Date: Thu, 26 Apr 2001 11:25:56 -0700
From: Desert Guys <jg.ps@gte.net>
Subject: Thanks, Grampa Chapter 9

Thanks, Grampa
Chapter 9
A short story by Greg Bowden
jg.ps@gte.net

Saturday, June 8, 1957

I occupied the first week out of school pretty much the same way everybody
did: I slept, jacked off, slept, thought about finding a summer job, slept
and jacked off. Ron came over on Tuesday and we played around for a while
but his heart didn't seem to be in it. I sucked on him for a while but I
didn't think he was liking it much so I quit and we just jacked ourselves
off. Afterward we went to a movie and had more fun than we had playing
around.

On Wednesday Wes and I went swimming at his cousin's house and the three of
us played grab ass in the pool until we were all hard but we couldn't do
anything about it because his cousin's mom was in the kitchen. I couldn't
wait to get home and jack off.

When I jacked off I mostly pictured dad and Grampa fucking in the grass by
the creek. The more I pictured it, though, the easier it was to see me and
my dad doing it. I thought about sucking him, too, and found I could still
remember the taste and feel of him in my mouth. That excited me almost as
much as thinking about him fucking me but by the end of the week all I
could think about was him fucking me. By Saturday morning I knew I wanted
that more than anything in the world.

On Saturday Dad was lying on the bed with his dick in his hand when I
walked in. "Fooled you and took my shower first," he said, grinning at me.

"I noticed. There wasn't any hot water left." I lay down on the bed next to
him so that we were touching.

He laughed. "At your age a cold shower is good for you. Keeps the hornys
away."

I was hard by then and I waived it around in the air. "Oh, yea?"

We lay in silence for a little while, as though we didn't know what to say
or how to start. Finally I looked over at him and asked, "What did your
brothers think about you doing it with Grampa,? Did he do it with them,
too? Did you all..."

"Whoa there, son. One at a time, okay?" He paused and thought for a
minute. "As to my brothers, they didn't know about dad and me. He asked me
not to say anything and I didn't. Besides, what he and I did was... well,
it was different from what I did with my brothers." He rolled up on his
side, cupped his head in his hand and looked at me. "You need to understand
about me and Grampa, son. Remember I said it changed my life when he walked
in on us? Well, it did because... Well because when I played around and let
my brothers fuck me that's what it was, playing around. It felt wonderful
but it was just playing. With Grampa it was different. He didn't just fuck
me, he made love to me. And he taught me to make love back and I guess most
importantly he taught me that I was loved and cherished and someone very
special."

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "What he taught
me... I've tried to teach you every day since the day you were born."

I had a terrible lump in my throat and then I felt a tear run down my
face. I loved him so much. We lay in silence for several minutes until I
felt more under control. Then I got up and kneeled over his belly. "Dad? I
love you, you know?"

He smiled up at me and nodded. "Yea, I know. I've always known."

"Even though you're my dad, if you asked me, if you wanted to... to fuck
me. I could still say no if I wanted to. I mean, if I didn't want to. I
mean... You know."

"Now wait a minute, son. Remember when I started telling you about Grampa
and me, I told you it was all about me. I wasn't suggesting that you should
do that just because..."

I reached down and put my hand over his mouth. "I know. Ask me. Please?"

He licked the palm of my hand and I jerked it away in surprise. He laughed
and then looked me in the eyes. "Son, may I make love to you?" He held my
eyes until I nodded but then he shook his head. "No, you have to say
it. Out loud."

"Dad, please, I want you to make love to me."

He pulled my head down and kissed me. "My dad didn't do that until he was
inside me but I couldn't wait," he said and then did it again.

I remembered he'd said his dad tasted of tobacco and peppermint. My dad
tasted of Listerine mouthwash. To this day I get a little emotional jolt
when I'm close to someone who's used Listerine.

We kissed for a long time before he pulled back to look at me. "How..."

"The way you and Grampa did. Sitting up."

He pulled himself up on the bed until his back was against the
headboard. Then he leaned over and got a tube of stuff out of his bedside
table. He opened it and squeezed out some of the jelly inside. "I wish we'd
had this stuff when Grampa and I first started," he said, putting some on
my cock and rubbing it around so I could feel how slick it was. "We mostly
had to use whatever grease there was in the kitchen or sometimes just
spit. This is better."

I took the tube from him and squeezed some out and spread it on his
dick. He groaned and his dick flexed when I did.

"Now you," he said, taking the tube from me. He put some of the jelly on
his finger and reached under me so he could rub it on my ass. He put more
on and pushed his finger into me. It felt wonderful and I opened up to it
right away. Then he pulled me close and helped me position myself over
him. "Just like jacking off," he said, "it's better if you take it slow and
easy."

When Ron and I had done it he'd had to wait a couple of times for the pain
to go away before he could get all the way in. With my dad there was no
pain at all, just a feeling of filling up with him and something else, a
tingle and a wash of pleasure as he pushed through my sphincter. By the
time I felt his wiry hair against my buns I was so full of him and he felt
so good inside me I thought nothing could ever feel better. I found I was
wrong when I began moving up and down on him. Then he pulled me against him
and kissed me, running his tongue around the inside of my mouth. And then I
exploded.

When I came back he was still kissing me but he was shaking and growling
low in his throat. I figured out he was coming when I felt his dick bucking
around inside me and his growls changed to a whimper. It took him a long
time too.

First his eyes came back into focus, then he leaned in and kissed me, then
he began to laugh. I got caught up in it and laughed too. Before long we
both had tears streaming down our cheeks and we were laughing like
madmen. When we'd quieted down enough to speak he said, "I can't tell you
how much I love you, son." He kissed me and then went on, "But I can tell
you that if you don't stop moving around like that I'm going to come inside
you again."

I did stop but it didn't help. He sighed deeply and let go. He grinned the
whole time he was coming and when it was over he kissed me and said, "I
mean it, son. I love you. The same way your Grampa loves me." He pushed me
back so I was lying along his legs; he had to lean forward because his dick
was still in me and it was still hard. When he wrapped his hand around my
cock he didn't even have to move it to make me come. He slipped my foreskin
back a little and I shot off, spraying cum all over both of us.

When I had gotten my breath back he smiled and said, "I think we need a
shower. Come on, I'll wash your back."

In the shower he let me play with his dick while he washed me all over and
then played with mine while I washed him. When we had dried each other off
we went back to his bed, curled up spoon fashion and slept together.

We slept together from that day on, until I went away to college. When I
graduated and came back to work at his construction company, I also came
back to his bed. That was in 1963 and we slept together-and made love
together-until he died in 1994 at the age of 75. It was a great life.

Thanks Grampa, for teaching him about loving.

--------------------------
The End.
Comments, suggestions and criticisms gladly received and answered.
jg.ps@gte.net