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Grampa’s Photo

Grampa’s photo

A young man gets to know his grandfather in a way he would never have imagined.

The Morgan family were clearing out Clay’s father’s house; going through a lifetime of belongings, deciding what should be saved, what was worth donating to charity, what should be sold, and what should be discarded. Henry Morgan had passed away six weeks ago and it was a job that Clay couldn’t put off any longer.

Clay’s son Colt picked up a large old cigar box and looked inside. It was full of black and white photographs; some Polaroids, but mostly pictures that had been developed professionally and carried the stamp of the various businesses that had processed them.

Colt browsed through a few, looking with curiosity at the pictures of his grandfather in his much younger days. Then he came across one that surprised him. His grandfather was perhaps in his late teens or early twenties, blond-haired, wearing formal trousers and a collared shirt. He was outside what appeared to be a rustic building with pine trees just showing in the background. He was smiling broadly and looking directly at the camera.

But what made the photo stand out was the presence of a second young man, about the same age, similarly dressed, with dark hair. He was wearing dark trousers to Henry’s lighter ones, and they were belted a little high, near to his waist rather than just above his hips. The youth was sitting on grampa Henry’s lap, with his knees on either side of the young man’s right leg. He also smiling at the camera, but with more restraint. There was an inscrutable expression behind his look; darker than Henry’s openly happy expression. The men had both arms wrapped around each other. Henry had his wrapped around the other man’s waist, and the other man had his wrapped around Henry’s body and arms at chest height, pinning Henry’s arms in his hug.

 

Colt turned the photo to his father.

“Hey dad, have you ever seen this photo before?”

His father and brother both turned to look.

Reid snickered instinctively but didn’t say any more. Henry had been a terrific grandfather to them both, and where he might have made a homo remark if it was just a random photo on the internet, it was too disrespectful for a man that had meant so much to him.

Clay reached out and took the picture and his wife approached. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they looked at the photograph together.

A gentle smile appeared on her face.

“No, I haven’t,” Clay answered.

“Do you know who the other guy is?”

“I can’t be certain but it might be Flynn. They were best friends for years. Until he got killed.”

“How’d he die?”

“Grampa never talked about it much. I think it was still painful to him after all these decades. But I think he was killed by a mugger.”

“They look very close.”

“Yes,” his mother agreed, tenderly stroking the faces of the two in the photo. “It was different times. Men weren’t afraid of showing their affection for each other back then. Looking at the cabin in the background this might have been when your grampa was in the Work Corps.”

“What’s that?”

“It was like Scouts for guys in their teens and early twenties, except they got paid. They did social projects; forestry, camp ground maintenance, clearing up around town. Jobs were hard to come by and it was a good way to keep these boys off the streets.”

Clay handed the photo back to his son.

“Put it back in the box and we can go through all his photos together when we get home.”

Colt took the photo back and sat on the floor with his back against the couch and his knees up staring at the photo as the rest of his family returned to what they were doing.

 

Colt stared deeply at the photo. The more he looked, the more it seemed to him that his grandfather and Flynn were more than just friends. The hug was intimate. Although they were kind of side on, his grandfather was turned so that he was facing the other boy. Also, their cheeks were pressed tightly together in a way that seemed very affectionate.

Colt had taken a few photos with his friends, arms draped around shoulders or wrapped around waists, but they’d never dream of pressing their cheeks together. That was more the behaviour of two people who were dating.

Also, now he looked, Flynn’s left leg was positioned oddly. At first glance it was simply draped between Henry’s thighs, but now he looked closer, it was clear that the back of Henry’s thigh was pressed right into the V of Henry’s groin smooshing against the young man’s genitals.

 

Colt had always been a little closer to his grandpa than Reid or his mother. Maybe closer even than his father. Their grandpa loved nature and he loved doing things with his hands; crafting, repairing, fieldcraft, ranch work. But he was a gentle man, thoughtful, kind. Colt picked up his love of the outdoors from many long hours spent in his grandpa’s company.

 

Colt looked deep into his grandfather’s eyes, trying to read what was going on. His vision blurred momentarily. He reached up to rub his eyes, and when they cleared he was staring at an old camera resting on a fencepost pointing at him.

His grandfather was grinning, full of happiness. He ran back from activating the timer and sat on the bench.

“Quick sit on my lap before the timer runs out.”

His grandfather tugged his waist and Colt found himself sitting on his grandfather’s knee his legs drooping on either side. Henry wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight, and Colt responded in kind.

Henry said, “Look at the camera. Say cheese!”

Colt looked at the camera confused and gave a half smile as his grandfather pressed their cheeks together. Then they heard the shutter click.

Henry turned towards him.

“Flynn, I love you so much.”

Henry kissed him on the cheek.

“And I love your dickie so much as well,” he added with a sparkle of lust in his eye.

Henry reached between Colt’s legs and grasped his genitals through the expanse of fabric. Colt smiled but it wasn’t him that controlled the smile.

Henry kneaded Colt’s genitals and Colt hugged him closer returning the kiss.

“You’re always horned up!” he said in a voice that wasn’t his.

“Me?! I wasn’t the one who bummed YOU four times last night.”

Colt gave a wry grin.

“It was our last night here. We had to finish in style.”

“You can finish me in style any time you like!”

Henry was still idly groping Colt’s genitals.

“Anyway, we can still play when we get back home.”

“Yeah, but it’s not so easy.”

Henry considered Colt’s words.

“Here, get your trousers down, we can have a diddle before we go.”

“I’d love to,” Colt replied, “But I don’t think I could get it up yet. I must have emptied my balls last night. I lost count of how many times I squirted.”

“Eight. I was counting.”

The young men smiled at each other and kissed deeply.

Henry started unbuckling Colt’s belt.

“Then let me bum you. You can have my spunk in your bumhole while we drive home.”

Colt smiled.

“That sounds lovely.”

 

Colt allowed his young grandfather to unbuckle his belt, then the man tugged his trousers down and let them drop around his ankles. He was wearing white cotton boxers. They were plain, unbranded, with a waistband that appeared to be nothing more than a single thick elastic band running through a hem in the thin cotton. Henry pushed them to ground as well and Colt looked down at his genitals. They were strange to him. A plump pair of brown nuts rested against his grandpa’s knee. They neither dangled particularly low nor rode high underneath his cock. His penis was two and a half inches long but on the thick side. It was circumcised but the skin was not cut back brutally far as many boys were nowadays. The skin stopped in a neat circle, nestling against the rear of his glans. He had a clump of dark pubic hair leading to a short treasure trail on his belly.

“You’ve got such a cute dickie,” Henry repeated, cupping Colt’s balls gently in his hand. “I’m so glad it’s not big like some boys. I bet that would really hurt when you bum me.”

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not,” Colt said.

Henry lifted him off his knee and shoved him onto the bench. Then he dropped to the ground, taking a knee between Colt’s knees.

“What do you think?”

He leaned forwards, lifted Colt’s penis between his thumb and index finger, and sucked it, gently at first, then with much greater suction, stretching it and allowing it to spring back repeatedly as he sucked, kneading it into life with his mouth.

Flynn’s eyes widened, and Colt was not sure if it was Flynn’s reaction or his own.

He exhaled in a serious of tremulous breaths.

“I… I don’t care. Just keep on doing that.”

His penis filled quickly, and in 30 seconds Colt could feel it straining between his legs.

 

Henry stopped sucking and stood up.

“I thought you said you couldn’t get it up?” he asked with an impish grin.

Colt gulped.

“I didn’t know you were going to do THAT!”

Henry stood in profile before Colt. Colt could clearly see a boner tenting the front of his grandfather’s trousers.

He reached up and ran his hand along the ridge, moving from the glans down to the fat balls and then back again.

“You’re not so small. Hard though.”

“You do that to me. Yeah, my dad has a big one too. Sorry.”

“Why?”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“It doesn’t. It’s not sooo thick and if you go slow it’s fine.”

Henry dropped his own trousers and boxers, allowing his cock to spring free,  then sat down again. Colt looked at the pale 8 inches standing like a steel rod between his grandfather’s legs.

Henry said, “Come here and ride my horsey!”

“You’ll have to put spit on me first.”

“I probably won’t need it. I’m so boned for you. Look I’m juicy already.”

Colt looked at his father’s rigid tool. Precum was drooling copiously down the shaft. Then he noticed something he’d never consider before; his grandfather had blonde ginger pubes as he did. Colt’s father and brother had dark hair.

“Do it anyway, just in case.”

Henry smiled and spat on his finger tips, then Colt turned his back and stuck his bottom out. His grandfather parted his cheeks with the fingers of one hand then smeared spit on Colt’s hole with the fingers of the other.

When he was done, he gripped the crests of Colt’s hips and guided him slowly towards his tent-pole. As Colt felt a cock touch his hole for the first time, he felt a shudder go through his body. But it was not the fear of a virgin about to be penetrated for the first time, it was anticipation. This was something he had secretly wanted for two years, but he could never guide the situation with his best friend Marshall, in order to discover if the boy might be interested.

Henry slowly drew the boy down onto his cock, patiently allowing his hole to relax and spread naturally. For Colt it was a unique experience. He’d never considered that his hole would open willingly by taking it slow. Then he felt his sphincter stop resisting, and he was sliding down his grandfather’s pole. He could feel the thick urethra applying extra pressure at the front, as it continued to rise inside him, filling him in a way he’d never imagined. He felt the head brush his prostate and he let out a gasp as a thrill ran through him.

“You drive,” Henry said.

Colt started to bounce on his grandfather’s dick, using it as a personal sex toy. As he bent and straightened his legs, he felt his dick flopping between his thighs. Although it was small on this near-grown man, it was still bigger than his.

Colt bounced faster, finding his stride, and his own cock stiffened. The hard rod bounced up and down, half a beat behind the rhythm of his movements on Henry’s cock. His thighs were burning.

“Oh that’s so nice,” Henry said. “Slow down. I won’t last long at this rate.”

Colt looked over his shoulder and gave his grandfather a mischievous grin. Then he started bouncing as fast as he could. His own cock swang wildly between his legs, like the boom of a small yacht in a hurricane.

Henry started thrusting back violent with his hips, lifting against Colt’s bottom so that he was buried to the balls at the end of each stroke.

“Oh you stinker!” Henry said laughing. “That’s not fair. I… Ahh ahhh ahhhhh!” he groaned.

Colt grinned in satisfaction, amused that he could so easily force Henry to give up his spunk.

Then his own cock was spewing its cream, the spunk flying in wild strands as the head wind-milled in syncopation with his highly energetic fucking. He saw his glistening cream flying left and right, up and down in thin ropes, spraying in a foot-wide circle all around him.

 

Then he was done. He slowed his bouncing then stopped and dismounted quickly. A river of spunk dribbled from his hole. Henry’s face was a picture of disappointment. He would have preferred a slower, more natural cool don and separation. Colt turned and climbed back onto the 8-inch shaft that stood hard as ever in Henry’s lap.

With his grandfather’s cock impaling him, he looked Henry in the eyes lovingly.

“I thought you said you couldn’t?” Henry said grinning and glancing at the fan of cum that was rapidly drying into the dust.

“You make me feel so sexy I can’t not.”

Henry smiled and they embraced, Colt’s stumpy, hard-on trapped between them, and they kissed deeply again.

 

 

Colt could feel his grandfather filling him and it felt good.

He closed his eyes blissfully as his grandfather murmured in his ear.

When he opened them again, he was back in his dead grandfather’s living room. He had a fierce erection. It felt like thirty minutes had passed but his family showed no signs that he’d done anything strange or zoned out.

He looked down at the photo once again. He thought now, that he understood Flynn’s inscrutable expression. It was like Colt was staring out of the photo at himself. He turned the picture. On the back in ink were the words “Me and Flynn, July 11th 1964”. He stared hard at the writing. The word “Flynn” seemed to be written over another word. Colt looked closer trying to make the other word out.

Then he felt as though he as falling from a high place. His vision zoomed in on the letters like an effect in a horror movie. Except it wasn’t fear he felt. His erection was uncomfortably hard. He glanced down at his groin to ensure it was not visible to anyone. To his dismay, his groin was drenched, the canvas a dark witness. His cream had even soaked through his cargo shorts, shining white on top.

He felt as though his asshole was still stretched. He put the photo back in the box, and stood, carefully turning his back to hide his groin from his family. He felt cold liquid running from his hole. He put his hands behind his back to hide it.

“Going to the bathroom, then I’m gonna get some fresh air for ten minutes,” he explained.

“Are you okay?” his mother asked.

“Oh yeah fine thanks mom, I just need a break,” he replied, straining to keep his tone normal.

He gave her a warm smile and walked off to the bathroom, fearful that the cum be visible from the back if he waited much longer.

He closed and locked the door, then dropped his shorts and underwear. His cum soaked genitals looked very similar to Flynn’s. But it was his grandfather’s final murmured words as he had slipped into darkness that were playing through his mind.

“I love you darling. See you again in 50 years.”

 

 


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