Large Grandma Part 1
Written and edited by Amnoartist
You sighed, looking out of the car window with nervousness, and for good reason: you were wedged against it by your massive younger sister, whose bulk took up two seats! That, plus you were visiting the grandma you had not seen in what felt like forever.
The car pulled into the driveway, a custom-framed BMW to support the immense combined weight of your mother and sister. The leather seats creaked as they each shuffled out of the vehicle, you following close behind. All you could see ahead was bulging back muscles easily twice your width.
Her long brown hair flowing in the gentle wind, your mother wore a blue checked shirt and matching denims with low heels to accentuate her calves that constantly bulged, thick veins traversing up her equally broad hamstrings bolstered by quads thick as pillars. Her every gentle breath forced her massive chest to expand and attack the shirt that, surprisingly, held itself together against her enormity. Every step she took nearer to your grandma’s door compelled her globular calves to tighten up.
Your sister was just as daunting to look at, with equally long and loose blonde hair swept across her mountain of a back covered by a sports top and shorts both two sizes too small. Not that she cared much. It was all deliberate. In their relaxed, cold state, her biceps were at least twofold the size of your head, wreathed in veins. She was bigger than you in all respects, there was no doubting that, but still smaller than your mother.
Your mother turned back with a quick scowl, realising you had lagged behind. “Keep up now - can’t keep your grandma waiting.” She pressed the doorbell and waited, for both of you to arrive.
Your sister paced past you and came up to your mother’s side, where between you and the door a wall of back muscle was created. “Let me in,” you called, vainly squeezing your way through the wall of beef to stand between your much larger relatives, but your sister demonstrated her dominance through simply stiffening up her back into a flex that solidified her position, as if it rooted her to the ground. “Don’t do that,” you added.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your sister mockingly returned, playing dumb as she offered a smug grin. She loved showing off her obvious superiority whenever the opportunity arose, even if it really was just in jest. “Oh, you mean this?” She drew her elbows inward to goad her already enormous back into swelling even wider; eliminating the potential small space you could have used to stand in.
“Yeah, that,” you chided. But as always, there was little point in expressing your thoughts about anything with your sister.
“Behave you two,” your mother scolded, her voice stern but loving.
You groaned in annoyance just as one of the upstairs windows creaked open to reveal your grandma’s face, wrinkled and weathered with age in so many ways you could lose count. Her trapezius muscles were hinted at through the room’s faint shadow. “Ah, you’re here.” Her voice was softly-spoken, a tad soothing. “Go on in. We’ll be with you in a minute.” A groan came from behind as she lapped a thick pasty white liquid from her cleavage with a finger before sucking on it as she moved away.
“Alright.” Your mother slowly opened the door, her pumpkin’d deltoids brushing against the threshold as she and your sister both tried to squeeze their way through it, you watching from behind as their muscles bulged and popped from the effort employed in the arduous task, splitting the door’s panelling. When finally inside, you included, they waited in the hall for your grandma to make her appearance. You would have preferred to do that in the comfort of a chair in the living room, not the contrasting icy hall.
Your sister gave her biceps a few flexes to help pass the time, each flex goading the muscle larger and larger, watching the great peaks bounce up and down, and closely examining the thick veins embellishing the plump limb. As each flex took place, the ridged bumps of her deltoids popped in conjunction. She was so smitten by her own body, it was almost perverse.
“Show-off,” you nagged.
Above you, the floorboards started creaking as loud steps moved closer to the staircase, the ceiling spewing out dust in tandem with each stride.
Just then, your grandma appeared, wearing a top stretched to its extremities, covering the vast amount of muscle underneath screaming for release. Her entire muscular magnificence was relaxed, cold, and yet it surpassed both your mother and sister’s combined! Her triceps pushed against the fabric of the top, some of the muscle itself trying to bulge its way through it. Even the gentlest flex of her calf was enough proof to show she was number one, its sheer size larger than your mother’s bicep post-workout, criss-crossed with a network of pulsing veins! Her ample breasts jiggled as if they had minds of their own, held together by a wall of pectoral meat so thick the edge of her chin brushed against it each time it was pumped to its limit! Her relaxed biceps each bore down on her emerging obliques, their individual dense peaks humorously flattened by the motion.
“Sorry I had to keep you waiting,” she said, slowly moving down the staircase, her bare calf meat bulging with each step, the floorboards still creaking. Your grandma’s calves in contrast with your mother’s were evidently larger, as if a cow had cannibalised another, larger one! They brushed against the carpeted steps upon her descent. “I was just giving your father a quickie. He should be down shortly.”
Upon your grandma finally by your side, her muscles bulging without having to flex and breasts jiggling, you abruptly ejaculated at the sight of her, moaning with a quick pelvic jerk.
Your mother caught the display that just occurred with the corner of her eyes and was understandably traumatised by it. “Oh my god! I told you to empty your balls before we left!”
“I did!” you called back with a humiliated expression.
“Oh em gee!” your sister laughed, covering her mouth with a hand, the tendons in her forearm twitching with the gesture.
Your grandma though, acted a little more nonchalantly. “Glad to see I’m providing the desired effect for you – again.” your grandma cooed, gazing perversely at the new dark, dripping stain in your jeans. “I was worried it might’ve been an accident last time. What a shame that would’ve been.” She smiled, her wrinkles bunching up at the cheeks.
“Sorry about that, honestly,” your mother said with embarrassment, a hand to her forehead. She repeated her statement about having asked you to empty your balls before leaving earlier. “I didn’t think it would happen again. At least, not so obviously like before.”
“I think it’s hilarious,” your sister admitted with a smile. She always did like to laugh at other people’s misfortunes.
“Oh you would, wouldn’t you?” you retorted sarcastically.
Your grandma laughed it off, offering a quick glance at your discomfited expression. “Not to worry. He’s just gone to prove I’m still desirable for even men his age.” She ended her reassuring statement with a bicep flex that strained the fabric of her top so intensely, the attire finally started visibly conceding to her massiveness, exhibiting small yet noticeable rips. The bicep itself had to be at least forty-five inches round, level with her bottom lip, veins faintly squirming under her skin.
The magnificent display caused you to stiffen up again.
“Though I admit,” your grandma added, looking at your Johnson, “you do need to control yourself. I know us women are practically fertility goddesses blended with raw, unparalleled strength and size, making us all unbearably attractive, especially me, but you really need to put a curb on your urges, boy. I would hate to discipline you.”
You worriedly gulped at the thought of your grandma using the strength in her overstuffed melon sized arm to give you an old-fashioned spanking, pants down to bare your buttocks. She was always one for keeping with tradition. You dreaded to think what kind of damage she’d wreak on you if the full strength of her swing was employed to the disciplining, how red your cheeks would be.
“That’d be fun to watch,” your sister divulged with a smile that coerced her traps and neck to bulge and flex in concert.
“Oh hush, you,” your mother cautioned, shaking her head.
You glowered at your sister in annoyance, who stuck her tongue out in response.
Your grandma offered a laugh at your sister’s ever-honest reply, driving her thickset chest muscles against her top, straining it more and more. “No, no, I won’t do that. I’m pretty sure there are other ways to punish him,” she pointed out knowingly.
“But right now, I think you ought to change out of that underwear of yours.” Your grandma folded her arms, her back widening to the point where her shoulders almost touched the wall at either side, casting a vast shadow over her visitors, the material of her top slowly splitting at the back to reveal her pulsing lats! “I think you’ve a couple of spare pairs lying around somewhere. They should fit you nicely, she mentioned nonchalantly.
There was no reason to ponder about it. You immediately dashed upstairs like a gazelle, brushing past your behemoth relatives.
“Make sure to freshen up while you’re at it,” your mother shouted up. “God knows you need to!”
Half an hour later, you were freshened up and ready to tolerate your grandma. Or at least, you were willing to try. After all, if she made you lose your load without making an effort, imagine what would happen if she did! At any rate, you would need to sit around her.
When downstairs, you found your behemoth sister splayed on huge custom-framed massage tables, dressed in a bikini, your grandpa eagerly kneading her melon-sized cows. She sighed contentedly in response to his hands gently manipulating the vast, veiny muscle, offering a quick glance at you.
To her right was another massage table far, far larger than her own, its frame slightly warped thanks to the immense bulk of your grandma, almost wearing a bikini, but hers was strained almost to its limits. Like your sister, she released a sigh as your mother pressed down on her barn door of a back. Or at least, she tried to. Every time she pushed on her spine to knead its surrounding beef, the fleshed barely depressed enough for her hands to get deep into the muscles themselves.
“Ah, glad you could join us,” your grandma declared with pleasure, offering a smile that emphasised the wrinkles on her face. “I was wondering when we’d see you again.” She gestured for you to come closer, the mere flick of her wrist enough to make every muscle in her arm ripple and bulge.
Reluctantly you complied; taking slow, strategically placed steps closer to the muscle behemoth who nursed your mother for years, her mammaries swollen with milk and pressing against the table. With each approaching step her size was emphasised more and more, hopelessly dwarfing your own on all accounts!
She curled the open arm, coercing its powerful muscle to balloon to its largest, the sharp peak angled towards your stomach. “Go on sweetie, give it a feel. You know you want to.”
Your mother offered a quick glower that implied you best do what was asked. But you were conflicted; you liked muscular women, there was no doubting that, but sometimes your mother and sister made that difficult for you to live with. Now your grandma was trying to go farther than that!
Despite the confliction, you caved and enveloped your hand round her massive arm before realising its full span barely encompassed even half the ballooned muscle! It was unbelievable!
Your grandma smiled. “Surprised you’re so shocked,” she admitted, clocking your emergent erection with a grin. “You’re definitely happy about it though.” Moving the flexed arm downward, the septuagenarian motioned to her calves. “Try the cows next, pet. You’ll love those.”
Your mother distanced herself from your grandma, moving towards the fireplace as she watched you take her place. You observed your grandma’s calves for a moment, trying to wrap your head round the sheer size of them. Cows they were indeed; their mass must have been four times bigger than your mother’s, swathed in veins and decorated with striations, carved into the distinctive heart shape many sought.
“Big, aren’t they?” your grandma teased, casually flexing a calf to the point where the muscle underneath visibly rolled forth to the surface of her skin, as though trying to burst through it! “Just imagine if they were actually pumped, love.”
You jerked forward with lust, suppressing your erection.
“I’ll say!” your sister interjected, green with envy. If there was anybody she wanted to be like, it was, beyond question, her grandma. “Mine look like lemons compared to yours.”
“Aww, don’t worry, sweetheart,” your grandma said, trying to reassure your sister, “they’re still bigger than your father’s. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’ll catch up to me eventually.”
“That’s right.” Your grandpa finally broke his silence, pulling back to bring his massaging to an end. “With a little more work, you’ll be even bigger than him! Who knows? You might even be bigger than your grandma, one day.” He was always one for encouragement.
There was also you to compare with your father. You were by no means huge, but God knows you were lucky enough to not be the smallest of the males in your family either. The two of you were roughly the same in regards to mass; fit and toned enough to be desirable to most women, but still too small to go up against even your sister, let alone your mother.
“You’re welcome to try,” your grandma teased in jest before she laughed, eyeballing your still apparent erection. “Though your brother is definitely bigger than him in some places.”
Your face turned beet red with embarrassment, concealing your hard-on with a cupped hand.
“No need to be so embarrassed, dear,” your grandma cooed as she rose from the table, the legs creaking with the motion, releasing metallic moans, hopeful of eventually being freed from her immensity. “It just means you appreciate me in your own special way,” she added with an expression so sultry, it would melt anyone’s heart!
You nodded in reluctance, suppressing the urge to ejaculate a second time. God knows what would have happened if you disagreed. Every time your grandma spoke, her muscles rippled and popped, so your attempt at controlling your bodily fluids would prove difficult.
When it was time for dinner, things only got more awkward. You first realised that would be the case when you caught onto the seating arrangement, which was very particular. Sitting comfortably – or at least, attempting to – you realised your mother was seated directly to your left, your sister to your right and your grandma directly ahead, their metal framed seats groaning under their weight.
Your grandpa was to be seated to your grandma’s right, but he had the duty of dishing out the meals of the evening. And there really was an emphasis on ‘meals.’ Ever since he woke up earlier that morning, he immediately launched into cooking the countless dinners your grandma, mother and sister would later feast upon like vultures, seldom stopping to eat between each meal. There was chicken, beef, bacon, vegetables, stir fry, pasta, potatoes… it was simply an endless orgy of food!
You tried to focus on eating your own meal, but each time a mouthful was taken, your mind drifted away into wondering just how much food your mother and sister could actually digest. Each mouthful to them was a whole meal to you! How much they ate was emphasised by their long and loud burps.
Your grandma was different. Much, much different, and it should not have been as much a surprise to you as it was. While every mouthful your mother and sister ate was a meal to you, her first of many meals to your grandma was a fortnight’s worth of food to you! Her stomach was wide and round, visibly pressing against the table’s edges. And in spite of that, her brick-thick abs still showed through her top, a button missing from her trousers.
“This has to be one of the best meals you’ve cooked to date,” she said, praising your grandpa. Her stomach visibly swelled outward as she took another, pounds-heavy mouthful, her abs stretching and widening to better accommodate the ballooning. “I might have to reward you for it tonight,” she added teasingly.
Your grandpa chuckled.
You watched as your grandma continued eating ravenously, intermittently releasing burps that dwarfed your mother and sister’s combined! You groaned with lust at the sight, groping your balls under the table.
Your mother nudged you gently. “Not while we’re eating.” A splodge of spaghetti dropped from her fork.
Your grandma laughed it off. “It’s fine. He’s lasted longer than I thought.” Despite reassuring your mother, she teased you further by slipping out of her slipper and groping your crotch with her bare foot. “Not so sure how much longer he’ll be able to tolerate it though,” she added, feeling your hard-on grow between her toes. “Maybe I should just end it for him now. What do you say? Should I give you a quickie right here? Maybe we should do something racier?”
You whimpered in response, shaking your head in refusal. It was full steam ahead now; ever since you arrived, your grandma was being nothing but a pure tease, flexing muscles this way and that. But now she was going so far as to try and get you to openly jack off to her!
“Oh come on. You don’t know what you’d be missing out on, sweetie.” She pulled an arm up into a flex, sending several plates crashing to the floor, the mere motion enough to make the vein encrusted limb to literally grow from the excitement of what could potentially happen. Was the growth temporary and only caused by the excitement? “Maybe I’ll work your dick between my bicep?”
You groaned in half-annoyance and half-lust. Your grandma should not have been doing this to you, and yet she was driving you round the bend!
Your sister laughed. “Look at him squirm!”
“You can say yes, sweetheart,” your mother said. She wanted you to agree – you saw it in her eyes: the hope. “There’s nothing wrong in it. What if I joined in, would that help?!” Her voice was almost as sultry and commanding as your grandma’s!
You shook your head again, “No, sprinting from the kitchen and running upstairs, your boots rhythmically stamping on the steps.
“He’ll come around,” your grandma stated with a smile. “They always do.”
When night approached sleep was difficult for the reason that your sister’s snoring was anything but quiet. While you knew everything your grandma tried to impose throughout the day was wrong, you couldn’t deny it was she who kept you awake. You had to do something to help you sleep.
You rose from the bed and tiptoed past your drooling hulk of a sister, whose massive arm dangled free from the sheets, its veins prominent. Gently you opened the door just enough to squeeze through and quickened your creeping slightly as you entered the hall.
“Phew.” You made your way towards the toilet and were just about to open its door when your ears picked up rhythmic creaking and some other sounds before a final, definitive thud from further down the hall. Usually, you would have presumed those noises to simply be the house creaking from the harsh night winds, but curiosity gripped you, so you ventured down the hall to the source of the noise: your grandma’s bedroom.
Your conscience played no part now; as soon as you reached the door it had gone both deaf and blind. You were on your own with nothing to guide you. Only after opening the door would you know if it was meaningful. You opened the door slowly at first, just enough to peek your eye through. Then you saw it.
Your grandma stood naked by the TV, pleasuring your grandpa with a blowjob, his legs over her yard-thick shoulders. Her salt-and-pepper hair was loose and draped over her surging traps, throat bulging with every thrust.
“All those months of waiting, of holding your load in,” she declared between sucks, “and now you’re being rewarded.”
You noticed her bed was a mangled heap of split wood and torn linen sprawled carelessly across the floor, the curtains shredded unevenly.
Your attention was then put drawn to her stomach; round and fat-like, reminiscent of when she gorged on the food at dinner time, her abs still showing. The difference here though, was the food had been exchanged for a near constant flow of your grandpa’s repressed load. You could literally see it visibly stream down her throat in thick bulges and hit the bottom of her expanding muscle gut!
Every time she felt your grandpa getting flaccid, the mere flex of an arm was enough to make him hard again, her gravity-defying cantaloupe-sized breasts mushed against his comparatively small chest.
You felt yourself getting hard at the spectacle; the hardest you’ve ever been! Your cock tented to your grandma’s audible swallows and contracting breasts as she pulled your grandpa in further, thrusting more of his tube steak down her bulging gullet.
Finally she clocked you and, defying all odds against her, was able to offer a full pleasant smile whilst sucking. Her next swallow was the loudest, which was probably deliberate. “Sweetie!” Her vice-like grip on him released, your grandpa slid free from your behemoth grandma into an exhausted heap. “How nice of you to drop by.” She turned to face you, her swollen cum-filled muscle gut rolling with the motion, then started making her way towards you in a sultry manner.
You did not gulp, wince, or cry out in protest at what came next. Instead, you endured. With your grandma’s every step your erection only intensified.
When finally facing, you a mere couple of inches apart, your bodies were starkly contrasted – pointlessly so! A vast shadow engulfed your smaller frame so much; it was as if it had turned your skin completely black!
“Now,” she said, kneeling on both knees, taking a hold of your underwear, a finger gracing your hard-on for a moment, “why don’t we see what you’re made of.” Using barely any of her strength, she tore your underwear free from your waist like tissue paper and watched as the totality of your phallus was finally made known to her, springing upwards.
Your grandma licked her lips. “My my,” she said, taking hold of your cock, coercing her forearms to lightly bulge, “your mother certainly has been taking care of you over the years, hasn’t she?” She bared her tongue out for you to see it before licking your shaft, ending with a quick suck before pulling back. “Wonder how much sugar I’m going to get from your lollipop.”
You moaned as your grandma took your cock in her mouth hungrily, her tongue churning within your shaft. As she went ball-deep, her throat bulged to match the shape of your sack, using a free hand to grope one of her breasts.
You returned the motion by grabbing your grandma’s deltoids with both hands in an attempt to knead them, but it was pointless; the pleasure you were experiencing was too much to help you concentrate.
Your grandma’s bulging stomach gurgled, indicating something of significance was coming. As that took place though, she quickened her pace, going even deeper, her lips touching your thigh. Pulling out, she frowned. “Don’t hold back, darling. Sugar’s good for the skin.” Her voice was sultry, rivalling that of even the greatest porn star.
Then almost suddenly, the build-up now unbearable, you came with a quick pelvis thrust, shooting your load into your grandma’s mouth, bending forwards against her delt. Her hearing was dulled for that one moment of pleasure, but your sense of feel was far from dampened; heaving breaths, you literally felt your load expel, felt your grandma’s hand still working your dick even as she swallowed.
“That’s a good boy,” she complimented with a grin before pulling herself up to stand over you, her stomach churning from the vast quantities of bodily fluids she consumed. “Thick and creamy.”
“I didn’t realise I had that much in me,” you softly admitted in between pants.
Your grandma laughed. “Honestly, I thought you’d have much more in you, but beggars can’t be choosers.” She moved over to her your grandpa, her stomach visibly and audibly churning in line with each step. He was soundly asleep. “Still, it’s better than what he had to offer.”
Bicep by Amnoartist
A hand over your cock, you stood up and headed to the door to leave. There wasn’t that much of a reason to hang around anymore. You looked back to see your grandma crunch down into an abs and thighs pose, audibly compressing the vast amounts of cum into nothingness, bringing her abs back into their perfect flat shape. She burped loudly before bringing her arm up into a flex that, predictably, made you hard again!
“I knew you weren’t finished” she declared happily, sauntering back up to you and pulled you in closer.
The mere flex of your grandma’s vein-laden bicep gave you the idea of wedging it between the mighty peak. “You said you wanted to work it between your bicep, didn’t you?”
Your grandma laughed. “Glad to see your memory’s sharp.” Taking the hint, she started flexing her bicep to its max, the rock-hard bulgy beef underneath stroking your shaft in slow motions. “This is good, isn’t it? A mother may know what’s good for her child, but a grandma knows what’s best for everyone.” She quickened her flexes, flexing her bookcase-wide chest in tandem with the bobbing of your cock.
You started jerking lightly, indicating another ejaculating period was fast approaching. Your grandma noticed this and took advantage, placing her mouth in front to take the torrent of junk that would release from you. And then—
You released as expected, more powerfully than before, sending the cream down her throat in a prolonged torrent that filled her stomach like a drum as before, audibly stretching outward before pressing against your own gut!
When it eventually ended, you collapsed onto the floor panting. Your grandma loomed over you; her wide, cum-filled muscle gut reaching over the width of your back visibly squirmed as the love juice travelled through her. “He’s been brought up well,” she said contentedly, stroking her squirming gut.
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