When I was 13, I was sent to stay with my 75-year-old grandmother for a two-week visit, while my parents went on a long-planned anniversary vacation in Europe. Grandma lived in a small one-bedroom cottage, so I was relegated to a sofa bed in the tiny living room. This cramped living arrangement was a pain in the ass, and was tolerable only because my grandmother was a kind, patient and loving person. She also had a wonderful sense of humor and a bright outlook on life. Grandma looked every bit of her 75 years. She was rolly polly, somewhat cherubic, and had white hair that she usually pinned up. In other words, she was a typical grandmother.
I kept myself entertained with swimming lessons, comic books, television and just walking around her small town (this was a decade before video games). To my great frustration, however, one form of entertainment I was not able to enjoy was masturbation. At that age, I had been jacking off for about two years. Up to a couple months before, I had enjoyed incredible dry orgasms, but more recently I had just begun to grow a little tuft of pubic hair and to ejaculate. At home, I jacked off at least once or twice a day. Now at Grandma's, I simply had no opportunity for the simple fact that Grandma liked to stay up late watching television in the living room-so as a sleepy teenager, I fell asleep well before her every night-and she would get up before me every morning. The bathroom was also not an option, because it was off her bedroom and had no door, which left me in constant fear that she would walk into the bedroom and see what I was doing. In fact, a couple of days after I arrived, she confirmed my fears when she came in the bedroom with some linens while I was in the bathtub (she didn't see anything from her angle and was careful not to look my way, but that was enough to keep me chaste in the bathroom). After a week of enforced chastity, I was in a constant state of frustrated arousal.
One morning I woke up to the smell of a savory breakfast Grandma was cooking for me. Grandma saw that I was awake, came into the living room, sat down on the easy chair facing the sofa bed, bid me good morning, and suggested that I get up for breakfast. I had a problem though-young Mr. Johnson was already up. I had a granite morning erection that simply would not go away. I tried to stall for time with small talk, but Grandma soon told me to get up now or my breakfast would get cold. So I pulled back the sheets and got out of the bed as fast as I could to reach for my bathrobe, but as I straightened up, my four inch boner poked out the fly. I was mortified! All I could do was kind of bend over and quickly shuffle to pick up my bathrobe and then put it on as fast as I could. I never looked Grandma in the eye, so I was not positive what she saw, or what her reaction might have been if she did see.
I went to the bathroom to pee, but with my unrelenting hard on, I could only dribble a little out. So I came back out and sheepishly sat down at the breakfast table, still feeling hot and bothered, and failing to make any eye contact with my Grandmother. She made small talk with me for awhile as I ate breakfast and kept shifting around in discomfort with my permanent erection. Finally, she asked me if something was bothering me. I mumbled that I was fine. Then she floored me:
'If you are embarrassed because I saw your erection this morning, you shouldn't be.' I finally looked up at her. I just couldn't comprehend the sight of my kind grandmother smiling at me with the words I had just heard. I'm sure I turned 12 shades of red. She went on. 'You shouldn't act so surprised, honey, I know all about boys and men and their morning erections. I was married for 42 years before your grandfather died, and I had your dad and your Uncle Jim in the house for about 20 years as well. Erections are a perfectly natural occurrence, and you shouldn't be embarrassed or ashamed about getting them.' Then she tilted her head, kind of studying me as if trying to decide what further to say. I was just stunned. I didn't know what to say, but for some reason I couldn't help glance down at my still rampant boner. When I looked back at her, it seemed like her kind smile had become more of a smirk, as she clearly glanced between my eyes and the tent in my bathrobe and back.
Finally she broke the ice. 'May I ask you a question?'
'Do you masturbate?'
I was breathless. My whole body had that adrenaline rush feeling of clamminess, but also as if every nerve fiber was tingling. After a long pause, I responded 'I don't know.' What a stupid answer, but that's just what came out.
She wouldn't let me off the hook. 'Do you know what masturbation is?'
'I'm not sure,' I stammered, continuing my stonewalling.
She looked at me, as if sizing me up. Then she took a breath and commenced to explain in her usual kind manner, 'Well, honey, when boys and men become excited and get erections, they often help themselves to feel better by rubbing their penis for a little while.' She paused as if considering what more to say, then continued 'If you do that, eventually it feels better and better until it begins throbbing and causes your whole body to kind of shutter. That's called a climax or orgasm, and when that happens older boys and men shoot sperm out of their penis.' She then stopped and appraised my reaction. I just kind of nodded. She continued 'But you already knew that, didn't you.'
'I guess so,' I finally fessed up.
'I already told you that this is nothing to be ashamed of. Its all perfectly natural.'
I was still having trouble processing what all this meant, so I asked, 'so you don't mind if I masturbate?'
She laughed, 'Of course not honey.'
By that time, I was simply overcome with way too much information and too many hormones for my young mind to process. This resulted in my misunderstanding her comment and intent to my further chagrin. 'Thanks Grandma,' I stammered. Then I got up from the table and walked to the sofa bed, my mind swirling with confusion and lust. Once I reached the sofa bed, and still facing away from my grandmother, I slipped off my bathrobe, and, with shaking hands, pushed my pajama bottoms off, hopped up on the bed, and -- in what seemed like an out-of-body experience -- slowly curled my thumb and first two fingers around my stiff four-incher and began that wonderfully familiar up and down motion -- never once getting up the courage to look over at my grandmother. Suddenly, the dream was interrupted, by my grandmother's convulsive laughter.
'Oh my God, honey, I didn't mean that you should do it in front of me!' Immediately, she must have noticed the look of horror on my face, and realized how I had misunderstood. 'I am so sorry, don't feel bad, baby, I can see how you would have misunderstood what I was saying.' By this time I had covered my hard on with my hands. Then she continued 'Masturbation is something you should do in private. Its nothing to be ashamed of, but it's a private thing.' This whole time she was looking right at me and smiling, so I began to feel a little more comfortable. She went on, 'if you want to do it while you're staying here, just do it in the bathroom and close the bedroom door, and I'll know to give you your privacy. OK?'
It was still quite an awkward situation, and I was considering my next step, when she said 'Since you already started, you might as well finish, but from now on you do it in the bathroom. I'll just go do the dishes. With that she turned and went into the kitchen. No sooner did I pull my hands away from my penis to continue when my grandmother pulled a hand towel from a drawer in the kitchen and come back into the living room. She smiled at me while handing me the towel, 'Use this to clean up after yourself.' Then she returned to the kitchen and began clearing the table and doing the dishes-all in full view of where I was propped up on the sofa.
I felt kind of dorky under the circumstances, but eventually I began touching myself again, glancing from time to time at Grandma. She appeared to be keeping herself busy with the dishes, but I could see her glancing at me from time to time. The idea of lying naked from the waist down, with a blazing erection, in the presence of a woman (any woman) was intoxicating. I renewed my thumb and finger ministrations, and after a minute or two felt the familiar rising tension. Soon I lost all control. Just as I was nearing orgasm I looked over at Grandma. She was unabashedly watching with avid gaze, but with no discernable expression, leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed against her (rather large but pendulous) breasts. (To this day, I'm not sure what she was thinking.) Then I exploded, sending five or six jets of globby white jism in high arcs, which landed all over my chest and oozed down my dick and fingers.
At that point, I experienced the usual feelings of guilt and remorse. I quickly wiped the cum off me and went into the bathroom for a shower. When I got dressed and came out, the sofa bed was made up and pushed back into the sofa, the hand towel had disappeared, and Grandma was sitting on the couch watching TV. As soon as I sat down, she said that she hoped I enjoyed myself, but she was serious that, in the future, I should masturbate in private. And that was the one and only time I ever masturbated in front of a woman until I got married. Grandma knew what I was doing in the bathroom through the rest of the week, but we didn't discuss it and I never stayed with her again.