Grandma and the Dust Bunnies

Have you ever had your parents make you do something that you really didn't want to do? I'm not talking about the normal things they make you do, such as clean your room or take out the trash. Everyone has dealt with that, that's par for the course while growing up. No, what I'm talking about is when they make you do something that's going to spoil your whole summer vacation. Well that's exactly what mine did to me in the summer of '72.

Visions of fantastic get-togethers with my girlfriend Trudy floated through my brain as I walked home on the last day of school. My name is Billy Crammer and I am eighteen going on nineteen, and can lick the world with one hand tied behind my back. At least that's what I keep telling myself. The fact that I'd just finished my junior year instead of my senior one didn't bother me at all. I'd had to repeat a grade due to my complete lack of giving a shit. The summer was mine baby, and I was going to spend it pumping my fat seven and a half inch dick up Trudy's tight wet twat. A smile crossed my lips as I reflected on how many times I'd done just that over the last six months. Trudy was hot, tight, and very nasty. Hell, that chick could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. Yes, it was going to be a great summer, I had it all planned out. Unknown to me however, so did my parents.

As soon as I got home I could feel something bad in the air. My parents were waiting for me in the front room with some wonderful news. They told me they were having the house remodeled, and by the way, they were spending the summer on the French Riviera and I was spending it with my Grandma Hazel. Yeah, my folks are rich. Filthy rich! They got their money the old-fashioned way; they inherited it. Yep, Dad's father croaked and left them a butt load of dough. That's why I never worried about school; I knew they'd take care of me. I could feel my plans vanishing like a fart in the wind. Shit, I thought to myself, anyplace besides Grandma Hazel's. Now don't get me wrong, I love my Granny; it's just that since Pops had split ten tears ago she has become one serious whack-a-doodle. Besides, she lived clear out in the middle of the Nevada desert in some podunk town I referred to as Shitsville USA.

For the next three days I pleaded, begged, and groveled at their feet in hopes of changing their minds about sending me to Grandma's. I got the same results as I had when I'd asked for a car, a pathetic smile from Mom and a scornful look from Dad. They both told me it was for my own good. I failed to see how in the hell it was for my own good. Now, pumping my plump rod up Trudy's pussy all summer long would be for my own good, not keeping Mom's crazy Mother company for the summer. So at noon on the fourth day of my summer vacation I trudged up the stairs into the bus and grabbed a seat in the back. As if things couldn't get any worse, I glanced around and discovered I was on the geriatric ride to the land of milk and honey. The bus was filled with old fogies itching to get to Nevada and lose their retirement checks. Fan-fucking-tastic! It was going to be seventeen hours of listening to the cackle of old broads and grumpy fucks.

By the time the bus pulled into Shitsville, population 309 according to the sign on the outskirts of town, it was just after seven in the morning. My back and legs hurt from sitting for so long as I grabbed my lone bag from the overhead compartment and stepped off the bus. Taking my bag I sauntered over to where a bench sat under the stations overhanging roof and plopped my ass down. Fuck me I grumbled, it's only seven and I could already feel sweat trickle down my spine under my t-shirt.

The last time I'd seen Grandma Hazel was over two years ago when she came out for Thanksgiving. I hadn't spent too much time with her then, I was too busy puffing up the weed. Also she had this annoying habit of referring to me as a little turd. Get this for me turd, or, how bout a kiss for your Granny turd. At first it was amusing, of course it could have been because I was stoned, either way it started to grate on my nerves after a while. I started avoiding her until she finally went home a couple of days later. I did give her a quick kiss on the lips before she left. It felt like the crazy old broad had tried to shove her tongue in my mouth, or, once again it could have just been the weed. Twenty minutes went by before this beat up 65 Ford pick-up came roaring toward the station and slid to a stop at the curb right in front of me.

"What ya waitin for turd, a written invitation?"

Grandma Hazel sat behind the wheel; her head nearly obscured by a huge floppy brimmed hat, and just stared out the window at me. I stared back at her and fought to control the laughter that was bubbling up inside me. Maybe now would be a good time to describe her. She has short brown hair, piercing green eyes, and stands about five foot nothing. If I had to guess her weight, I'd say she couldn't be much more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. The reason I wanted to laugh was because she was so short it looked like she couldn't even see over the dashboard. When she turned her face away from me it looked as if a big hat with hands was driving the truck.

She shot me another hard look and barked, "Throw your crap in the back and get in, we're burning daylight here."

On the way to her house I held on for dear life, the crazy old broad drove like she was the only one on the road. I was also sure the truck was losing parts off it, because it vibrated so bad my teeth chattered. Grandma didn't seem to notice, she sat there with a death grip on the wheel and the accelerator pushed to the floorboards. I sat there wondering if I would have to change my underwear when we got to her place. To take my mind off the fear of dying I told her thanks for picking me up and letting me stay with her. She responded by telling me that it was my parents idea, not hers. She also told me that I'd be earning my keep while I was there. Yep, my summer was off to a rip-roaring good start.

"Another thing you better get through your head right now turd. In my house, it's my way or the highway, got it?" She glanced over at me with a look of finality.

"Got it," I replied while staring listlessly out the window at the bleak countryside.

The last time my family had gone to Grandma's place I was just a kid. I remembered her house was small and rundown; so when we pulled into her driveway I was completely shocked. Instead of her rundown shack of a place, there was a single story ranch style house here now. She noticed my wide-eyed expression and explained that she'd had the old place torn down and this one built. She didn't tell me how she got the money to do all this, and I wasn't foolish enough to ask. I was just happy that there was more room than I had been expecting. She parked the old truck in front of the garage and climbed out. Grabbing my bag out of the bed I followed her in.

When we entered she told me to follow her and she'd show me where my room was. The house was set up with the kitchen off to the left of the living room, and on the right was a hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. I followed her down the hall taking in her outfit. She was wearing a sleeveless white blouse with a floor length billowy cotton skirt in a kaleidoscope of colors. Her bare arms were the same deep bronze as her face. We passed two rooms with open doorways, her bedroom and the bathroom, before we reached what was to be my room. I waited until she entered before following her into the room. Grandma went over and drew open the curtains as I surveyed what was going to be my cell for the next three months.

On the right was a closet with sliding doors and on the left stood a double bed with a small dresser next to it. The bed was piled with folded sheets, pillowcases and a thick blanket that I was sure I wouldn't need. There were two plump pillows sitting against the wall that made up the headboard of the bed. There wasn't a TV in sight. Wonderful I thought as I walked over and dropped my bag on the floor near the bed. For some reason that got a rise out of Grandma. She glanced at my bag then back at me, she wasn't smiling.

"I've got rules in this house turd," she growled, then proceeded to tell me what they were.

Irritated and tired from the trip I listened impatiently while she explained that everything had a place and she expected everything to be in its place. She also told me that I was to clean my room daily, and keep my bed made if I wasn't in it. Another chore she tacked on was that I had to run a dust mop over the floors each and every day, and not just my room, but the whole place. The only room I didn't have to do was her bedroom; she said she'd do that one herself. There were no carpets anywhere in the house, just hardwood floors. Oh crap I thought to myself; I haven't been here ten minutes and the crazy loon has already turned me into a slave. She did help me make the bed, for witch I was grateful, but her parting words put a damper on even that.

"I know you're used to being lazy and getting away with everything at home. Well turd, if you try that shit here I'll bust your ass like you were a spoiled brat. Kapeesh?"

She didn't wait for an answer; she strode out of the room telling me that breakfast would be ready in about ten minutes. After first making sure she wasn't lurking out in the hallway I crammed all my clothes into the dresser. With that out of the way, I rolled a joint from my stash and opened the window. The weed calmed my nerves as I blew the smoke out the window and took a look at the back yard. There wasn't one really, just a bunch of cactus and some crappy looking bushes growing wildly here and there. There was a cement slab that had two lounge chaises and what passed for a picnic table on it though. A good place to puff up some smoke I mused as I shut the window and hid my stash under the mattress.

The smell of bacon frying reached my nose before I reached the kitchen. My stomach rumbled and reminded me that I hadn't eaten much since boarding the bus. Of course the weed had also given me a terrible case of the munchies. I walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. Grandma was at the stove with her back to me and I wasn't even sure if she knew I was there. Now Grandma really isn't that old, perhaps sixty-one or two, but anyone over thirty was ancient in my book. Anyway, as I watched her I noticed that she actually had a pretty firm body. Her arms were well muscled and her waistline and hips were quite slender. I'd already checked out the size of her chest as we drove from the bus station. They were small, not much more than a hand full, but nice anyway. Yeah, you got me; I'm a perv. My life revolves around my penis.

She finished cooking and brought two plates to the table. I dug in like a starving man while she just sort of picked at her food, all the while staring over in my direction. I wasn't sure, I was too busy stuffing my face, but I thought I heard her say something about me needing a haircut. Yeah right old lady, that's not happening I thought to myself. I liked my curly brown locks just the way they were. She was true to her word about me earning my keep; she made me wash the dishes, by myself no less.

When I finished I joined her in the front room. She was perched on one end of the sofa with a book of some sorts, so I sat at the other end. She seemed annoyed when I asked her if I could turn on the TV, but she said it was okay. I went over, turned it on and had to wait for the picture tube to warm up before I could check for something to watch. Wouldn't you know it, the damn set was a black and white model. Another thing I found out was that it only picked up one channel. When I asked Grandma about that she informed me that it would get two more channels, but I had to climb a ladder and turn the antenna before they'd come in. She was even more annoyed when I asked her if she could show me how. Dropping her book on the sofa she rose and stormed out the front door, I almost had to run just to keep up with her.

I followed her around to the side of the house where a ladder was already propped against the eaves. The antenna had a pole that reached the ground, but I learned that you had to climb up in order to be able to turn it in the right direction. Grandma told me that she had the positions marked with tape. When I didn't hop on the ladder and start climbing she shot me an exasperated look, told me to hold the ladder steady and began to climb up it herself. Holding onto the ladder I watched her go higher and higher until she reached the top. As I was looking up at her a gust of wind blew her skirt up and out away from her legs and butt. My jaw dropped and my eyes bugged out as I learned that Granny wasn't wearing any panties. Her legs were golden brown all the way up to her crotch, but her small round looking ass was as white as snow. I could feel the stiffness growing in my pants as I watched her firm butt globes contract and loosen with her movements. I was so fixated on her snow-white buns that I didn't notice she had finished and was staring down at me.

"Get a good look turd?" she asked when she reached the ground.

Red faced I mumbled, "Sorry."

"You act like you've never seen an ass before. Are you a virgin?"

"No Grandma, I'm not a virgin, and I've seen plenty of asses," I replied firmly.

She glanced down at the bulge in my pants. "Yeah right," she snickered.

After re-arranging my junk I followed her back inside and started flipping through the channels; all three of them. I settled for an episode of Mister Ed. Grandma retrieved her book and began reading again. At noon she asked if I wanted anything for lunch. I didn't. She shrugged and went back to her book. Boredom zeroed in around an hour later. I asked if there was something to do besides sitting around and watching television. The answer she gave me wasn't what I'd hoped for. She said if I was bored then I should go ahead and run the dust mop over the floors. She said that that would get rid of my boredom; it didn't. After shaking out the mop and putting it back in the garage I went back into the front room only to find it empty. Wondering where Grandma was I searched the whole house. I didn't find her until I stepped out the back door to see if she was in the back yard. She was.

Grandma had changed into a copper-colored skintight one-piece swimsuit and was in the process of dousing herself with a garden hose. I figured the water must be cold judging by how stiff her nipples were. By the time she finished soaking herself the suit looked as if it had been painted on. The front of the suit was so snug at her crotch it actually dug up between her cunt lips making them look fat and puffy. I could also see tiny brown hairs trying to escape at the sides. When she turned and bent over to shut off the faucet the seat of her suit slid into the crack of her ass and exposed two well-rounded white buns to my astonished eyes. My dick was reaching down my pants leg uncomfortably when she turned back around to face me. I asked what she was doing and was told that she liked to lay out and catch some rays before it got too hot. Surprising me she asked if I wanted to join her. She told me it would do my pasty-ass good to get a little sun. Well let me tell you, it didn't take me long to rush into my room and rummage through my crap and throw on the only pair of shorts I had. A baggy pair of lightly used gym shorts; I left my tighty-whities lying on the floor.

When I got back Grandma was stretched out in one of the lounges sipping from a large Tupperware glass filled with ice and what I thought was water. She eyed my baggy shorts then offered me a sip of her drink. Taking the glass I brought it to my lips and took a healthy slug of the clear liquid. I could hear Grandma cackling the whole time I was bent over coughing up a lung.

"What the hell is that?" I croaked when my throat stopped burning enough to speak.

"Moonshine," she said, reaching up and taking the glass from my shaking hand.

"Where'd you get moonshine from?"

"A friend of mine makes it," she replied. "Want some more?"

"No thanks Grandma," I stammered, lowering myself into the other lounger.

"Pussy," she said, and then took another slug of the stuff. "And stop calling me Grandma you little shit, it makes me feel old."

I wanted to say, you are old bitch, but instead I just said okay Hazel. It didn't take long for me to figure out why she had doused herself with the hose, I felt like I was in an oven in about ten minutes. When I got up and started hosing myself down she glanced over and said; "Now you're learning turd." The water was cold; I could feel my dick shriveling as my balls tried to climb back into my body. Over the next hour or so we both took turns using the hose. I also learned that this was her normal routine. She would get up, clean the floors after breakfast, and then treat herself to some sun and a glass of the good stuff, as she called the moonshine. When I asked what she did for the rest of the day she told me that depended on how much she drank. Most times she took a nap before having something to eat for dinner she added. Then after dinner she'd watch some television then go to bed. If that's all there is to do here, then this was going to be the worst summer ever I thought to myself.

It wasn't long before I'd had enough sun; I went inside and took a shower just to cool off then sprawled out on my bed with only the towel wrapped around me. I heard Grandma come in and go to her room. A few minutes later she was standing in the doorway looking at me with evil in her eyes. She had changed into an oversized white nightshirt that barely reached the middle of her thighs. It had definitely seen better days, the material was so worn I could actually see through it in spots. At first I thought she was pissed because I was lying in bed in the middle of the day. But when she stepped in and grabbed my shorts and briefs off the floor then flung them at me I knew what she was angry about. I remembered her saying everything has its place.

I wasn't surprised when she started ranting and raving about what a slacker I was, going on and on about how she'd told me she'd bust my ass if I didn't do what I was told. What I was surprised by was when she said I probably didn't even use the dust mop in my room. I told her I had but to prove her point she got down on all fours and lowered her head enough to look under my bed. Curious as to what she was doing I rolled over and peered over the edge of the bed at her. She had her ass up in the air pointing in my direction and was looking under the bed. I couldn't believe my eyes. Grandma's nightshirt had ridden up so high that her ass and pussy was staring back at me. My cock began to swell as I ogled her firm white butt and the hair-covered outer lips of her pussy. I could even see the pinkness of her slit for a second before she struggled back to her feet and glared down at me.

"Dust bunnies!" she growled, then told me to turn over on my stomach.

"Why?" I timidly asked.

"I told you what I'd do if you didn't do as you were told. There are dust bunnies under your bed, which means you didn't clean under there, so roll your ass over!"

Something in her voice actually scared me a little. Slowly I rolled over aware of how much my expanding cock was tenting the towel. When I was finally on my stomach the crazy old lady threw herself on top of me and straddled my back facing my feet. Without any warning she managed to yank the towel off and began to swat my bare ass. I could hear the smacks each time her hand came down on my buttocks, but I was more interested in the sensation of feeling her cunt pressed into the skin of my back. Her pubic hairs tickled as she slipped and slid on my back while she spanked me. It didn't hurt one little bit; in fact I found myself getting harder with each pathetic swat. By the time she finished my cheeks were starting to sting a little and my cock was fully engorged. As she climbed off I could swear the spot where her pussy had been felt wet. I could feel the air chilling that area more than the rest of my back.