It was still early morning when Grandpa was setting off with my parents to take them to the airport. We had loaded the car, hugged and said goodbye, and for the first time that summer I was alone. I had been sharing a room with my cousins who had left the night before, and now my parents were going away for a fortnight to their holiday in the sun. I was feeling a little left out. It would be me and Grandpa for two weeks before I was sent home, and in his cottage in the hills the only entertainment was the hills themselves.
I waved as the car disappeared behind the hedges and went inside. The anxiety of imagined boredom soon gave way to excitable curiosity as I thought of all the things I could do in the next few hours that I hadn't been able to when the house was full. My cock was throbbing, but I didn't want to masturbate immediately. I wanted to do, or find, something to make it more exciting.
Going back into the kitchen there was a dresser where the alcohol was kept. It was always locked, but I had seen my parents taking the key from the top shelf of another cupboard and it wasn't long before I was sniffing the different whiskies and brandies. There were other mysterious looking bottles, some of which had sweet smells and other bitter, but I decided to start with a small slurp from the voluptuous looking cognac bottle. VSOP it said. The innocuous honeyed hue didn't prepare me for the rasping sensation on my tongue and the fire that hit my throat. However, this was definitely naughty, and my cock responded well to the thrill. I rubbed myself through my pants as I took another, smaller, sip.
I took the bottle with me as I set off to take advantage of the run of the house. Next stop would be Grampa's study, though to get in there I would have to find the key which lived somewhere in his bedroom. The door to the bedroom creaked. I would hear it creak each morning as Grandpa made his way to the bathroom at 6am. Then I would hear his piss, like the stream from hosepipe hitting flagstones, which indeed it often was as his spray would often miss the bowl entirely, making the stone floor wet and shiny. Though there was no need to sneak, I trod carefully. There were so many drawers and cupboards where he could keep the key I would have to be methodical. The cupboard nearest the door seemed a sensible place to start. Opening it revealed a rack of well-polished shoes above which was a shelf with odds and ends, a mirror, some keys, and above that hats and scarves on hooks. The discovery of the keys was exciting, but the smell of the leather more so. Grandpa smelled like that, and it made my cock hard to smell the shoes. I dug around, trying not to disturb the order of the things on the shelf but then found myself taking off my shoes and trying on Grampa's. My feet slid around inside them. I took out a scarf and a hat, and putting them both on did my best impression of Grandpa when he was displeased “Michael. Stop that or I shall have to spank you here and now!” He never had spanked me, but he had used that phrase in some embarrassing places when I thought I was long past the age of a spanking.
I always got a hard-on when Grandpa threatened to spank me. Something to do with being naked in public perhaps. Anyway, I moved onto the next cupboard: blazers, suits, his dinner jacket, smart trousers. I picked a grey, heavy woollen suit and lay it on the floor. I had to find a shirt, underwear, a belt. The suit carried a faint whiff of mothballs. I took a sip of the cognac and went to find the rest of my outfit.
The bathroom held some of the necessaries, so there I went. Stripping off my clothes as I went down the corridor, I arrived naked. There was the hair oil which I splashed on my hands and rubbed in as I had seen Grampa do. The aftershave: a little on my face. A stick deodorant which made my armpits burn. Pubic hair had begun to appear around my cock and balls so I dribble some of the hair oil there. It went on cool and I rubbed it in, savouring the sensation. I was ready for some underpants. The laundry basket behind me had, among the shirts and socks, six pairs of dirty pants and two vests. The pants looked like they had been worn for a few days each, judging by the yellow stains around the openings where his leaky cock hung, and the brown streaks at the back. As I inspected them the smells became stronger. The scent of his piss particularly I had to inhale again and again.
I put on the dirtiest pair of underpants, twisting them around so that they were tight around the base of my cock and balls. Another pair was still damp and I rubbed my cock with what piss still remained. I kept the damp pants and put on the others in ways that made the tourniquet around my genitals tighter.
With all of his pants on my balls were stretched and tight, my cock purple, harder than I'd ever known it. I wanted his piss on me. I tried to imagine his cock in the pants, more girth than length with a wrinkled foreskin hiding the bell end. I wanted it surrounded by thick curly grey hair, a swollen scrotum hanging beneath, and piss coming in spurts as he tries to get to the bathroom before he's wet through.
I put on the vests and a pair of socks and smeared my cock with more oil. My foreskin was pulled back so tight that I was sure it would break, and when the urge to piss came I couldn't get my cock to point into the loo. Grabbing the damp pants I held my cock to the layers of underwear and felt the relief of letting go, though it hurt some, then the warmth as the piss soaked through to my skin.
I could still taste the cognac in my mouth but went to get another sip,
Back in the bedroom I put the suit on. No shirt, just the wet underwear and the suit, and pulled back the covers of grampa's bed. There were patches of piss on the bed and his scents started to send me a little crazy. I got onto the bed on my stomach, pushing my cock into the damp patch and inhaling deeply through the pillow. Pushing my cock into positions that made it hurt, but made it feel better than ever too.
I wanted to cum, but I wanted also to make the most of this time, so I slowed the grinding and, taking a pillow as a substitute for grandpa pretended that I was in bed with him, pretending to be asleep but feeling his cock and forcing mine against his leg, having him roll over before starting to piss on me in his sleep. I was holding the pillow tight and pushing my cock into the bed, closing my eyes and dreaming the type of dream that seems so real that it has physical sensation, touch.
My dreams had turned to sleep and thirty minutes had turned to three hours when I was forcefully awoken.
Grandpa was tugging at my shoulder “Michael, what are you doing in my bed?”
Trying to be too cute I said “I'll be up in a minute Gramps”
“Don't Gramps me” the tone was now with some anger “Get up, and out of my bed”
“I'll be a minute Grampa” It didn't work the first time, and it wasn't working this time either. He hauled me up by an armpit and turned me over. My cock, still trapped in the pants sprung up like the surprise girl in the birthday cake and we both looked at it, horrified.
“Michael, what the fuck have you been doing in my bed?” now he was angry and shouting “Get those trousers off. Get that jacket off. Get out of my sight”. He was pulling the trousers from the ankles and the difference in our waist sizes meant they slipped off easily. “These are soaked with piss Michael, soaked!” He man-handled me out of the jacket so that I was there, naked but for five pairs of his dirty pants, soaked in my piss and stinking of his hair oil. My erection had not diminished in the slightest because of the tourniquet effect of the underpants. “Are you enjoying this Michael?” He was pointing at my erection. “Are you?” I was silent, tears were starting to roll down my cheeks. “I'll bloody show you” The shouting had gone with this last statement, but the anger had reached a new level. His face was flushed red against his white beard and he threw his jacket down on the floor, undid his tie and his top buttons before he unbuckled his belt and whipped it out of the belt holes.
Grandpa's trousers fell to the ground and I sniggered to see he was wearing an adult-sized nappy. “Right Michael, you think it's Okay to piss in my bed and laugh at my incontinence. I was just going to belt you, but you're going to remember this more than a belting. Get up” He took me by the shoulder and, stepping out of his fallen trousers, dragged me through to the bathroom, past my clothes that I had discarded in the corridor. My balls were aching with the cum I hadn't released and though I knew I was about to be punished I needed to get my cock and balls out of the pants. Grandpa seemed to have the same idea and putting his hand inside the waistbands of the underpants pulled hard down to pull them off. I yelped as my butt cheeks were revealed but constriction around my cock only tightened. Grandpa seemed confused and tugged again. I let out a short howl.
“I want you to get those off and get this on” Grandpa undid his nappy and threw it on the floor in front of me. Piss dripped from it onto the floor.
I tried to get my cock back through the hole of the first pair or pants but it was so hard and swollen I couldn't “Stop playing with it and get those damned pants off Michael, now!”
“I don't want to tear them Grandpa, they are so tight now they're wet and my penis has got so hard it's really difficult” I was still trying to get them off and looking down but I could see that Grandpa was dripping fresh piss onto the floor. His cock was just out of view under his shirt, but the piss was a steady drip, drip, drip. “I don't care how you do it, but I warn you I will not wait”.
I had freed my cock from the first pair and I pushed them to my thighs as I worked on the next pair. I had put these ones on back to front and pulled the fly between my legs so it was tight around the top of the base of my cock. When they slipped down the next pair I had put on the right way round but pulled my cock and balls out of the leg and back in through the front of the fly, then using the waistband to go around and under my balls. Grandpa's dribbling piss continued and as I loosened the penultimate pair of wet pants the pent-up pre-cum started to leak from my engorged cock-end. The relief of getting my cock out might not last long, but for a minute I looked up, mouth open and let out a loud sigh. Grandpa's piss dripping had stopped, but now I could see the head of his cock dangling below the flaps of his shirt. My grandfather's cock. I looked away before he noticed, untangling my raging penis from the last pair of underpants. I pushed the last pair down to my thighs where all the others were bunched up and looked down as pre-cum started to well out of my piss-slit. A long thread of it stretched then dripped to the floor. Grandpa seemed to be watching this too, and as far as I could tell hadn't noticed his own cock getting bigger, the uncircumcised head now pushing forward between the flaps of the shirt.
He moved towards me and yanked the pants down the way he had tried to before, and they hit the floor with a wet slap. “Pick that up and put it on” He pointed to the nappy. It went on with sticky pads which were wet now and useless so I held it in place, tightly, while Grandpa again led me by the shoulder, this time to my bedroom, and my bed. He lifted the covers before pushing me onto it on my back. My bum was in the nappy but the front fell between my legs, revealing my raging hard-on. Grandpa put one knee beside my hip and straddled me.
I think it was only then that he realised he too, had an erection. He put a hairy fist around it, I think to hide it, as if I hadn't seen it, but from my position I could see his balls hanging lower than I had dreamt, and his piss-slit, pointing straight at me. Grampa pulled his fist towards the bell-end of his cock, making the foreskin bunch up a little at the end as a new dribble of piss started to fall onto my stomach. Grampa was looking pained, perhaps at the embarrassment of his erection, or the difficulty in passing urine, but with his eyes closed he pushed on. His legs tensed and de-tensed as the dribble turned into a bit more of a stream. I wanted to get a fist around my cock and rub Grandpa's hot urine into my pubes. Grandpa started to tug on his cock making the piss hit my chest and face in spurts “You will not like this Michael, but you have got to learn”. I wriggled, wanting to get more near my mouth “Quit your struggling son... If it's now... or later... you will get your punishment” He was still far from finished, nearly breathless with fury and I squirmed again. Grandpa moved forward on his knees putting one hand against the wall, the other still trying to milk piss onto me. He couldn't see my face under his shirt, rubbing against his big hard-on as I tried to catch his cock in my mouth, to lick his hairy balls. I had one hand on my cock, holding it tight but moving it slowly. This piss had almost stopped, but Grandpa's hand still milked what few drips were there, the action more exaggerated than before. His hips were moving too when he released his cock and pushed his fingers into my mouth, making sure where it was before pushing his cock in. A shiver went through him and he thrust once or twice before his cum was filling my mouth. Silently and with only a stroke, I finished myself off. Grandpa let out a loud sigh and got to his feet beside the bed. I lay, blissful, grampa's cum on my face, his warm piss scenting the air.
Grampa wobbled a little and sat down on a chair beside my bed. “I'll expect you to clean this up Michael” a long pause “and to have a little more consideration. Of what it is to lose control” another long pause “of one's bladder” “When this is all clean, your punishment is over, but right now go and get me the Whisky from downstairs, and two glasses, and a cigar.”
I got up and went downstairs for the Whisky and glasses, and to his smoking room for a cigar, and matches. He poured one glass and lit his cigar. I watched him, standing beside him, wanting to touch his cock. He tucked one of the glasses between his legs, and flopped his penis into it. “Well son, get this mess cleaned. I'll be watching to make sure you get it right.”