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by Lauren McAllister
Donny and I married criminally young. I was but the tender age of 19 and he wasn’t even 21 years old. He was still a student, hoping to get into law school. I was just a lovestruck girl who thought she’d found her handsome Prince Charming.
Due to our woeful lack of income, we were forced to abide with my husband’s marginally-human grandparents. They seemed like okay folks (except for their mirror-cracking physiognomies and barnyard-like appetites) at the time and their house wasn’t too far from Johnny’s school. Oh yeah, and there were those weird old-folk smells?
To be honest, the toughest part was getting used to the lack of privacy. Let’s face it, newlyweds do require some serious “alone time.” All in all, our sex life was pretty good considering how annoyingly quiet we had to be while we were fucking.
And muzzled nookie wasn’t our only minor annoyance. Having to put on clothes every time I wanted to go to the bathroom also got to be a bit of a drag (and let’s face it, being a newlywed also calls for an extensive amount of nudity). If only we could have had our own private sal de bain, I would’ve been 100% happier. But, beggars can’t be choosers and we were certainly beggars. Without them agreeing to give us free room and board, college would have been an impossible. Donny’s lifelong dream would have simply vanished.
The real trouble started on a Thursday. Hubby was doing an evening class and I ended up alone in the house with his grandfather, Jack. I was getting a late supper ready for hubby in the kitchen when the old guy wandered/staggered in to pour himself another glass of wine.
“Mmm, smells good,” he croaked pleasantly enough, after taking a large gulp of red.
“Oh, it’s just some pasta and a little chicken,” I replied. Jack wasn’t normally very talkative so it was somewhat surprising that he would initiate a conversation, however vapid. The next thing I knew, he was standing right behind me still pretending to be enjoying the aroma. I could feel his big and exceedingly hairy chest touch my back. This was way too close for comfort as far as I was concerned but kept stirring the pot hoping he would get bored and wander back to his infantile reality show. But instead of getting bored, he decided to amuse himself by reaching around and grabbing my left breast. Well, I was stunned, shocked, not to mention angry and hurt. What was he thinking? I was the wife of his grandson, for crying out loud! At first I decided not to react, hoping that he would come to his addled senses and let go of me out of embarrassment. Instead, he started to knead my tit with his hand while rubbing his crotch up against my ass. I could feel his erection through his slacks. I was absolutely sickened by the old perv.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get something out of my room,” I lied, freeing myself from his grip. I turned the stove down low and hid up in our room till Donny got home. Mortified, doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. Homicidal was probably a far more accurate.
Needless to say, when my husband got home, I gave him a blistering earful but his reaction was not exactly the one I was expecting.
“Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?” he asked like I was completely stupid and didn’t know when I was being felt up or not.
“Of course I’m sure! He was rubbing his boner against my ass-crack for Christ sake.”
“He’s an old guy.”
“He is an old pervert!”
“Maybe he lost his balance, old people do that. Listen sweetie, we owe him a huge debt. We get to stay here rent free and they feed us. Perhaps it wasn’t quite as innocent as I’m presenting it but what’s the harm in letting a sweet old guy get a couple of quick feels in before he totters off to the grave?”
“So that’s your answer? Just let them molest me?”
“I’m just saying, for the thousands of dollars he saving us, one little nipple squeeze is not the end of the world… Is it?”
Donny and I did not have sex that night. And I also poured his late-night dinner down the garbage disposal. When I woke up in the morning, I was a slightly more charitable to my husband’s position. He wanted to be a lawyer so badly and this was the only way he could see to make that happen. Well, perhaps Donny was right under the circumstances and the odd uninvited grope wasn’t going to kill me.
I didn’t have another run-in with His Sliminess for about a week and a half. It was another late-night, Don was out at some class and I was taking a much needed bath. About halfway through my sudsy activities, the door swung open and there stood dear old ancient granddad, with nary a stitch on. It looked like he’d been drinking some major amounts of vino and was in the mood for something decidedly unsavory.
Oh well, perhaps grandpa ogling my body wasn’t quite as bad as having him pawing at it. It was time for me to take one for the team. So, I did nothing. I didn’t scream. I didn’t try to cover up. I let him gaze upon my waterlogged flesh, just like Donny had sort of requested. Jack just glared at me as I continued my ablutions uninhibited by his presence. Two or three minutes into our naked Mexican standoff, his aged penis began to rise from the geriatric grave (it was about as appealing as that alien creature rising out of John Hurt’s stomach). I guess the old bastard liked what he was leering at so intently.
If that wasn’t horrific enough, when it was fully erect (in the very most liberal sense of the word) he began to unashamedly stroke his mini-monster. Hey, I’m a young, good-looking girl, I’ve had guys jerk-off in front of me before but this was the very definition of nasty. After a couple of minutes of this revolting auto-erotic display I sat up in the tub, fully exposing my breasts, my nipples breaking the tension of the surface of the water. “What do you want Jack?” I sighed and rolled my eyes wearily.
At first he was taken aback by my forward nature and indifference to his unsightly wanking. “I want you to suck my cock, just like you do Donny’s,” he declared. Well, at least he was honest about it. “I feed you and I house you. It’s the least you can do for the money you’ve cost me.”
He probably expected me to fly out of the water like an avenging angel and kick him in the nuts – which he more than deserved – but I had my marching (or should I say sucking) orders. If I turned him down, I’d be endangering our future. Johnny was doing his part by studying day and night to give us a better life. The least I could do is spend a few minutes with his grandfather’s cock in my mouth. “Well, it won’t get itself sucked all the way over there, will it? Why don’t you try standing next to the tub with that thing?”
Jack was a little confused. He wasn’t totally sure that this wasn’t some sort of ball eviscerating rouse (and it certainly should have been). I tapped the side of the tub and indicated with my eyes that this was the cock-sucking place to be.
Granddad slowly approached me, withered erection in hand and stood expectantly beside the bath. I took his weathered wiener in my hand and stroked the shaft gently. It wasn’t very hard, but then again it was over 60 years old and had definitely seen better days. I circled the tip of his knob with my tongue, giving it the occasional noisy kiss. Common sense and human decency was telling me to push him backwards over the toilet and run out of the room screaming but once you use the end of a man’s wad for lipstick, there is pretty well no turning back. Resigned to my fate, I opened up my lips and slid him onto my tongue. He was small enough that I could rake the underside of his gonads with my bottom teeth without gagging on the end of his squirter. Grandpa must’ve thought he’d died (which was always a good bet) and gone to heaven (not so much). He let out a bunch of these off-putting gurgley moans as he attempted to wake up his sperm long enough to shoot them out of the end of his rod. “Why am I doing this?” did cross my mind about 10 million times while I used my head to jackhammer his pallid penis. Finally, after tickling his scrotum with my fingernail, he managed to drip a dollop of geriatric cum into my mouth. I didn’t even give him the courtesy of letting him inspect the product of our encounter. I just swallowed the murky sludge and pushed his round fat belly away from me.
When Donny got home from school that night, I had planned to tell him what had transpired but he’d just gotten an “A” on a really important exam and he was over-the-moon happy. It was not hard to see how much it meant to him. Shit!
“Well, aren’t you going to kiss me?” he asked.
Sigh. “I’d better go brush my teeth first.”
I fretted and sighed over this revolting state of affairs for the rest of the week. Donny was also acting strange and agitated. I guessed we were both going through our own personal hells (though, mine was definitely way more hellish). It wasn’t until the next Monday the things actually got worse. Hubby was off to an early class and I was still asleep in bed. Jack must have open the door super quietly because I didn’t even realize he was in the room until the bed bounced and I felt him lying beside me naked.
“What the hell you think you’re doing?” I quite rightly inquired.
My silver-haired mattress mate came directly to the point. “You’re going to let me fuck you or I’m throwing you out on the street. Today! Consider this your rent.”
Jesus Christ! All I wanted to do was strangle the old bastard to death but I had Donny’s goddamn education to think about. How could he continue to go to school if we’re homeless?
“Don’t think too long. I’ve got important things to do. I can just lie in bed all day like you.”
“All right!” I bellowed as I rolled over onto my back and spread my legs.
Jack licked his palm and fingers and then wiped them on my pussy (like that was going to be all lubricant he was going to need to barge right in there). I quickly reached over to the side drawer and pulled out a small tube of KY. Foreplay was obviously not one of his strengths. He almost knocked the wind out of me when he rolled his big fat belly on top of my solar plexus. The next float on this happy parade involved several minutes of frustrated grunting and banging around my vulva until I finally just grabbed his cock and guided it into me. Looking up at that fossilized troll’s face as he ingloriously humped my disinterested twat was torturous. Big beads of sweat rolled off his forehead and cheeks as he ramped up to his villainous orgasm. In fact, we were both swimming in his profuse perspiration and the sheets around us were sodden. It was practically cascading off him by the time his eyes bulged out and he stopped breathing. I was really hoping it was a fatal heart attack but alas, he was just cumming. The thought of his rancid seed seeping out of his fetid fuck-stick and staining my insides made me want to crawl off into a corner and cry… But first I had to get that monster off me and Liquid Boy was in no hurry to vacate the premises.
It took almost 15 minutes for the little plague rat to catch his breath afterwards but he did have some kind and helpful advice to impart as he left me to wallow in a bottomless pool of my own self-loathing. “When Donny finally gets a job, get him to buy you some better tits.”
I couldn’t bear to tell my husband that dear old grandpa had made firing his nut juice up into my uterus a precondition of our lodgings. One would’ve hoped that my assignation with that cancerous cunt would’ve been a one time thing but practically every time Donny left the house Jack would start unzipping his pants. He fucked me on the couch, in his bed, our bed and bent over the kitchen table. I’d never had sex like this, that was so impersonal and completely lacking in any kind of humanity. Even guys who banged me in high school at least pretended that they like me. For the first time in my life, during those repellant liaisons, I really did feel that I was just a disembodied vagina and tits. The hate that I felt for that prehistoric prick was suffocating. Having to take my clothes off in front of him and “assume the position” was spirit crushing. Every time he entered me, I wanted to rip the fallopian tubes out of my body and garrote him with them.
One day, I was on all fours on the living room couch, getting fucked up the ass when I decided that this was the very last load of jizz that antediluvian idiot was going to pump into my colon. After he’d cum (he was so old, I’m surprised dust didn’t come out the end of his dick), I reached back and gently pulled his arthritic piss-tube out of my sphincter.
“I have to go somewhere,” I blithely mentioned while putting my bra back on.
“Well don’t be too long, I may want a second session before bed.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” I lied as I pulled up my panties.
Once I was fully dressed, I headed straight for the nearest bar. Once ensconced on a bar stool, I proceeded to empty several attractive bottles of Scotch. Of course, someone decided to hit on me but I possessed the perfect pickup-line retort.
“I’m sorry, but I just finished getting fucked up the ass by my husband’s grandfather I’m a little sore right now. Perhaps tomorrow.”
By that time I headed back to Hell House, I was really feelin’ it. I loved Donny but I had had it right up to the nips on my tits with his whole Goddamn twisted family. It was time to get out before I killed someone. First things first of course, before any heads could be severed from their oh-so-deserving bodies, I really needed to pee. Up the stairs I went and charged through the first door on the right only to find… My husband on his hands and knees, naked except for a dog collar and leash, eating his grizzled step-grandmother out while she sat on the toilet. All my God! They’d turned him into a room-and-board whore too! We were living in a house of depraved sexual mutants.
“I’ll take that you unshaved bitch!” I yelled, yanking the dog leash from her hand and pulling my husband out of the room.
We were packed in 20 minutes and slept in the bus station that night. Never were two people so happy to be homeless.
Donny’s a successful lawyer now and we own our own tutor style house in the suburbs. But every Sunday though, I put on a short skirt and we head into the city, to a very pretty cemetery where I like to squat down and piss on Jack’s grave.
It’s so much more appropriate for him than flowers, don’t you think?
Copyright 2014 Lauren McAllister
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