Spying On My Grandson - Sex Stories

Spying On My Grandson

I can't believe what I am doing. I know it's wrong but the last few weeks have been driving me insane. Here I am standing by the side of the bed that your grandson is sl**ping in, so sweet and innocent looking, looking down at him, is one thing. A grandmotherly thing. Looking at him with your nightgown pulled up to your waist while your hand is between your legs, playing with yourself is quite another thing. I'm 62 years old, Barbara, she scolded herself. Not some teenager with raging hormones, like Jon there in bed. But, this all started a week ago. Jon walks around the house in his boxer or pajamas. I am use to that when my husband and son use to live home. Nothing new. Except that every time Jon would come down or walk by me I could see his shaft through the opening of his boxers. At one point I swear I saw the head of his penis sticking out of his pajamas but when I tried to get a better look I couldn't. I tried spying on his in the bathroom too. Opening the door after he finished showering pretending I didn't know he was there but no luck. Listen to me, No luck. This is my sweet grandson something sparked in me that made me into a lustful sinner. I had just come in to pull the sheet over my visiting grandson, noticing when I passed the open guest room door that he was partially uncovered, but instead I stand here and look at him. Jon had changed so much recently, Barbara mused as she looked at the son of her son, sprawled across he bed. The sheet was down to his waist, ...

... and while Barbara assumed that he was wearing something below the sheet, he had no shirt on. Jon was a slender lad, and laying there with his arms up over his Barbara could see his rib cage clearly even in the faint moonlight. Glancing up, she saw something new, a wisp of light brown hair under his arm. "Growing up, baby", I whispered under my breath. Jon was a ch!|d back then, and now he's a man, at least Physically, at about 5'4" and 125 pounds he is still young. Enough Barbara, I thought to herself. Go back to your room and go to bed, and for heavens sake get your hand out from your pussy. But it feels so good, I reasoned as my eyes went down from Jon's scrawny chest, past his rib cage to his belly button. Below the little indentation - was that hair? It was. A thin golden trail that led lower to... Don't do it, I scolded myself as I reached over and took the edge of the sheet in my hand hand. Pull the sheet up, not down. Just a peek. Curiosity killed the cat, but I wasn't going to do anything but take a peek, and so I gently lifted the fabric and lowered it. The thin row of brown hairs became darker but not thicker, not fully grown and below that was his manhood. It looked so much different then I last saw it, when I last completely saw it; it was 14 years ago, when I would help bath him. It was longer, thicker and more wrinkled. The testicles had dropped and were full. My, his penis flaccid was bigger then his grandfather's. My husband god rest in soul died before Jon was ...