My name is Mahak, and I come from a small family—just me, Mom, and Dad. Both my parents work long hours, leaving me to my own devices most of the time. People always say I’m cute and beautiful, with my long, thick hair and delicate 32-25-32 figure that turns heads wherever I go. At 5’1”, I was 19 years old when this steamy, unforgettable story began. We lived in a quiet apartment complex, where life was simple and predictable—until one day, everything changed.
A new family moved into the empty flat next door. It was a couple with their elderly father, whom I started calling Grandpa. Over time, our families grew close, exchanging pleasantries and small talk as neighbors do. The couple, whom I called Uncle and Aunty, were busy with their jobs, but Grandpa, a retired 61-year-old, was always around. At 5’8”, he had a strong, muscular build that made him look closer to 50. His piercing eyes had a strange, magnetic glint that drew me in from the moment we met. Uncle once mentioned that Grandpa’s wife had passed away 12 years ago, and their daughter was married and settled in the US. Grandpa had moved in with them, and his commanding presence filled the room whenever he was around.
Within two months, our families became thick as thieves. Mom and Dad called him Uncle, but I stuck with Grandpa—it felt natural. One rainy afternoon, I was at the city bus stop after school, waiting for my ride home. Grandpa was there too, standing tall despite the drizzle. The sky was gray, and a light mist hung in the air, making everything feel heavy and intimate. We boarded the bus together, chatting casually as we headed toward our complex. By the time we got off, the rain had turned into a downpour. Neither of us had an umbrella, so we started walking, our clothes clinging to our bodies as the rain soaked us through.
The bus stop was a 10-minute walk from home, but the rain was relentless. Grandpa glanced at me, his voice calm but firm. “Mahak, let’s take shelter under that big tree until it slows down.” I nodded, and we huddled beneath the sprawling branches, the rain drumming around us. By then, we were drenched. My school uniform—a white shirt and gray skirt—was plastered to my skin. My shirt had turned see-through, revealing the outline of my bra and the shape of my perky breasts. My skirt clung to my thighs, accentuating every curve of my body. I caught Grandpa’s eyes lingering on my chest, a hungry spark in his gaze. He tried to make small talk, but his eyes kept drifting to my cleavage, tracing the lines of my soaked figure.
A strange thrill ran through me. At 19, I’d only read about desire in books or heard whispers of it in stories, but this was different—raw, real, and electrifying. My heart raced, and I felt a tingling warmth between my legs. I pretended not to notice his stares, but deep down, I liked it. After 15 minutes, the rain eased, and we continued home. Grandpa’s sidelong glances didn’t stop, his eyes devouring my wet body. I played innocent, but the attention was intoxicating, stirring something new inside me.
Back home, I changed out of my wet clothes, but I couldn’t shake Grandpa’s image from my mind—his piercing eyes, that sly smile, the way he looked at me. I forgot he was 61 and I was barely 19. That night, I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts consumed by him.
That evening, I went to the rooftop to clear my head after finishing my homework. The air was cool, and the sky was darkening, casting the terrace in shadows. I spotted Grandpa sitting alone on a bench in the corner, his silhouette strong and imposing. My pulse quickened as I approached and sat beside him. I’d chosen a long skirt and a low-cut V-neck top that showed just a hint of cleavage. Grandpa’s eyes flicked to my chest, lingering longer than they should have. We chatted about random things, but his gaze kept wandering, and I felt that same electric thrill again. I played coy, but his attention was making my body hum with excitement.
He gave me a slow, knowing smile, and I returned a shy one. “Mom and Dad will be home soon,” I said softly, standing to leave. “I should head back.” As I walked away, I could feel his eyes burning into me, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
Later that night, around 9 p.m., Mom and Dad were home—Mom in the kitchen, Dad on his laptop. I was sprawled on the couch, half-watching TV, when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Grandpa standing there, his presence filling the doorway. My heart skipped a beat. Dad greeted him warmly, inviting him to sit on the couch—right next to me. As Mom went to make tea, Grandpa’s hand brushed my thigh, resting there lightly. He kept talking to Dad, his voice steady, but his fingers began to stroke my thigh, slow and deliberate. I froze, my breath catching, but I didn’t pull away. The sensation was thrilling, forbidden.
His hand slid higher, slipping under my top to caress my bare back. My skin tingled under his touch, a mix of nervousness and arousal flooding me. I stayed silent, pretending to focus on the TV, but my body was alive with sensation. Grandpa seamlessly shifted the conversation to my studies.
“How’s Mahak doing in 11th grade?” he asked Dad, his hand still tracing circles on my back. “Do you help her with her schoolwork?”
Dad sighed. “Work’s been hectic. I haven’t had time to guide her properly.”
Grandpa’s voice was smooth, almost too casual. “Work’s important, but so is your daughter’s education. You’ve got to make time.”
Dad nodded, looking thoughtful. “You’re right. If it’s not too much trouble, could you help Mahak with her studies? If you have the time, that is.”
Grandpa’s eyes gleamed as he glanced at me, a subtle wink hidden in his expression. “Trouble? Not at all. I’m free most afternoons, just wasting time. It’ll keep me busy.” I gave a small smile, my cheeks flushing as I looked back at the TV.
Mom returned with tea, and Grandpa smoothly withdrew his hand, acting as if nothing had happened. “It won’t be any trouble,” he assured Mom. “In fact, I’d enjoy it.”
Mom looked relieved. “Mahak’s alone at home a lot, and I worry. Knowing she’s with you will put my mind at ease.”
“Exactly,” Grandpa said, his tone warm but laced with something darker. “Mahak can come to my place after school. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.” He shot me another quick glance, and my stomach fluttered.
Dad turned to me. “Mahak, starting tomorrow, go to Grandpa’s place after lunch to study.”
“Yes, Dad,” I replied softly, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me.
After tea, Mom disappeared back into the kitchen. Grandpa’s hand found its way under my top again, stroking my back. He even tried to slide his fingers under my skirt, but it was too tight, so he settled for caressing my thigh, his touch bolder now. I didn’t stop him—part of me didn’t want to. A few minutes later, he stood, giving me a lingering smile. “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow, Mahak,” he said, his voice low and promising. As he left, I felt a rush of anticipation that kept me tossing and turning all night, thinking about what tomorrow might bring.
The next morning, I got ready for school, my mind racing. Mom reminded me about studying with Grandpa as I headed out. School dragged on, my thoughts consumed by him—his strong hands, his confident smirk, the way he made me feel. After school, I rushed home, ate lunch, and changed into a tight top and skirt that hugged my figure perfectly. My curves were on full display, and I knew it. Checking my reflection, I felt a surge of confidence—and desire.
I rang Grandpa’s doorbell, my heart pounding. He answered wearing only a T-shirt and loose pajamas, his broad chest and muscular arms making my mouth go dry. His eyes sparkled with that same hungry glint. “Come in, sweetheart,” he said, his voice warm but dripping with intent. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I stepped inside, and he closed the door behind me. I settled on the couch, placing my books on the table, trying to act normal. He handed me a glass of juice and sat close—too close. As I sipped the juice, he asked about my studies, his hand resting on my thigh, stroking lightly. My pulse raced, but I kept my eyes on the glass, letting him continue. His other hand slipped under my top, grazing my bare back, sending shivers through me.
“Does this bother you, Mahak?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “Me touching you like this?”
I shook my head, giving him a shy smile. “No, Grandpa.”
His eyes darkened with approval, and he leaned in, kissing my hand softly. “We’re not safe here,” he murmured. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
My heart pounded as he took my hand and led me to his room. The air felt thick with tension as we sat on the bed. “We can talk more comfortably here,” he said, his left arm around my shoulder, his right hand brushing my left breast. I grabbed his hand but didn’t push it away, my body betraying my curiosity. He began to knead my breast gently, and I closed my eyes, a soft moan escaping my lips. Heat pooled between my legs, my body responding to his touch.
“How’s it feel, Mahak?” he whispered, his fingers teasing my nipple through my top.
“It feels… good, Grandpa,” I breathed, my voice trembling with arousal.
His fingers worked the buttons of my top, slipping it off my shoulders. My bra was next, and soon my bare breasts were exposed to his hungry gaze. His eyes lit up with lust as he cupped them, his thumbs circling my nipples. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Mahak,” he growled, leaning down to suck one nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, teasing and tugging, while his hand massaged the other. I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer.
He pushed my skirt up, his fingers brushing my pussy through my panties. I was already soaking wet, and he groaned when he felt it. “So wet for me,” he muttered, slipping his hand inside my panties to stroke my slick folds. My hips bucked involuntarily, a moan spilling from my lips as his fingers circled my clit, sending sparks through my body.
“Grandpa… is this… wrong?” I asked, my voice shaky, though my body screamed for more.
“Wrong?” he chuckled, his finger dipping inside my tight pussy. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I moaned louder as he pumped his finger in and out, my juices coating his hand.
He pulled my panties down, exposing my dripping pussy. His eyes devoured me as he spread my legs, his fingers teasing my entrance. “Such a pretty little cunt,” he said, leaning down to lick my clit. His tongue was relentless, flicking and sucking, driving me wild. I writhed beneath him, my hands tangling in his hair, moaning his name. “Grandpa… oh fuck… don’t stop…”
After what felt like an eternity of pleasure, he stood and dropped his pajamas. His cock sprang free—thick, long, and rock-hard, pulsing with need. I gasped, my eyes wide. “Grandpa… it’s so big…” I whispered, shocked that a man his age could have such a massive, virile dick.
He grinned, stroking himself. “Still got it, sweetheart. Want to touch it?” He guided my hand to his shaft, and I wrapped my fingers around it, feeling its heat and hardness. I stroked him slowly, marveling at its size, my pussy throbbing with anticipation. His groans spurred me on, and I jerked him faster, loving the power I had over him.
He pushed me back onto the bed, spreading my legs wide. His tongue returned to my pussy, lapping at my juices, making me scream with pleasure. “You taste so fucking good,” he growled, his fingers plunging into me, stretching my tight hole. I was lost in sensation, my body trembling as I neared climax.
“Ready for me, Mahak?” he asked, positioning his cock at my entrance. I nodded, biting my lip. He pushed in slowly, his thick head stretching me. It hurt at first, but the pain quickly melted into pleasure as he filled me completely. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, starting to thrust.
His cock slid in and out, each stroke hitting deeper, making my tits bounce with every thrust. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, my nails digging into his back. “Harder, Grandpa… fuck me harder!” I screamed, lost in the ecstasy of his pounding cock. He obliged, slamming into me with a ferocity that made the bed creak. My pussy clenched around him, my orgasms crashing over me in waves as I came again, and again, my juices dripping down my thighs.
“You’re such a dirty little slut for me,” he panted, his thrusts growing erratic. “Take my cock, Mahak… take it all!” His words pushed me over the edge again, and I screamed his name as another climax ripped through me. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep, his hot cum flooding my pussy. The sensation triggered yet another orgasm, and I clung to each other, our bodies trembling with the aftershocks.
We collapsed on the bed, panting and sweaty. Grandpa pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “You made me feel young again, Mahak,” he said, his voice soft but satisfied. I smiled, resting my head on his chest, savoring the warmth of his body.
We dressed quietly, and I gathered my books, my legs still shaky from the intensity. As I left his apartment, I knew this was only the beginning—but that’s a story for another time.