Grandma’s Crushing Scissor Lesson

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Big Tits

Mrs. B., as Josh called Mrs. Borden, looked incredible.

The successful businesswoman had just gotten home from work and was making dinner for her granddaughter Julia and Josh, Julia’s boyfriend. They would often come to the older, divorced woman’s house to keep her company. Julia and Mrs. B. were close, and similar in their athletic beauty.

And try as he might, Josh couldn’t take his eyes off the fetching Mrs. Borden.

She was tall and alluring, 5-7, a willowy 120 pounds, short blonde hair and bright blue eyes, a gorgeous woman of 60. It was her legs that transfixed Josh most of all, he didn’t know why they did, but whenever she showed any leg at all, he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. They were long and lean, more than slightly muscular from running and playing tennis, sinewy and firm, tanned and decidedly sexy.

And Julia noticed Josh’s infatuation, and it angered her, made her feel inadequate. At 5-5, 130 pounds, Julia, a good-looking 19-year-old blonde, had gorgeous legs of her own, thicker, more muscular. But it was her sexy granny’s legs that seemed more hypnotic to Josh.

Like today. As Mrs. B. puttered around the kitchen, still in her smart, black business dress cut a few inches above the knees, no nylons and black strap heels, he watched intently as she moved fluidly around the kitchen. He and Julia sat at the kitchen island, all three talking, but Josh less so as he furtively cast glances at the older woman’s legs, her calves flaring and dancing under her supple, tanned skin, the hint of thigh showing etched firm and hard as she moved.

“Uh, Josh, you like my new shorts?” Julia asked him, looking down at her denim shorts, high cut on her hard thighs.

“Yeah, honey, very nice,” he answered politely, taking the occasion to look harder at her granny’s legs while Julia was looking at her own.

But Julia caught him, she always did, and rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to change, be right back,” Mrs. B said once she got water boiling on the stove for some spaghetti.

Julia spun around and confronted her boyfriend, whose eyes followed her grandmother out of the room.

“Josh, what is it with you and my granma’s legs, it’s really starting to piss me off!” Julia growled at him once she left.

Josh blushed. He knew she’d caught him on occasion staring at her grandmother’s gorgeous gams, but never had she been so outspoken about it.

“Uh, hell, Julia, it’s nothing,” he lied. “She’s got nice legs, sure, but it’s not like I stare at ’em or anything.”

“Bullshit,” Julia said defensively, arms crossed on her chest. “You stare plenty. Do you fantasize about my grandma’s legs when we’re screwing, Josh? Do you? Answer me honestly.”

Josh affected his most wounded look as he lied, “Julia, for God’s sake, no way! I mean she’s a pretty lady and all but c’mon she’s…fuck, 40 years old than me, yuck! Honey, for crying out loud, you’re making more of this than you should, believe me.”

She knew he was lying but instead said, “Well, OK, if you say so,” then slipped off the stool. “Be right back, gotta go to the bathroom.”

She marched down the hall to her grandma’s room and walked in where the lovely lady was changing into a tight, high-cut pair of bright yellow running shorts and white t-shirt. She did have great legs, Julia thought as she watched the sinew in her granny’s thighs flex, those calves creased on the sides.

“Grandma, there’s something I gotta tell you,” Julia said, sitting on the bed as her granny pulled on a pair of sandals, sitting next to her.

“Sure, honey, what, you can tell me anything you know that,” she said, patting her granddaughter’s Etlik escort leg. “Now what is it, something’s bothering you, I can tell.”

Julia sighed and continued.

“Josh thinks you got great legs and he won’t stop staring at them,” she blurted out. “He denies staring, but I catch him all the time. Oh, Grandma, you DO have great legs, I guess I get my great legs from you, but for gosh sake, he’s my boyfriend!”

Her grandmother looked back at her incredulously. She knew she had grat legs but had no idea Josh was noticing. Since the divorce, she hadn’t felt the stare of any man, and in a sudden moment of self-honesty she realized this kind of tickled and pleased her, that her old legs had that sort of affect on such a young man.

But she hugged her granddaughter close and comforted her.

“Oh, honey, it’s probably nothing,” she said. “Why would he want to look at an old pair of legs like mine when he has yours? Besides, it’s just a young man thing, really, don’t make too much of it.”

“Really, Grandma?” Julia asked hopefully.

“Really, hon,” she said. “But if you want, I’ll have a talk with him.”

“Really, what would you say?”

“Well,” her grandmother said. “You know the expression ‘too much of a good thing’?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Maybe you don’t remember it, but I used to wrestle your granddad when he got out of hand,” she smiled.

Julia’s eyes lit up.

“Shit, I remember!” she cried. “You’d wrap your legs around him, his ribs and his head, and squeeze until he screamed, I remember that now! Scissors was it, a…scissor hold?”

Her grandmother beamed.

“Yup, scissors, headscissors, bodyscissors, these old legs really kept him in line, for the most part,” she laughed.

“You mean you’d do that to Josh?”

“Hon, you know what aversion therapy is, right?”

“Grandma, I’m a psyche major, of course I know,” she said. “Give someone too much of a bad behavior and you can make them kick the habit, like making a kid smoke a whole pack of cigarettes one after another.”


Julia smiled.

“Honey, why don’t you go to the store, get us some Italian bread for dinner,” her granny smiled, handing her granddaughter some cash. “Take your time. I’d say a half hour should suffice. This sort of treatment is best done one on one, ok?”

Julia giggled and jumped up.

“OK, Grandma,” she said. “But don’t hurt him too bad, he still is my boyfriend.”

“Don’t you worry, honey,” she laughed, patting her legs and looking down at them. “We’ll take care of him.”

Mrs. B waited until she heard Julia leave before walking to the kitchen where Josh still sat, his eyes growing wide at the sight of her great legs in those tiny yellow shorts. She made small talk, purposely keeping her back to him and smiling as she noticed his reflection in the shine of the kitchen stove, staring down at her legs.

At one point, she reached for something in a high cabinet, which she knew would make her long calves bulge like tanned diamonds above her slender ankles, then she dropped it, bending at the waist to pick it up, stretching her long hamstrings into defined, sexy planks of hard flesh, the separation of steely muscle deep and pronounced.

Josh groaned audibly without realizing it.

“You say something honey?” Mrs. B. asked innocently, walking toward him.

“Uh, no, nothing Mrs. B.,” he stammered nervously as she approached.

Smiling, she sat next to him at the counter, crossing her legs, the top thigh flexing, her soft, tanned skin pulled taut.

“You like my new short shorts, Josh?” she asked, ankara olgun escort looking down at her legs and then straightening them out – and locking her ankles. “Julia and I bought ours at the same time. Think these are too short for a woman my age?”

“Oh, God, no!” Josh gushed enthusiastically, sorry the moment he did. “I mean, no, they’re ok.”

“Why Josh, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you thought I had pretty good legs for an old gal,” she teased, crossing them again and leaning closer to him. “So do ya, Josh? Do you think I have great legs?”

Josh turned crimson and he looked away, out the window, at the floor, anywhere but at Mrs. B.

“Josh,” she suddenly said sternly, cupping his chin in her hand and forcing him to face her. “Look at my legs – these legs!”

She pulled his face downward.

“Do I have great legs, young man?”

“YES!” he shouted, slipping from her hand and standing up to back away. “You have great legs!”

Mrs. B. stood up, smiling, took Josh by a shaky hand and led him to the TV room. She sat on the couch, saying nothing, and pulled Josh to sit before her, facing away.

“You can’t be looking at my legs any more Josh, it’s upsetting my granddaughter,” Mrs. B. said calmly, placing first one thigh on his shoulder, then the other on the other one, Josh’s uncertain and wary eyes darting back and forth as each meaty gam rested on him. “And my therapy will cure you of your leg fetish you have for them.”

“Uh, Mrs. B., what’re you doing?” Josh said nervously as he watched the older woman’s legs snake tightly around his neck, her ankles loosely locking before him.

“You’ll see, Josh,” she said. “Legs give you pleasure, apparently, but I want to show you that MY legs will also give you PAIN!!”

Josh screamed in agony as Mrs. B’s thighs tightened brutally hard around his neck and ears, suddenly solidifying into rock-hard slabs of muscle. His hands shot to her lumpy, flowing quads and pulled to no avail, so he slid them down the silky limbs to her crossed calves and tried yanking them apart. Her squeeze got worse the harder he tried to free himself.

“Don’t even try, Josh, much stronger men than you have fallen prey to my headscissors!” she hissed at him, gripping the sofa cushions for support and snapping her long, lean legs out hard, slamming her thigh meat into his ears. “Submit? Do you GIVE to my thighs?”

“IGIVEIGIVE!” he screamed, hands flopping to his sides as Mrs. B’s thighs thundered against his head.

“Ever look at my legs again?”

“NO, I SWEAR!!!”

“Liar,” she growled, savagely folding up a supple calf into his throat and hooking it behind her other knee, pulling at the opposite leg to crunch the calf twice as hard into his windpipe. “My figure four should change your mind!”

She arched her back and slipped to the floor behind Josh, pulling back brutally hard on her leg, making it feel to him as if she were cutting his head off with her calf. She twisted to her right side, hauling back on her leg harder. An agile woman, she was curled back so far in the intensive scissoring effort that the back of her head nearly touched Josh. The boy screamed until the calf closed off his voice, and he just thrashed like a trapped animal, desperately pulling at her crushing gams.

“I think you might believe me now,” she said, finally letting him go only to get behind him and ensnare him in a full nelson/bodyscissors combo. “But just in case, have a little rib-bending leg squeezing!”

And she did just that, stretching Josh back in her nelson while crushing ankara ucuz escort his sides in her muscular thighs, bending his ribs.

“I GIVE, MRS. B, PLEASE!” he shouted, unable to move in her double squeeze of arms and legs.

“Gonna stare at these legs anymore?”

“No..I swear..” he groaned.

She unsnapped both holds and as he lay on his back, groggy from her wrestling-hold assault, she stood, pulled her shorts wickedly high up her pumped-up thighs and rudely sat on his face with the muscled orbs of her creamy white ass.

“I don’t think you want to be up the wrinkled old ass of an old lady, do ya Josh?” she growled over her shoulder into his terror-filled eyes, the boy unable to speak with a face full of dimpled, creamy white old-lady butt. “Didn’t think so. And I KNOW you don’t want THIS anymore, do ya?”

She leaned forward and scooted her thighs under his ears, around his neck, for a crushing reverse face scissors, folding her hard calves up to press Josh’s face back into the muscular clamp of her butt, most of which was now exposed. Arching her back, she leaned back with both hands and grabbed her locked feet, executing a bow maneuver that totally devoured his face and head in her pounding ass and thighs.

His hands slapped the cheeks of her butt, now flexed tight as she squeezed them together, and pulled at her muscle-braided thighs to no avail. He felt his extremities tingling and his mind go foggy as she squeezed harder, the adductors of her savagely scissoring inner thighs cutting off the blood to his brain. He grew dizzy, hands falling to the sides, and seconds later he was out cold.

When he came to, his ribs, neck, throat and skull ached and throbbed. He staggered to his feet to the kitchen, where Mrs. B. nonchalantly tended to the spaghetti on the stove.

“Hey, Josh, wanna give me a hand with this?” she cheerfully asked. “Or do you need me to give you a leg – or two – with YOUR problem.”

He groaned, walking to the stove to help her stir the sauce, looking anywhere but at her. They heard a door slam.

“Oh, Julia’s back with the bread!” Mrs. B. said.

Julia danced in, handing her granny the bread and looking at Josh’s face. All over the blushing, red flesh were tiny purple pinpricks, evidence of the severe scissoring squeeze moments ago as Mrs. B’s rugged thighs had ruptured tiny blood vessels in his face.

“You OK, Josh?” Julia asked. “You look like hell.”

“Oh, he’s fine, he’s fine,” Mrs. B. sighed, winking at Julia. “We had a little…talk while you were gone…”

“Yeah, what’d you talk about?” Julia asked, walking toward Josh, who backed away from her, his eyes darting down to her incredible legs and wondering what power they had inherited from her granny.

“We talked about how great…and VERY strong legs run in our family, honey,” Mrs. B. snarled, walking towards Josh as well, slapping her fleshy thighs together rapidly, making the meat quiver and snap noisily together. “Didn’t we Josh?”

“Oh, I think we BOTH need to have that talk with him, Grandma,” Julia hissed, grabbing Josh’s hair and tossing him to the floor.

“Please Julia…OWWWWW!”

The boy screamed as Julia’s massive young thighs engulfed his head, ankles locked, hands bridging her body off the floor of the kitchen as she applied full pressure. Her grandmother giggled with delight, clapping her hands.

“Like grandmother,” she sighed, laying down and lacing her long, brutally strong legs around the boy’s skinny middle and crushing with extreme pressure.

“Like granddaughter!” Julia snarled, quivering her huge thighs against Josh’s screaming head.

The tandem multi-generational family scissor team slapped palms together.

“I think dinner can wait a bit, don’t you?” Mrs. B. snarled, snapping her legs tight on Josh’s flattened midsection.

“Oh, for sure, Grandma,” Julia hissed, thundering her thick thighs hard and fast on her boyfriend’s moaning head. “For sure….”

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