The glow from the massive television screen was the only light in the sprawling living room, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to pulse in time with the soundtrack. On screen, the drama was reaching a fever pitch.
{"I Want You!!! You are meant for me!!"} the young actor growled, his voice thick with cinematic desire.
Nadia, nestled on a plush rug on the floor, let out a soft, breathy sigh. Her eyes, the color of a winter sky, were fixed on the screen, but their focus was soft, distant. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gaze drift away from the fictional passion and slide down, not for the first time, to the very real evidence of my own arousal straining against the soft gray cotton of my sweatpants. Each time she looked, a delicious blush would creep up her elegant neck, disappearing into the silver-streaked dark hair piled loosely on her head.
The actress on screen was now splayed on a velvet couch; her legs hooked over the shoulders of her fervent lover. The soundtrack swelled, a symphony of carnal need.
{"PAH! PAH! PAH!".} The sharp, rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin echoed around us, far more potent than any dialogue.
A slow, confident smile touched my lips, as I watched what basically a porn shown on the tv, the charged atmosphere in our room had long since eclipsed the one on television. I saw Nadia moods slowly changed, and I too felt the same. Slowly, deliberately, I scooted forward on the sofa, I widened my knees, settling directly behind her. She was now perfectly positioned in the vee of my legs, her back to my chest. She didn't startle. She didn't pull away. Instead, with a soft, almost imperceptible sigh of surrender, she leaned back.
Her head came to rest not against the couch cushion, but against me. The nape of her neck, warm and smelling of her expensive perfume and the faint, sweet hint of cherry compote, settled squarely, perfectly, on the hard, throbbing length of my cock. It was an unmistakable, brazen invitation. She pressed back slightly, a subtle, grinding acknowledgment, and a shiver of pure anticipation ran through me. We continued to watch the scandalous television, a far more potent reality unfolding silently between us.
Grandma Nadia, a woman whose beauty was a testament to a life lived with passion, melted into the cradle of my body. Her scent, that intoxicating mix of Russian perfume and warm, mature woman, filled my lungs.
"Mmm, this drama, it is… intense, moy mal'chik,". she murmured, her voice a low, husky vibration that I felt through my entire body. Her accent was thicker now, each word a soft, rounded stone tumbling from her lips. "So much… feelings and love,".
My eyes, heavy-lidded with desire, refocused on the screen. The male lead, his body slick with sweat, was pistoning into his lover—who, the subtitles confirmed, was indeed his character's grandmother—with a frantic, possessive rhythm. The camera lingered without shame on every detail. Which contributed more to me and Nadia felt hot and bothered.
"It's honest, and that was nice, never knew that this can be aired, though,". I corrected her, my voice a low rumble in my chest. A surge of raw, possessive heat coiled in my gut, fueled by the on-screen display and the very real, very willing woman in my arms. I leaned forward, my chin nudging aside the silken fall of her hair to press my lips against the incredibly soft skin just below her ear.
At the same time, my right hand, which had been resting on my own thigh, began a slow, deliberate journey. I slipped it under the loose, comfortable collar of her elegant house robe.
My fingers skated down the pronounced line of her sternum. Her breath hitched, a tiny, sharp inhalation that was louder to me than the television's moans.
My palm slid over the soft, yielding swell of her magnificent breast. It was a heavy, perfect weight that filled my hand completely. The skin was like warmed silk. Without hesitation, my fingers closed, kneading and fondling the generous flesh with a possessiveness that was both rough and reverent.
"Grandma, I really love you, tits… it's I can't even grab them all in my hands,". My thumb sought out and found the pebbled nub of her nipple, already hard and eager for my touch. I rolled it firmly between my thumb and forefinger.
"Akh! Sael… Hmmm~". Nadia's moan was a long, shuddering exhalation that melted into a breathy whimper. Her head lolled back fully against my shoulder, her body going pliant and soft against mine. Her breath came in hastened, shallow puffs.
"Moy sladkiy… do not hold back… this body… it can handle anything you want… anything you wish to do." The offer was whispered into the charged air, thick and promising like dark honey.
I stilled my ministrations for a moment; my lips still pressed to the frantic pulse beating at the base of her throat.
"Anything, Babushka?" I breathed the question into her skin, my voice dropping to a gravelly whisper laden with dark intention. "You would truly let me do anything I want to you?".
She turned her head, her dark, kohl-rimmed eyes, shimmering with decades of wisdom and a shocking, immediate lust, meeting mine. Her lips, still full and sensual, curved into a smile of absolute surrender.
"Da... Yes," she affirmed, her voice steady and sure despite the desire trembling through her frame.
"For you… always,". She leaned in, sealing her promise by capturing my lower lip in a brief, biting kiss that sent a jolt straight to my groin. She then returned her head to my shoulder, offering her neck once more like a sacred sacrifice.
"Good, …Lovely, Grandma…". I purred, my hand resuming its delicious work on her breast, my fingers pinching and pulling at her thumb-sized nipple, eliciting another sharp, pleasured gasp from her.
"I should confess… I love doing it rough, But, not to the very extreme, but… I am not a gentle lover, moya babushka.".
Nadia chuckled, a rich, throaty sound that vibrated through both of us. "Even if you wanted the extreme, zolotse," she murmured, her own hand coming up to caress my cheek as I littered her neck with open-mouthed kisses and gentle bites, "you could do it…. At any time, this woman is ready to please her man whenever he asks… It is my purpose, my joy… and I am ready anywhere,".
A wicked, devious thought sprang, fully formed, into my mind. I smiled against her damp skin.
"Really?… what if it is in the morning? When we are all gathered for breakfast. Cathy is sipping her coffee, Emily is complaining about her lessons, Bella is telling some animated story with her hands…"
I felt her breath catch, her body tensing just slightly with a thrill of naughty anticipation.
"…and I look at you across the table," I continued, my voice dropping to a husky, conspiratorial whisper. My hand left her breast, sliding down over the soft plane of her stomach, lower, beneath the cinched belt.
"And I want you... Right then, and there…. In front of everyone, What happened, then?"
My fingers slipped through the neat triangle of silver curls and found her core. She was soaked, her folds slick and hot and ready.
"Ssliickk~ Schlurp!!!.". The sound was soft but unmistakable as my middle finger slid through her wetness.
Nadia's back arched, a silent, shuddering gasp shaking her frame. Her hips pushed involuntarily against my hand.
"I would…" she breathed, her voice strained with need, "I would… open my robe for you, moy lyubov… I would let you take me on the table… for all to see…"
"Schluuup~ Schluuup… Sslliickk!! Sslliickk!! Sslliickk!!". My finger pushed inside her, slowly, feeling her tight, velvety heat clutch at me. She was incredibly wet, her body welcoming the invasion with a series of soft, internal flutters.
"You would let me fuck you like this?" I whispered harshly into her ear, curling my finger inside her, searching for that spot that made her lose her mind. "With everyone watching? With the pancakes getting cold?".
"Bozhe moy!Yes!" she cried out, her head thrashing against my shoulder as my thumb found her swollen clit and began making rough, eager circles. "I would scream your name! I would not care! AAHH!!!"
Her body seized, her inner muscles clamping down on my finger in a violent, sudden spasm.
"Ahhh~ Spluuurt!!!... Spluuurt!!!... Spluuurt!!!". A hot gush of her release coated my hand as her orgasm ripped through her, intense and unexpected. She shuddered violently, a series of incoherent, breathy Russian pleas falling from her lips as she rode out the waves against my hand.
I held her tightly, my own arousal a painful, throbbing ache. I slowly withdrew my slick fingers and brought them to my lips, tasting her musky, sweet essence without a hint of shame. God, that was hot, and she meant everything she said, and I loved it.