Holidays with grandpa

I’ve been my father’s secret since I turned fourteen.

It started with a hug that lasted too long. His hand sliding down my back, my hips pressing against his lap. I didn’t understand why it felt good, why my legs trembled when he held me. But Mom noticed. She told me, with a soft smile, that it was normal for a father to love his daughter that way—to teach her what men want, to show her how to be a woman. She said it was our family’s tradition, passed down from her own father, though she wouldn’t elaborate.

The first time Dad fucked me, I was scared. He laid me on their bed, spread my legs, and told me to breathe. He was gentle at first—licking me until I came, pushing his fingers inside until I begged for more. Then he pressed his cock against my virgin hole, and I screamed. But he held me, whispered how beautiful I was, how this was love. By the second time, I was arching into it. By the third, I was the one crawling into his bed at night.

Mom knew. Sometimes she watched from the doorway, a glass of wine in her hand. She said she was proud I made him happy.

Now I’m sixteen. Every night for two years, I’ve fallen asleep with Dad’s dick inside me—spooning, his arm around my waist, his breath warm on my neck. That’s how I’ve learned to sleep. That’s the only way I can sleep.

So when Mom told me they had a conference and I had to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for the holiday, I panicked. I begged to come along, but they couldn’t take me. Mom packed my bag with my favorite vibrator—a thick rabbit I’d named after Dad—and promised I’d be fine. She kissed my forehead and said Grandpa would take good care of me.

She had no idea how right she was.

---

The first three nights were torture. I called Dad every night, my voice hushed under the covers, my fingers sliding through my wet folds as I listened to him describe exactly what he’d do to me when he got back. He’d tell me to spread my legs, to press the vibrator deep, to imagine it was his cock filling me. I came—hard—but it wasn’t enough. My body craved the weight of a man on top of me, the smell of sweat and skin, the ache of being stretched.

The vibrator died on the fourth night. I shook it, cursed, threw it across the room. The battery compartment rattled. I lay in the dark, my cunt throbbing, every nerve screaming for contact. I touched myself until my fingers cramped, but the orgasms were dull and empty. I tossed and turned until the sheets were a damp knot around my legs.

That’s when I started paying attention to Grandpa.

He was a quiet man—broad-shouldered, silver-haired, with thick hands that he used to whittle wood on the porch. He smelled like old spice and coffee. Every night after dinner, he’d settle into his recliner in the living room, the TV murmuring, and he’d doze off with a blanket over his lap.

I started wearing my thinnest shorts—the ones that hugged my ass and showed the outline of my pussy if you looked close enough. I’d brush against him when I walked by, sit on the arm of his chair, let my hair drag across his cheek. He’d pat my knee, call me darlin’, and I’d feel a small thrill.

On the sixth night, I couldn’t hold back anymore. Grandma was visiting her sister for the week—and I got bold. so bold.I was aching so badly I thought I’d scream. I slipped out of bed, my tank top barely covering my nipples, no panties underneath. The house was dark except for the TV’s blue glow. Grandpa was half-asleep, his head tilted back, his hand resting on his stomach.

I walked over slowly, my heart hammering. “Can’t sleep,” I whispered.

He blinked up at me, his eyes soft. “Bad dreams, sweetheart?”

“Kind of. Can I sit with you?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I climbed onto his lap, straddling one thigh, my bare cunt pressing against the denim of his jeans.

He shifted, startled, but his hand automatically landed on my hip to steady me. “Easy there. You’ll knock me over.”

“Sorry, Grandpa.” I didnt move. I settled in, my weight sinking onto his thigh, and I felt it—a familiar pressure, a growing warmth. I started to wiggle.

Small circles at first, just enough to let my wetness soak through. His breath caught. His hand tightened on my hip.

“You’re restless tonight,” he said, his voice rougher than before.

“Yeah.” I wiggled harder, grinding against his muscular thigh. My clit rubbed against the seam of his jeans, and a spark of pleasure shot through me. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. “I just need to move. I can’t help it.”

He didn’t stop me. His thumb stroked my side, slipping under my tank top to touch bare skin. I arched into his hand, and I felt it—the unmistakable swell of his cock against my inner thigh. Hard. Thick. Waiting.

I shifted my weight onto his other leg, letting my shorts ride up, pressing my exposed pussy directly against the bulge in his jeans. I looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “Grandpa… do you ever think about me? When you’re alone at night?”

He didn’t answer. But his other hand slid down, cupping my ass, pulling me closer. I could feel every inch of his erection through the denim. My cunt clenched, dripping, desperate for something to fill it.

“What would your parents say?” he breathed.

“They dont own me,” I whispered back, leaning in until my lips brushed his ear. “And Mom says family takes care of each other.”

I reached down, fumbled with his belt, and freed his cock. It sprang out hot and thick, the head slick with precum. I wrapped my fingers around it, stroking slowly, and he groaned—a sound so raw it made my thighs tremble.

“I need this,” I said, lifting my hips, positioning the tip of his cock at my entrance. I was so wet it dripped down his shaft. “Please, Grandpa. Fuck me.”

He didn’t speak. He grabbed my hips, yanked me down, and I impaled myself on him in one long, molten thrust.

I cried out, my head falling back as he filled me deeper than I’d ever been. He was bigger than Dad—thicker, somehow fuller. My walls stretched around him, gripping tight, and he began to thrust upward, his hands bruising my hips, his breath ragged.

He grunted, “ride me, sweetheart.”

And I did. I rode him on that old recliner, my pussy clenching around his cock, his finger in my asshole, until the lonely ache inside me finally, finally shut the fuck up.

After I came on his cock in that recliner, shuddering and gasping against his chest, Grandpa didn't let me go. He held me there, still buried inside me, his breathing ragged and uneven. My pussy kept clenching around him.

“Child,” he muttered, his voice thick with wonder. “You’re something else.”

I nuzzled into his neck, tasting salt on his skin. “I’m not done yet.”

He grunted a laugh. “Me neither. But let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.”

He lifted me off him with a wet pop, his cock slick and glistening in the TV light. I whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but he took my hand and led me down the hall to his and Grandma’s bedroom. His cock was full attention ad he hadn't cum yet.

The bed was old and creaky, covered in a quilt Grandma had stitched herself. Grandpa sat me on the edge, then went to his dresser. I watched him pull out a small foil square from the top drawer. A condom.

My stomach twisted.

He rolled it on, his movements practiced and slow, and then climbed onto the bed beside me. He pushed me onto my back, spread my legs, and lowered his head between them.

“Let me taste you first,” he said, and his mouth was on me.

His tongue was rougher than Dad’s, less refined, but that made it better. He licked my clit in broad, flat strokes, then sucked it between his lips until I was writhing. I grabbed his silver hair and held him there, grinding against his face. He groaned into my pussy, the vibrations sending sparks up my spine.

Then he shifted, pulling me up. “Your turn.”

I knew what he wanted. I crawled down his body, my lips wrapping around his sheathed cock. The taste of latex was bitter, chemical, but I sucked him anyway, bobbing my head, using my tongue to trace the ridges of his shaft. He groaned, his hand fisting in my hair.

“That’s it, darlin’. Just like that.”

I worked him until his hips started bucking, then pulled away. He was panting, his eyes dark with need. He flipped me onto my back again, lifted my legs over his shoulders, and pressed the condom-covered head of his cock against my entrance.

He pushed in—slow, deliberate, filling me inch by inch. I moaned, but something was missing. The friction wasn’t right. The heat wasn’t there. It felt like fucking through a rubber glove.

He thrust a few times, his pace steady, his hands gripping my hips. I let him, waiting, feeling the emptiness of it. Then I spoke.

“Grandpa… stop.”

He froze. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No.” I reached down and pushed against his chest until he pulled out. I sat up, looking him in the eye. “I don’t want the condom.”

His brow furrowed. “But—safety, sweetheart. Pregnancy, disease.”

“I’m on the pill. And I’m clean. Dad makes sure we get tested every six months.” I said it flatly, like it was nothing. Like confessing that my father fucked me was as normal as telling someone what I had for breakfast.

Grandpa stared at me. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

“Dad?” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

I nodded. “Since I was fourteen. Mom knows. She encouraged it.” I met his gaze, unflinching. “I’ve never had a condom in my life. I like it flesh to flesh. I need to feel the skin, the wetness, the heat. That’s how I know it’s real.”

His jaw tightened. A muscle ticked in his cheek. For a moment, I thought he was going to stop entirely, to push me away, to call me sick.

Then I saw it—the flicker in his eyes. The hunger sharpening, darkening.

“My son,” he said slowly, “broke you in.”

“Yes.”

“He taught you everything.”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re sitting on my bed, asking me to fuck you raw.”

I spread my legs wider, showing him my soaking wet cunt, my pink folds glistening. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. I want to feel your bare cock sliding inside me. I want you to cum in my pussy. I addicted to cock.”

He let out a shaky breath. Then he reached down, grabbed the base of the condom, and peeled it off. It landed on the floor with a soft thud.

His cock was still hard, glistening with lube and my juice. He knelt between my legs, his eyes locked on my face. He didn’t say another word.

He guided the bare head to my entrance and pushed.

The difference was immediate, electric. The ridge of his cock, the velvety texture of his skin, the heat radiating off him—it all hit me at once. I gasped, my back arching, my hands fisting the quilt. He slid deeper, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice rough. “You feel… so goddamn good.”

“I know,” I breathed. “Now fuck me.”

He did. Hard and deep and relentless. He grabbed my hips and drove into me, the bedsprings squeaking in rhythm. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. His balls slapped against my ass with every thrust.

I came first—a sharp, sudden orgasm that tore through me, making me cry out. He kept going, chasing his own release. I could feel him swelling inside me, his rhythm faltering.

“Where?” he grunted. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” I said, my voice ragged. “Fill me up.”

He thrust three more times, then buried himself deep and let go. I felt his cum pulse against my inner walls, hot and thick, flooding me. He groaned low and long, collapsing onto me, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

We lay there, tangled and sweaty, his softening cock still nestled inside me. I stroked his back, my fingers tracing the lines of his spine.

“Does this make me terrible?” he asked quietly.

I smiled in the dark. “No. It makes you family.”

He kissed my forehead, then pulled out slowly. A trickle of his cum leaked onto the quilt. I didn’t care.

“You’re not going to tell anyone?” he asked.

“Who would I tell?” I snuggled into his side. “They don’t have to know.”

He let out a long breath, his arm tightening around my shoulders.

I closed my eyes, feeling the sticky wetness between my thighs, the soreness in my cunt. For the first time since I arrived, I felt settled. The ache was gone. The loneliness had faded.

This holiday was going to be much more bearable after all.