Trimming Grandma's Hedge: Gran’s Plan For Living Well

Trimming Grandma’s Hedge

Gran’s Plan For Living Well

“It’s time you took more responsibility for things around here,” Dad said while we were eating dinner together Friday night. “You can begin tomorrow morning by taking the car to Grandma’s place. She has a hedge that needs trimming.”

“I don’t know nothing about hedges,” I said. “Anyhow, we don’t have a thing for cutting bushes.”

“Gran has all the tools. All you need to supply is yourself. She’ll show you what to do.”

“Your father is right,” Mom said. “He’s been doing it for years. Least you can do is take over every now and then. And she is family after all.”

Two against one. What hope was there? “But she’ll keep me for ages.”

“She’s only lonely,” Mom said. “You would be bringing some happiness into her life. Remember you’ll eventually get old yourself.”

“But it always takes Dad hours and hours, and he looks so exhausted when he gets back.”

“But you’re young and fit and it should be easy for you,” Dad said. “Go early while you’re fresh, and then you’ll soon be back.”

“I suppose…”

“You might even enjoy it,” Dad said, looking right into me.

It was only a twenty-minute drive to Grandma’s house. Well it wasn’t a house really, more like an apartment in a row of old people’s houses. All the way there, I tried to remember where she had a hedge. I’d been there a few times with the family, but really when I’d been there I was more interested in getting away quickly than checking for any garden. At least Dad went there often, usually sometime every weekend. He seemed keen to go, but we all found reasons not to go with him. Gran must have a very big list of things she wanted done. And she must have been waiting for me, because the door opened before I’d finished knocking.

“Come in, come in. Little Paulie said you would be early.” After all these years, Grandma still called my Dad like he was a young kid. “Did he tell you what I wanted?”

“Trimming your hedge he said, and he said you would have the tools.”

“You want a drink before we begin?”

“Not now thanks Gran, but I might get thirsty once I’ve worked a bit.”

“Well we’ll get straight into it then,” Gran said. “We usually leave our clothes on the spare chairs over there.” Gran was pointing to the four chairs around the kitchen table.

“Where’s the overalls?” I asked, searching around and seeing no sign of any protective clothing.

“No need for that,” she said waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll clean up before you go.”

Gran was by the closest chair and was busy pulling her floral dress up and over her body.

“Gran!” I cried as the dress came over her head and she was left in nothing but a beige bra and panties. At least they weren’t huge ones, like the type where the elastic comes right up to near the boobs.

“Don’t tell me a young man like yourself is too embarrassed to undress in front of his Grandma?” She had the dress completely off now and was laying it across the chair back. “I saw my Little Paulie naked since he was born, and I’m sure you will look much the same.”

“I… But… I suppose.”

Now it was even worse, if that was possible, for she stood staring at me while my shaking fingers fumbled at my belt, but eventually my trousers were down to the floor. Now I was wishing I hadn’t worn those bright red undies, they emphasised my crotch. Gran said nothing while I folded my pants on the chair back and began lifting my top up and over my head. Now I was able to face her, both us in our underwear, but one of us was not happy to be like that.

“Well we better finish undressing,” Gran said, still facing me, but with both her hands bent around her back toward the clasp on her bra strap. “If you were a gentleman, you would help me,” she muttered loudly.

“I’ll help you Gran,” I said, even though I didn’t really mean it.

“Too late. I’ve got it!” And her arms came from around her back, each hand holding one end of the bra.

I’ll admit I was imagining her boobs to be a little soft and to not point out so well, but watching her bra being unpeeled from her boobs, I hadn’t imagined how soft they would be. The nipples were pointing down, and down a long way. If she was wearing those huge granny panties, there would be space to tuck the end of her tits behind the elastic. And the boobs themselves. They were more like floppy half empty wrinkled bags.

“Two kids and a husband sucking on them, and too many years of gravity. Not pretty, are they? Old age is a terrible thing.”

I was staring too much, and picturing what I could do with tits like that when Gran said. “I’ve seen that look before. I know what men think.”

“I… I… I was thinking about how your skin didn’t seem as old as I thought.”

Gran snorted. “You were thinking how you could get your cock wrapped around a tit so you could wank your cum onto my chest.”

“Maybe,” I said softly, my face burning.

“Possibly we can do that later,” Gran said. “Anyhow, now you can do my pants. Save me bending so far with my back.”

Touching Grannies panties, what could be worse? I mean sister panties were special. Even Mom’s panties were great, but smelly old granny panties? Who knows what stinking stains might lurk inside them. Maybe even tiny black creepy crawlies scattering away when the material is brought into the light. My fault for offering to help. Now there was nothing else to do but face the unknown.

“Just squat in front and pull them down,” Gran said. “I won’t bite.”

Yet, I thought, but I’d offered and so I did as she said, squatting right in front of her and with my arms out each side of her ready to slip a finger between her skin and the elastic band.

“I won’t fart,” Gran cackled, and I made my move, fingers behind the elastic and the band pulled down to reveal her pubic hair, and that released her pubic scent in huge amounts. It might have been strong, but it wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was mighty arousing. So much, I felt my cock begin to stir. With her panties down to her ankles, Gran lifted one foot at a time to let me get her panties free.

“Give it a sniff and check I’m still healthy.”

“What you mean Gran?”

“Always where the bum hole is. Check it smells nice. If it’s off, then you know your stomach is not working right. You do check yourself, don’t you?”

“No Gran. No one told me about that.”

“Well I’m telling you now. Once a day you taste your pee and sniff your bum. Do that a while and you’ll soon come to know the state of your body. Better diagnosis than those quacks that pose as doctors.”

Never one to pass up the chance to sniff a panty, and even though it was the wrong part of the material, I followed her suggestion. “Like normal poop,” I reported.

“And the cunt bit?”

I seriously took a long sniff of the lightly stained area that had been held against her pussy. “Really nice Gran.”

“Makes your cock grow I see.” She was looking down at my bright red underpants. “Better get them off so your cock can breathe. You know fresh air is the best thing for men. Keeps their balls and cock well ventilated. Keeps their sperm strong and wriggling hard.”

“But people will see,” I said, my face still hot.

“Not here. No one comes to visit an old woman.” Gran gave a cackle that was supposed to be lighthearted, but she couldn’t mask the wanting in her words.

Better to get it over with, my undies whisked down my legs and they were on the chair in seconds.

“Well now we’re undressed, we better begin with my hedge,” Gran said. “We found the bathroom is the best place.”

“I thought it was outside, in the garden.”

“It’s right here,” Gran said, both her hands pointing to her pubic area. “I call it my hedge because as I’ve got older, the hair has got thicker and harder to trim.”

“So that’s what you want me to do.”

“Really it’s for you. It will be your lips that will get stuck with that sharp stubble when you lick my pussy.”

“I didn’t know I was licking your pussy,” I said, thinking this was not exactly the job I had been told about.

“Ever since I went through the change, my cunt hardly makes juice anymore, so you’ll need to moisten me good before you fuck me.”

“Am I going to fuck you Gran. That doesn’t seem right.” But I wouldn’t say no, I thought under my breath.

“At least three times today,” Gran said. “It’s medicinal. I need three doses of fertile cum deep inside my cunt to keep me from ageing too quick, and the procedure needs to be done at least once a week.”

“Three times,” I muttered. “Every week.” Now I knew why dad was always exhausted after he’d visited Gran.