, but we almost never scheduled days off at the same time because it was hard to get people to cover both our jobs.
With little money, no girlfriend, and job prospects all but zero, I was making the best of the situation and took advantage of the unusually snowy winter in the northeast. I would get up at 4, be at the horse farm by 4:30 and leave for the ski house around 3:00. Weekends, and calendars for that matter, are of little use to a farmer. The sun, the rain, and the alarm clock are about all you need to keep track of your life. But on the plus side, by keeping on a such an early rising schedule I enjoyed the best winter skiing of my life. A seasonal lift ticket was an excellent investment that year, and having the ski house to use any time made it an inexpensive way to enjoy a sensational winter ski season. Lynn also made it to the ski house when she could, but not as often as I did.
Lynn had dated very little since Tuck died 4 years earlier, but at 52 she was still an attractive and very fit woman. If she were on the open market it would have been easy for her to find someone but she, like me, was dutifully tied to the farm. The farm work overshadowed most social activities, and after working a long day it was hard for her to get motivated to hit the town or go out on a date. She rarely had guests over other than family and the years without Tuck had made her a bit jaded and short with people. I understood where she’d been and how she got to this point so I was patient and understanding, and when she snapped at me or criticised me I never took it personally and just let it go. She knew that I really cared about her, I respected her, and I just flat out liked her. Lynn rarely made people wonder where she stood and I loved that about her. I would watch how she dealt with people and would just shake my head, laugh, and walk away before her short temper got the best of her and she unloaded on someone who desperately deserved it. It could be a snobby horse owner, incompetent carpenter…you name it. She expected a lot from herself and she expected a lot from others. No one could ever say she wasn’t fair, and I respected the way she lived her life. As I got older I realized that fire in her must have been one of the things that Grandpa Tuck loved best because I sure did. When she got mad, really mad, her blue eyes would simmer with energy and she would stare right at you, through you. It was unnerving because her eyes were so vibrant and pretty it was hard not to look her in the eye but they were so goddamn distracting I’d have to ask her to repeat what she said, which only made her more angry!
Eventually I learned my way around her, how to handle her, and even men who had known and worked with Tuck said on many occasions that they never saw a man (other than Tuck of course) able to calm Lynn down and reason with her like I did. It was sad and telling that nearly every time someone said his name, they’d look at the sky or the ground and with a smile they’d mutter, “Aw, Tuck. Good ol’ Tuck” or something like that. It made me want to be more like him every single time I heard it. To be loved like that, to be remembered like that, with that kind of fondness? Now, that’s a life well lived.
Valentine’s Day 1986 came and went, just another day at the farm for Lynn and for me. Neither Lynn nor I had so much as sniffed a hint or a discussion of a date, which was a bit disappointing for me because this was the first time since I was a teenager I didn’t have someone to take out to dinner. Two days later, February 16, it snowed like hell and I was really looking forward to skiing. I had a 4-wheel-drive truck so getting to the ski house was never a problem and I could hardly wait.
I finished up my work at 3:00 and by 3:15 I was showered and on the road. My normal routine was to get to the ski house, change, be on the slopes by 4:30, get a few runs in and drive back home by 8. There was something fundamentally right with doing this amount of physical work and exercise and I was in the best shape of my life. I was trim, I was eating right, and mentally I was clear as a bell. My life had achieved a sort of Zen acceptance; I ceased the pursuit of unattainable things and I was truly happy. I wasn’t the most attractive guy in the world but I began to see myself as attractive for the first time, not so much physically but deeply pleased with who I was, how I treated others, and how much I was able to help Lynn. I had an opportunity to do a lot of reading and that winter I was truly maturing, becoming a man. At 23, I was beginning to see how life really worked, what was really necessary to get by, and most importantly what you could do without.
I got to the ski house and was in the middle of changing clothes when I heard a car pull up. I pulled up my ski pants and Lynn walked in, much to my surprise.
“Hey Paul!” she yelled with a big smile. “I didn’t know you were coming up here or I’d have hitched a ride with ya!”
I was so glad to see her I was jubilant. I loved skiing with her and being with her, especially away from the farm.
“Yeah, you should have said something! Get your stuff on. Let’s go Lynnie!”
I helped her get her stuff into the house and within a few minutes we were ready to get going. It was 4:30 and the sun was still shining but the slope lights were already burning.
She was an awesome skier and we hit it hard for a few hours. Like me, Lynn was in excellent physical condition largely thanks to the physical labor at the farm. Around 7:00 I suggested we head back to the ski house.
As we got into the house, I was mentally preparing for the ride home, but Lynn surprised me. “I’m not going back home right now and neither are you”, she said quietly, looking at the fireplace. “Please build a fire.”
“What?” I laughed. “It’s 7:15 Lynnie. We gotta get home.”
“Not tonight. Evan and Chase are covering for us tomorrow, and I have Big Danny and his son in the afternoon if necessary. I need some time off, you need some time off, and you’re going to spend it with me! Now get moving!” and she slapped me on the ass, a “Lynnie”, which she did to everyone.
“Like I always say, when the boss lady says build a fire…you build a fire!” I said, laughing. “Wow, that’s great! Time off at last.”
“Tonight I’m not your boss”, she said warmly. She walked toward me, taking my face in her hands. “Tonight I am your friend, OK? Not your relative, just your friend.” She kissed me on the cheek and her lips felt fresh and warm. “Tonight I need a friend.” She walked away and muttered, “Or maybe something more than a friend”.
In a few minutes I had the fire going and its warm glow and crackle were very relaxing. I loved relaxing and falling asleep on the sofa in front of the fire. We sat together on the sofa and Lynn turned toward me and very seriously said, “Paul, I have to ask you something. Do you love me?”
“What? Of course I love you. You’re my Lynnie. What kind of question is that?”
“I’m so lonely, Paul. Tuck was my life. It’s been 20 years and what do I have now? I have this farm. I have no time, and I’m not getting any younger. I’m just so goddam lonely.”
We sat in silence for half a minute or so and she continued.
“You know something, Paul? I’m not stupid. I know a lot of people assumed Tuck and I had to get married. I was so much younger. I know what they said in their little sewing circles. Yes, we did have to get married but not for the reasons they think. We had to simply because we loved each other.”
“Hey, I never thought anything other than that, Lynnie. I knew what he meant to you. Everyone did, Lynnie. We all love you.”
“Not like you do, Paul.”
I smiled. “Yeah, you’re special to me. We understand each other. At least I think we do.”
Lynn said, “I “see” you and you “see” me. We are both at a point where…well…maybe romance is beyond our reach right now. I’m thinking that maybe we need to make this situation work for us.”
“Yeah, it was my first Valentine’s Day without a date in a quite a while. It was a disappointment, but, you know, here I am.”
“Why do I find it so easy to be around you?”, she mused and laughed a bit. “You are so goddam like him in so many ways. I wish you could have known him as an adult. He was so funny, almost nothing rattled him. I was lucky to have him as long as I did.”
“Everyone says the same thing about Tuck. He must have been one hell of a guy.”
“He was. He really was. But he’s gone and, now…now I think after 2 years I am finally accepting that fact. It’s so hard to imagine being happy without him, and harder still to imagine loving someone other than him. I’m not ready to love someone like that again, in that way, but I need intimacy.”
Lynn mustered her courage and continued.
“Do you find me attractive Paul?”
“Yes, I do Lynn. I think you are a very attractive woman. I like you and I love you. I see your beauty deeper than most I guess.”
“It might be wrong of me to say but that means so much to me. I mean, after all I am your grandmother. At least technically.”
“Nah, you’re my Lynnie. I love you like your my own family but I have always held you higher, like you’re better than that or beyond it somehow. I don’t know how to explain it. I know that you sure as hell don’t look like my grandmother! You don’t look like anyone’s grandmother for that matter”, I laughed.
She smiled nervously, stroking my arm.
“I trust you Paul and…I need that intimacy again. I am so lonely, and the farm is like this giant specter hanging over me. Sometimes I go home and just cry and cry and cry and I am alone and I hate it. And then it reminds me of Tuck and I feel good about it for a while, but then that loneliness returns. Sometimes I just want to sell it or have someone else run it. It was Tuck’s dream and now I’m finally starting to realise that. I was part of his dream and he was part of mine but that responsibility…that wasn’t my thing. All I wanted was him. I loved him and the farm came with him and now that all there is left is the farm, sometimes I don’t even want it anymore!”
For the first time in my life I saw Lynn cry. It started out as small sobs and in a few short moments became open wails. I held her close and kissed the top of her head.
“Come, on, now. I’ll help you figure this out Lynnie. You can rely on me. You can trust me, too.”
“Can I?” she asked, tears streaking her face. “How much can I trust you?”
“With your life”, I said flatly. “I love you. I’d do anything for you, you know that.”
“Sometimes I wonder why you stay, why you stay helping at the farm. I barely pay you enough to get by. God knows I don’t make much more. I’m just not as good at it as Tuck was! My heart isn’t there because it broke when he died. My dream, that whole dream of it? It died with him.”
She began to cry again and I felt terrible knowing there was nothing to do except listen. After a minute or so she began to calm down.
“I need you Paul. I really need you”, she said softly.
“I know I don’t do enough sometimes. I’ll help out more when we…”
“No, Paul, I need you now. I haven’t felt…no one has made me feel like a woman for so long. Not a strong, durable woman. I don’t want to be strong and reliable and durable at this moment. I want to be soft, and tender. I want someone to love me and look out for me. I am falling in love with you Paul and I know it’s wrong and there is nothing correct or appropriate about it but I can’t help what I feel. I don’t know what it is about you and I know you are so much younger than I am and the…the family…but I can’t keep this inside me any longer.”
“I love you too, Lynnie. I really do!” I smiled, moving her damp, dirty blonde hair on her forehead.
“No, I love you like this Paul”. She leaned toward me and kissed me deep. Her tongue found mine and in an instant my eyes were closed and my hands found her shoulders.
“Like this”, she said softly. Lynnie moved her lips down my cheek, pitching back and nibbling on my ear until the hair stood up on the back of my neck.
“I know I am taking a risk”, she said in a deep, sexy voice that was altogether unfamiliar. “But I want you. And I want you now. And I am willing to give you everything my body has to offer. I am yours for the taking.”
She stood up slowly and began to undress.
“I don’t need you to love me back Paul. I don’t want you to promise me things. I just want you here and now. And maybe again some time, but there is no other man I want right now other than you. Or more than you.”
“Lynnie I…the last thing I would want is to take advantage of you when you are so…”
“Vulnerable, Paul?” She laughed as she removed her blouse and started undoing her pants. “Paul, I am 52 years old. I lost my husband 2 years ago and I haven’t had sex since then. I’m not vulnerable…I’m desperate!”, she laughed. “Please don’t make me beg you to fuck me!” she laughed ruefully.
“I’ve thought this through, Paul. I obviously planned this…getting you here alone with me, the next day off for both of us. It took a while but I pulled it off. Now. So, are we gonna have some fun? I am ready!”
She was now down to her panties and bra and I was stunned. She had a body a 30-year-old woman would envy, tight and muscular. Her tits were actually a little bigger than she carried them, and wiry blonde curls sneaked and peeked out in contrast to her black panties. I stood up and Lynnie laughed, “Exactly the reaction I was hoping for”, she said. “Was it the black panties?”
“You had me at ‘fuck’!”, I laughed.
And the genie was out of the bottle. In an instant, warm family sentimentality gave way to waves of curious adult pleasure. We kissed wildly and we continued to pull off clothes until both of us realized we were naked. The curiosity got the better of us both and we stopped kissing long enough to admire each other’s bodies.
“Hoowee is this going to be nice”, I said. “You don’t mind if I start with a taste test, do you?”
“Taste away, lad” she said moving toward the bed. She lay down and spread her legs revealing a thick mat of pubic hair and luscious velvety pink flesh slick with moisture. “Taste away”, she said again, pulling her labia apart. Her body had flooded her entrance with lubricant and I licked my lips in anxious anticipation. I knelt down on the bed and worked her open with my tongue, flicking her nice, thick bean just enough to let her know I was there. Based on the audible feedback from Lynnie I think my technique was pretty good. She was going to be a screamer, I thought, and seconds later my suspicion was vehemently confirmed.
“Paul! Paul!!! Paul!!!!!!, she screamed, pulling my head into her and somehow skillfully wedging her finger between my lips and getting her finger on her clit at precisely the right moment. Lynnie shook as I slowly released my lips from her privates, loving and savoring the sticky taste of her sweet, pink flesh. Her pussy tasted sweet as a peach and I was more than ready to make love to her.
“Mmmmm, kisses”, she said softly, gently pulling my head up and moving my face toward hers. “Mmmmm, tastes so nice”, she whispered as she kissed me on the lips, licking them. “So sweet. I miss this.” We continued to kiss for a minute or so and then very suddenly she moved her hips down and I slipped inside her.
“Oh, yes!” she hissed. “Now that is what I need…you inside me”, she said, eyes closed. “You deep inside me”. She bit my neck gently and pulled me inside her until I bottomed out in her slippery passage. She was warm and the fit was perfect. I’m average at best so I guess with such an older woman I was a little worried she’d think I was not up to the task. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“You are a wonderful, beautiful woman, Lynnie”, I said, kissing her neck as I gently moved within her. “I love you now in even more ways than I thought I could.”