Alma’s Moments of Comforting WarmthAlma’s Moments of Comforting Warmth


Alma’s Moments of Comforting Warmth


“I’m making no promises, mother. I’ll call you when I’ve got an answer.” Alma Miller really did push her luck sometimes, but she usually got her way. Having lived on her own for a while, now, it had made her resourceful,.some might even say manipulative.

Asking a favour of Gary was not something she made a habit of, but Julie said that she would ask him the next time she succeeded in getting hold of her busy son on his cell-phone. He didn’t have a place of his own. Like so many young folks, nowadays, he was an owner of a camper van he had spent time, along with a considerable sum of money, on making comfortable and that he looked on as his ‘wheel estate,’ a hackneyed phrase that captured the way of the world for some now and that he thought of as home. Gary travelled for his work, drove for hours and days on Interstate Highways to get to another job, his name getting better known in the ‘fulfilment centers’ for large mail-order companies and the like that took him on, the contracts of varying lengths and uncertainty a way of life.

Julie picked up her cellphone and punched the speed dial number for her boy. She thought of him in those terms, but he was twenty-five and only too self-reliant, her fears for him never lessening but she knew that he was capable of looking after himself. She gazed at a recent picture of him, saw the challenging stare of his impossibly blue eyes and the hint of a smile on his straight-lipped mouth, his sandy-brown hair an uncombed and riotous tangle.

“See?” he seemed to be telling her, his hands holding some T-shirt, with its logo, up to his toned pecs and his stomach muscles taut and defined, “I’m in shape and looking after myself even if I’m out on the road…a drifter…but I’m happy.”

“Hi Mom…what’s up?” she finally heard him say, hearing the roar of traffic. “I’m resting up…not so far away and before I get back to the city…”

“Here…where I am? You coming here to see me?” she asked in dismay and laughing out in pleasure.

“Yeah, I thought I would…have a few days free, then I head out west again…Chicago way. I may be there for a while, but I’ll have to see how that works out.”

“It’s not a good time to travel…snow’s always around…the thermometer’s on the slide. I saw it on the TV news before I went to work.”

“It’s a job, mother, and it pays,” he said in some exasperation. “So, what gives?”

Julie wondered on a it, what to say. “Alma’s only just called me…your grandmother wanted to talk…you know?”

“Yeah, I sure do!” he laughed, captivatingly. “She wants me to do her a favour does she?”

“Yes, but I’ll tell you when you get here…it can keep until then.”

“No, tell me now please? Is she getting restless…wants me to drive her somewhere…to see some friends and do some catching up?”

“Yes, it goes something like that…now hurry home…come back here…your other home if you need it. You can stock up for your journey while you’re here.”

He laughed. “I’m being organised already….by both of you!”

“Who else have you got to do that except yourself?”

“I get by mother, don’t go worrying about that…on that score. I’ll see you soon,” he replied sharply before the call was closed.

Julie decided to wait before calling Alma. Her mother liked certainty, no loose ends, and with Gary you usually got none of those. Yet, with unpredictability there also came charm; something that had always gotten him through to where Gary wanted to be.


“This is sure goin’ to get interesting, Alma,” Gary smiled ruefully.

He was glad to have pulled into a rest-stop on I-90, the lake effect on the falling snow making it a mixture of powder and rain, turning to flurries of heavier sleet. The wipers had failed to sweep it away and he wasn’t going to take any chances with poor visibility and trucks looming out of the darkness all around you on the Interstate.

“I can see that, darlin’, and it’s going to affect our plans…”

Soon it would be a white-out and he would be going nowhere. He had found a space at the edge of the parking lot, semis and trailers backed up all over the place, the local radio station announcing crashes, slide-offs and the highway blocked by jack-knifed vehicles and tailbacks adding to the mayhem.

“With some of those truck’s engines, or gennies, running it’s goin’ to be noisy…hard to get any rest.”

Alma shivered. She hugged her long coat a little tighter, caught Gary’s glance as she looked his way, noted that his high-collared quilted-jacket was zipped almost to his throat and a thick, wooly, checked shirt just to be seen poking out of the sleeves. Faded black jeans and driver’s boots wouldn’t keep him warm once the engine was switched off.

The camper van was comfortable enough, for short trips or if you didn’t mind roughing it, which Gary seemed to thrive on. She was glad to have him for company.

“I’m regretting asking travesti gaziantep you…to help when the weather’s so awful…not that I’m with you because it’s been a while,” she now told him, reaching out to touch his arm, felt his strength. “If I hadn’t wasted time deciding what to bring with me we may have beaten all of this.”

“Perhaps, but none of this is your fault. We’ll get through…do that together.” She met his look her way. “You’ve let your hair grow a little longer…”

“You noticed? It’s also gotten a lot whiter…” she said on easing away her black, thick framed glasses. Gary thought that her doing that made Alma look younger. She wiped a hand over her side window, gave him a doubting look once more. “I hadn’t planned for this…”

“We’ll get through..”

“I sure hope we will,’ she replied, doubting his words. “Have you got everything we need to get through the night…because I think you’ve decided to stay here, let this storm blow itself out, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, now c’mon Alma, let’s see if we can get some supper…get comfortable while we’re in there…if you follow?” A blast of cold air entered the driver’s compartment as he opened the driver’s side door.

She laughed softly at his choice of words. Julie had told her often enough that her boy was a precocious kid…fresh sometimes and didn’t always know when to stop or what he was saying or doing.

“Yeah, I follow…in every way that matters. Just you look after me,” she added, soon gripping his gloved hand as he kept her from slipping on the snow.

It would be an adventure to be with him.

Gary made a fuss of her, and she liked his attentiveness, not because she was his oldest relative but on account of no man being in her life and it having gone that way for some time. She pretended, for his sake, to ignore the glances that were cast their way, a grey-haired woman sitting with a young and ruggedly good-looking guy. They had been caught in the storm, just like everyone else around them.

She chose not to drink too much, the small toilet cabinet and washroom in Gary’s box-like vehicle primitive and only too functional. More concerning was just where was she, or he, to sleep? The conversion work he had told her about, as they drove along chatting happily, had made a mobile home for one, two at a squeeze.

“I don’t have many sleepovers,” he’d teased, and she had seen his slow wink as if she didn’t know what he meant. A young guy like him wouldn’t go short of company. He hadn’t done so when he was younger, a kid growing up and Julie worrying if he put it about safely. She and her daughter were the only ‘roots’ that Gary had, and they were both divorced; unattached as far as she still knew of it where it concerned Julie.

It went some way, perhaps, to explaining Gary’s restless spirit, his drifting from place to place in his camper van. That would apply to the women that might enter his life, women who didn’t go along with the nomadic lifestyle he often pursued.

“You ready to take on the storm again?” he smiled, piling up the few items they had bought onto the single tray and taking it to the trolley. Others on the trolley’s rails spilled their contents onto the floor.

She followed, saw that he clutched a bottle of orange juice to be taken with them. “Yes, I’m ready…along with taking on my home for the night….and being with you. It’s becoming quite an adventure for me.”

She had been seen to fasten a scarf over her hair, so silky and smooth. It fell around her slender face, her long coat, quilted like his, was zipped up once more and covering her grey jersey blouse that he had seen. He wouldn’t have missed how it shaped her, the pale skin of her breastbone covered by a jewelled pendant necklace she’d put on as an after-thought, before she had rushed out of her apartment and followed him down the stairs and into the street where he had parked, the leafless trees sighing and bending on a freshening and cold wind.

It and the vehicles all around them were blanketed in snow, their windows, or hose to be seen, lit dimly and offering a warming sight. She hoped it would be the same when they had settled in for the night.


“Gary?” she called out into the dark, hesitantly and softly. “Gary…are…are you awake?”

The van shook in the wind and she could hear the splattering of the wind-blown snow on its sides. She hugged the sleeping bag and blanket tighter, shuffled and squirmed, her feet cold even in the woolen socks that he had given her. They were of little or no use. Nothing could keep out the chill and allow her to grab some sleep.

“Yeah…I’m awake, Alma.” He had made a bed on the floor beside the slatted base and thin mattress she lay upon, and that in the day formed bench seats on each side of the van. A small fluorescent light flickered on. He sat up and saw her staring down at him over the edge of the bed.

He instinctively gaziantep travesti gripped the hand she held out from under the covers.

“Sorry…I’m…I’m just so cold. Feel…feel that I need to ask you something.” She felt him grip her outstretched hand tighter and she pouted her lips, hesitated in asking it of him. “It’s crazy to ask, I know, but…but could you lie here with me? We’d keep each other warm…get warmer?”

“Like…like I once did when I stayed over…when I was a kid…with you and Clark?” Gary sat up and was closer to her now.

Dismayed, Alma reached out and touched his cheek. “You…you remember that time?”

“Yeah, we spooned…you held me to you.”

It was the first time he’d been held quite like that, felt Alma’s warmth against his back, how she smoothed her hands over his chest, hip and leg to comfort him after some nightmare had woken him up, she hearing him yell and coming to lie by him for a while. His boxer shorts and T-shirt didn’t stop him from knowing how it felt to be touched in that way.

He would sure feel differently if they did that again, grandmother or not.

The main lights soon flickered on, and she blinked, took in that he wore lounge pants and a long-sleeved T, his feet were bare. Alma watched him, saw how deftly he zipped their two sleeping bags together, pulled his pillow off the floor and laid it beside hers. All this he did in silence, averted his gaze from her, she in a fleecy pyjama suit, the jacket buttoned up to her throat.

“Are you sure…about this?” she asked, disconcerted on seeing the sway of his prick under his lounge pants as he moved, then knelt on the edge of what would be their bed.

“Yes, Alma, I am. We’re where we are now….”

Finally, Gary looked down at her as he switched off the main light. It had only just gone one in the morning. So the hours of a cold and different night still lay ahead of them, and he would be lying next to Alma, a quietly spoken and needy woman and in a situation he had not expected at all.

“I could use some warmth myself,” he confessed, slipping down beside her and feeling Alma’s hand soon brush over his chest as she nestles close. He feels her warm breaths on his cheek. “We sure won’t be telling anyone about this…”

Alma said nothing in reply. She lay against his back, ‘spooned’ as they had once done, and he gripped her hand and held it to his chest. He sure didn’t want to have her feel that he’d gotten hard, had a boner from feeling the press of her breasts against his back and thoughts of the woman he’d seen in her jersey blouse still fresh in his mind. She was a woman, his grandmother, but he had feelings only too inappropriate even for the circumstances they were in. But she’d suggested this; he’d not come onto her.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” she now asked. Gary shivered on feeling her breaths on his ear, the press of her lips to his skin. She had risen to do that, and he felt the press of her breasts against his back once more, more insistent. “You sure feel warm…made this sleeping bag cosier. Thank you for doing that, darlin’…”

“Alma…Alma, don’t…just lie beside me,” he asked, kept from groaning out from the hunger that her touches had aroused in him, Alma’s hand now under his vest, stroking his stomach. He tensed up.

“It’s…it’s been so long since I felt someone else’s warmth beside me.”

“And I’ll sure get lost if you go on…Alma…with…with what you’re doing.”

His prick strained against his lounge pants as he blurted it out, even as he half turned and put an arm about her neck, did not hesitate in meeting her kisses as she leant over him. She moved to lie against him, enough for one hand to stroke Alma’s skin under her fleecy pyjama top. She moved some more, soon lay on him, her thighs on each side of his legs and he put both hands to her skin. She wore no bra and he caressed Alma’s back from her shoulders down to her waist and hips, felt the press of her breasts on his chest.

“We’ll get warm some more,” she whispered against his face, felt an acute surge of desire for him. “Go on…I sure want your touch on me now, Gary…darling.”

Gary met Alma’s kisses as he clamped on the tumble of her breasts, pressed his face to them, tugged on her nipples that he felt poke against her top. His hands slid down her back, moved under her pyjama trousers and gripped her butt cheeks.

“You…you’ve got me all hard…in no time at all!”

“I sure know that!” Alma groaned, raised herself on extended arms to encourage his attention to the heavy tumble of her breasts that strained the front of her top. “Yes…touch me…don’t undress me,” she breathed against his lips, “it’s so darn cold.”

“We won’t be cold for long,” he chuckles, his hands slowly smoothing over her skin that he had seen shaped so enticingly when they sat opposite each other in the diner, the corner table out of the mainstream and she gaziantep travestileri choosing to open her coat, just to get comfortable. “I feel a wonderful woman is with me now…and she’s sure gotten to me. It’s forbidden you know?”

“You’re doin’ the same for me, and…yes…I know!” she gasps, bending to kiss him, the darkness of the van’s interior no hindrance but an incitement to how illicit these moments between them have become. Alma squirms on feeling his hands go under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms once more, and shifts on feeling him tug them down, his feet pushing them further down her thighs until she kick them off. “Gary…oh God…Gary! Forgive me…forgive me!”

She brazenly presses onto his questing fingers, wonders what he’ll make of her doing that as he tugs aside her knickers, so old-fashioned and practical, before fingers enter her haven, tug at the coarse hair on her slit.

“I sure want you now, Alma…how I want you…it’s crazy to be doin’ this but true!”

“I know…oh, how I know that!” she kisses.

He’s shocked to feel her warm, naked clit as he strokes her pussy’s lips and spreads them, caresses her fleshy legs; he wants to do that all through the night. They won’t be making their way on to their destinations any time soon in the morning.

“You learned all this long ago…” she goes on.

“Yeah, but never with someone like you…this is special…and so different…crazy and wonderful!”

She’s lost in the moments shared, has given him the freedom to explore her pussy with his fingers but she wants that hard pole of flesh in her, to stretch her opening and tease wider the muscles that should claim and then work him, as they once did with Clark and no one since then.

Alma finally concedes to his wishes, moves to lie under him and pushes his lounge pants down, frees that pole of flesh and gasps as he moves to kneel before her. shifts from knee to knee until Gary’s naked. He leans forward to kiss her. She grabs for him, tugs on his penis and encourages him to move until she feels it at her opening. It nestles there before he pulls away, slides under the covers and buries his face in her slicked heat, Alma closing the sleeping bag over them and gripping the edge tightly under her chin. He takes to her in the fetid darkness of the bag, does that with his mouth and tongue, reaches up to squeezes and tugs on her fleshy tits until she can bear it no longer.

“Bring it to me!” she cries out, squirming in her pleasure.

“Soon…in a moment,” she hears his muffled reply.

He explores her womanhood expertly, breathes in the pungent aroma and tastes her. He feels Alma squirm, hears her gasps and meets the buck of her hips as he takes to her slit, kisses her flashy thighs, the skin warm and soft.

She loosens her hold on the bag, feels him move up to kiss her, meets the swirls of his tongue in her mouth, the dart of that flesh and tastes herself on his lips.

“You crazy boy…you’re becoming my lover! Find me…fil me…do that now…share the real heat…makes us warm some more!”

He presses his prick to her slicked vaginal folds, feels her hand brush his belly and together they guide him in, Alma closing the edge of the sleeping bag around them, and she meets his kisses, feels his hot breaths on her throat as he grinds against her, plugs her until she can take no more, feels him stretch her, then go deeper again.

“You’re tight…” he groans, his breaths had movements making her shudder. “Tight, but I like that…and will love it all and with you.”

“It’s been a while…but I’ll still show you!”

Alma makes it easier for him; she spreads her legs a little wider, raises her knees as far as the bags allow and feels him crash against her butt cheeks, slicks over her pussy’s walls and he takes her…her grandson’s now tamping her; she’s gripping his hips and lifting her bum off the bed to meet him.

“Yes…go on…work me!” he calls out, thrusting and teasing, his hips moving in stretching, circular motions, easing out as far as he dares before ramming back in. Spooning with her so long ago set him off, got him thinking how it would go. He found out earlier than some; now he’s at it with the woman who set him on that path to pleasure, wayward and devoted as some times have been.

“Darling…you darling boy! Go on…go on!”

Alma’s body shivers from the raging sensations that he arouses, the jolts of pleasure that he brings to her body, fleshy and older, but a stimulation to his claims. She doesn’t have to see him, she feels everything and does so in the darkness of the van, their love bed creaking under the tempestuous movements that they now pursue. She pushes off the sleeping bag, feels him pull away her top before she drags his head down to her breasts once more.

“They’re yours…I’m yours!” she yelps as his hands close over them and they squeeze, his lips sinking onto her nipples in rapid succession of deepening sucks, and he tugs; does that repeatedly as she gasps in pain and abject pleasure.

“I’m losing it…can’t stop them!” he cries out and pauses; she grips his hips and together they finally succumb, he taking to her and Alma wrapping his body with aching arms and legs, her thoughts and reactions to what she is doing, has pursued with him, spiralling out of control.

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