A Road Trip with My Grand Daughter-Part II
Introduction:
This is the second in a series about a Grand Father taking his Grand Daughter sexually. If you don’t like these stories, DON’T READ IT!
There was a steady rain, not hard, but just enough to make a drumming noise on the motor coach’s roof. That noise was adding to my insomnia, as I watched the clock turn 4:00 in the morning; so much for going to bed early and getting a good night’s sleep. If only Kristy hadn’t got frightened the storm, then I wouldn’t be having these conflicting feelings. If only she had allowed me to put some cloths on before she jumped into my bed. If only she hadn’t scooted back into my cock. If only I hadn’t groped her breasts. If only it hadn’t happen. But all of it had happened and now I must live with it. I had molested my grand daughter.
I finally settled down on the sofa bed I had earlier made up for Kristy to sleep in. How ironic, I was sleeping in her bed and she was sound asleep in mine. As least she could sleep, that’s a whole lot better than I was doing. But after awhile, I did manage to drift off for some much needed rest, if not a sound sleep. When I awoke with a start, I realized I had over slept my desired departure time by a half hour and now I would be late getting going. O well, I guess there really is no hurry, so I might as well go over to the office and chat with Elmer for a bit before breaking down the coach for running.
Returning to the coach, after sharing some eggs and bacon with my host, I broke down the campsite; all but the slide out in the bedroom, and I went back to wake up Kristy. I was almost hesitant to wake her, I didn’t know what to expect.
“Kristy, Sweety,” I said gently. She did not move, so I repeated the call. “Kristy, it’s time to wake up,” I said, a little louder. “I’ve got to move the slide out back in and take off. If you want to sleep some more, it’s okay, but I got to move the bed.” With that, I started the motor running to the slide and the bed began to move back to its original place.
She awoke and sat up with a questioning look in her eyes. I said reassuringly, “It’s okay, it’s just me moving the bed back in. I’ll be heading out here shortly, but you can stay back here as long as you want. Go back to sleep now, okay?”
“Okay Gramps,” she said, sleepily, then her head hit the pillow again and she was out like a light.
As I pulled back out onto I-80, I checked my watch and it was 8:30. I had missed our departure time by two hours and I was already tired. I guessed that we could make the U.S. Highway 191 by about 1 this afternoon and then turn north and follow it to Jackson by around 5 this evening. Wow, we are running late, because of my stupid molesting problem. O boy, here we go again.
I drove for about an hour and a half, battling again with myself over the previous night’s activities. At just about 10, Kristy came out of the bedroom, still in her pajamas, and asked if it was alright if she took a shower. I said, “If you don’t mind not having any hot water,” and grinned. She smiled and asked when I would be stopping, so she could take a shower and get cleaned up. I told her I’d stop at the next rest area.
She came forward and joined me in the passenger’s seat. She was barely awake and still showed the signs of that she had slept in. She sat there in the chair and stared out into space. She turned to me and asked, “Couldn’t you sleep last night?”
“No, I had a lot on my mind,” I said truthfully. “I ended up out here on the sofa bed. How did you sleep?” I inquired.
“I slept wonderfully,” she said warmly. “I’ve never slept so well.”
“That’s great,” I said. Then sheepishly I said, “About last night, I don’t know what to say, Sweety. I’m so embarrassed and ashamed of my actions. How can you ever respect me again?”
She looked out at the road for a moment, going over in her mind what I had just said. Then, she inserted, “Gramps, what happened was all my fault. If I hadn’t come running in to your room like that, none of that would have ever happened.” She paused for a moment and then added, “But I’m not sorry it did.”
“Well I am, young lady, and, let me assure you that it will never happen again,” I asserted with a definite tone in my voice.
She did not say anything else, but just sat there, staring out the window, for a long time. Finally, she asked another question. “Gramps, are you ashamed of what happened last night?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I thought what we did was wonderful. I loved how you made me feel. You were kind and gentle with me, being the first time I had experienced anything like that, and you were caring and loving, just how I hoped it would be. Gramps, why are you ashamed of what we did?”
Now it was my turn to think about my response. “Kristy, first of all, it is against the law. I could go to jail for what I did last night. Second, it is against all moral decencies to molest your own, younger relative. It is called incest, and it is also illegal by most standards. And thirdly, it goes against everything I personally believe in. What I did was reprehensible. Yes, I’m ashamed of myself for forcing you into that circumstance and I never do that again.”
She paused a moment again and then said defiantly, “Gramps, you didn’t force me into any circumstance. You didn’t force me to do anything. It was I who force you into allowing me to get into bed with you. I said it was okay when you put your hand on my boob. It was I who answered your question about whether I knew what we were doing and I answered “Yes”. Gramps, I forced you, instead you the other way around.”
“But Kristy, I’m the adult here, not you Sweety. I had the power to stop it and I didn’t. It is my fault, not yours,” I insisted. As I signaled to get off at the upcoming rest area, I repeated, “It is my fault, not yours.”
Getting in the last word, she reiterated, “I still think it was wonderful and no matter what you think or say, Gramps, I loved it and I always will.” She got up and walked briskly back to the bedroom, tears starting to fall on her cheeks.
I turned on the hot water heater as we sat in the rest area. I also decided to use the gas cook top to prepare some eggs and bacon for my lovely, if misguided, grand daughter. I heard the shower turn off as I put the eggs on to cook. “Do you want your eggs over easy, Sweety,” I inquired in my most loving voice. I couldn’t stay mad at her and I hoped she couldn’t stay mad at me.
“Yes, please, Gramps,” her cheery voice responded. Everything was forgiven and forgotten, at least for now.
After she ate her breakfast and I had cleaned up the kitchen, I pulled back on the Interstate and we continued west for another two hours, then we turned north on U.S. Highway 191, towards Jackson. Along the way, Kristy sat up front with me, keeping me company, for part of the way. She also stayed busy texting her friends back home. While she was up front, I took the opportunity to explain to her all about how and why the Tetons were formed. I could hardly wait to show her the most beautiful mountains in existence, at least in my opinion.
As she sat there in the passenger’s seat, she would sometimes extend her feet out and on top of the dash board in front of her. Her slender, long legs would stretch out and I couldn’t help but notice the smooth, athletic shape to them. She was unaware of my gaze, because she was slumped down in the chair, with her mind on her texting. Her bare little feet were cradled by the indention of the dash and the soft flow of her limbs caused my eye to follow them back to the opening of her tiny shorts, where they disappeared beneath the white denim fabric.
On occasion, she would bring her knees up to her chest to rest her phone on them, creating a tantalizing view of her panties sticking out of her shorts at the legs. Her shorts were very short and I had a hard time keeping my eyes on the road. I would chastise myself all over again, peeping at my grand daughter’s display of her panties. My gosh, John, get a life!
We passed through Jackson, on our way to the National Park: it was 5:30. We had just 20 minutes to go. I was bushed, my butt was sore and my eyes ached from the strain of staying open for so long. Finally stopping at the Park entrance, I steered the 45’ coach, towing a Jeep Wrangler, into the campgrounds and we found our home for the next three days. It was exactly 6 o’clock.
After setting the levelers, the slide outs, connecting to the power, water and sewer at the site, I told Kristy, I was taking her into Jackson for dinner tonight. I was too tired to cook and I wanted a big ol’ steak. I told her to change into something a little nicer and I would also put on my duds and we would be off.
She came out of the bathroom wearing a pale yellow little sundress that only came down midway on her thighs. It was held up by two spaghetti straps tried around her neck. She couldn’t be wearing a bra, because I could have seen it. I thought how cute she looked but wondered how appropriate it was, considering our actions of last night.
She came up to me and twirled around, flaring the skirt out a little exposing most of her tights to my eyes. She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek, asking proudly, “What do you think?”
All I could think of to say was, “You look nice, Sweety. You look really nice.”
I had disconnected the Jeep from the motor home when we arrived, so we hopped in and I drove into Jackson, Wyoming, hungry as anything.
We ate a great dinner that evening: a steak for me and a quarter of chicken for Kristy, top off with an ice cream sundae with sprinkles. We were both, full, fat and sassy, so we headed back to the coach and to bed. By the time we got there, it was almost nine o’clock. I was exhausted but Kristy wasn’t.
Suddenly, she asked the question, “Can I sleep with you again tonight or would you prefer me to sleep out on the sofa?”
That conflict started to rage again. If I say that she can sleep with me, can I control the situation better than last night? And do I want to control it? But if I reject her to the sofa, will I crush her fragile ego? I thought long and hard in the few seconds it took for me to answer.
“I don’t care,” I said, copping out. “Suit yourself.”
She tried to hide a smile that crossed her lips, but answered, “Okay, we’ll see. I just wondered if I was banded from the bedroom or anything. You can never be sure about those thunder storms,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye.
I made up the sofa, while she retreated into the bathroom to change into her pajamas. When she came back out, she was wearing a thin little cotton night gown that you could see her panties through. My heart stopped for a second. My God, I secretly hoped that she would be coming into my bedroom tonight, just like the night before, but part of me hoped that she wouldn’t.
I gave her a kiss goodnight and tucking her in, left for the bedroom. I wondered if I should put on my boxers, just in case, but decided not to change my routine. I waited and waited, anticipating the knock on the door. It didn’t come. I was about to slip off into a beautiful slumber, when I was startled back awake with the opening of the door. I could barely make out a figure walking towards the bed, felt the covers pulled away and the small little body crawling in beside me. My silent pray had been answered.
“You decided to join me?” I asked.
“Is it alright?” she replied back.
“Yeah it is. It’s just fine,” I said, pulling her backside into me and cuddling up to her. I placed my arm over her shoulder and grabbed the other one, as I cuddled into her little butt, my bare, flaccid cock, wedged up between her butt cheeks. I let out a contented sigh as I relaxed and soon, drifted off to sleep.
I had wonderful dreams during the night, some of them erotic. I was with a beautiful girl and we were making love. My cock was as hard as it’s been in years. I was straining not to cum as I tried to penetrate into her vagina. It seemed the harder I tried, the more frustrated I got. I couldn’t hold it any longer and as I felt a climax imminent, just as I woke up.
It took me just a moment to realize that Kristy was stroking my cock for all she was worth. Her little hand was on my shaft, pumping up and down, taking the foreskin and sliding it over the erect cock. I could hold it back no longer, so as I strained a grunt deep inside of my stomach, I let out a loud moan and spewed out stream after stream of hot, sticky sperm, landing all over the sheets, my belly and Kristy. She stroked it into limpness as a satisfying release came over me.
“O God Kristy, what did you do? You made a mess. You made your Gramps blow his wad. Thank you,” I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep once again.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, as she bent down and gave me a sweet kiss.
I awoke early the next morning. What was that sound? Who was playing the drums? It was a steady beat, almost like rain. It was rain! It was raining outside and it had been for some time now. That would definitely change my plans for us during the day. I had planned to take Kristy on a hike around Lake Jackson, but now, all I could think to do was cuddle up with my grand daughter and go back to sleep. I reached for her with my hands and, finding her on her side, pulling her back to me with my front squeezed into her back. I felt the bareness of her legs, then her butt cheeks. She wasn’t wearing any panties! My hand sought out her night gown. She had taken it off too! She was as nude as I was! My cock began to grow.
I cuddled up to her bare butt even harder now, pushing my semi-erect cock in between her butt cheeks. She wiggled her hips in acceptance and let out a little moan. The insistent probing of my cock started producing a sweet odor that I hadn’t smelled in a long, long time. There was no hesitation now. The thoughts of condemnation were no longer rearing their objections. Shear lust had replaced any sane judgment, as I moved my hand up to her breast and fondled it tenderly. She moaned and squirmed under my caress as I pulled her into my crotch.
She was waking up now and as she moaned, “O Gramps, that feel so good. Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t Sweety, I won’t even think about stopping,” I assured her. “I never will again.”
I could feel her back into me as I continued pulling her into my cock. It was hard now and jutting right into her pussy from the back. The sweet nectar of her juices began flowing out of her onto my stiff pole. I started sliding it in and out, rubbing into her canal, pushing into her clitoris. She reacted with an uncontrollable jerking of her hips. I was probing into her with my cock, over and over. She was moaning louder and louder.
I suddenly rolled her over onto her back and mounted her tender little body, right between her legs. My mouth went immediately down to her chest and started sucking on her little boobies. She cried out with pleasure as I placed my weight down on her crotch. As I moved from one breast to the other, I purposely ground my weight into her abdomen and groin area and moved around a little. She cried out louder from the stimulation.
I was now ravishing her breasts with my mouth; I could not get enough of them. Her nipples were as hard as pebbles as I sucked and pulled on them. As I started my descent with my tongue, my hands replaced my mouth and I slowly traced down her stomach until I reached her belly button. There I stopped and inserted the pointy tip of my tongue into the indention. The sensation sent a shiver rippling through her tummy muscles and she tried to move out from under me.
I moved on down, over her abdomen, down to her leg junction and stopped, staring at the Holy Grail. I could smell that wonderful scent emanating from deep inside her pussy. I had to taste that sweet nectar, I had to lick her clean. I placed my arms under her legs and slowly push my hands up towards her breasts again. I had opened her up like a can of fruit and I was about to taste her sweet juices.
“Gramps?” she asked hesitantly.
“O Sweety, don’t worry now. You’ll like this, I promise,” I said reassuringly, as I lowered my face into her pubic hair.
With the first lick, she jerked and tried to move away, then, feeling the unbelievable sensation deep inside of her, she thrust upwards with her hips and let out a with a satisfying “YES!” She started shaking her head from one side to the other, constantly moaning and vocalizing her pleasure. With every lick and suck on her clitoris, her pleasure seemed to build. With every entry of my tongue into her honey hole, she would contract her muscles controlling its opening.
My hands were pinching and massaging her breasts, pulling her nipples until they would normally have hurt. But she could feel no pain, just the building of her new found pleasure deep inside her gut, and it was building up to an inevitable release or she would go mad. She was tossing her head wildly now, her hands gripping the sheet on either side of her body. She was crying out in ever higher octaves as the tension continued to build. “O GRAMPS, O GRAMPS!” she was squealing through clenched teeth. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! PLEASE STOP! Oooo, GRAMPS!” and she went stiff as a board. She was building up to a grand release of pent up emotions. She held her breath, as she contorted her facial features. Finally her release came. Wave after wave of an emotional display of pleasure came rushing out of her in one, giant orgasm. She flooded my face and mouth with her juices. She grabbed my hair on my head and pulled first down towards her aching pussy and then away from it as the stimulations became too much for her to in dour.
She was writhing with pleasure as she thrashed around under my body. She literally threw me off of her pussy and rolled up in the fetal position. She would spasmodically jerk and moan her way down. After several minutes of her resting and recuperating, she slowly rolled towards me, hugged my neck and pulled me back down on her.
“O Gramps,” she tried to say, “that was, was…unbelievable.” She nestled down in my arms and went fast asleep.
