Giving Grandpa a Helping Hand

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This story contains incest storylines. If this is not your thing please go back and choose another story.

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"But I do not want to Dad. I got better things to do." I protested, but my old man was not having any of it. I was the closest family member to where my grandfather lived, and as he was having a summer clear out it was my 'duty' to go and help him.

My grandmother had died about six years ago, my grandfather Ronald was finally not only going through her stuff to clear things out, but the mountains of junk that had accumulated in the house they had shared together for over six-decades. This upcoming long weekend was the weekend this 87-year-old had decided was the best time to get started on his quest to downsize.

I could see my father's point. And do not get me wrong I love my grandfather and family does always come first. It is just I had big plans for this long weekend and instead of carrying out those plans I'd be stuck at an old, outdated house that looked like it hadn't been renovated since electricity was invented, in the heat of another hot Australian summer day.

Nether less when Friday morning came, I was making the 80-kilometre journey to my grandfathers' semi-rural property, which would be my base for the next four days before I would finally be able to escape it on either Monday night or first thing Tuesday morning... the countdown in my head was on.

Following the warm welcoming and leading me to the guest room I'd be staying to drop my bag of clothes, Grandpa Ron explained that he needed me to move some of the boxes from one side of the basement and stack them on the other side in order to help free up space for boxes of stuff as he went through the house.

My weekend of torment was upon us, and it started now. Grandpa departed to continue going through things upstairs and I spent the next couple of hours moving boxes from one side of the garage to the other. Lining them against the backwall and slowly beginning to stack them on top of each other.

With the stagnant heat in the basement building, I slipped my top off as my 22-year-old body became drenched in sweat from the exhaustive activity, the shirt finding a resting spot on the handrail of the stairs that led to the main level of the property.

Slowly the boxes were relocated, and the end was in sight, well at least for the section I was currently working on -- there were many more boxes on the wall beside that also needed to be moved -- when I came across the second or third to last box. The taping on the top had come loose so I reached towards the step for the packing tape I had brought with me to ensure these storage boxes were secured.

The tape was just out of reach, no matter how I repositioned myself, it seemed just mere millimetres from my outstretched arm... then it happened... as I reached the box in my arm lost its balance and fell from my grasp, its contents sprawling onto the concrete floor.

Annoyed with myself I swore... loudly... at myself at the whole situation as I dropped to my knees, turning the box the right way up and beginning to pick up the contents that had fallen. As I picked up the contents one-by-one I turned the upper half of my body back towards the box and noticed a couple of things in the bottom that had managed to not fall out in my clumsiness.

In the bottom of the box were a couple of magazines. Not just any magazines however, these were porno magazines. Adding to that these were not just pornography magazines these were gay porn magazines.

Curiosity overcame me as my hand dug in and pulled the magazines out, thumbing through them, there were guys, there were hard cocks, there were cock tales, there were pictures of guys touching other guys.

"You okay Richard?" Came by grandfather's voice from the top of the stairs.

"Yes Grandpa," I replied.

He had heard my call of frustration and was coming to check on me. I couldn't and didn't want him to catch me looking through his gay porn collection that I had stumbled upon so I dropped them back into the box and quickly grabbed the previous contents of the box that had sprawled across the floor, placing them in the box and taping it up before I could get busted.

It would be a couple of hours later, the sun long gone down, when my grandfather and I would call it quits for the day. As he cooked a couple of steaks on the barbeque, I went upstairs into the bathroom to have a quick shower to wash the days' worth of sweat from my body.

While rubbing the soap all over my body I started to get aroused, and soon my mind was thinking back to the magazines I had discovered earlier in the day.

For me I had been bi-sexual for years, standing at just over six-foot-tall I had an average body, my brown hair always cut and kept tidy where over the past few years I had discovered my sexuality and my oral fetish.

I pictured the guys in the magazines, their cocks and what it would be like on my knees sucking on them, my mind began to race through the cock tales and before I knew it my knees were buckling and I was arching backwards to rest of the wall as wave after wave of cum emptied from my balls and joined the water circling -- before eventually -- disappearing down the drain.

Throwing my boxer shorts on for 'modesty' I joined my grandfather in the living room where we threw on some television and ate our steak, chips, and salad. After taking the plates to the kitchen sink upon finishing I returned and continued watching the show we were in the middle of watching.

As another round of advertisements started my mind started wandering to over things. For the first time the question popped into my head -- why would my grandfather Ron have gay porn magazines?

I was going to ask him. In fact, I looked across to him a couple times and opened my mouth, but words did not come out. He would sense me looking and his eyes would, for a split second, contact mine before I'd divert mine back to the screen.

"Okay what?" he finally asked after what must have been the 100th time of getting caught glancing at him.

"Nothing Grandpa," I replied, again my eyes turning towards the screen.

"Obviously there's something, you've been looking quite confused over there all night."

"It is just... I found something today, Grandpa," I started to explain, my mind still searching for the right way to word what I wanted to know. "Some magazines," I said.

"Oh yes, your Nan, every damn week buying those craft magazines with her shopping. Do you think she ever did one single craft out of there?" he attempted to explain.

"Um... no grandpa. I am talking about other magazines." I interjected. He stopped speaking immediately, his face developing a contorted look, almost one of fear. "Gay magazines."

"I... um..." Grandpa looked shocked, lost, and confused at this being discovered.

"There was a time I ... look sometimes.... No, I mean... sometimes I get urges and was curious about them at some stage," he finally stammered in response.

"Did you ever act on them?" I asked curiously.

"Once or twice, but never behind your grandmothers back," he proclaimed in response. "I just had to do it here, as what happened in the house stayed in the house and she knew the secret wouldn't get out."

In my mind I could understand my grandmothers train of thought. It was something her generation would have wasn't into 'all the time' and considering how involved she had always been with local community groups the shame it would've brought for her in the public; especially her inner circle where they had been brought up with different levels of what was and was not acceptable, would've been devastating.

"So, when you tried it once or twice, what do you mean?" I asked. I could see that my grandfather was uncomfortable, and I did not want to amplify the feeling, however, in saying that I was quite curious and if being honest -- quite turned on.

"You really want to know?" Grandpa Ron asked, his demeanour changing slightly as if excited that someone wanted to hear about his experiences.

"Off course Grandpa" I replied.

"Well, I have tried being both a Top and a Bottom to see what position I liked more,"

Grandpa started, the fact he knew all the lingo in the world a surprising turn on.

"What did you find out?" I asked, maybe a little too eager.

"That I enjoyed being a Top more, although would bottom for the right person," he answered my question.

"Surprising," I said, before my mouth could filter the message my head had sent down. My reply seemed to 'surprise' grandpa who looked at me confused.

"What do you mean?" it was his turn to ask questions.

"Oh, just you like to be a Top -- I like to a Bottom. Thought we would both be the same." I replied, deciding to be completely honest with him. He looked a little taken aback with my response.

"What do you mean you like to bottom?" he asked. It was my turn to look confused. I thought it was self-explanatory however it may have just been things, thoughts and ideas flying everywhere that provided my grandfather with the 'dumb' moment.

"I like to suck on a dick and then have it enter me," I said adding the most sarcastic tone I could muster. I glanced towards my grandfather's boxer shorts and saw a tent growing in them. I quickly returned my eye contact to his.

This response seemed to silence him as speaking ceased. The sound from the advert on the television the only thing stopping from total silence.

"Well, it's getting late I best be off to bed," Grandpa said. Breaking the silence that had fallen between us as he stood to his feet and started to make his way from the loungeroom to the master bedroom, "Good night," he called behind him as he disappeared.

As he disappeared a feeling of sadness came over me. Did I say something wrong?

Had I embarrassed him? I hadn't meant to I was just curious. I should go so he can feel comfortable in his own house. Oh My God! Did I do this on purpose so he would ask me to leave, and I could have my weekend back?

So many thoughts were running through my head. I figured primarily I needed to go and apologise. This is his house he can have and do what he wants.

I stood from the seat in the loungeroom I had been relaxing on and made my way down the hallway towards my grandfather's door, I knocked softly knowing he had just said he was going to bed, but there was no response.

Reaching my hand up to the door again I gently pushed it open, hoping the old guy was not asleep and that his door would not creak or wake him. It did not but as I peered my head inside the doorway, I noticed he was not in his bed.

Closing his door quietly I turned back towards the loungeroom and that is when I saw a light coming from the basement. The door was closed over so the light was minimal, but it could faintly be seen -- the reason I truly had not seen when I was earlier walking towards his room to apologise.

I opened the door to the basement and took the steps down there, sure enough there was Grandpa Ron his back turned to me as I walked down the stairs, he was looking down at something; what I could not see.

"There you are," I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs. Grandpa Ron froze and turned towards me, his seven-inch penis out of the fly of the boxer shorts, and in his hand an iPad. Clearly visible on the screen was a young guy on his knees sucking the cock of an older guy.

"Shit Richard," Grandpa Ron said. His hand, which moments earlier had been beating his own rod, first flying in the air before trying to reach across and press the button to turn the iPad off. In his panic all he was able to do was make the video disappear the sound of the slurping, the gagging could still be heard through the device's inbuilt speakers.

As his hand then went back towards the iPad in an attempt to unlock it and open the video to close it properly my eyes couldn't help but look back at his shaft, the circumcised shaft providing a nice purple head that looked so plump and round.

Oh My God! I screamed internally to myself. Really what was I thinking? This was my

grandfather. But my find of magazines, our talk earlier, and now catching him masturbating to gay porn this was an old horny guy with a nice cock -- just my type.

His shaking and panicked finger print finally unlocking the iPad he quickly clicked on the Safari web browser icon where his video was playing on, the sound of sucking filling the basement, his finger furiously clicked the video button to bring up the ability to skip back, forward or pause, his finger hit pause quicker than any finger has pressed the button on shows like 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire', the sounds coming to an immediate end.

Satisfied that his video had now been completely stopped his eyes quickly went from the screen towards mine to offer some sort of excuse or explanation as to what he was doing. Only he was surprised to realise that his eyes did not meet mine when he attempted to look at me.

To meet my eyes, he had to direct his eyes downwards, to where my oral fixation slut side had kicked in and I was on my knees slowly reaching out towards this nice older cock with the delicious looking head and beautiful piss slit.

"Richard we can't," he said upon the surprise and shock wearing off and taking a mini step backwards while looking at me.

"Dad said I had to help you with whatever you needed. No questions, no arguing and even sometimes when not asked. So, we must." I said as I placed my hands on his buttocks, the silk fabric of his boxer shorts the only thing stopping full skin contact and pulled him towards me -- opening my mouth and sliding my mouth over his dick.

At first he attempted to resist, pulling himself back against my grasp, but as my tongue began swirling over the head of his manhood and the walls of my cheeks locked on his flesh as my lips clamped down his resistance died down and soon he had his eyes closed, his head tilted backwards and slowly thrusting his hips forward burying himself into me a little more with each movement forward he made.

"Oh shit, Richard its been so long," Grandpa Ron spoke as he thrust his hips forward.

"Mmm-hmpf" was all I could muster as the head of my grandfather's cock again made its way down my throat.

"You're really good at sucking cock Richard, really good," he spoke his thrusting getting harder, I could tell all this dirty talk was a turn on for him. Honestly it was a turn on for me as well, It is hard to explain and I know many wont believe if I tried.

But I had always been turned on by older men. A good 80% of my experiences had been with older men. Adding to the whole scenario the entire 'incest' taboo nature of the situation and the entire slutty scenario of catching some guy masturbating then 'giving him a hand'. I was loving this.

Which is why it was no surprise I found myself moving my head forward in time with each of his hip thrusts, feeling the entire length of his shaft as it slid down my throat hitting its furthest point in my throat, his body weight leaning forward until his ball sack hit my chin before he would withdraw it.

His ball sack was hitting my chin. My grandfathers ball sack. The same ball sack that produced my father was now banging against my chin.

"Oh Richard, I'm going to cum." He repeated three or four times, each time thrusting his cock what somehow felt further down my throat each time. I reached my hand up and took both of his balls into my hand, squeezing them gently and massaging them.

Then it happened.

With a roar he thrust into my throat, his sack against my chin, and he began to shudder and shake, I felt a short spit then a whole mouthful of warm cum, I began to swallow as his ball sack unloaded his built-up load down my throat.

I continued to suck well after the last drops escaped their stranglehold, the old mans dick began to go limp before it eventually slipped from my mouth and like a turtle who considers itself under threat it disappeared into the white bush of pubic hair, like a warm comfort blanket.

"Richard, we shouldn't have done that," Grandpa Ron said as I stood to my feet. The feeling of shame and embarrassment crossing over me. You may even say a short wave of guilt for what I had done.

"I'm sorry Grandpa, I was just trying to help," I replied, the emotions in my mind racing with all different thoughts and struggling to collect itself.

"Oh, you helped, we just shouldn't have," he said, attempting to reassure me by reaching out and placing his hand on my shoulder. I turned my head to look at where he had placed it.

It was at that moment my mind had a lightbulb moment of its own.

"But I wanted to," I said as I opened my mouth and took his closest finger, his thumb, into my mouth as I looked him in the eyes and began to gently suck on it.

Grandpa Ron pulled his finger out of my mouth after initially closing his eyes and letting out a soft moan.

"We have a lot more work to do," he said as he turned and retired to his bedroom for the evening.

= = =

The next day was awkward. We did not speak about the night before and Grandpa Ron seemed a little standoffish. In fact, we hardly spoke. Simply he ran through the list of chores he hoped to achieve that day and then we departed our separate ways to check the list off.

Being summer in Australia it was yet another blistering day of heat bearing down on us, any type of reprieve from the heat you would hope for did not work and the sweat was dripping. The flies were being the annoying little buggers they were and continued to fly in and around our faces -- running the real risk of an unintended snack if you spoke or breathed at the wrong time, yet slowly the list was checked off.

"Beer Richard?" Grandpa called from his covered alfresco area as I finished pruning the trees in the backyard, holding up an icy-cold bottle of the liquid ale to indicate what he had said in case I hadn't heard him.

"Five-minutes," I replied as I began to put the tools used throughout the afternoons efforts into his gardening shed. Wiping my forehead clear of sweat, but truly just wiping the sweat from my forearm onto my forehead.

Joining Grandpa Ron, who handed me a beer as I sat, was nice. Not only were the chores for the day done but I was concerned that he may have been too embarrassed for me to stay around.

"Great to kick back," I mentioned. "Long day but got a lot of things done, what's on the agenda tomorrow?" I asked.

"Oh, there's one more thing left inside for us to do today but let's have a beer and a break for a minute," he replied.

As we finished our respective drinks and placed the empty bottles on the nearby table Grandpa Ron slapped his thigh.

"Well, no rest for the wicked," he said a grin on his face as he got to his feet. I too got to mine as he led the way into the house and towards his bedroom.

"I want to move your grandmother's closet," he said as we entered the room, pointing to the old fashioned -- which was probably popular back when they brought the house -- closet in the corner.

I followed him into the room and headed towards the corner.

"Actually Richard," he said as I reached my destination. Stopping me in my tracks.

"That was a lie." He continued as I turned towards him. "I have been trying to put the thought out of my head all day, but I cannot, and it's wrong... but... I want to fuck you." He stuttered out, his nerves obvious.

Grandpa Ron was not really one for swearing, and the number of times throughout my life he had pulled me up for it all of this talk that had been coming out of his mouth was surprising and somewhat a turn on. In some, probably delusional, way it showed me he didn't see me as that little boy anymore he saw me as an adult -- and that was an important thing.

"Grandpa, I am here to help you, in everyway." I said as I made may way back towards him, looking him in the eyes I grabbed his neck and kissed him deep. Was this my grandpa? Was this Ron some hot older guy? I did not know what my mind wanted all I knew was I was turned on and I loved the masculine smell that wafted into my nostrils as he parted his lips and our tongues danced together.