Date: Sun, 26 Sep 2021 22:02:29 -0400 From: Josh Milton Subject: Cumming out to my gay, nudist Grampa Part 1 Cumming out to my gay nudist Grampa. Part 1: My cumming out to Grampa and his horny and surprising reaction My grandfather was not surprised to see me when I arrived on the doorstep of his small, white Spanish style home in Wilton Manors, Fort Lauderdale. I was about to ring the doorbell, when his door opened. I'd forgotten how tall the man was. I hadn't seen him in years. My father never wanted to spend much time around him and he always whisked me away from his presence whenever we did see him. But Papa sent me money every year for Christmas and I would send him a card or letter secretly from time to time. A former military man, he kept his full head of gray hair crew-cut and had his signature moustache thick but orderly.. He put his hand on my shoulder, then stroked my face and then he sighed. "Come on in," he turned away from me and I saw him in his bathrobe disappear down the hallway. I shut the door and followed him. "To the left here is a guest bedroom with its own bathroom, " he pointed. "Take a shower then come out for lunch. Are you still a vegetarian?" "Yes, Papa. Still." I used the name I learned to call him until my own father forbade it. "Good. I got some Impossible veggie burgers from Trader Joe's ready to grill. Go clean up and we'll see you in a bit." "How did you know I was coming?" I had to ask as I stood before him in the hallway. "Your father called me. He hasn't called me in years. Told me to tell him if you showed up to send you right back home. He was speaking like a crazy person. So angry at me. At you. Don't know what you did, but we'll talk it over," He tightened the cloth belt around his bathrobe. He reached to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Go, clean up. I'm sure whatever it is will work out." I dragged my army surplus canvas bag with all the belongings I could shove inside it to the guest bedroom. I left the door open and I stripped off. I could tell I stank and I just wanted to wash the whole experience of leaving Tampa off of me. I stood under the hot steaming water for a long time before I reached for the liquid bottle of soap and sponge. I lathered myself from top to bottom, scrubbing myself so hard like I was cleaning every pore. The stress of leaving home had been such a burden that I hadn't felt the need to jack off in a week. But now my long cock was begging to be stroked and my mind went back to my drawings of my fantasies of big penises and my desires to be surrounded by them. I stroked my dick and was ready to cum when I heard Grampa call. "Lunch is ready, Chad, when you are." "Um...ok...be there soon, Papa!" Grampa killed my orgasm. I waited for my erection to subside before leaving the shower. "Chad, I'm having a beer. Want one?" I heard him call. "Um..can I ...sure? Thanks Papa." "I think you need to relax young man." I grabbed a towel, dried off, then took a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and put it on. I tied the bathrobe on me and it felt like a warm fuzzy hug. When I arrived in the bright, white kitchen, Grampa went to the fridge and brought me a honey wheat beer and opened it for me. I thanked him and then took the bottle and drank from it. The label had a funny name "Funky Buddha". It tasted so sweet and refreshing, I just kept drinking it until it was entirely inside me. "Eat," he said as he tucked into his own food. I sat down, ravenous and we both ate and drank in silence for a few minutes. I was so hungry I finished off my veggie burger quickly and the small mound of Kettle Chips he gave me. Grampa only ate half of his and then sat back and his bathrobe opened slightly to reveal his hairy chest. I sat back too and grabbed the beer bottle and took a sip. I belched. "Oops, sorry." He took his bottle and clinked it against mine and winked. "It's okay. Men drink beer and belch. No need to apologize. Chad, I have to be honest with you, and honesty is important to me. In all things. Listen, I'm a nudist, so that's why I'm in a bathrobe right now so late in the morning. Because you're my grandson, I'm covering up. But normally I am naked as soon as I step foot in my front door, in my backyard, on my property, and until I leave it again." "Okay," I felt my cock thicken a little about the idea of being naked all day but also wondered if he would completely disrobe in front of me. He then asked me, "So, why are you here? Tell me the truth." I sat up and cleared my throat. "Well, Papa, I won't lie to you...I'm gay. And Dad doesn't like that. I didn't know where else to go." His eyes opened wide and he stared through me. He crossed his arms and nodded. His robe opened a bit more revealing his hairy belly and thick patches of chest hair. "What did he say to you, Chad, your father the nitwit?" "He wants me to undergo conversion therapy. He says that I can be cured and that there is time and that it wasn't `genetic'. But conversion therapy is cruel and illegal in many places!" "I know, grandson. Conversion therapy is barbaric. Huh. But it is a strange thing to say "Genetic". What did he mean?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "He said in the past that you abandoned him and the family when you came out as gay. But he said that doesn't mean there isn't hope for me to be `cured'." Grampa shook his head. "I see. How did he learn that you are gay?" "He found one of my sketchbooks with my drawings, Papa." I gulped and looked away from him. "What kind of drawings, son?" I cleared my throat. "Tell me, Chad." "Papa...I draw men, naked, and their penises. Mostly cocks and men and homosexual situations that I fantasized about. Some dreams and nightmares I had. I love drawing my fantasies. Do you want to see some of my drawings?" I surprised myself that I asked him. I looked at him directly in the eyes and waited. He stroked his thick moustache. "Well, if you want to share your drawings with me, then yes." "I'll share it with you. And then you can tell me what you think. You can tell me if I am fucked in the head, like my father said." I brought out my large sketchbook from my duffle bag and handed it to him. He drew himself closer to the table, pushed his plate aside and made space for the sketchbook and then started to slowly go through its pages. There was a long silence, and his eyes were wide as he took it all in. "Wow...hmm...Chad. You are really good, son! I didn't know you were so talented. This is quality stuff." Grandpa flicked through my artwork very slowly letting out appreciative grunts. "These images...these desires you are expressing in these drawings...seem so beyond your years. Some of this is kinky gay shit, son," he nodded as he looked me in the eyes. Grampa's robe loosened on him completely as he spread his legs to scratch his balls. "This image here...the young man surrounded by older men...like he's about to be mauled by them." "That's a nightmare I have had many times. Being sexually molested by a group of old men in a dark place, like a basement or in a forest." I said. "You can see the desire in his face. The way he juts his ass out to the group of men and smiles. Like he's teasing them and saying, come and get it. At the same time the rest of his body is withdrawing like he doesn't want it to happen." Grandpa flipped to the next page. "Jesus," he gasped. The drawing was me, you could see it was my face, on my knees, with six cocks touching my face, most of them uncut. Big foreskinned cocks were my passion. "That one is like a recurring dream I have. A good dream. A group of men with really big dicks, slapping my face with them...moaning and groaning until they cum on me and cover my face with their jizz. And then one of them pushes it all into my mouth. They are all uncut because I wish my Dad hadn't insisted I be circumcised." "Incredible," he whispered as he flipped to the next sketch of me kissing a bearded man with cum in our mouths, our tongues licking it from our lips. He turned the page and then stopped at the image of me with my head pushed down in a pile of jockstraps while getting fucked by a stocky man wearing a harness. "That's me and Mr. Ramirez. He was my art teacher and I had the hots for him. Short and a little stocky, a bit mean, with a huge bulge in his pants all the time. He was tough and always stared me down and challenged me," my cock thickened as I remembered Mr. Ramirez. Grampa then pushed back from the table, stood up quickly and turned away from me. He went to the kitchen then came back with a glass of water. His bathrobe fell open fully and I could see he was hard, beautifully erect. His cock, balls, thick jungle of pubes were exactly the kind that I had idolized and dreamt of. And now I saw that he was the very image of my fantasies for so many years. I looked at him, from his crew cut to his sharp grey eyes, his thick moustache and handsome face, his tall physique, and his foreskin hanging thick and low over a plump hard cock. It had to be 8 or 9 inches. "I can understand that these...these kinds of desires would have shocked your Dad. He has never been comfortable with me being gay. He called gay sex an abomination and a sin to my face many times. He hates me for being true to myself and for coming out and divorcing his mother. Although me and your Grandma were never really meant to be together." I could not take my eyes off my grandfather's monster package as he spoke to me. I started to cry a little and had to wipe a tear. "You okay, son?" he asked me. "Yeah..don't worry...Papa...I have this thing, a natural reaction...when I see a really beautiful cock and balls and a man I really desire...I feel a profound ache inside me...I just get so carried away that it strikes me deeply and makes me cry a little...like with joy...not sadness...just joy and awe at the beauty of it and my desire and lust for it. Yours is breathtaking, really the kind of penis and balls I dream of and sketch. And to know that they are attached to you, my own grandfather. I never thought of you sexually before. But now, I don't think I can ever think of you not as my greatest sexual dream. And here you are in front of me. My nudist Papa." "Huh, this is so...unexpected and strange" he responded and nodded. He looked at me in the eyes but then reached down with both his hands and cupped and massaged his genitals in front of me. "I know how you feel, Grandson. It can be overwhelming when you are confronted with something you desire sexually and spiritually so much and have that feeling inside you...like you want to worship men and their beautiful penises. That's why I had to come out. I had never felt the joy with women like the joy I felt in the company of other naked men who were proud of their sexuality. I think the adult male penis and genitalia is the most beautiful thing in all of creation." He said this to me while fondling his thick meat and stroking and stretching his thickening foreskin. "Phew, I did not expect this today," he said as he took his hands off his genitals and straightened his back. He approached the table and sat down. He took a long swig of my Funky Buddha beer. He picked up the sketchbook again. "These remind me of Tom of Finland, Josman, and Etienne drawings...very artistic and powerful." He flipped a page. "My god...this young man in a bathtub being pissed on by this group of men...is that you?" "Another perverted fantasy. It disgusts me, but at the same time, stirs something in me. I'm perverted, right, Papa? " "And are these men priests? They all have a white collar and black shirts." I nodded. "Perverted? Yes it is." he said pointing his finger. "This is a perversion of religion and everything people tell us is bad. Well, this is desire and sexuality. It's personal. Tastes are personal. Have you drank piss before?" He licked his lips and looked at me in the eye as one hand slowly squeezed the tip of his foreskin. "Just my own, to get used to it. But I didn't like it so much. Since I was a kid I loved seeing men piss at urinals and grew to love the smell, but haven't had a chance to drink from the tap. And yes, those are priests. Another fantasy type of mine. I loved being an altar server. Some of the priests were so handsome but yet I knew some of them were really horny a lot of the time." He smiled and nodded at me before returning his gaze to the drawings. "Yes, I remember you sent me pictures of you in your altar boy robe from a midnight mass. I kept that picture and I have it here. Can you explain these drawings to me?" He looked at me, wiped his moustache, licked his lips. He cleared his throat. "Especially this one?" He held up one of my drawings. It was an image of a tall middle-aged man with a moustache, pissing in a urinal with a hard cock and his balls plump and visible. He had a smirk on his face, a serious commanding look in his eyes. In his hand he holds an amulet of a bull. "I dream about meeting a stranger like that. Making eye contact as he exhibits himself doing the most natural and most sexy thing a man can do, piss with cock and balls on proud display in front of another man in a public toilet. He is a Bull Man, a kind of very primal and sexual man, unapologetically sexual and he thinks with his big dick." He turned another page. Now he was nursing his plump cock and balls in one hand while admiring my sketches. "This looks like a Minotaur and is he guiding you into a maze?" his left hand reached up to stroke his right nipple. "Yes, Papa. He's a Minotaur, the Bull Man, from Greek mythology. I picture him like a mentor, a man who will help me discover new sexual experiences, help me get over my fear and disgust of some sex practices, corrupt my remaining innocence and protect me as I do. He guides me through the dark maze of sex and introduces me to more and more profound homosexual experiences." "Holy fuck, son. This is so hard to take in," he said, shaking his head as he looked at me. "And you just turned 16." Grampa broke a sweat and I could see beads on his face. He wiped his face with his free hand and sat back in his chair for a second. He looked down at his now very hard cock then looked up at me. He stood up and removed his bathrobe and let it fall to the floor, turned away, and walked down the hallway. A few moments later he emerged, his thick uncut phallus still leading the way, bouncing up and down as he walked toward me. I licked my lips and let out a gasp of desire and longing. Fuck, I was falling in deep lust for my own grandfather. He walked right up to me and pointed to the pendants he now had around his neck. I gasped. "Holy shit!" I reached up to touch them. One bronze pendant had the head of a Minotaur, the second was a set of cock and balls in bronze, like from an ancient sculpture. I held them with one hand and put another on his chest. "Does this mean you are my bull man, Grampa? How is this possible? Were you the bull man in my dreams?" I could smell him. He smelled of cock and sweat. My own teenage dick was hard, touching his leg as we stood face to face. A slick strand of precum from my knob dripped on him. "My son, I think we don't have any choice. I think He brought us together. They, rather," he touched the bull pendant and the penis pendant, " brought us together." "They?" "Chad, the gods of masculine sexuality and lust are real. They are divine and present and they move the universe. Eros, Phallus, Shiva, Priapus. Divine lust and cock." He pushed his hard cock toward me and I felt it slide up my belly. He put his hand on my shoulder and stepped back. Another strand of precum fell from my knob. "Don't let it fall to the floor, Chad. Scoop up your precum. It's special. Sacred. Don't waste it." I did what he said and looked at him as I rubbed it on my belly. "Grampa, please can I touch your penis? I want to feel your huge genitals in my hand. I want to.." "No," he said, cutting me off. ."No, no, no. That would be incestual and we will not go there. We can't. My grandson cannot touch or suck my cock. That would be wrong." He shook his head as he looked at me. He was masturbating his cock more intently, the thick and loose foreskin gliding back and forth over his knob. I got on my knees and looked up at him. He was like a huge statue before me. "Please Papa. It would make me so happy. I just know that I need to know your cock and sexual power. I feel so deeply that I need to taste you, to feel you. This can't be a coincidence. We're both gay and you see these desires and dreams I have been having." "Chad, son, my beautiful grandson, no..." "I'm glad you find me beautiful, Papa." "Oh my son, when you say that, "Papa", I get a shiver through me and look at this cock of mine. I haven't leaked this much precum in many many years." I reached forward to touch his large wet phallus. He pushed my hand away and stood back. "Good god. I can't believe this has come true, but with my own Grandson? What are the Cock Gods telling us?" "Papa, I love you and now I know, I can't be anywhere else. You are supposed to be my mentor. I see that now. You can teach me so much about gay sex, and so many other things my father could never." "For so many years," he said, "I have prayed that I would find a mentee, a young man to carry on the work I started, to induct and initiate into my beliefs, so that they will live beyond me." Just then, his phone rang. It brusquely awakened both of us from the strange dream-like afternoon we were sharing. Grampa answered the call after four rings and mumbled into it: "Yes, of course, I'll be there. Yes. In 20 minutes. Goodbye. " His large thick dick bobbed up and down but started to lose its vigor. "I have to go," he began. "No, we have to go. You'll come with me. We're going to help our local thrift store that supports LGBTQ folk. They just got a huge shipment in and they are scrambling for volunteers to help unload and organize it all. It will be good for you to get involved and you will meet some friends and acquaintances of mine." "Grampa, I'm so horny right now. So full of lust. We need to talk more. I'm going to explode." "Yes, yes, we do. But know this: we will not have an incestuous relationship. I will not touch my handsome and sexy 16 year old grandson and will not allow you to touch my cock in a sexual manner." Grampa stroked his cock up and down like he wanted to jack off and cum as he said this. "We need to control our instincts, Chad, and work around them. My god, I'm appalled that I have to say this but I will not let you touch my balls, cock, asshole, as much as you want to do that and I will not put my dick in your ass or mouth or touch you, my grandson, in a sexual manner. We cannot do that. We are not fucking rednecks who sleep with their kin. Our attraction to each other is strong, I admit, so strong that it will be difficult to ignore. But, we need to think about the future and what this all means for us. May the Cock Gods guide us who brought you here today!" "What? Cock Gods? What do you mean?" "Get dressed. We leave in five minutes." He turned his back to me and hurried to his bedroom. I was so full of lust and confusion and so very disappointed we had to dress and leave his house. One thing was sure, I would have to find a way to free Grampa of his disgust at us being sexual together. I had to seduce him. I had to shower him with love and submission, do what he wanted, until that moment when he could no longer resist me. A smart plan, or so I thought. Stay tuned for part 2 as Chad invents innovative ways to seduce his Grandfather, and his Grandfather's friends.