Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2007 21:44:02 -0700
From: Jay Dallas <mr.gency_exit@hotmail.com>
Subject: "A Question For Grandpa"

I had first heard about sex in the fourth grade, while I was taking a leak
in the bathroom, some boys were chuckling and giggling, using words I had
never heard before. In the fifth grade, the teacher made us watch a video
talking about the 'productive organs' or something like that, showing lots
of pictures of the insides of a boy, and the insides of a girl. It was the
most awkward moment of my school life that I could remember, and after the
video had ended and recess began, instead of the usual goings-on of playing
handball or climbing the jungle-gym, the boys just stood off in a shapeless
huddle at one side of the playground not saying a word, and the girls
grazed in their herd at the other end of the field. Even after all that, I
still didn't exactly understand what a 'sex' was, nor where to find or a
vagina, or what to do with it once it is found. I was always embarrassed by
my erections while growing up, whether in public or in the shower, I would
try to think about anything else to make the bulging go away. I had a
sensitive piece down there and didn't like when it rubbed against my jeans,
and I definitely disliked people seeing my stuff trying to poke out of my
pants. It was a normal thing for boys to feel that way, I assumed. My
father and my uncles always made jokes about the 'dick,' the 'pee-pee,' the
'wee-wee,' and other weird names they had for it, and so I grew up with the
belief that it was something to be embarrassed and ashamed about.

I can remember for as far back spending a month out of each summer vacation
with my grandparents on their ranch up in the foothills of Central
California. During my boyhood years, those were my favorite times. For the
rest of the year, I lived in the city with my parents, but when I was out
in the country, I felt like a boy out of one of those adventure stories
where the hero goes wherever and does whatever he wants, explores the
golden mountains and green forests, and 'lives off the fat of the land,'
whatever than means. One of the first things I can remember as a child is
my grandfather giving me a wooden slingshot and learning how to shoot with
it. He told me it used to be his as a kid, but he resized the rubber strips
on it so that I would be able to use it. We used to put up tin cans, and he
would proudly slip smooth, little black rocks into my pockets as I tried to
knock the cans over. Sometimes the sling band would slip out of my hand too
soon and my rocks would go flying everywhere and my grandfather would
whisper in my ear little hints like, "just clutch it a little tighter," and
"don't let go until you are looking at what you're aiming." I spent years
with the slingshot and always practised with grandpa on his ranch, but it
was always difficult to play with my slingshot at home with my parents,
since they did not want me putting out any windows or getting into any
trouble.

During the days when my grandfather worked on the ranch, taking care of the
animals, I would perch myself on a fence, leaning in as close as I could
without falling off, watching him ride his horses, prod cattle, and bark
out orders for the herd to move. He was strong, commanding, and to me, was
the strongest and smartest person in the world. Moments like that always
made me feel that I wanted to grow up and be just like him. When he
finished his work, we would play slingshot, toss horse shoes, race each
other drawing pictures with our note pads and old crippled crayons to see
who could draw faster, or walk down to the river that dipped through a
secret, green valley fifteen minutes from the house.

My grandmother was just as sweet as my mommy; they could have been twins
for all I knew. My mother baked cookies and cupcakes from time to time, but
it seemed like my grandmother always had something delicious to eat. I
spent my childhood swimming in cookies of all sorts of flavours, cupcakes,
cakes, and pies. Grandma always warned me against eating too many sweets,
because if I did I would grow a big belly. I always pointed to grandpa and
I would say, "Grandpa eats sweets all the time, how come he don't have a
big belly?" He would laugh a deep rumble, and explain that because he works
so hard out on the ranch, he can eat as many cookies as he wanted. The
logic in that simply rattled my brain, and I could not understand him at
all.

I never paid that much attention to the way my grandmother looked, because
she sort of looked just like my mom with gray hair and a few more
wrinkles. My grandfather, however, was always fascinating to me. Sometimes
he wore a thick, silver and yellow moustache and looked like a fox, other
times he had a bushy goatee that made him look like a badger, and other
times he grew his face out to a full beard and he looked like a polar
bear. He always wore his flannel shirts buttoned up, leaving just the top
button undone, and little silvery strands of his chest hair would come
poking up curiously. His jeans and coveralls were worn tight, which made me
think he probably didn't get new clothes often, which made sense to me when
I was just a boy; I thought perhaps his mommy just didn't buy him new
clothes anymore.

A few times a week, we would walk to the river down a little rocky path,
then through some soft dirt, behind some sad, droopy looking trees to the
water that was as clear as the sky. The air was always sweet and clean, and
the sound of the wind in the trees seemed to mix seamlessly with the soft
whispering of the rushing water. I never gave it much thought as a younger
boy, since it didn't seem awkward for us to take off our clothes and go for
a swim in the water. We would play around, splash each other, and race from
one bank to the other. Other times we would just lounge and relax, and lay
in the shade with the water up to our noses. When the sixth grade came
along, with all this talk of 'sex' and 'penises' and 'vaginas' and
'producing,' I became more and more shy with grandpa. My summer visit that
year was normal, until the first time we went for a swim.

I was shy and slow in taking off my clothes, though grandpa had jumped out
of his flannel shirt and denim overalls like he normally would, I finally
noticed how different his body looked from mine. His chest was muscular and
proud, and was fuzzy with gold and silver hair like a lion, and his stomach
was hard and rigid, all muscle. His broad shoulders looked like mountains,
and the muscles on his arms were the foothills. His fore arms were just as
furry as his chest. A line of curly hairs led from his chest down the
center of his stomach down to his dick, where there was a thick forest of
gold and silver just like his chest. It started above his dick and ran down
the sides and beneath his stuff. It was like he had two beards. I caught
myself staring, ashamed, but I was fascinated at how different his body was
from mine. My reflection in the water had shocked me, for I had been
growing a lot faster than I realized. I was a lot taller than the last time
I checked, but I was skinny and without much muscle, and I didn't have a
single strand of hair on my body below the top of my head. My eyes were
blue like the sky, just like grandpa. I secretly wished I could look more
like him.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" he called out to me, just before he hit the
water. He noticed I had barely begun to unbutton my shirt. For some reason,
my dick was starting to get hard, and I didn't want him to see. It had
never happened before while we were swimming.

"I... have to pee," I answered back shyly and stood facing a tree for what
seemed like forever, praying for the hard to go away. As I softened up, I
slowly removed my shirt and pants, but left my boxers on. I started towards
the water and my grandpa gave me a puzzled look,

"You forgot your boxers, kiddo," he laughed at me. I'm not sure what had
gotten into me. Perhaps the talk of private parts at school was getting to
me, because I had never been shy about swimming around grandpa before. I
laughed a little and jumped out of them, throwing them behind me. I was
just being silly and overreacting.

It was a normal day; we raced a few times then just sat in the water for a
while. The sun was mean that summer, especially on that day, but the water
was just right. I was just catching my breath when I turned around and
realized I didn't see my grandpa anywhere. I panicked for a second, because
I knew what was about to happen. A moment later, he leaped out of the
water, splashed water, and came up behind me. He grabbed my arm and turned
me around so that we were face to face, and he tackled me into the
water. We laughed and shouted as we wrestled the way we normally do until
his furry dick brushed up against mine. I went wide-eyed and shouted in
fear, and leapt back, ashamed.

I cowered into the shallows and sat with my hands over my private.

"Hey, kid! Now I see something's up. Don't think you can hide it from
grandpa." He caught his breath wading over to me, and I looked up at the
sky, trying not to accidentally catch a glimpse his privates. "Come on and
you tell me what's wrong," he said strongly, putting his arm around my
shoulder. I wasn't closer to anyone else than my grandpa, so I felt I
should talk to him, or I wouldn't have anyone else to talk to. I would
never be able to talk about this kind of stuff with my parents.

"Grandpa," I started to say, my voice shaking, "at school, they keep
talking about sex, and vaginas, and producing, and mastibating." He waited
a moment before letting out a long, deep, "Oooooh," and then chuckled under
his breath.

"Is that all?" he questioned. I blushed a little because he had
laughed. "Son, you're going through something called puberty. It feels very
weird and your body is going to go through some changes, but it's a very
good thing," he said with a reassuring voice, rubbing my shoulder and
pulling me into him.

"Grandpa, why do you have lots of hair and I don't?" I asked.

He chuckled a little again before saying, "Son, I went through puberty a
very, very long time ago."

My breathing started to slow and I fired up another question, "Um, what's a
vagina, and what do you do with it?"

At this he laughed a little louder, "Kiddo, a vagina is something a woman
has. When you wanna have babies, you put your dick in it and have sex-" and
before he could finish his sentence, I shouted, "You do what!?" He laughed
aloud at my reaction. My eyes went wide, and I could not believe what I was
hearing, "So, you stick it in there and then she gets pregnant?"

"That's about right," he laughed. "It takes a little bit of work, but you
do more than just stick it in there. You gotta cum."

"What is... cum?" I asked innocently. At this point, I was finally able to
look at him, and I felt more comfortable as I looked up at him from under
his big strong arm. I watched his sky-colored eyes dodge left and right for
answers as crystaline beads of water dripped from his thick, badger-like
goatee. I could tell he wasn't sure how to answer me.

"Well, son, when you massage your dick, you cum, and it comes out like pee,
but it's different. It feels very, very good," he said softly, trying not
to make eye contact with me. His grip on my shoulder loosened, and I tried
to think hard on it.

"What do you mean it feels good, grandpa?"

"It's something you'll learn when you get older," he answered.

I thought back to a time a few years before when I remember waking up in
the middle of the night for a glass of water. I thought both grandma and
grandpa were asleep in their room until I saw grandpa sitting on the
couch. I peaked around slowly, and wasn't sure if he was feeling ill,
because he was breathing loud and hard, and every few seconds he would make
a faint moaning sound like he was about to throw up. I put my hand on his
shoulder and peaked over and asked if he was okay and was surprised to find
his dick in his hand. He jumped out of surprise and quickly pulled his
pants up and made a "shh" motion towards me. He went back into his room and
I thought nothing of it.

"Grandpa, back then, was you massaging your... dick? Was you gonna cum?" I
asked innocently.

He fell silent for a moment before answering, "I didn't mean ya to
see. That's called masturbating." His eyes turned away from mine, a little
ashamed.

There were so many things I could not understand that the questions just
came pouring out.

"So, grandpa, you and grandma don't have anymore babies, so you don't have
any sex, right?" He jumped a little bit, formulating his answer. I felt his
tremendous muscles over my shoulder shudder as he spoke.

"Well... when a woman gets a certain age, she can't make babies anymore,
but you can still have sex... but when a man get's older, sometimes it's
hard to keep your dick hard."

"Really!?" I shouted in excitement, "it's kind of embarrassing! Sometime's
mine gets hard and I can't make it go away. I can't wait til then!"

He turned to me and looked at me with his deep blue eyes and whispered,
"No, no, no. That's not a good thing. Having a hard dick is good! If you
are not hard, you cannot cum and you cannot have sex."


The sun had moved and the shade of the trees above was shifting; I was
starting to get glare in my eye from the sun, so I put my hand on his leg
to try and lift myself and move, but as I tried to gain my footing, I lost
my balance and started to fall, and my hand somehow slipped into grandpa's
crotch. Out of a nervous reaction, I clenched my hand into a fist and I
suddenly realized I had grabbed on to grandpa's dick, and it was as hard as
a rock. I slipped and tugged on it, pulling it hard, and we both let out a
loud, high pitched yelp. I let go quickly, and with wide eyes, we just
stared at each other.

"Grandpa, I'm sorry! I slipped!" I struggled for words as my dick instantly
became hard. I stood up and the water came up to my waist, but my dick had
slapped upwards against my stomach and was jutting out of the water like a
rock.

He stepped toward me and patted me on the shoulder, "It's alright son, it's
okay." I was on the verge of crying, there was so much I did not
understand. His rough, old hands massaged my shoulder and I was
comforted. "Listen, son, can I tell you something?" he spoke softly. I
nodded, and he said, "It's been a very long time since I've had a hard dick
like this... your grandmother and I haven't had sex for years." I stood
silently, not understanding just what he meant. "Son, I don't get a lot of
chances like this. I can't remember the last time I cummed." I was
terrified and excited at the same time, not sure how to respond. "Would you
like me to show you how to cum?" I nodded slowly. We walked slowly out of
the water, and feeling the waves of coolness brushing past the exposed head
of my dick was too much for me, and my knees started to buckle.

We sat down side by side, and I thought he was going to "mastibate" and let
me see how to do it. He put his open palm around his great, thick dick, and
the more I admired it, the harder and harder I got until it hurt. His dick
stuck out a few inches past the top of his muscular, clenched fist, and was
much more wrinkly then mine. He massaged himself up and down slowly,
moaning like he was about to sneeze. I tried to copy him and put my hand
around my dick, and it felt great. My breaths came out in short, sporadic
heaves, and I could not slow down. Still I could not take my eyes off his
powerful body shuddering as he worked himself with those mannish, hairy
hands of his. I shifted myself over and sat myself on his lap and leaned up
against him the way we used to do when I was much younger.

"Son!" he jumped, and let go of his dick, and it came slapping hard against
my back, "what are you doing!?"

"Grandpa," I muttered softly, "can you do mine for me?" I was embarrassed
and shy, but the thought of grandpa masturbating me seemed more than I
could handle. I leaned back and we sat in silence. His breathing quickened
as the fur on his chest tickled my back, and the hair over his dick danced
around my butt. I felt his great balls and dick shudder and throb hard with
his heart as he tried to back off.

"Son, listen, I was just showing you how to cum, but two men... no! It's
not right!" he shouted with a deep, commanding voice, and I was so scared I
didn't know what to do. Tears started to roll down the side of my face as
he scolded me, and I froze in my place, whimpering and terrified because I
had made a mistake and I did not understand what was wrong.

We sat for another moment before he put his right arm on my shoulder and
softly started to massage me, the way he normally does, but then he did
something different. His right arm came down over my shoulder and he
started to rub my chest. He pulled me into him and rubbed his chest fur
hard into my back, and it felt really good. I could feel his heart
shuddering against my back. Then his left arm came under my left arm, and
he began to rub my tummy, slowly. His chin came over my shoulder and he
rubbed his fuzzy, silver and gold beard along my neck. "I'm sorry," he
whispered softly, "don't you dare tell your grandmother or parents about
this, okay." Before I could answer, the fur from his hand had gently
brushed against the tip of my dick, and I shook, it felt more amazing than
anything I had ever felt before. I could not bring up any words to answer
him once he had opened his great paw of a hand and grasped my dick. His
hands were great and huge, and rough from his work on the ranch, and it
felt unbelievable on my soft, smooth dick. He slipped his bottom two
fingers between my balls and started to massage them while he moved the
foreskin on my dick up past my head, then down again.

His grip on me was nice and soft, and was I moaned louder and louder, I
could not control myself. I was going to pee all over his hands, and I was
afraid of what he was doing to me. Maybe it was wrong, if I shouldn't tell
my grandmother or parents, then it had to be wrong, and suddenly I was
afraid of what was happening.

"I think I'm gonna pee, grandpa, please stop," I managed to cough out
between his strokes, but he started to grumble deeply like a bear. He
moaned a heavy sigh as he pressed his big furry dick hard against my smooth
back and he squeezed my dick hard. It hurt and felt unreal and
beautiful. The muscles in his hand were overwhelming; I thought my dick was
going to break as he squeezed hard. Soon, his soft gentle strokes turned
into punches, and as he gripped harder and harder, he pulled his hand up so
that the very tip of my dick was in the middle of his fist, and then
slammed it hard back into my balls. I moaned in pleasure, and thought I
could have died just then as he jammed my dick into my stomach.

"Grandpa, please stop!" I whispered, shaking, but I could not do anything
to stop him. I did not want to pee all over his hands and I did not want to
get in trouble from my parents or grandma.

"Please, oh god, grandpa, I can't hold it in. Stop it please! Don't do it
anymore!" But as I cried out, moaning with unbelievable pleasure, he pulled
me in harder to his chest and rammed his dick into my back, and I could
feel him shivering with delight. He moaned and rumbled like an earthquake,
and the world became a blur as I closed my eyes. There I was, in his hands
and I wanted him to do anything he wanted with me. He rubbed my chest and
began to lick the back of my neck, tickling me with his bushy beard. His
soft, smooth tongue felt so surprising from such a gruff and rough man. He
slammed my dick into my groin one more time and then loosened his grip, for
a moment, then squeezed hard again. I took a deep breath as he did and
squealed like a pig in surprise.

"Please," I muttered and moaned unable to control the tone in my voice. My
words came out soft and weak, feeble and unheard, "grandpa please... you
can stop now." but he did not hear me. He laid me down on my back and as I
looked up, saw that he was positioning himself on top of me, and we were
belly to belly.

"Shhh," he whispered, "it's okay... I have not done this in years." He was
making me feel so good, I thought I could have died right then and there,
and I wanted to do the same for him. I wanted my grandpa to feel as good as
I did. He lowered himself onto me and I nearly cried feeling his powerful
body touch mine. His hair and fur massaged me as he slipped his bulging,
throbbing dick between my legs. He softly lowered his dick so that it was
massaging my balls, and I instinctively shut my legs tight together. I
looked up into his blue eyes, and he winced for a moment, clenching his
teeth in pain. After a second later, a smile unlike anything I've ever seen
came onto his face, and he hummed in bliss, "Good boy." He lowered his face
down to mine, our eyes locked, and when his lips met mine, I shook in
surprise. He did not say a word, but closed his eyes and began to explore
the inside of my mouth with his tongue. God, how amazing his tongue felt
when he touched me with it. His soft beard rubbed up against my face and it
made me feel joy like I had never felt. I kept my eyes wide open, watching
the beautiful expressions on his face as we kissed, tongues rubbing against
each other, and enjoying him softly massaging his pulsating dick against my
thighs and my balls.

I was trying so hard not to pee but being touched everywhere by grandpa was
pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

"Grandpa, I don't want to get in trouble... please stop it," I mumbled, but
I did not mean it. Whatever he was doing to me felt amazing, and I did not
want him to stop. He started rhythmic humming as he jammed his balls in
between my legs and licked my chest. I moaned even louder, feeling my dick
get lost in his jungle of chest fur. He licked my belly, and softly
caressed his face with my smooth stomach.

"Do you like that, boy?" he whispered softly to me.

"Oh god... grandpa, it feels good... but... please... don't..." I could not
put words together to make sense anymore, I thought my head was going to
explode, I felt so good.

Without warning, he pinned me down, as if we were wrestling, put his arm on
my chest and lowered his face down to my dick. His beard rubbing against my
balls and tip of my dick was more than I could bear. I think I started
crying from the pleasure. I could not move my body and he felt as heavy as
a mountain. My dick slowly slipped into his mouth and I could hardly
contain myself. I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Oh god! Grandpa!" I
could feel his lips clamp around the bottom of my shaft, the tip of my dick
rubbing against the walls of the throat. He put his teeth against my dick
and started to nibble, working his way up. I thought I was going to die.

"Grandpa! You can't do that!" I shouted but I didn't even care about
getting into trouble anymore. I was going to pee in his mouth and it was
going to feel good.

He swung his great, bearish body around and slammed his beast of a dick
hard against my chest, all the while nibbling on my dick, licking my balls,
and massaging my thighs.

"Come on boy," he coached me, "don't just watch mine, work on it!" he
commanded. For the life of me, I grabbed his great cock and rubbed it
softly but quickly, every few seconds licking the tip of it. The skin on it
was surprisingly smooth, but was wrinkly from top to bottom, and the veins
coursed powerfully through his hard like like rivers through a mountain. It
was hot and hard like steel on fire, and I was fascinated. At the same
time, I was scared, I didn't want grandpa to pee on me, but if I did that
too him, I knew he would feel good. I could smell his mannish scent and
sweat dripping from all over; at any other time we would have laughed at
our work day stink and taken a bath to clean up, but this was different, I
loved smelling him like this. His body rumbled, and he pulled my dick out
of his mouth only to say, "just clutch it a little tighter," and so I
did. I squeezed as hard as I could with my little hands and tried to jam it
back up into his stomach. I pulled it up and jammed it down again and
again, and each time, he groaned like it hurt him, but I knew how great it
feel. I grabbed his great, sagging balls covered in fur and tugged down on
them. He yelped like a dog, and I kept doing it until he was whimpering and
coughing out with bliss.

"My god, boy, you're gonna kill me!" he called out, and terrified, I
stopped. "Don't stop," he pleaded, "God if I die, this is how I want to
die." He forced my dick down the back of his throat and it sounded like he
was choking. As he massaged my balls lower and lower, he found the hole of
my ass and played around with his middle finger. I didn't know what he was
doing until he jammed his finger hard up in there and I shouted out in
surprise and pain. It burned like fire until he wriggled his finger around
like a worm in my ass, and my body shook without control. My dick was as
hard as steel and he was nibbling and kissing and sucking and rubbing; this
is what he meant when he said I was gonna kill him. It felt amazing. I
copied him and jammed my middle finger in his ass and he whimpered like I
had never heard him before. His body fell hard onto mine and he sounded
like someone had shot him, but he continued to suck, and I continued to jam
my finger farther and farther up his ass until I felt a soft squishy
spot. I pulled my finger back and then rammed it in hard, and he squealed
like a little boy. The cries of pain and joy from both of us began to flood
the valley as our breathing became heavy and rapid and our hearts raced.

For all I was worth, I squeezed and tugged tightly on his rock hard slab of
meat, working the wrinkles in and out of it, and running my fingers through
his fur, excited by the thought of my young dick in his mouth, having never
been anywhere before, and wondering about all the things he must have done
with his dick all these years he's been alive. I rubbed and tugged on his
balls, and I soon figured out how to make him cry and how to make him
shake. Here was my big strong grandpa, tough and rough, and I knew how to
make him squeal and tremble, and it felt great. He roared like a lion over
and over again, and I screamed out so loud I could not even hear
myself. His body began to tremble as I lost control of myself. I tried as
hard as I could but I could not stop myself from peeing, finally, the
unbearable tension and pain in my dick let lose, and I felt like I died
right then and there. I felt like I was flying up into the clouds and my
eyes watered from the unfamiliar pleasure. His shoved my dick hard into the
back of his mouth and clenched hard with his teeth and he slammed his great
big meat into my mouth, and my head was pinned to the ground. He roared and
bucked like a horse and I sucked and sucked.

Suddenly, his dick was throbbing and he thrashed about like a wild animal
screaming words like, "fuck!" "shit!" and "damn!". He moaned like he was
sick as my mouth became flooded with hot, thick juice, shoving his
beautiful dick so far back into my throat that I could not breath. I could
not stop myself, and at the same moment, my dick throbbed and flooded my
grandpa's mouth with juice, and I screamed like I had never screamed
before. If I had died right then and there, i would not have cared. Ever
little bit of my body felt more bliss then than I could have every
imagined. My arms and legs buckled and my body fell limp as my dick
continued to throb, shooting stuff onto my grandpa's furry face. He gasped
for air and bite down hard on me and I whined like a dog. He lapped up the
juiced that spilled all over my crotch like an animal, and his tongue
against my skin was unforgettable.

He grunted repeatedly as I sucked and sucked and his meat throbbed harder
and harder in my mouth. I coughed and white juice spilled all over my
chest, "I'm cumming!" he shouted, and as his body fell limp and heavy over
mine, I kept his dick in my mouth, sucking every last bit of juice out of
it and feeling his meat soften and loosen up, becoming the furry, wrinkly
dick i was used to seeing. He nursed and licked and massaged my balls and
dick with his tongue until we both fell in exhaustion. He rolled over to me
and pulled me into his arms and looked me in the eye. I put my hand around
his head and massaged his soft, silvery hair.

We smiled and held each other for a long time before he pulled me close and
whispered, "You have any more questions, kiddo?"

"No grandpa," I whispered back to him with a smile, "I think I get it
now. Thank you."

We layed in the dirt with each other, holding tight until we fell asleep,
and did not stir 'til the stars were out in full bloom.

A voice off in the distance called out, "You boys okay?" The banging of a
wooden spoon against a tin pan woke us both, and Granpda jumped up in
surprise. We were still in each other's arms.

"It's grandma!" I sputtered in a panic.

He looked at me and winked, "I'll race you to the water!"

We made a mad dash for the river, and though it was ice cold by night, it
felt good. We quickly cleaned the dried stuff off each other and gargled
the water until we had gotten into a splashing fight. By that time, grandma
had made it into the clearing, shaking a finger at us. "You two have been
out all day! You had me worried sick!" She shouted at us over our
laughter. We stopped and turned to her, and grandpa put his hands in the
air innocently before saying, "What, we was just having some fun."


Written By 'Jay Dallas'
December 12, 2007