Grannie’s pies – Pt. 01

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It had been about 10 years since I’d last visited my grandmother. It was a strange feeling, seeing the woman I’d grown up adoring for what would seem to be the first time, yet so familiar. On the train from college in suburban Philly to a small town in Vermont, the sights, sounds and smells of grandma baking bread, singing music she grew up with from the 70s ringing in my mind, her letting me licks the spoon after she finished preparing her famous honey nut cookies (everyone in the small town of Rutland loved them). I wondered if she still spent hours in the kitchen baking for folks in the local firehouse and the church suppers. I mulled over how much I loved how nice grandma smelled when we walked downtown.

Grandma was the most beautiful woman I’d ever known. She spent an hour or more every day in the workout room she’d created with grandpa, who had long ago decided to chase some hot tail in warmer climes of Alabama. I recalled that his now ex-wife was upset for about a week, then spent the next weeks reinventing herself from a doting, adoring wife to a steamy woman who could be a pinup model from the 1940s. She’d gotten a decent settlement from the divorce, so she didn’t have to work, though she did a little light bookkeeping at a motel in nearby Burlington and working the greeting desk at Wilson Castle. As I understood it she’d become a large personality; big enough and with enough energy to light all 7 plus square miles of the town. Grandma attended every square dance on Friday nights, was quite attractive in her cowgirl hats and fringed skirt that made the young cowboys (and a number of the female dancers, as well) hang out their tongues, all of them wanting to take her home, no matter their age. But mima, as I always called her, was way too classy to hang around with youngsters that were, as she put it “young, dumb and full of cum.” She knew she was teasing them, but figured she was doing a public service by helping the young cowpokes find girlfriends of their own age. Grandma posited that some of those girls would be asking that age-old question “is that a gun, or at you just happy to see me.”

In the train’s sleeper car that must have been 60 years old, I sat up all the way because there was too much rocking to get any rest. My tailbone was hurting by time the train pulled into the station in Vermont. Mima was there to greet me and hugged me tight when she saw me, on her face was the same smile I’d seen a decade before. But that was pretty much the only real similarity.

“Oh my, let me look at you Cassidy. You’re as pretty as your mother when she was your age. She would be so proud to see you now,” grandma said. I teared up that my mom wouldn’t be here to greet us, but a heart attack took her when I was a freshman in college. Mima was the only one left in my family since mom had died and dad had moved with my brother to Australia. I hadn’t spoken to them since the funeral, which was fine since the only one I had really spoken to even before mom had passed was my grandma. I was never a great communicator, and Mima seemed to be the only one to understand it was never personal; I just didn’t like talking on the phone, though she and I often spoke in half-hour, or longer, blocks of time.

I looked at the woman who had become my mother. There were no wrinkles to give away her age (she was only 64, since she’d had my mom fairly young), and makeup had little to do with it since she pretty much wore just a light foundation and some muted red lipstick. She had put on a little weight since last I’d seen her, but it was well distributed. And I could immediately tell my grandmother was proud of her figure.

“So, hon, what do you think? A little older, but I think I’m getting better,” she said, twirling around slowly, making sure that she stood still long enough to highlight her flank. I marveled at her generous breasts with stiffened nipples poking against a clingy t-shirt. As she faced away, I noted her shapely ass with very little “secretary spread” and taut hips with no love handles, but wide enough for any man (or woman) to hold onto. I couldn’t help but lick my lips. Grandmother or not. In my college years I’d had young men and even a few women, but none more gorgeous than my mother’s mother. I only admitted to myself in moments of weakness, but I’d more than a time or two fantasized how my mom would be in bed. Now I wondered if I could avoid wanting to get my grandma into bed, or if I even wanted to. After all, there was only us now. Mima never mentioned having a companion of either sex, and I never felt it was my place to ask. I forced back the thought, but I silently hoped there was no one enjoying her. I knew it was selfish to hope that she could be attracted to me in that way antalya travesti since I still hadn’t formulated my after-college plans, but if I was going to leave Vermont after I visited with grandma I was afraid she’d be lonely, and that longing would only be made worse if I let my fantasies fulfill themselves, or if I even mentioned them. But damn the long legs with heels that lifted her ass and contoured already shapely calves. I imagined having those muscular thighs wrapped around my head as I ate a pulsing pink pussy. I was shaken out of my stupor when Mima told me to hop into her Mazda Miata convertable. She took me the long way, over a winding road that sported lush farmland with rows of sweet corn nearly ready for harvesting on one side of the road, with groves of apple trees that would be ready for picking months after the corn. My grandma seemed lost in thought as the wind whipped her auburn hair with ample gray streaked throughout. What topped her head was the only giveaway of her age, as otherwise she looked to be in her 40s, if that. I imagined that her breasts would sag considerably once she removed her bra, but that was okay with me. Her twins were still desirable. I struggled with my prurient desires for my grandmother, but I opined that it was okay to look, as long as I didn’t touch. I bit my lip and tried to enjoy the breeze blowing against my face without thinking about touching the forbidden fruit.

We finally pulled up in front of the house I remembered from my childhood. It had a few updates and a large addition but still had the red brick facade I always found so pretty. As if she read my mind, a skill Mima seemed to have with nearly everyone, she told me that she’d had it built a couple of years ago in case one of us kids visited. “I really never expected Marvin or Henry would come back to see me, but I had a feeling you would visit,” she said, referring to my brother and dad. “So, I had a bedroom, an office and a kitchenette put into the addition.”

Her having done all that made me think I might put roots down in Vermont. I was kind of tired of suburban Philadelphia. Besides, the idea was plausible since I had an idea brewing for a coffee shop that would be paid for mostly by a generous life insurance policy mom had the foresight to take out, in combination with a small business loan for any amount left. There was no reason for me to go back to Ohio, even though the town of Collinwood, small though it was, was getting too crowded, too big-city wannabe. And everyone with whom I grew up there had either moved or gotten strung out on drugs, or died. Besides, as much as she loved winter, the lake-effect snow from Erie as getting to be too much before she left for college. Four years away wouldn’t have changed that idea.

“Mind if I ask a personal question?” Mima asked, but plowed on without waiting for an answer. I didn’t bother to answer that I, in fact, didn’t mind at all. “Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend in Pennsylvania, or anywhere else?”

“No Mima. I didn’t want any ties,” I answered somewhat wistfully. “Any particular reason you asked?”

“Oh no, no. I just can’t imagine why some studmuffin would pass up a sweet young thing like you. That beautiful young…er, um, body of yours isn’t getting’ any younger.”

“You mean my sweet young pussy?” I asked, grinning, expecting to get a rise out of her, even though granda was hardly a prude. But my attempt at sarcasm was met with an unexpected response.

“Well, that was the part of your body I was thinking of, but you have lots of goodies to enjoy,” she said, smiling lasciviously and letting her gaze sweep the length of my body. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could swear Mima was drooling. There was no hiding that she was flirting. “Come on, let’s get your bags so you can wash off the travel dust. I hope you like the way I made up your room. You can make any changes you need to. You don’t have to keep to an old lady’s taste in décor.”

“Old lady? Who you talking about, Mima. I don’t know a more youthful, more energetic woman. I’ll bet you could run circles around me.”

“That’s nice of you say, honey, but it takes a lot more work than it used to to keep this frame from falling apart. It was easy when I was your age. But then we didn’t really know how important exercise was. Only a few young studs and wannabes paid attention to Jack LaLanne. We pretty much ate what we wanted to. Your grandfather leaving me was the greatest gift he could have given to me,” she said, letting her hand sweep down her body.

I wanted to ask her if she ever used it for anything other than to tease a few people, but I thought that would be none of my business. But once again izmir travesti the apparent clairvoyance crept into my grandmother’s mind.

“I mostly exercise for myself, and to be ogled by men of all ages. It’s very rewarding. But none of them are worth my time. I have my toys to keep me occupied.”

My eyebrows arched, but I said nothing. She asked me if I was shocked. I just shook my head and grinned.

“I’m saving my body for just the right person. If he, or she never comes along, c’est la vie. I live a full life. I don’t have to worry about a 60-second man. If I make love to myself I’ll never be disappointed.”

I started to feel intrusive, so we walked into the house with my bags in tow. Mima pointed to her left, indicating my wing of the house was there. “Make yourself at home honey. I hope you’ll be here a while.”

“As long as you can stand my company, Mima, maybe longer. But I promise not to wear out my welcome.”

“Good, then you’ll be here all summer, or maybe longer. You’ll find your room quite comfortable. It has all the modern conveniences, including a customizable thermostat.,

I had noticed a storefront downtown for sale or rent, so I determined to make a few inquiries. I wondered if my grandmother wouldn’t mind baking a few things since anyone who had eaten her baked goods loved them. I didn’t want to impose on my grandma, but she seemed to want me to stay around, at least through apple harvest. Besides her famous cookies, her pies were out of this world.

I took a shower, getting the feeling I was being watched as I scrubbed the six hour rail trip from my body. “Mima?” I got no reply, thinking I was just imagining, or perhaps fantasizing, about being watched by her. I toweled off and crashed onto the bed, falling asleep the moment my head hit the plush down pillow.

When my eyes fluttered open a few hours later, the sun was setting, casting a reddish-golden hue into the bedroom. I was startled to see Mima sitting on the bed with her ever-present smile. I smiled back.

“Glad you are awake, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Though I will be the first to admit you look adorable when you’re asleep. You dreamed about something good and sweet, I hope.”

I had dreamed, but I just smiled weakly, as my dream was more akin to some of the fantasies I’d had on the drive through the town. I dreamt I was laying with grandma, both of us fondling each other. I realized there was a huge damp spot between my legs. I told Mima I would be into the kitchen shortly. I put on the tightest pair of jeans I had and a shirt that was as tight as the one grandma had worn to the station.

“Okay dearie. You go ahead and change your underwear, though it’s really not necessary. They’re mostly clean,” she laughed and walked out. I felt myself turn red before I began wondering how she knew I had gotten my panties wet. But, I thought, she was right. There shouldn’t be any untoward odor. She sort of liked the warm feeling of having cum in her pants when she dreamt of grandma, even though she swore she would never act on those fantasies. What she would do if Mima did the acting she didn’t know. She wondered if the woman wore “grannie panties” or the same clingy style she wore.

“The same kind you wear, sweetie,” came grandma’s voice from the kitchen. Cassidy, or as Mima usually knew her as, Cassie, gave up trying to figure the sweet woman.

When she waltzed into the kitchen, her grandma was dressed in a sheer cotton dress that flowed from her shoulders. The dress looked more like one purchased in a high-end boutique rather than standard off-the-rack fare. It seemed to reveal every curve on the body it was draped on, including the red under pants with no bra. She really didn’t need one. Her tits were firm and full. Cassie felt her crotch get a little wetter, and she turned beet red. She swallowed, hoping Mima hadn’t noticed.

“Oh come now, sweetheart, you’re been gawking at me ever since the station. I figured you might want to get a better look. Not to worry. I will try to behave. Emphasis on trying. No guarantees. You have some mighty fine lady bits yourself,” the lady said admiringly, and added, perhaps as an afterthought, or maybe to see what my reaction might be, “And yes, I was watching while you showered. We have no secrets in this house. You might as well get used to it.”

Then grandma pulled a chair from the table and sat on it facing the back so her legs were spread, her long and lightly tanned legs angling away from the chair legs, the stiletto heeled shoes that were a cross between sandals and pumps, except the heels had to be at least four inches. Anyone with a foot fetish would instantly cum in their pants or at least obsessively cop a feel. I was surprised that grandma could comfortably walk around the house wearing them, much less cook in the shoes.

As if right on cue, she said she doesn’t normally wear that footwear around the house, but felt like showing off. There was only one person to notice her in the kitchen, and I again blushed.

“So,” she started, “let’s play a little game. You tell me one of your secrets and I’ll tell you one of mine.”

“Hmm, lemmee see. Well, you know I love you. But what you don’t know is I thought about you often when I was at school. I sometimes couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Ditto, young lady. Remember I said there are no secrets in this house. And I’m about to reveal a big one. I hope it won’t change how you feel about me, though I doubt it will, but it’s a little bit of a dark secret that I’m sure you’re keep confidential,” she paused, waiting for acknowledgement. I told her of course what was said between us was no one else’ business. “You remember I told you when I picked you up that you were as pretty as your mom when she was your age, which I am pretty sure is 22, right?”

“Yes,” I said, swallowing, wondering what deep dark secret was about to be revealed, though I had no doubt it wasn’t a bad thing she was about to tell me.

“Your mom had started talking about finding a job with a law-firm in Bucks County

“Well, Emily was in her bedroom. I was about to tell her how much I loved her and wanted to share more than a maternal hug with her. I’d held back my lust in for a couple of years, although your grandfather had an idea, thought I was crazy and started looking at cute little hiney’s on the internet. At first it was porn, but eventually that bored him. He finally found a piece of ass who might be able to put with him, and then he was gone.

“Anyway, my love, I was chicken-shit for the longest time. I wanted to keep her here and figured the best way to do that was to tell her how much I wanted her. I know it was nutty to want to have a long-term incestuous relationship with my own daughter, but I was hoping she would stay around. The night I was about to tell her how I felt, I knocked on the door and saw her packing. She told me she’d just gotten a job with some some small firm in Doylestown. She said it was a great opportunity to get her feet in the door. I wanted to scream, and ask her why she hadn’t mentioned this before. Instead I just smiled and hugged her, telling her I was happy she found her own path. She asked me what I had come into her room for. I don’t remember exactly what I told her, but it wasn’t the truth. At that point I did not want to hold her back.

“Does that freak you out, Cassie?”

“Not at all, Mima. I spoke with mom a couple months before she died. She told me she felt much the same for you, but never said anything for fear of being rejected since she had no idea you felt that way about her. Although she did say it wouldn’t have worked out anyway since she really wanted to leave the small-town life behind. So, rather than stay in Ohio, I followed mom, attended Delaware Valley University, and the rest is history.”

“But why did you come back here, of all places?”

“I always loved it here, Mima. Quiet and quaint, and you were here. I hated being away from you for so long. And now that we’re here together, I am pretty sure I don’t want to leave. You know I saw that storefront on Main Street for sale or rent, and I thought I wanted to explore the possiblity of opening a cafe. I thought you might want to to sell some of your goodies. I’d help you set up a clean room to bake in, buy you the equipment and all.”

“Oh, baby, you really have it all thought out. And you really want to stay here? With your sweet grandma?”

“Um, I don’t want to impose on you, Mima. I can rent a room. I think I saw a vacancy above the storefront.”

“Oh no no, sweetie, no such thing as an imposition. Did you find the accommodations in your wing comfortable. If the full size bed isn’t big enough, we can get you a king size, if you like. Or you can sleep in my room.”

“But where will you sleep, grandma?” I said that teasingly, because I would never put my Mima out. But to make sure she knew I was teasing, I quickly followed up with “I’m just kidding, grandma. I’m a pretty sound sleeper, so I would love to sleep with you.”

“That’s so good to hear. Now that I have told you my deep, dark secret, I’d love you to expound on yours.”

“I have had dreams about you, Mima. Intimate dreams. Dreams that we were in bed together, unable to keep our hands off each other.”

“You mean like this,” she said, cupping my cheek with her right hand and drawing close to me. “Oh fuck, Cassie, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to touch you, to kiss you all over, especially on those sweet private parts.”

“Think we should eat dinner first?”

“Oh shit, I almost forgot. Okay, let’s have supper, then we’ll have dessert.”

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