The four of them sprawled across the threadbare dorm couch and floor cushions, wine bottles sweating on the coffee table. Emma kicked her feet up, cheeks already pink from the second glass. "Okay, bitches, truth time. Who wants to go first about their grandpa stories?"
Sophia laughed, tossing her hair. "Fine, I'll start. You know that retirement home volunteer gig I had last semester? This silver-haired guy, Mr. Harlan, eighty-two but still built like he chopped wood his whole life. We got to talking after bingo one night and he straight-up asked if I liked older men. I said maybe. Next thing I know I'm in his little apartment, on my knees, sucking the thickest cock I've ever seen. He tasted like salt and aftershave and he kept saying 'good girl' in this gravel voice while I gagged on it. When he bent me over the kitchen table and slid inside, I came so hard I knocked his pill bottles everywhere."
Mia whooped and clapped. "No fucking way. Did he finish inside?"
"Twice," Sophia grinned. "And then he made me tea like nothing happened. Your turn, Lily."
Lily bit her lip, playing shy but clearly loving it. "Mine was my actual grandpa's friend, Mr. Whitaker. Family barbecue, everyone else inside, I stayed to help clean up. He cornered me by the garage, hands all rough from years of carpentry. He didn't even ask—he just pushed my sundress up and ate me out right there against the siding. His tongue was slow, deliberate, like he had all day. I was shaking so bad I had to bite my own arm. Then he stood up, unzipped, and fucked me standing with my legs around his waist. He kept whispering how tight college pussy felt compared to his wife. Came all over my thighs and wiped it up with his handkerchief like a gentleman."
Emma fanned herself. "Jesus, that's hot. Mine was at the country club where I caddied. This retired banker, probably seventy-five, always tipped huge. One slow Tuesday he invited me into the locker room after hours. He sat on the bench in just a towel, let it drop, and told me to 'show him what those young lips could do.' I rode him reverse in the sauna, watching us in the mirror. He gripped my hips so hard I had bruises for a week and kept growling that he hadn't fucked anyone under sixty in decades. Every time I clenched he moaned like he was dying happy."
The girls were all leaning in now, breathing faster, the playful teasing giving way to genuine heat.
Sophia refilled glasses. "Mia, don't hold out. We know you've got one."
Mia smirked. "Alright. My grandpa's neighbor, Mr. Ellison. He caught me sunbathing topless in the backyard one weekend I was housesitting. Instead of freaking out he brought me lemonade and asked if I wanted company. We ended up in the pool. He sat on the steps and I straddled him, water sloshing everywhere while I worked myself down onto that veiny old dick. He sucked my nipples like he was starving and made me come three times before he let himself go. Afterward he said, 'Your generation doesn't know what real stamina looks like,' and proved it by going again in the hot tub."
Emma groaned, pressing her thighs together. "Okay, I'm wet just listening. Round two—who's got a second story?"
They kept going, voices dropping lower, details getting filthier: slow handjobs under blankets at nursing homes, bent over canes in parking lots, creaky beds that still held up under eager college bodies. Laughter mixed with soft moans as someone admitted to touching herself under the blanket. By the time the last bottle was empty they were all flushed, eyes bright, trading lazy kisses on cheeks and promising to text if any of them scored another "grandpa adventure" that week. Outside the window the campus lights glowed, but inside the room the air felt thick and sweet with shared secrets.
