Night Rock 'n' Roll

It was a quiet summer evening. Alexey stood by the window and smoked. He had long grown accustomed to the emptiness in the apartment. And essentially, he had nothing to do at home, but there was nothing to sleep on in his office. He only returned here for the bed. And for his own grandmother. She came to him. Not often, maybe once a month. She came each time in the evening, without calling. She would simply sit in the armchair, as if they had seen each other an hour ago. Sometimes they talked until morning. Sometimes they were silent, sipping tea and glancing at each other. Albina didn't cut her hair, so as not to follow fashion; at the same time, she styled it so tightly, as if afraid someone might suspect she was a woman. Alexey laughed:

 — You

look like Tenville.

She didn't know who that was, and even got a little angry, suspecting a trick. Alexey knew she would come today. He felt it. Once she asked:

 — Do you remember, you know, your ex-wife?

 — No. I don't remember.

It so happened that the very beginning of their marriage passed without love play, without mischief and excess, and most importantly, without that sinful power that provides the soul with primitive satiety. Over time, he grew tired of this half-starved love ration. At first, he tried to spare his wife's pride, but then there was a terrible scene, with confessions, claims, dissatisfaction, brutal honesty, sorting things out, mutual reproaches, tears, a door slamming loudly, a court, and a stamp in his passport, signifying that he was free from now on, like a bird in flight. And she also asked:

 — How do you manage without a woman? Do you bring anyone here? — She looked around. — Doesn't look like it. Do you jerk off, or what? — She asked just like that, even caringly.

 — Yeah, I jerk off. I jerk off, Grandma. So what? — She looked into his eyes. Bit her lip. And swiftly left…

Alexey was not surprised when the door suddenly opened. Albina slowly approached him and stood there, her worn-out, down-at-heel shoes creaking faintly. For a moment, he saw her with a lover's eyes and understood that he knew everything in advance. Probably, Albina would be submissive and touching. She wouldn't have the triumphant eyes of a victor. She wouldn't ask him about work or about tomorrow. Of course, she would be ashamed of her full body and the ridiculous combination.

 — You smoke a lot.

 — And I jerk off a lot.

Albina stood next to him by the window, scratching the cracked putty of the windowsill. Alexey looked at her from under his brows. She couldn't bear his gaze, turned away. Opened the window. The curtains swirled, the revived papers on the table fluttered like birds. A breeze stirred a strand of hair above her ear.

 — You understand everything, don't you. Yes, Grandma?

 — Yes.

Both fell silent. They knew what would come next. They just didn't know how or where to start.

 — What are you thinking about, Lyosha?

 — You know yourself.

She took her grandson's hand, and her breath touched his face. Her figure was round and firm, the dress swayed on her chest.

 — How do you imagine our… our relationship?

 — I'll undress now, Lyosha, and lie down in bed. Then you'll undress and also lie down in bed…

Without waiting for his reaction, Albina began to undress… In bed, they whispered—silly, confused words with which lovers feel each other out, like blind people.

 — And I also want you to swear, swear dirty, understand me?

 — Of course, Lyosha. Don't be shy, don't. What else? Tell me everything frankly. I'll understand… Why are you silent?… Okay, I'll do it myself. You want to see me pee? Yes?

 — Yes.

 — Quiet, Lyoshenka, it's okay. Well, we agreed… What else?

 — See you poop.

 — Okay, and what else? See me jerk off? Of course, Lyosha.

 — How you… you know… with another woman…

 — Only with Mila. And no one else. Remember Mila?

 — I remember, of course. Childhood friend. And you with her?… long ago? how? where?

 — Long ago, long ago. At home, in the woods, on vacation in Pitsunda.

With her cheek, she felt his slow, like two dark winds, breathing. And suddenly, as if on command, they kissed at the same time, so fiercely and hotly, as perhaps never before in their lives. No, there wasn't yet an exact definition for her feelings. It was a derivative of adoration and submission.

 — Put your hand on my chest… Hear, hear how the heart beats? — she laughed softly, her face wrinkling with a slightly shy smile.

The grandson's hand lies on her chest, and Albina blissfully closes her eyes, and she wants this minute to last forever.

 — Come on, let's fuck, Lyoshenka?

She was like pliable clay, and he didn't want to, simply had no right to reject this.

 — How should I ask?

 — Fuck me, you bitch, shove your cock in this hole. Come on, I'll help. Like this. Oh, your cock is in my pussy… — How pleasant it is to yield to one's impulses!

 — Stick your finger in my ass!

 — Yes, my master…

Frenzy, tenderness, sweet pain. She loved him more than herself and could, it seemed, give her life for him.

 — How well you fuck me, Lyoshenka! /light hot whisper/ Do you like my titties? /there it is, true happiness! / And my little ass? Well, stroke it, stroke it! /oh! bliss! / Your. Cock. In my. Pussy. /heart broke loose, breathing rhythm lost, how fingers tremble/

She immediately caught how her grandson reacted to the word "pussy." He likes that word from her lips. Sweet, beloved, good!

 — This is your p u s s y! Only yours, Lyoshenka! Do whatever you want with it. I don't want you to leave my p u s s y. My p u s s y loves your cock. See how wet it is. Does your cock feel good in this p u s s y? Listen to how it sounds: p u s s y… p u s s y… Feel my p u s s y, grab my p u s s y, make it feel sweet, make it hurt!

They smiled at each other—dazzled, touched, happy, grateful. Now everything belonged to them—would they ever feel this intensity, strength, tenderness, love again? Who knows… They kissed uncontrollably, minutes flowed after minutes, and there was no strength to tear away from each other. Everything was filled with passion, some still unknown, even strange pleasure. His small cock sometimes slipped out of that huge slot, and then Albina immediately felt the absence of something vitally important within her, something without which she could not live a day from now on. She didn't want to think about it, caringly returned the cock back, and again plunged into the whirlpool of sweet madness. She wanted to whisper tendernesses, and necessarily with an admixture of rough animal words, seeing no humiliation or embarrassment in it for herself—just as h e liked it.

 — Is my little cock warm in the p u s s y?

His lips gently touched her temple, hair, cheeks, neck, shoulders, nipples, as if placing pauses between her phrases. Albina breathed intermittently beneath him, pressing him with that movement with which a woman draws only a child to herself. She was a submissive slave to that wondrous desire for love known only to old age. He is her master, she is his property; everything in this connection in no way corresponded to moral and aesthetic norms, but she didn't care. For the first time in her life, she enjoyed this terrible happiness—making love with her grandson, giving him all of herself. And the consequences did not frighten her. Come what may. Now this little cock is swimming in her flesh, these lips are kissing her breasts, these hands are stroking her thighs, and she is happy. Alexey came inside her, but the cock did not leave the pussy. They held hands, whispered, and at times Albina was seized by a strange and pleasant sensation, as if next to her—was her school friend, they were both eleven, they were at a pioneer camp and whispering about counselors and boys. That's how it once was with Mila. They lay side by side, chatted about something, and suddenly… accidentally… inadvertently… Albina's hand touched her tiny breasts. They burst out laughing.

 — Hey, Alka, let's…

 — Let's, Mil…

 — Oh, ticklish…

 — And here?

 — What are you doing, Mil? That's the pee-pee…

 — Come on, Alka, we're just pretending… — And her hand under the panties… — Quiet, you're laughing like a horse… Imagine I'm Oleg… And do you know what adults call a pee-pee?..

 — I know. Pussy…

 — That's for aunties, and for uncles—cock…

Then playful squeezes, playful imitation of sexual intercourse, and then… Five minutes of silence… Because it suddenly became really pleasant… Albina smiled and saw that Alexey was also smiling at something. Apparently, some memories came to his mind too. There, in her flesh, his cock hardened, and they again continued the interrupted suite, pressing closer and closer to each other, enveloped in shared warmth, happy as in a fairy tale. She stuck her finger in his anus, he in hers, they tortured themselves for a long time with moans, then pulled out their fingers, smeared with shit, licked them, then kissed fiercely. If only this night would never end! Sometimes he squeezed her thighs or breasts with such inhuman force that she almost lost consciousness from pain. But it was sweet pain. And she asked him to hit her. Harder, even harder! Alexey hit her in the face, slapped her cheeks, breasts. Happiness overwhelmed her. She was ready to do anything for her grandson that he wished. Would he want to kick her, shove his arm up to the elbow into her pussy, use her as a toilet—she cared little, as long as it brought h i m joy. Oh, what a strong orgasm! Unclasping their embrace, they barely breathed, wet, sweaty, exhausted, but still not sated with passion. Albina wiped his body with a crumpled sheet, they lay silently for a while longer, and then slowly freed themselves from the captivity of bliss, as one comes to after a long faint. Albina could hear not only the beating of her own blood but could now lift her eyelids. Alexey inhaled her scent, a familiar scent, so closely linked in his memories with meadow greenery, fresh grass, an empty attic room, with his grandmother's panties hanging on the laundry line.

 — When you were washing the floor… remember… at the dacha? You already wanted me to see your ass then…

 — I did. Yes.

 — I almost went crazy then… And remember the time when your panties went missing?

 — You?

 — Me.

 — Jerked off?

 — Yes… Thought, well, in these panties, Grandma walked. They were white. With a yellow stain, from piss. Kissed them, smelled them. Peeked at you when you peed in the outhouse. There was a hole in the wall there… I think you jerked off there…

 — No, not once. Honestly.

 — You were humming a little tune. Tam-tara-tam-tam-tam…

 — Probably… And did you see me poop?

 — Didn't see. Although… No, definitely didn't see… Saw you pee. Took off your panties and peed.

 — I didn't take them off. I just pulled them down. Doo-own to here…

 — I so wanted to touch you… Hug you… Touch your ass, kiss it…

 — Here?..

She turned her face to her grandson, with a sly, light smile, incredibly beautified, as if illuminated from within by wondrous excitement.

 — A little lower… Oh, how it smells here! I'll never forget your panties… Those panties… I kept them for a long time… Got rid of them, fool, so Sveta wouldn't see them…

 — And these? Do you like them?

 — I like them… They smell of you…

 — They're yours… What will you do with them?

 — Wear them… Or put them in front of me… and jerk off, jerk off… jerk off… After all, they hugged your ass… your pussy…

 — Silly… I'm always nearby. Why jerk off if I'm nearby? And do you want us to jerk off together?

Her hand reached for her grandson's cock. She caressed it with both hands, teased it, fingering the densely vegetated scrotum and stroking the head of his penis.

 — My sweetie.

She licked the shaft, leisurely licking off the viscous, sticky drops. Then, moving her fist up and down a little, finally, she took the member trembling with languor into the cavity of her mouth.

 — Now I'll do it myself…

Alexey gripped his cock with his fingers.

 — Look…

 — Do you jerk off often?