Indian Caliente

It served a purpose as a conversation starter and allows me to keep a little bit of my former identity.My grandson, Brian, visits me frequently and knows his way around the home. Today he thoughtfully brought me a hot cup of coffee. I always enjoyed Brian’s visits, but I often wondered why his wife rarely came with him. I understand that my two grandkids didn’t have much interest in visiting me. Our relationship was much better when I was younger, so were they. As teenagers, there are too many things they would rather do than sit and talk to a really, really old man.Brian pulled up a chair and sat down. He looked like hell, eyes red, uncombed hair, he must have slept in the clothes he was wearing, more than two nights.“Jesus Christ Brian, what the hell happened to you? You look like the dogs drug you in here.”“Gramps, I really need somebody to talk to. I don’t know anybody else who has the wisdom and experience that I would trust to steer me right.”“Well, Bub, you’re putting a lot of. I did it roughly so that he would understand how she should be treated.“If you hold back, she won’t feel appreciated.”He stepped forward. I tucked my slick cock back into my pants. She looked up at him and licked her lips and opened her lipstick-smeared mouth. He took out his cock. It was thicker and heavier than mine. I felt a pang as she stretched her lips around it. A sort of lustful jealous pride. She was so delicious that of course this man would want her, and of course I was proud that she was mine, and of course I cherished her lustfulness and her abandon that could only ever be truly and fully seen when crossing a boundary, because otherwise what are you abandoning, and of course in expressing that abandon she must leave control of herself and of me and give it to someone else whom neither of us control. I needed to see him make a thorough debauchery of her.She didn’t look at me. She looked up at him. She goaded him with her eyes and her moans as she worked to take him into.
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