Grandpa’s Surprise Visit

A gay sex stories: Grandpa’s Surprise Visit

This story takes place in a sleepy town in upstate New York.

*****

Chapter One: Busted.

It was the most embarrassing moment of my life; and that’s saying something when I think back at the many humiliations I suffered through as a teenager. When having your own mother catch her boyfriend in the midst of taking you anally comes in second, the winner must be something special.

It was, probably because of the fact that I wasn’t a “victim” but an aggressor. There was no other way to describe what I was doing in my bedroom that sunny August afternoon when my grandfather walked into the room. Clearly I was enjoying what I was doing, and was so engrossed in my efforts that I never heard Grandpa enter the house.

Mike didn’t either, although he had an excuse. He was too busy relaxing on my bed naked while I knelt beside him giving him the most passionate and sensuous hand job I could, which was merely a preamble to my going down on him to finish him off.

It sure wasn’t love, but more an act of boredom that led us to my bed, and while it wasn’t the first time, it was going to be the last since summer was winding down and I would be going to college soon.

Mike was a casual acquaintance who had beaten my ass in one-on-one basketball one day a couple of weeks ago, and somehow ended up at my house afterward. One thing led to another, and before I knew it I was sucking his cock.

Like I said, it wasn’t love, because Mike wasn’t all that great of a guy. He enjoyed using his superior height and weight to beat me rather handily at hoop, and he liked to rub my nose in it as well.

As for me, that was probably the appeal of it all. Having Mike dominate me at basketball – getting to bump and grind against his muscular hirsute body while he reveled in his considerable physical and athletic superiority – probably got him as hot as it did me.

“I ain’t queer,” he had told me that first day, after asking me if the rumor he had heard about me being gay was true. “I love girls.”

“I do too,” I had told him, and while it was true that I found girls as attractive as guys, the simple fact was that while I might indeed have “loved girls”, I wasn’t actually doing it with any of them, and was having much better luck with men. Usually older men, but any port in a storm, and Mike was better than nothing.

So our ritual was that after Mike would bang me around on the court, we would retire to my house for a soda, to be followed by Mike getting his clothes off and resting on the bed and letting me jerk him off and suck his cock for a while.

Afterward, depending on his mood, he might get me off as well. Despite his firm declaration that he “wasn’t queer”, he would masturbate me. The last time he had even put my dick in his mouth for a few seconds.

“Wanted to see what it was like,” he said, reassuring me that it wasn’t like he was homosexual. “I’d never do it to a man built like myself though. Yours is different, on account of how your dick is so little. I was just curious.”

“I know,” I replied, knowing that pretty soon Mike would be gobbling my tiny dick as eagerly as I was his.

“I get a kick out of looking at your dick,” was his other justification.

“I get that a lot,” was my reply.

“It’s what mine used to look like when I was a kid,” he felt necessary to add, even though we were both 19, and I was even a couple of months older than he was.

His nonchalant mocking of my manhood rolled off of me like water off a duck’s back, because it was something I was used to, having lived through more than my share of taunts from schoolmates and double takes from lovers. Luckily for me, the insults never came from people that really mattered.

So it was that on that afternoon, with my lubricated hands busy spinning up and down on Mike’s thick 7″ manhood and preparing to lean over and start using my mouth instead, that I suddenly looked up and saw my kindly widowed grandfather in the doorway with a shocked expression on his face.

..

Chapter Two: Well?

“Who was that?” Mike asked after my grandfather apologized and went back down the hall, and when I explained who it was, Mike was clearly concerned.

“Well? Gonna finish me off?” Mike wanted to know, waving his still erect cock around and unfazed by what had just transpired, apparently proving the old adage that a stiff dick has no conscience.

His indifference was understandable, and while I was obviously shaken, there was no sense letting his cock go to waste. After all, the damage was done, so proving that I was a hopelessly horny teenager, I sucked him dry.

“Want me to… you know? Get you off?” Mike asked before getting up.

I declined, and watched Mike put on his clothes and leave as that sinking feeling in my stomach returned.

I sprawled onto the bed and buried my face in the pillow, wondering about all the possibilities that could result from Grandpa’s visit, and while I thought I had covered them all, I learned that I had missed one.

***

Chapter Three: Grandpa returns.

Returns is not an accurate term, because while Grandpa had left the house, he had only gone into the back yard and puttered around in ways that only senior citizen men do, and after Mike had left he came back into the house and found me still in my room.

“Timmy? You okay?”

The sound of Grandpa’s voice filled me with dread, but at least I wouldn’t have long to wait to find out what was going to happen, so resignedly I rolled over onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow to face the music.

“About as good as can be expected,” I said.

“Timmy, I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and patting my shoulder. “I should have rung the bell before coming in.”

Apparently Mom had asked him to check on the house while she was out of town that week, and that was an indication as to what she thought of the level of her son’s dedication to his responsibilities.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting to see something like that to ruin your day.”

“No, that’s true that it wasn’t what I expected, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say it ruined anything,” Grandpa said. “Just two young fellas expressing love and affection for each other, as least as far as I could see. That is, until I barged in and put the kibosh on everything.”

Grandpa’s gentle hand on my shoulder had turned into a kneading of sorts as I tried to get a handle on what he was saying.

“Well, it wasn’t love,” I finally said, and my grandfather chuckled at that.

“Sure wasn’t checkers,” he replied. “Can’t say as I blame you though, Timmy. That friend of yours sure had a build on him. If I was your age again I would have loved to have been in your place.”

“Or his,” he added slowly, his eyes fixed on mine. “You know, when I was your age – let’s just say that you might be surprised at some of the things I used to do.”

At this stage of my life, I had fantasized about having sex with just about every person that I ran into in the course of a day, but never my grandfather. It wasn’t that he was horribly unattractive or anything, but after all, he was my grandfather.

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