Inheriting Grandma - Sex Stories

Inheriting Grandma

I was a bachelor, living alone, in my thirties, no wife or kids, a successful career, and finally ready to enjoy my hard earned life of comfort. Then Grandpa passed away and Grandma was not all there mentally so after a lot of pressure from my mother, it was decided Grandma should stay with me for a bit while Mom worked to find a permanent solution.

At first things were easy and normal, she moved in and Mom helped her get settled into one of my guest rooms. I would check on her every morning before work and we'd have dinner together at night. Grandma seemed like the sweet, loving old lady she always was to me. There were times where she seemed forgetful or confused and I would have to remind her where she was and that she was living with me now. She was cute, funny, and very easy going. She liked to cook us dinner and every night she would drink some wine.

Then something happened that would change our relationship forever. One morning I was getting ready for work and I found her in the kitchen already, preparing me coffee and packing a lunch. She was wearing her normal thick bathrobe but this time, as she was serving me a hot cup of coffee, the front of her robe opened. Slightly at first but more as she moved around. It was then that I noticed that my sweet little grandma, had huge, heavy, sagging breasts. Her cleavage was long and deep.

I couldn't believe my eyes. They were huge, like two massive watermelons straining against the thin fabric of her robe. I tried to ...

... act casual but inside, I was reeling. As she handed me my coffee, our eyes met for a brief moment and there was something in her gaze that made me feel... strange. I tried to regain my composure and respond normally. "Thank you, Grandma," I managed to say between deep breaths. "That's very thoughtful of you." Grandma smiled and patted my arm before turning back to the stove. "You're welcome, dear. It's the least I can do after all you've done for me."

Grandma finished preparing my lunch and went about her day as usual, but my mind was elsewhere. The image of those enormous breasts had been burned into my brain and it was all I could think about. Later that night, as we sat down to dinner, I noticed that Grandma had changed into a different outfit – one that showed off her ample cleavage even more than her bathrobe did earlier.

I couldn't help but stare at her chest as she served me my food. She caught me looking once again and smiled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Is something wrong, dear?" she asked innocently.

"N-no, Grandma," I stammered, trying to pull my gaze away from her cleavage. "Everything's fine."

For the rest of the dinner, we made small talk and enjoyed each other's company like nothing was out of the ordinary. But inside, I was a mess. My thoughts were consumed with images of my grandma's massive breasts and the strange feeling they invoked in me.

Throughout the meal, I struggled to focus on anything other than the sway of her breasts ...