Family Affairs Pt 5 – Ginger’s Story

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Firstly a little about me; Ginger isn’t my real name, of course, it’s a sort of pet name. As you’d expect, it stems from my hair colour, not fiery red, but a rich chestnut colour. Not everyone calls me it, my father did, in fact it started with him, my husband does and some of our friends, my daughter does, as does her husband and my son, though not his wife. I gave birth to my daughter shortly before my 17 th birthday and she, much to my annoyance, had done the same with Sam, her eldest son.I keep myself in good shape; I run, swim, go to the gym and do yoga. Everything is firm and in the right place, I have a curvaceous body with a slim waist and good sized breasts, I can still turn heads in the street and I still look good in the ‘special’ outfits my husband loved me to wear for sex.So there I was on a lovely early summer’s afternoon, just a few weeks shy of 50 celebrating my Grandson’s 16 th birthday!. My husband arrived from work, gave his Grandson a manly shake of the hand, then a hug and wished him a happy birthday. Sam thanked him for the mountain bike, which he had been coveting for some time. My husband turned to me, I knew that look; bad news.‘I’m sorry love, but I have to go away on business for a few weeks, right when we had our holiday planned.’I had been looking forward to our holiday together at our second home in France, usually we were joined by family, but this year we would be on our own for once, the sex was going to be great. Now that was all out the window.‘Why don’t you go and I’ll meet you there when I’m finished. It’s not like you need to be back here for anything.’‘It won’t be the same,’ I started.‘I’ll keep you company, Gran,’ Sam piped up, ‘I can take the new mountain bike the countryside is great for it.’Everyone agreed that Sam should keep me company until my husband was free. I didn’t think it such a good idea, but my protests were dismissed ‘It’ll be fine,’ they all said. I wasn’t so sure, how was I going to keep a teenager occupied for a couple of weeks on my own. If only I had known.The next few weeks passed quickly. Finally, I said farewell to my husband and we packed the car up, the mountain bike going on the rear rack. The following morning Sam and I headed for the ferry port. The crossing was only a few hours then we hit the road; midweek, by far the best time to travel any distance in France in the summer. The kilometres flew by, Sam was very good company. We stopped for lunch then headed on, arriving in the little village early on a beautiful summer’s evening. We stopped at the home of our friends who looked after the house. After greetings and the customary aperitif or two, we were treated to a delicious meal. Then Sam and I got back in the car and headed out to the cottage. It was a couple of kilometres outside the village, in a secluded spot. The rear gardens were totally private, surrounded by hedges. Our friends had opened the house up, the pool was clean and the fridge had the essentials to start us off.We unpacked the car, sorted istanbul travesti our stuff out and went for a walk. We returned after an hour and were both ready for a good night’s sleep.The following morning I woke early. Deciding that Sam wouldn’t be up for some time, I took the opportunity to do my morning yoga naked by the pool, I loved the feeling of freedom that it brought; the cool morning air on my naked body. Finished, I took a quick swim then dried off and slipped into shorts and tee-shirt and laid out our breakfast. Sam came into the kitchen and gave me a peck on the cheek, accompanied by a ‘Morning Gran.’ I asked if he had slept well and we chatted about plans for the day over our coffee and croissants; Sam wanted to take the bike out then we’d have a lazy day by the pool.We cleared up and Sam headed out with the bike. I pottered around, tidying and making the beds. That was when things began to change. I went into Sam’s room and flipped back the covers to air the bed. The trials of having teenage boys around, sticky stains on sheets; I’d let it air and pretend not to have noticed. Hello, what was this, a girlie mag tucked under the bed. Only it was one with a difference, the models seemed to be older. The cover announced that it was filled with MILFs. I flicked through the pages with a smile on my lips, then put it back where I’d found it.Next I went to dust the desk, Sam had left his laptop there and as I moved the mouse I noticed it was not locked. I thought I’d have a quick look to see if his interest in older women stretched to downloading. I soon found a folder marked “MILFS”. Opening it there were dozens of images of mature women, some just posing, but others in more compromising positions with men and other women. There were a couple of other folders in there too, with various genres of porn, blow jobs etc. I was not shocked, porn had played a significant role in my own life and I had no problem with this. It was the folder at the end that caught my eye though, this was marked “GILF”. Intrigued, I opened it. My had shook as I scrolled through the pictures; the background was very familiar to me, it was right outside the window now and the subject of the pictures was me, that very morning, doing my naked yoga. There were a couple of dozen pictures, many showing my more intimate parts in explicit close up, you could almost count the few hairs of the little runway, just above my waxed pussy.I was furious, I left the laptop as I had found it and headed to my room. I needed to clear my head, so I slipped into my running gear and headed out the door. My mind was in turmoil. I hadn’t worried when the pictures were of other women, but now they were of me…and what about the folder title, did he mean it, did he really want to fuck me? As I pounded the lanes I began to calm down and it was then that I began to form a plan. By the time I had returned to the house, I was totally in control again and I knew how I was going to deal with this, istanbul travestileri I just wasn’t sure what the outcome would be.Sam entered the driveway just behind me and called a cheery ‘Hi Gran, how was your run?’ I replied that it had been just what I needed and enquired about the bike. ‘It’s great, thank you so much, it was just what I wanted and this is the perfect place to try it out.’I entered the house and headed to my room. I set the dressing mirror at an angle, then in to the bathroom and set up the mirror there in such a way that, with the reflection from the bedroom mirror, I would be able to see the bedroom door from the shower. If I left the doors open, you could see straight into the shower from the hallway. I told Sam that I was going to take a shower then we’d have a cool drink by the pool before lunch. He called back OK and added that he too was going to shower.I entered my room, peeled off my running gear and got into the shower, keeping a sideways eye on the mirrors. Running the shower I soaked myself and soaped my body, it wasn’t long before I caught a sign of movement in the mirrors; glancing cautiously, I could see Sam was watching round the door jamb. I ran one hand over my soapy breasts and slipped the other between my thighs, my heart was pounding in my chest as I began to play my fingers over my pussy, the fingers of my other hand teasing and tugging at my nipple, all the time watching surreptitiously in the mirrors, to see if he was still there. I began to masturbate openly for a couple of minutes, then stopped as if I had suddenly realised what I was doing. I washed the soap off and reached for the towel. When I turned again Sam was gone. I smiled to myself; things seemed to be going to plan.I headed out to the hallway and the main bathroom door was closed. I headed over and put my ear to the door I could hear the shower running, clearly accompanied by the rhythmic slap, slap of a wet hand hitting his belly as it reached the bottom of its stroke. Standing at the door I listened to my grandson masturbating, my hand involuntarily returning to my pussy. After a brief while I heard him pick up the pace, accompanied by a few grunts as he shot his cum into the shower. I counted 3 in my head and tapped the door saying, ‘Be a love and make sure you clean up after you.’ I had to suppress a little giggle.‘Uh…errr…yeah…um…OK,’ he stammered in response. I smiled to myself as I went back to my room and slipped into a little red bikini with a thong bottom and plunge top. My husband called it my sheepdog bikini, “because it rounds them up and points them in the right direction!” He was right, it gave my breasts a fabulous cleavage. I threw a sheer beach dress over it, everything visible through the flimsy fabric.As I poured the drinks, Sam entered the kitchen in a pair of swimming trunks; a fairly impressive package seemed to be nestled in the front. He asked if there was anything he could do. I could see him taking travesti istanbul in the outfit I was wearing and he flushed when I caught his eye. ‘You could put the little table out by the pool and get out the sun loungers,’ I told him.He headed off as I finished making the drinks. When I took the tray out to the pool, he had put the loungers out and we sat sipping our drinks, just chatting about nothing in particular. I said that I had forgotten to bring out the towels, as if suddenly remembering and stood to go get them. He offered to go, but I said it was no problem. As I walked into the house, I could see his reflection in the glass of the door, watching me. I smiled again, things were going just the way I had planned.Despite his sunglasses, the tilt of his head gave away the fact that he was watching me as I returned, so I leant forward to put his towel down, giving him a clear view down the front of the loose dress, then the same with my own towel, displaying my rear to him. Then I stood and peeled the dress off, and dived into the pool, swam a couple of lengths then asked if he was going to join me. ‘Uh…yeah…in a minute,’ was his embarrassed response.Hmmm, did he have another hard on? I wondered, I could think of no other reason for his lack of interest in getting into the water. After a few minutes I threw a ball at him and chided him, so he got up and dived in. We threw the ball around and generally messed around for a while then I got out and stood by the pool, drying myself. His eyes were firmly fixed on my body. It was time for phase 2.I sat on the lounger and Sam got out and sat on a chair. Picking up the suntan lotion, I began to rub the oil into my shoulders and arms, then over my tummy and the front of my legs, being sure to give him an eyeful of my butt as I bent forward. ‘You don’t mind if I go topless, do you Sam?’ I asked as I unclipped the bikini top.‘Err…n…no, that’s OK,’ he responded. I squeezed some oil into my hand and began to massage it into my breasts, enjoying the fact that he was watching me, again his sunglasses were on but I could tell that his eyes were firmly fixed on me. I put the towel on the lounger and lay on my stomach. ‘Be an angel and rub some into my back, would you?’ I asked him.He came over and picked up the bottle. Pouring some onto his hand he began to rub the lotion into my back. ‘Oooohh, that feels lovely, you should be a masseur,’ I joked ‘Would you do the backs of my legs, too?’ I enquired.He took more oil and began rubbing it into my legs, venturing upwards, his fingertips just touching the cheeks of my arse. It was evident to me that he was testing the water. ‘That’s so nice, don’t forget my bum, I wouldn’t want to burn that.’He began to stammer a response, so I cut him off saying, ‘Oh, come on, don’t be shy.’ His fingers were trembling as he began to massage the oil into my bottom and I moved a little, slightly parting my thighs. His hands were making the most of their brief period in contact with my flesh and a couple of times his fingers “slipped” into the cleft of my bottom, accompanied by a muffled apology. He finished and I thanked him, asking if he would like me to put some on him.His response was too swift, ‘Um…n…n..no, that’s Ok, I’m just going to the loo, maybe when I get back…’ He headed indoors.

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