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All characters represented in this work are wholly fictional, and over the age of eighteen.
As soon as you graduate from nursing school, you become the de facto medical consult for all of your friends and family. Ask literally anyone you know who is even tangentially a medical professional. Pharmacists, phlebotomists, nurses, CNAs, doctors, whatever- if you work anywhere near the hospital setting, you're going to start getting pictures of gooey rashes and descriptions of upper respiratory infections from your family.
That's expected, even if we hate having to put up with it. I was warned well in advance, so it's kind of what I signed up for when I went to nursing school. You're supposed to give a bit of a noncommittal response and have them go to urgent care, or to see their primary care physician. Whatever.
What I didn't expect, and certainly didn't sign up for, was the expectation to actually take care of my family members. That's why, one stormy night in March after graduating and moving across the country, I was so shocked to find my grandpa Nick knocking at the front door to my studio apartment.
I live in one of those big, ten floor buildings in St. Louis, you know, the ones that pack people in like sardines. So in theory, I should've gotten some warning via the call system that someone was coming up, but I suppose that would've been much too much to ask.
"Harper." Nick began grousing as soon as I opened the door, trundling past me into my home before I could so much as blink in surprise. "That father of yours has another think coming if he thinks I'm going to let you wipe my ass and feed me vitamins all day." He dragged an old, scraped suitcase behind him, ignoring my look of shock.
It had been years since I'd seen my grandfather. We'd bonded when I was younger, like every little girl idolizing her grandpa, but had fallen out of regular contact at some point in the last decade or so. He had the same grizzled beard and balding head, with what hair he did have now fully white. I knew he must be about seventy, but with how much guff he'd given me about "staying active" when I was a kid, I never expected to see him as a geriatric patient- and certainly not just being dropped off at my apartment!
"Grandpa?! What are you doing here?" I became suddenly aware of my immodest dress, in a way that only older relatives can make you. I had nothing on but a pair of lounge shorts and a cutoff tank top, and I was painfully aware of my C cups outlined against the thin fabric. My grandfather fixed me with a rather irritable glare.
"Your good-for-nothing dad has foisted me upon you so he and his new girlfriend can go canoodling in the Bahamas." I reached instinctively for my phone, but a raised hand forestalled me. "He's made sure he can't be contacted, for just this reason." I closed the door, making a mental note to try him later anyway.
"So what- he just left you here?!" I knew my father -at least since his third divorce- had been a little on the irresponsible side, but I never imagined he'd do something so selfish! Nick sighed deeply.
"I don't know where I went wrong with him, I thought I taught him right from wrong..." He cast around, looking over my studio apartment.
I thought I'd set it up pretty well, but confronted by my grandpa, I withered. On one side of the room, my queen bed sat directly on the box spring, thence the floor. On the other side, a futon and TV, capped at the end closest to the window by my desk, still covered in papers from studying for the NCLEX. I'd meant to put up a room divider, or my art (still boxed up in a corner), anything to make the room feel like home. However, my first few weeks of work had been sapping my energy, leaving me powerless to make the space my own. Which it definitely won't be if I have to share it with an old man!
"How much are you paying for this place?" He grumbled. He was tall, six foot two or three. I hazarded that he could touch wall-to-wall if he lay on the floor sideways. I blushed at the question.
"Like, fourteen hundred a month, but grandpa that's not-" The old man's jaw dropped.
"Fourteen hundred dollars? American? That can't be right!" I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Classic baby boomer- or whichever generation someone fifty years older than me belonged to. Surely, one of his other five kids could take him in. I have to get him out of my apartment!
"Housing is expensive, peepaw, but listen-" He stomped to the couch, slowly lowering himself down with evident difficulty. I felt my voice trail off as I watched him. He was so different from my childhood- much less bulky than he'd been before, and with a noticeable shudder to his movements. Parkinson's? Tremor, or something more nefarious?
"Listen, Harpy-girl." I felt a warm glow at his use of my childhood pet name. "I'm not going to cramp your style, or make you take care of me or whatever." His face cracked for the first time, the same soft smile I remembered from when I was a kid. "I'm not one of those old fucks who needs to be in a home- just let me crash on your couch for a week and I'll stay out of your hair." He struggled with the laces of his worn loafers, pulling at them with apparent frustration.
"Let me help you with that." I felt my heart soften as I knelt down in front of him, fussing with the knot. If I were in his place, I could imagine how embarrassing it would feel to be dumped unceremoniously on my relatives by the son I'd raised.
I sighed, undoing the knot and helping him to remove his shoe. I can't be about to do this, right?
"Okay grandpa, but just a week. It'll be a little cramped, but we can make it work." He cracked the grin at me again, as if he never had a doubt that I'd let him stick around.
"Thanks Harpy, I'll be quiet as a mouse, I promise." I rolled my eyes this time, knowing he was never able to keep his nose out of others' business.
Little did I know how right I was.
The shower rotation was awkward to say the least. I was used to walking around my apartment in the nude, and dressing in the closet-esque shower across from my kitchen was deeply uncomfortable, so I emerged in nothing but a towel.
I was surprised to find my grandpa filling the combo washer/dryer next to my oven. I had expected him to sit on his ass for the whole week.
"Shower's free!" I chirped, sidling by him, trying to avoid revealing too much skin. He merely grunted in an old man way, and took my place in the bathroom.
I pawed through the pile of clothes on the floor at the bottom of my bed. I was normally able to find a pair of panties fairly quickly, but it was just my luck that that evening was the exception. I kept rummaging, praying to find some I'd misplaced.
A thud from the bathroom.
"Harper!" My grandpa's strangled cry.
I cursed myself, I should've known he wasn't able to clean himself, despite his protestations.
I rushed in, pushing the door open and throwing back the curtain. Nick was sitting at the bottom of the bath/shower combo, a morose expression on his face. But his face wasn't what caught my eye.
It was unprofessional, but I was off the clock, I couldn't help but look a little further south. My grandpa's cock was long, thick and two-toned, his skin wrinkled but evidently still functional, judging by the half-chub he was sporting. I couldn't help but wonder what he'd been doing before he fell over.
"This one's a slippery bastard, help me up, won't you?" He reached up towards me, and I leaned in to assist him.
"I'm sorry grandpa! I should've-" I started, but gasped as my towel, now untucked from my armpits, dropped to the floor, leaving us fully naked together, the still-pattering water covering us both with a layer of wetness. I tried to be a professional. Nurses don't get embarrassed, or notice their patient's genitals.
"Come on, I'm seventy-three, it's not like I haven't seen a pair of tits before." Nick cajoled, and I clenched my jaw, grasping his arms fully and hoisting him to his feet.
"It's fine." I tried to keep my voice steady, but I couldn't help but feel his eyes on me, feel the heat of his skin against my own. I couldn't help but be aware of his wrinkled old penis, now slightly more full of blood, and slightly too close to my body for comfort. "I work with naked patients every day." I reached over to turn off the water, letting us exist without the constant rainstorm. Nick caught his breath from the exertion of rising to his feet, and looked me up and down.
"Your grandma always kept a bush too." He commented, my body hair evidently catching his eye. I think he was trying to be funny, but I felt the flush burning up my neck.
"Grandpa, just-" He waved me away, reaching for his towel.
"I know, I know, just trying to lighten the mood." He cleared the water from his face, and I gave him a once over. A nasty bruise was creeping up his hip, but at a cursory touch, he didn't appear to have broken anything.
"Take a step, anything clicking or hurting?" I instructed, holding his hand as he stepped out of the bath, almost on top of me as he stood in the bathroom proper. He towered over me, and I again glanced down to his phallus, still thick and aroused despite the situation.
"It's not easy, you know." I looked up, meeting his eyes. There was a deep sadness within them. "Losing the ownership of your body- I'm sure they taught you at school, but it's different when you're actually experiencing it." He made a face of disgust. "I can't even control my pecker, I just see a beautiful woman and it gets me going." I flushed an even deeper shade of crimson this time.
"I get it grandpa, I understand." I gave his shoulder what I hoped was a reassuring pat, and made my exit, intent on finding something to cover my tits and ass.
Nick, on the other hand, seemed entirely unconcerned following me out. I rolled my eyes again- old men never seem to give a shit about hiding their wrinkled expanses of flesh. Despite myself, I could tell Nick kept up with his workouts, as much as the term could apply to walks in the park. His skin was loose and wrinkled, but the flesh below still hinted at the musculature of his youth.
Finding a large tee shirt, I slid it over my head. It would be able to cover the goods until I could find some underwear. I glanced over, hearing grandpa groan as he settled onto the futon.
"This thing is a real rock, huh?" He grunted in my direction. I tried to look at him while also averting my gaze, a tall ask for anyone.
"Why don't you take the bed, I'll take the couch?" I should've known better than to suggest such a thing.
What followed was a fifteen minute diatribe about how he would not be a burden on my life while he stayed there, he was going to pull his weight- and so on and so on.
Despite his protestations, I insisted Nick take the bed. The futon was about a foot too short for him, and was hard enough to break his fragile, old man bones.
It doesn't feel great on mine, either. I thought as I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. For almost an hour, I couldn't get to sleep, tossing and turning on the thin padding.
Nick didn't seem to have any ideas regarding sleepwear, seemingly happy to remain naked until I forced him to put on some underwear, which I myself didn't feel like fighting to make happen. I eventually ended up forgoing underwear myself, staying in my long tee shirt and tossing a blanket over myself on the futon as we each moved to rest.
We hadn't talked much after the shower incident. I could feel that we were both thinking about one another, and what we'd seen.
I awoke a few hours later, not even sure when I'd fallen asleep, to what were probably meant to be surreptitious noises from my bed. My grandpa was grunting and moaning, breathing heavily only a few feet away from me. I slowly rose up, just high enough to see his outline in the dim light of the streets outside.
He was masturbating.
His penis was fully erect now, longer than my last boyfriend but perhaps less girthy. It must've been easy to have so many kids with grandma, considering how close he could get to a woman's cervix.
Grandpa's hand jerked up and down his manhood -he'd clearly liberated some of my bedside lotion for such an occasion- his pleasure evident to anyone with ears or eyes.
I could feel myself getting wet at the torrid exhibitionism. He clearly considered me fast asleep, and himself as quieter than his partial deafness allowed him to perceive.
I couldn't imagine stopping him, if I were in his shoes, I would collapse into a black hole of shame knowing my relative saw me pleasuring myself.
I lay back, listening to the slick sound of his hand moving up and down, ceaseless in his pursuit of an orgasm. His stamina impressed me as the seconds dragged into minutes, and my fingers strayed down to my own genitalia.
"Mmm Harpy-girl!" I gasped, hearing his voice make recognizable words for the first time. He's thinking about me!
I couldn't help myself.
I slowly parted the bush covering my mons pubis, biting my lip as I continued to listen to my grandfather mere feet away jerking off, launching my own attack against my clitoral hood.
Like two ships, moving in parallel but hidden by a fogbank, we were now masturbating together. Grandfather and granddaughter, exploring our bodies in the same room, a cacophony of slick noises, some more furtive than others, rising and falling, building inexorably towards a crescendo.
I was ashamed, of course, but shame doesn't really apply when you're horny. I was sliding fingers in and out of myself, imagining they were Nick's thick penis, his dick stretching my petite pussy open. He was almost four times my age, but I couldn't deny something sexy about his directness. The mystique of an older man, a spell cast upon my brain by his frank and matter-of-fact attitude towards life.
I could feel my vagina dripping fluid, droplets staining the black fabric of the futon as I listened to grandpa approaching orgasm. I was determined to join him there.
"Harper, you're going to have my baby!" His voice growled, low and seductive, the certainty of an older man seeking his mate, eager to give her his seed.
I couldn't help myself, I whimpered a response.
"Yes grandpa! Yes!" My ears were filled with the sound of rushing blood, my body tingling with a thousand tiny lightning bolts. I clapped my thighs together around my hand, shuddering with my whole being, trying to stay quiet despite the earth opening up to swallow me whole.
Grandpa seemed to be having a similar experience- I was certain I could hear the splattering of jizz on his chest, my sheets, and perhaps even onto the floor (although that was probably my imagination).
The whole studio apartment smelled like sex. I basked in it. It had been so long since I'd had a good orgasm.
I knew I had to go to work in the morning. I knew I shouldn't have masturbated with my grandpa. I knew I should've just pawned him off on some other relative.
But with the bubble bath flowing through my veins in post-orgasmic bliss, I didn't have the brainpower to be bothered thinking about it.
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