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The following contains scenes of consensual sex between a grandmother and grandson, and of leg and foot worship.
It had all been so terribly surreal, so wonderfully sexual, so forbidden and perverse.
There were 52 years difference between them, two generations worth of years, Barry at 18, Mary at 70.
That alone wasn’t so bad. Many a young man had fallen for a much older woman. But this was very different.
This was grandson and grandmother.
Barry had always felt a deep love for his grandmother, and of late, particularly her legs. He’d always been fascinated with them, their firmness, suppleness, athletic look. And as she aged, they seemed to get better, at least to him.
And not long after he turned 18, his fascination turned to outright lust for them, fantasizing about them. They were exquisite for a woman her age, a very fit, tall, lean and classy lady. Her body and legs were tanned constantly, as she loved the sun and the beach, and her thighs were dark, freckled, long and tight but at the same time imbued with the sexy fleshiness that maturity brings.
The insides of her alluring thighs were slightly wrinkled and saggy, and Barry loved the sexy wobble of their creamy smooth interiors when she sat in shorts. Absentmindedly, she would read her paper and move her legs back and forth, not knowing she was filling his young mind with all manner of perverse thoughts of what he wanted to do with them, to them, in them.
Her calves drove him mad as well, so firm beneath the slight wrinkles, a delicate, noticeable vein running up from her ankles, feeding blood to those solid old calf muscles.
She’d caught him staring at her legs one day as he was visiting for a week during summer break from college. She confronted him, delighting in his embarrassment and shame, and letting a dominant part of her take over she didn’t know existed until it swelled within her.
And she offered him her legs.
He was a man possessed with them, a horny young man caressing, massaging, licking and sucking his Grandma’s luscious legs – at her direct command.
He was lost in the submission of her new-found dominance, both embracing this forbidden sexuality completely.
He’d licked her hairy pussy, imprisoned in the fleshy grip of her scissoring thighs as she pounded into his face in a standing position, fucking it for her pleasure, and then took him – in those thighs – face to face, scissoring his cock high in them, triggering her own orgasm as his meaty shaft brushed her cunt and he blasted his seed into the twitching, squeezing confines of her incredible thighs.
Mary knew it was wrong, and that she should have stopped it before it began. But she couldn’t.
She’d seduced him with her incredible legs and there was no going back.
Their sexual relationship was mostly leg-centric, the doting lad adoring them, licking, sucking, caressing, worshipping them, making love to them, always a prelude to eating his grandmother to orgasm, or outright fucking her.
It was her calves that seemed to captivate him the most, and many an encounter would include Mary sitting on the couch, scissoring his cock in her meaty, muscular lower legs, lubricated by the boy’s spit and/or his pre-cum, squeezing the steely limbs, pulsating the muscles around his dick, jerking it off with them. He’d cum like a fountain, coating her beautiful calves and shins.
And she’d make him lick them clean, though no force was actually involved; he loved doing it because she loved having it done.
And her pleasure was all he needed to get his.
They were heading for the beach this afternoon near Mary’s house, a short walk to a stretch of sand popular with the small-town residents.
“Grandma, you look great!” Barry gushed as she came downstairs in a sensible one-piece bathing suit, yellow, slightly low cut but hardly revealing, a little old-lady style skirt around the waist. “But I bet you could look better…”
“What do you mean, Barry?” Mary laughed, going to the counter to ready the day’s supply of food.
“Well, just thinking,” the doting grandson said, coming up behind her to press into her saggy but sexy ass, arms around her, licking at the side of her neck that he adored, tasting the fleshy folds, salty and warm. “What about a bikini?”
“Good God, Barry, a bikini? At my age?” she laughed, pushing her butt back to his hardening cock.
“Oh, come on, Grandma, 70 isn’t old and besides,” he groaned, feeling his nuts ache for release as he dry humped her urgently, “women half your age should have a body like yours! You’d look great!”
She groaned as he thrust into her, his hands now dipping into her suit top, tweaking the wrinkled brown nipples.
“You’re a sweet talker, boy, I’ll give you that…,” she giggled. “Tell ya what: Let me go have a look at my old suits. God, haven’t worn a bikini in ages, wonder if I have any left.”
She shook him away laughing, turning to frame his beaming young face in her hands and devour canlı bahis him in a long, deep kiss, her tongue lashing into his mouth. She stepped back and looked down at the tent pole in his baggy bathing suit.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she smiled, twisting his cock and making him yelp. “So will a stiff young cock!”
She went up to her attic, hot and steamy on this very warm summer day, and pulled out an old box. Inside were a variety of old bathing suits and bikinis, some terribly dated. But she managed to find a lovely old white bikini in which, she recalled, she looked rather good 20 or so years ago.
“What the hell,” she shrugged.
She shucked her sensible suit, her hirsute pussy already damp from the brief interlude with Barry moments ago. She held up the bikini and wondered. She had stayed the same weight over the years and hoped it would still fit.
It did. Like a sexy glove. She stood, hands on hips looking into a full-length mirror nearby, turning left and right.
“Dammit, I still got it,” she sighed, tensing her long legs, marveling at the noticeable muscle tone that Barry loved so much.
It was tiny on top, her thick, deeply wrinkled cleavage on clear display, tanned and freckled. The bottom was quite snug and high cut, revealing a good bit of her meaty, dimpled ass, with a profusion of curly gray pubic hair peeking out of the crotch panel. She tucked some back in but it was a losing battle, and one she knew would drive Barry nuts.
She waltzed back downstairs where Barry sat on the couch. He looked up, and his jaw dropped.
“Oh my GOD Grandma!” he gushed, standing, his cock stiffening at the sight of her.
“Thank you dear boy, yes, I do look and feel rather good in this, so glad you suggested it!” she laughed. “I guess I’m not that old yet!”
Barry hit his knees before her, hands running up the wrinkled backs of her thighs, burying his face in the fronts, lapping madly at the succulent meaty flesh of them, shaking her legs and making them slap at his face.
“Now, now, let’s get to the beach,” she scolded in mock anger.
“God, Grandma, your legs, your legs!” he growled, licking the insides of them.
Playfully, she opened them up, popped his head inside and slammed them shut around his ears, locking her feet and standing up straight. Barry groaned loudly, a groan of pain and pleasure coming up from between his grandmother’s powerful old thighs – but mostly pleasure, as Mary tensed her rugged legs, the muscular pincer-like interiors knifing into the sides of his neck, slowing the blood to his brain, making him groggy.
“Now then, we must get to the beach, or I can just stay here and scissor you in my beautiful old legs all day!” she laughed, quivering the thighs on him. “Maybe knock you out in ’em! Done that before, haven’t I…”
“Stay…here…pleeeshhh,” he slurred, hands slipping down to her bulging calves as sleepiness overtook him.
“Yes, I thought as much,” she laughed, unlocking her scissor hold on her grandson and letting him slump to the floor. “But I want to hit the beach! Plenty of time for leg play later!”
She walked to the kitchen to complete packing lunch and drinks, Barry staggering up behind her, eyeing those tanned, sturdy legs. She turned and saw his dick sticking straight out. She shook her head and grabbed a soft ice pack from the bag, walked to him and stuffed it down his suit front. His eyes shot open and he screamed.
“OWWW!” he bellowed, trying to back away.
“Can’t have you walking to the beach with an erection, Barry,” she said. “Plenty of time for that AT the beach!”
His dick wilted quickly, and she resumed packing.
They walked out, down the street toward the beach, Barry carrying the bulk of the gear and walking just behind his grandmother, his eyes feasting on her beautiful legs as she strode along in pink flip flops, her favorite pair.
At the beach, they took a spot as far away as possible for others, giving them just enough isolation to play out the boy’s fascination with his granny’s sexy legs.
They set up two chairs, but Barry was comfortable to lay on a towel by his grandmother’s feet, laying on his belly and just watching them. Mary sat back and read a book, scooting her feet out, ankles crossed, her delectable old toes inches from his face.
“God, your feet are so sexy, Grandma,” he growled, reaching out to touch them.
She slapped at his face with one.
“Barry, there are a lot of people here still,” she scolded. “We got here late, it’s mid-afternoon, so they’ll be leaving soon. Now just be patient. And wait. And look at my legs and feet.”
He nodded frantically, licking his lips.
“And take some photos and videos of them, why don’t you?” she laughed. “Be good to have material for…for you know, back in college, those lonely nights without me…”
He whipped out his phone eagerly, keying the video function and aiming at her wiggly feet and flexing legs.
“That’s bahis siteleri right, get those toes, nice and close, when I open ’em up like this,” she cooed, spreading them wide and delighting in Barry’s groaning response. “Right in between…look at that nasty stuff, the sand, the dirt, so gritty in there…wish I had someone to smell them, lick them, suck ’em clean…”
He inched forward, eager to do so. She looked around. No one was looking their way, so she stuck her right foot in his mouth, all five toes, nearly gagging him.
“Keep filming, Barry, get some nice shots of you sucking my feet…go on, use that tongue in there, really dig in!” she snarled.
Barry cried out in pleasure, eyes fixed on her feet, camera shaking in his hand. He lapped the toes in his mouth, digging between them, tasting the grit and grime, relishing the funky scent, and slowly humping the towel he was lying on as he did.
“Now the other one,” she said, popping it out and replacing it with the other.
He sucked even harder, humping faster into the towel. She reached over with her other foot to slap his ass, quieting his thrusts.
“Slow down boy, you’ll cum in your bathing suit!” she laughed. “You do that, I’ll make you lick it clean!”
That thought alone almost put him over the edge, as she let him keep slaving over her dirty old foot before pulling it out and sitting back, legs stretched out before his adoring eyes.
“Keep filming, boy, get the nice long sweep of my nice long legs,” she instructed, which he did eagerly. “Start at my shins…they’re nice and dark and all freckly aren’t they? Move to the sides, see that nice furrow of muscle separation from the front of my calves to the back? Rather sexy, wouldn’t you say?”
“God, yessss!” he gasped.
She uncrossed her legs, spreading them a bit and pointing her toes in the sand, the position balling up her fierce calf muscles into fists of steel beneath her silky, dark skin.
“Look at that, will you, look at those bubbles!” she laughed. “Big and bulgy, huh, all that muscle! Want ’em wrapped around your neck, Barry? Want my calves to scissor your neck, maybe knock you out?”
“Oh fuck Grandma, yes, yes!”
“Watch your mouth, young man!” she snarled in mock anger. “Guess I just have to punish you, though my calves on your neck is hardly punishment, is it!”
She shot those muscled bubbly lower legs out and instantly locked them around his neck. She looked down the beach. Still, no one was paying attention on this late afternoon, the beach getting emptier by the minute. She smiled, looking down at her grandson writhing in the objects of his fascination, his hands pulling at them, and squeezed harder.
“Now, I want to read my book,” she sighed. “So nighty night, Barry.”
She put on a sudden crunch, pinching her meaty calves tight on his neck and he was out. She laughed, watching his body convulse, and released her grip. Sitting back, she crossed her sexy legs and kept reading as Barry slowly came around, groaning.
“Wow, Grandma, that was unreal,” he said, rubbing his neck, slithering back on his blanket and picking up his phone again to film her gently bouncing crossed leg. “Calves…so strong…”
“Yes, keep filming, Barry, get the sexy little wrinkles of this big calf as I bounce it like this…that’s right, and up the sides to my thigh…god, I love that crease on the side, the big slab of muscle on top and in back! Sexy, isn’t it? Maybe you can show the boys in your dorm my legs, see if THEY like ’em, too! Think they’d like ’em, these old legs?”
“No way,” Barry laughed. “Not sharing my Grandma with anybody!”
“That’s the right answer,” she smiled, silently wondering just how much other young men would like her sexy old legs
They sat quietly for awhile, and then Mary looked down at her feet. She didn’t like the looks of her toes, it had been quite awhile since her last pedicure, and the toenail paint was chipped and ugly.
“Hmmm, my toenails are quite a mess,” she sighed. “Have a look, Barry.”
She shoved her feet out under his face. He groaned, inhaling the vapor from them, acrid and sweaty. Her nails were indeed in need of a touch up, he thought, as he devoured them with his eyes, up the tendon-popping insteps, drinking in every sexy pronounced vein of her gnarly feet, even the delicate little hairs on the tops of her toes.
“God, they’re gorgeous!” he gasped.
“Thanks, my dear, but I think I need a pedicure,” she said. “You don’t mind, do you?”
She reached into her bag and pulled out her toenail repair kit, a polish remover, cotton balls, polish and even a pack of toe spreaders, little foam things that pop the toes apart. Barry nearly came in his suit just watching her sort the gear out on his towel.
“Really?” he gasped. “You want me…to do it?”
“Of course,” she said. “Go get a cup of sea water to wash them off first.”
He eagerly obeyed, his cock throbbing in his suit, grabbing a paper cup, racing to the water, filling it bahis şirketleri and returning. He lay down again, washing his grandmother’s feet clean of sand, and then pulling them to his towel, using it to dry them off.
“Now, remove the old polish,” she said.
He did, coating a cotton ball with remover and lovingly stroking each of her deliciously long toes, stripping the nails bare, one by one, fighting the urge to cum as he ground into the sand. She watched him work, smiling, looking down the beach where only a handful of people remained.
“That’s a good boy…now wash them again, dry them off…and put the spreaders in, nestle them right in between my long, bony toes!” she laughed.
Barry was going insane as he obeyed, cleaning and drying her feet, and putting in the spreaders, which spread wide those luscious toes. He shook the toenail paint bottle, a brilliant red, and opened it. Lovingly, one by one, while holding each foot under the ball of it, he stroked the paint on.
He was careful not to smudge it or get any on the cuticles or delicate toe flesh going very slowly to do the job right, but mostly to be make servicing the sexy feet of his grandmother last as long as possible.
He screwed the bottle closed and held both feet in his hands, leaning forward to blow on them, drying them off. Mary smiled proudly watching her slavish grandson complete his task.
“You did a great job, Barry, a great job!” she said. “They’re dry, so pull out those spreaders.”
He did, looking at them. She leaned over and directed them to his face.
“Smell ’em,” she growled. “They were in there quite awhile, what do they smell like?”
He inhaled, groaning, his eyes fluttering.
“Heaven,” he croaked. “like heaven..”
He smiled up at her, helping her return the gear to her bag. He lay back down, staring at her legs as she sat, cross legged.
“Lick them,” she said, as she read her book, not looking at him.
“Really?” he asked, looking around at the nearly empty beach, the only remaining few so far away they couldn’t possibly see what was going on without binoculars.
“Really,” she sighed. “You’ve earned it. Start at my feet, but not my toes, you’ve eaten them already. Here, right here.”
She pointed to tops of her feet and Barry started in, sweeping his tongue up her foot, lapping at the tendons pushing through the skin, over the inside ankle bones, around the sides. She continued to read, acting nonchalant, but getting very moist and warm between her tanned thighs as he lapped at her feet.
She held them up to his face now and he groaned, holding them, running his tongue up and down the soles soles, digging into every sweet wrinkle, thick and with a papery feel. He languished on the balls and heels, relishing the roughness of the slight callous there that felt heavenly on his tongue.
She dropped her feet down, her legs slightly parted.
“My shins, Barry, lick ’em…that’s my boy, up the bones, lick the skin, taste the sweat and salt of my shins..my knees, lick ’em, Barry, suck on those bony kneecaps,” she cooed. “Now down, suck those calves, here, lemme make a better target!”
She pointed her toes, again fisting those rugged calves in fierce muscle under the slightly saggy flesh that tightened over them.
“Put your tongue on it, baby, that’s right, that’s it, up and down…start below the bubble, at my ankle, and them up, over that big swell of muscle…mmm, feels nice…love the way your tongue wrinkles my calf flesh like that when you lick…now put your mouth on that one, right there, suck it baby, suck on Grandma’s big calf while she flexes it!”
Barry’s mouth opened wide, sucking on that hard muscle covered by salty, sweaty, wrinkled skin. Mary tensed and relaxed it, pumping the muscle, pulsating it. He groaned, washing it with his tongue as the big bubble filled his mouth.
“Nice, Barry, nice, that tongue feels so hot on my calf!” she laughed, continuing to flex the muscle in his groaning mouth.
“Ok, now up you go, right here!” she said, pointing to the side of her right calf. “Connect the dots!”
“Yes, silly boy, this dot…this one…this one…,” she said, pointing to freckles dotting her saggy outer calf.
“Oh, GOD yes!”
He knelt by it, running the tip of his tongue from one to the other, slowly crisscrossing the meaty flesh back and forth, up and down, all the way to her knee. He looked under it, into the crook as she sat with legs slightly bent. A tendon throbbed from the bottom of the outside of her right thigh to her calf, and in the shadowy hollow of her knee, a most succulent looking waddle of wrinkled flesh, soft and inviting.
“Suck on that,” she growled, noticing what he was looking at.
He groaned, flipping to his back and up on his elbows to bury his face into the sweet crook of his grandmother’s sexy knee. He pressed his mouth to it, sucking the meaty folds of flesh there, licking them, adoring them. His eyes poked out the other side, and Mary delighted in watching them roll over in their sockets as his body shook and tongue continued to worship her knee crook.
“This could be interesting,” she mused, bending her leg around his sucking mouth.
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