"Two Minutes Each"

I prided myself on being a good grandson. It was the spring of my senior year in high school. When my grandmother, seventy-one years old at the time, mentioned her garden was being overrun with weeds, I volunteered without hesitation.

Three hours later, sweat soaked my shirt and dirt clung to my arms. I was feeling pretty good about myself - until I noticed a vine with three shiny leaves twined around half the flowerbed. A distant, sinking realization hit me.

Poison ivy.

And then the deeper horror: I had just taken a bathroom break.

I was in her bathroom in seconds, scrubbing like a surgeon late for an operation. My grandmother shuffled in with a bottle of soap. “This is the good stuff,” she said. “Kills the oil. But you have to work it in for two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” I asked, already grimacing as the soap immediately stung my hands, which had some scrapes and cuts on them from the gardening. Washing my hands with the soap felt like rubbing broken glass in my hands. The pain was unbearable. After the two minutes, I was in misery. She could sense from my face the agony I was in.

“Come on, you’ll never reach half those spots. Get in the shower.” She grabbed the soap from my stinging hands.

I tried to protest, but my grandmother had the authoritative tone of someone who had once raised four children and could still wrangle a runaway goat. Before I knew it, I was unclothed and standing in her shower while she assessed my arms, legs and—regretfully—my penis. She seemed to pause for an extended period of time while gazing between my legs, but she was likely embarrassed herself as to how to address that area.

“Hold still,” she ordered, counting under her breath as she lathered up the soap in. My face was redder than the tomatoes in her garden. “This is worse than when I caught your dad in a patch of nettles in ’62,” she said. “At least you’re not screaming.”

She started with my arms. I held them out in front of me to allow her to more easily apply the soap to the skin of each arm. I could hear her counting under her breath as she scrubbed in the soap with her fingers. She then had me rinse them under the shower head to remove the lather and hopefully the oils which were drawn from my skin.

She then turned to my lower section. She had a small stool in the bathroom that she dragged over next to the tub and sat down on. Her face was now eye level with my penis. I caught her gaze at it briefly as she contemplated how she would eventually address that issue.

She ordered me to raise one leg onto the edge of the bathtub. I had worn long shorts in the garden, so there was no need for her to lather too high above my knee. She started at my ankles, making her way up as she went. Lathering the area for two minutes became quite a chore. I could see little beads of perspiration on her forehead and she worked hard to scrub every square inch of my skin.

As she made her way up over the knee of my first leg, I expected she would soon come to a stop. However, she continued rising up my leg, scrubbing closer and closer to my penis. At that moment, the situation finally dawned on me: how was I going to keep cool and not get excited when she'd start to rub my penis? I have to admit that I suddenly felt a bit panicked standing there with my grandmother’s outstretched hands a few inches from my penis. Worse yet, these thoughts that had suddenly entered my head now contributed to a sense of nervous excitement.

As she was finishing up scrubbing my upper thigh a twinge in my penis made it flutter. I had no control of it. I was mortified. I had just twitched my penis in front of my grandma as her face was literally a foot away from it. I hoped she had not seen it, but a quick upward glance from her told me it had not gone unnoticed. Worse, I was now fighting the urge to squeeze my pelvic muscles once more. I also noticed that my penis was starting to swell and hang lower. I was not hard, but I was starting to feel heavy as I fought the urge to flex my pelvic muscles once again.

Luckily, she moved on to the next leg just in time. She had me rinse off the soapy leg and then instructed me to put my other leg up on the edge of the tub. As she attended to my ankle and shin, I tried to get a hold of myself. I closed my eyes to try and alleviate the visual stimulation and calm things down. However, as I did this, I could feel my lathered grandmother’s hands rise up just below my calf. The heaviness in my penis was giving way to a swelling sensation as I felt it slightly rise upwards. I opened my eyes to assess the situation and was mortified once more. My penis was half erect and listing outwards towards my grandmother.

As she was still attending to the bottom half of my leg, my grandmother could not see my state, but she soon would. My anxiousness betrayed me and my listing penis continued to swell and rise. Just as it reached a semi-erect state, my grandmother looked upwards as she began to move her soapy hands above my knee. I saw her eyes widen as she came face-to-face with my nearly erect penis. She glanced up at me with a wry little smirk and continued washing my leg.

This exchange pushed me further beyond control, and my penis swelled to its full state. It pointed upwards at my grandmother's forehead. The veins stood out along the length of my fully hard cock. I was so hard at this point that it twitched up and down to the rhythm of my heart. She continued lathering my upper thigh despite the engorged cock, which was looking her straight in the face.

When she finished with the last leg, she ordered me to rinse. I leaned over slightly to adjust the water, hoping to cool down the temperature and my current state. As I bent forward, the head of my cock drove into my grandmother's cheek as she reached into the tub to rinse off the lather from her hands.

“I am so sorry, Grandma”, I said.

“Well you certainly are not a little boy anymore,” she laughed, trying to lower the tension of the moment.

“I can’t control it, Grandma, it just does what it wants.”

She patted my thigh assuringly. “I know boys have two heads and two minds. I know it is not my old body and wrinkled face that are making you this way.”

I could have left it alone and remained quiet to diffuse the situation, but it pained me a little to hear my grandma say this. “Grandma, you are still a beautiful woman. I think most men would find you very attractive.”

“Well, maybe some old man might still appreciate me.”

“I think you are attractive,” I offered.

“Well, from an attractive young man like yourself, that makes me feel very nice,” she said with a smile and glint in her eyes.

“Now let’s deal with the elephant in the room, or should I say the elephant’s trunk,” she laughed, motioning to my hard cock. “At least in this state, I will be able to lather you up easily and not leave any oil in any folds,” she said approvingly.

She lathered up her hands and reached out and grabbed my twitching, hard cock. As her hands grasped it, it instinctively twitched. “Oh,” my grandma exclaimed. “It is raging to go,” she said admiringly as she held my swollen cock in both of her hands firmly. She started to move both hands back and forth in unison. She started to twist her hands as well as she lathered my entire cock. Having my grandmother’s hands on my hard cock now was not embarrassing; I enjoyed it.

She took one hand off the shaft of my cock and used it to lather the angry red head, which was inches from her mouth. As she massaged the soap into my skin, she looked up at me. She did not smile or laugh in that moment, but seemed more intense, gazing at my big cock in her hands. She started to apply more pressure and speed as she pumped her one hand up and down on my shaft and rolled her other hand around the head of my cock.

As we were nearing the two-minute mark, I could feel my balls tighten as they readied themselves to shoot cum from them. I instinctively started to thrust my hips slightly as my grandmother’s hand shot down to the base of my shaft. I know I couldn’t take much more of this. I moaned lowly, causing my grandmother to glance up at me again, still with an intense look on her face.

“I think this should do it,” she suddenly exclaimed. She directed me to rinse off.

When the soap was finally rinsed off, she turned off the water and toweled me off. She was gentle on my outstretched cock. She fetched a jar of thick lotion that smelled faintly of coconut. She dabbed and rubbed it gently in her hands. “Let’s make sure your sensitive parts do not chafe,” she offered. She grabbed my erect cock again in her hands.

This time, she was standing, her face just below mine. She looked in my eyes as she rubbed the lotion into the skin of my hard cock. She looked down again at my cock she was massaging. My gaze followed hers. I noticed a build-up of pre-cum starting to dribble down off the angry head of my cock. My grandmother used one of her hands to collect the dripping pre-cum in her hand to add to the lotion she was applying.

I could again feel my balls tighten as they readied themselves to shoot cum from my hard cock. As my grandma continued to rub my cock, I lifted one hand to rest it on her shoulder to steady myself. She again looked into my eyes intently. I brought my other hand up to her side and rested it there just off the side of her breast. Her hand tightened even more on my throbbing cock. I gently rubbed my hand along the side of her body, my fingers lightly going back and forth on the side of her covered breast. I could feel the underwire of the bra she had on.

As she continued to stroke me, I moved my one hand further in so it now rested fully on the side of her breast. As my fingers gently swept up and down over her covered breast, I could feel the hardness of her nipple beneath the clothing. She removed one of her hands from my cock and used it to unbutton the highest three buttons of the shirt she had on, and then returned her hand to my cock. I took this as an invitation to probe further and I slid my hand underneath her shirt and inside her bra. My hand came to a stop when my fingers found the treasure of her stiff, swollen nipple. It was large and I used my thumb and two fingers to massage the outstretched nipple.

Now my grandma let out an audible moan. I was awash in a sexual trance at this point. My body was warm and buzzing in anticipation of releasing my cum all over my grandmother’s outstretched hands. I boldly maneuvered my free hand down to the waistline of my grandmother’s pants. The waistband of her panties fought my intrusion, but I found my way beneath them to the dense pubic hair which surrounded my grandmother’s pussy. As I slid my outstretched finger between my grandmother’s hairy pussy lips, I could feel the wetness that resided there. I gently brought my finger higher until I felt the slight protrusion of her swollen clit. I let my finger dance around her swollen clit as she continued to pump my hard cock with her hands.

I leaned closer, resting my forehead on my grandmother’s head. “I love you, Grandma,” I whispered to her. She closed her eyes, her breathing becoming shorter as she held her breath longer and longer. Then suddenly she started to groan, her clit was grinding into my finger as she started to thrust herself into my hand as her orgasm overtook her. I steadied her by removing my hand from her breast and placing it on her hip. She opened her eyes and looked into mine.

“Cum for me,” she whispered.

I shot ropes of hot cum onto her outstretched hands. She squeezed my cock with her hands until the eruption passed.

I stood there, now nervous but oddly grateful.
“Don’t look so stricken,” she said with a smile. “We look out for each other. Besides, one day I might need you to lather me down.”

I laughed weakly, and she patted my shoulder.

“Now,” she said, “no more weeding without gloves. And for heaven’s sake—wash your hands before you go to the bathroom next time.”