I've been lurking here in other accounts for a while now, wondering if I would ever decide to share some of my experiences. I decided it was finally time to join in on the fun, but under a new account of course. I may share others later, but for now I'm going to share about the fun times I used to have with my great grandma before she passed - I think these types of stories are grossly underreported here and that's a shame. For clarity, the stories begin when I was 18/19 and she was in her early 80's.

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My great grandma lived alone for as long as I knew her until her health started to deteriorate. She had always been fiercely independent - physically and cognitively "with it" until the end. Every summer I used to ride my bike to her house to help her with chores around the house: cleaning and putting in screens, mowing, sweeping the driveway, watering her plants, visiting the graves of friends and loved ones who had passed to water flowers, various other yard and housework. I enjoyed it. My great grandma was a lot of fun, funny, and enjoyed having someone to spend the time with. I enjoyed the time with her and the free food. As time went on and my hormones began to really rage, I started seeing her in a new way - she was quite beautiful for her age and her pictures from when she was younger attest to her being a hottie through adulthood; being active, she was quite slim, however she had really voluptuous hangers for tits, and thats where I really began to find myself smitten.

There's the set up. For brevity, I will just go on to describe a few of the things that happened and their escalations.

The first time things happened was when we were out in the cemetery one afternoon watering flowers. She was constantly bending over to water them, and always loved wearing loose and low cut tops. I was always looking down her blouse at her fat and hanging tits, amazed how they fit on her slender, small body. Once while reaching under her to grab something, my arm rubbed against her tits and I could finally feel them, although briefly. She never reacted, so I started to get more bold. I'd find things to reach for just to rub up against them when she was bent over. Still, no reactions with each and every slight escalation. So I finally took a deep breath and grabbed a handful. I could feel how heavy they were, how fat and juicy, despite her age and having children, they were. I was so turned on. When I let go and backed away, anxious that I just fucked up, she turned to me and smiled, not saying a word, and continued to garden the gravestones.

This went on most days during those first few weeks, each time with the same reaction. She started wearing lower cut shirts, looser blouses, often without a bra, each time we went out. I felt like I was being baited, and I reacted as such: grabbing handfuls of her tits and squeezing, kneading, rubbing.

Over the summer I continued to press my luck, and each time met with the same approving smiles - never verbal, but all the nonverbal approval I needed. Each time I would leave she would tell me how much she enjoys our time together, and continued to find things for me to do throughout the weeks so I could come over more often.

Bliss.

After around a month or more of this, we decided I should spend the night over a few weekends to help out more around the house. My parents obviously didn't mind, and couldn't help but think about the potential of what might occur throughout the overnights.

The next escalations were at night, of course. We would watch tv on the couch together after she bathed. She would almost always come out of the bathroom with a loose, silk robe on and obviously nothing underneath. It was never all that tight, and I was privy to seeing quite a lot. Sometimes she would come out in her nightgown, again silky, thin, barely able to hide her naked body underneath. We would sit on her small couch, each night a little closer to one another, until eventually we were snuggled up. I allowed my hands to roam freely, and she didn't do much to stop me - just keeping that gentle, approving smirk.

At first we slept in separate beds in different rooms, and I would spend most nights masturbating furiously about each days little escalations. One day while we were out at the cemetery another hot summer afternoon, I found myself standing behind her as she bent over. The thought and image of grabbing her waist and fucking her right then and there wouldn't escape my mind. Before I know it she backed into me - I couldn't tell if it was by accident or not, but I reacted automatically. I grabbed her hips and pressed my now-hard cock against her. There, in the open, surrounded by her dead friends whose graves we were there to keep beautiful, my cock pressed against my great grandmothers ass as she was bent over. She pressed back a little harder, then stood up and quickly walked away telling me it was probably time for us to go.

That evening, she called me into the bathroom while she was bathing so I could get her some of the soap she left on the vanity. There she was, fully naked, her big, beautiful, saggy tits floating in the water; her wrinkled skin hardly did anything other than excite me further. She was beautiful, and I was horny as fuck.

That night, as we were wrapping up on the couch and off to bed, she suggested I sleep in her bed with her. She smirked, and said something to the effect of "There's no reason for us both to be lonely tonight". Laying in bed next to her after lusting after her all summer felt like a dream, and at the same time unbearable. We kissed goodnight and I laid there, throbbing, thinking of what to do as she fell asleep. Eventually I turned into her, spooning her, pressing myself into her as much as I could, pulling down my shorts and lining my cock up right where it needed to be, wrapping my arm around her and placing my hand firmly on her fat tits. Her slender and boney body pressed into mine. I could tell she woke up based on how she moved to me. I began to lift her nightgown up to her waist, and rubbed my cock against her - her ass at first, then the parts of her pussy I could get to, finally resting between her legs so that my cock was rubbing her pussy from the top and squeezed by her slender legs. Her tits fell out of her blouse and I grabbed them firmly. I lubricated my cock with my spit and, grabbing her tits, thrust my cock inbetween her legs, rubbing it back and forth so I could feel her pussy rubbing the top of my cock while her legs rubbed each side. I grabbed and squeezed her tits and I could hear her moan, quietly, gently as she began to push back. I could hear her quietly whisper moan my name before I came all over her legs. As I slouched with bliss, she reached back to push my body away, grabbed my hand and whispered that she loved me, and it was over.

The next day, we had breakfast like normal, didn't speak of anything, and eventually I went home.

But I think about her and those moments often.

I've been dying to find a lady that age again to fulfill the fantasies that I couldn't make happen, regrettably, after that summer. Maybe one day...