My Grandpa has been living with us for a few weeks now. He’s over 60, with a twinkle in his eye and a wandering hand. I’ve noticed him staring at me more than once, his gaze lingering on my curves in a way that sends shivers down my spine and makes my heart race. I’ve tried to dismiss it as Grandpa's harmless quirk, but that day, something felt off.

I stepped out of my car, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow on my face. I smoothed down my skirt, a fitted pencil skirt that hugged my curves, part of my work uniform from the bank. My white blouse was crisp and tailored, highlighting my figure. I slipped off my heels, replacing them with my white socks as I walked towards the front door of the house I shared with my grandpa.

As I knocked, the door swung open, revealing him. He was a tall, imposing figure, with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to undress me every time they met. “Hello, darling,” he greeted, his voice deep and smooth. “Your parents aren’t home yet.”

I nodded, stepping inside and kicking off my shoes. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the summer heat outside. “I know, Grandpa. I’m just here to grab a few things.”

As I walked past him, I could feel his eyes on me, roaming over my body. It was a familiar sensation, one that had been intensifying over the past few weeks. There had been awkward moments, unintentional touches that lingered a little too long, stares that held a little too much heat.

I settled onto the couch, feeling the soft leather beneath me. He sat down next to me, his thigh brushing against mine. I shifted slightly, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he reached out, his weathered hand resting on my bare foot.

"Your feet must be weary after a long day at work," he softly said, his thumb drawing circles on my sole. A surge of electricity coursed through me at his touch, my breath hitching in my throat.

"It’s… it’s alright," I managed to reply, my voice sounding breathy even to my own ears. I attempted to withdraw my foot, but he held it firmly in place.

"Allow me to help you unwind," he urged, his hand moving up to massage my ankle. I could feel the warmth of his skin through my sock, the pressure of his fingers sending ripples of pleasure throughout my body.

I squirmed on the couch, my heart racing in my chest. I knew I should stop him, but the words eluded me. Instead, I found myself leaning back against the cushions, my eyes fluttering shut as he continued to work on my foot.

His hand traveled higher, gliding up my calf. I gasped, my eyes snapping open. "Grandpa, we shouldn’t…" I began, but he silenced me with a look.

"Shh," he whispered, his fingers tracing the back of my knee. "Just relax."

I bit my lip, my body quaking as his hand crept higher. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the delicate fabric of my skirt, the tension in the air between us intensifying.

Suddenly, he seized my hand, his movements swift and assured. He guided it to his crotch, where I could feel the firm bulge of his erection pressing against his pants. I gasped, my eyes widening in disbelief.

"Grandpa, what are you doing?" I whispered, my voice trembling. But even as I spoke, I found myself rubbing him through his pants, feeling him pulse and throb at my touch.

He groaned, his hips thrusting into my hand. "That’s it, baby," he murmured, his hand covering mine and guiding it to unzip his fly. "Touch me."

I paused for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. But the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his skin, the raw desire in his eyes – it was overwhelming. "Are you certain that no one would discover this?" I asked.

"It’s just between us," he replied. "But let’s hurry before anyone arrives,” I said, Then immediately I reached into his pants, my fingers wrapping around his hard, throbbing cock.

He let out a low moan, his head falling back against the couch. I started to stroke him, my hand moving up and down his shaft, feeling the smooth skin and the pulsing veins. He was big, bigger than any man I had ever been with, and I felt a surge of excitement at the thought of taking him inside my.

“Fuck, I,” he groaned, his hips thrusting into my hand. “You’re so good at this.”

I blushed at his words, feeling a sense of pride at his praise. I picked up the pace, my hand moving faster and faster, feeling his cock throb and twitch in my grip.

“Grandpa, I don’t know if we should…” I started, but he cut me off with a kiss, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

I moaned into his mouth, my body arching into his. He took advantage of the moment, his hand sliding up my skirt to cup my ass. I gasped, my hips bucking against his hand.

“Grandpa, please,” I whimpered, my body aching with need. “I want you.”

He groaned, his fingers slipping under the waistband of my panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growled, his fingers sliding through my slick folds. “I need to taste you.”

Before I could respond, he had pushed my skirt up around my waist and buried his face between my thighs. I cried out, My hand clenched in his hair as his tongue delved into my folds, licking and sucking at my most sensitive spots.

“Oh god, Grandpa,” I moaned, my hips grinding against his face. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He groaned against me, his fingers sliding inside my tight channel as his tongue flicked over my clit. I could feel the tension building in my body, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in my core.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his fingers pumping in and out of my, his tongue circling my clit. “Let me feel you come on my face.”

With a cry of ecstasy, I did just that, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. He continued to lick and suck at my, drawing out my orgasm until I was a boneless, trembling mess.

As I came down from my high, he crawled up my body, his hard cock pressing against my thigh. “I need to be inside you,” he growled, his eyes dark with lust. “Now.”

I nodded, spreading my legs wide for him. He thrust into me with one smooth stroke, filling me completely. I cried out at the sudden intrusion, my nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips snapping forward. “So fucking perfect.”

He started to move, his cock sliding in and out of my tight heat. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside my. The couch creaked beneath them as he pounded into me, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Harder, Grandpa,” I begged, my body writhing beneath him. “Fuck me harder.”

He obliged, his hips slamming into hers with a force that left me breathless. I could feel the tension building in my body again, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in my core.

“Come with me, baby,” he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

With a scream of ecstasy, I did just that, my body convulsing around him as he filled me with his hot seed. He collapsed on top of me, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

They lay there for a moment, panting and sweaty, their bodies still joined. Then, slowly, he pulled out of my, his softening cock slipping from my slick folds.

He sat up, tucking himself back into his pants. I watched him, my body still tingling with pleasure, my mind reeling with what had just happened.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, his voice firm. “We’ll never speak of this again.”

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. I knew he was right, knew that this was something that could never be spoken of again. But as I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness, of longing.

Because even though I knew it was wrong, even though I knew it could never happen again, I couldn’t deny the fact that I had enjoyed it. That I had craved it, even.

And that thought scared me more than anything else.