The Time I Borrowed My Grandmother’s Vibrator

A while back I was at my grandmother’s house for a long visit and, after several days of helping get her flowerbeds up to snuff, tiling the bathroom, hanging curtains, picking and canning peas, and relocating dogwood trees, my body was aching. As I lay prostrate on her brown shag carpet in her living room, softly moaning (while also internally debating if I had enough energy to rip up and replace the worn, dated carpet) my sweet grandmother walked in.

“You’re plumb worn out aren’t you darling,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” I admitted, “And a little sore too.”

“Oooo, I’ve just the thing for that,” she clapped her hands and swished back towards her bedroom.

She returned carrying a box. It landed on the couch with a heavy thump. Whatever was inside wasn’t light.

“That will fix you right up,” she said, obviously pleased.

“What is it?” I asked.

“My vibrator,” she said, without a hint of irony.

“Oh?” Thankfully my head was still down so she didn’t see my quizzical expression.

“Mmmhmmm. Just plug it in and that thing will shake all your troubles away.”

This was getting to be too much. I pulled myself up off the floor to take a look at the thing. The box was big. The picture on the side of it showed a rectangular cushion attached to a motor that was flanked with two handles. In no way did it look like something that would be used for pleasuring the nether regions.

This looks just like the one my grandmother has.

This looks just like the one my grandmother has.

“It’s just like the ones the chiropractors use,” she said proudly.

“I supposed it couldn’t hurt,” I said, rubbing my sore shoulders, “And if it helps…”

“It’ll help. Just take it back to your room, lay down and give it a go,” she said confidently, “Oh, and it’s got two settings. High and low. I’d start with low and work up.”

“Got it,” I said, carrying the box—sheesh! The thing must weigh ten pounds, I thought—back to the bedroom I always slept in during my visits.

The machine inside looked exactly like what was promised in the photo. I unwound the cord, plugged it in and turned it on. Wow. It made some noise. The thing must have the transmission of a professional KitchenAid stand mixer, I decided.

I stretched out on the bed and began at my shoulders with the vibrator on the low setting. Grandmother was right. It worked wonders. After just a few minutes the tightness and soreness eased. Next came my arms, and they too relaxed. Then my legs. They took a bit longer as they had been carrying the brunt of the load during my home improvement marathon.

As I work the machine up my thighs I wondered… what would it feel like between them? But no… I couldn’t do that. I could not use my grandmother’s chiropractic-strength vibrator on my pussy. That would be just… wrong. I kept working my thighs.

But I was wearing shorts. And panties. It’s not like it would actually be against my flesh. Two layers of fabric would stand between my mound and her massager. I shook my head. It was too twisted.

But what if I did it just for a second, crossing from one thigh to the other? Now that would be acceptable, right? I would not be really using it in that way… just passing by on the way to the other side of my body. That would work.

And so the traversing of my body began. But something happened along the way. When the low-setting vibrations hit my pussy an electric jolt of powerful pleasure shot through my body. Without even thinking I found myself clutching the strong motor, driving the cushioned rectangle against my pubic bone as hard as I could.

I bucked against the intensity, but couldn’t pull away. The orgasm had built too rapidly. There was no stopping. None. I came biting my pillow to stifle the screams that wanted to pour from my throat.

As I flicked the switch to the “off” position, something occurred to me. My grandmother’s vibrator had made me have one of the most intense orgasms of my life. In less than 45 seconds. And that was just on the low setting!

My libido overtook my sense of propriety and during the remaining two days of my stay, I needed to relax the soreness in my arms and legs four times. And relax I did. I rode that thing like Seabiscuit, working up to the high setting and letting it completely rock my world. She asked if I wanted one for Christmas, but I told her no. If I had one in my house, available for use at all times, I might not ever leave.

 

54 thoughts on “The Time I Borrowed My Grandmother’s Vibrator

  1. It’s funny how grandmothers always know how to make you feel better and have something to help. My grandmother always had a peppermint in her purse for me. Somehow I’m thinkin’ I missed the boat a bit.

    Mike

  2. Do you have the hitachi magic wand? If not, you might never leave your bed…sounds like the closest thing to the crazy intensity of your grandmothers :)

    And glad you started with that one!! Riding is really the best way to go…am I right?

    Xoxo

  3. So riding it like Seabiscuit is hands down the winning line. Although the rest warrants a close second. When you say you haven’t been penetrated by a vegetable I was going to volunteer until I realized you weren’t referring to a Mental vegetable. So rats… there goes that opportunity.

    We have those grooves in the side of the road to warn you that you’re about to die that put quite a buzz through the car. I know a girl who drives on the edge all the time just for the buzz. I’m pretty sure it’s nowhere near as intense but it seems like a worthy experiment some time. Feel free to report back here on it. :D

  4. Bahahaha! Oh Noodle, you cheeky, saucy sod! When I saw the image before me I literally laughed out loud. Then I kept reading & once again wasn’t disappointed by your inquisitive self. I’ll not forget the story of Noodle’s granny’s vibrator in a hurry, hahaha!

  5. What a sweet grand daughter you are. I loved this story and what warm Grandma time. I’m on my way to a week of this kind of thing but the only slightly similar appliance like yours will be a rototiller and that’s just not happening. ; )

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