The Old Man's Parting Gift Pt. 02

Taking a deep breath, I reach for the doorbell... but let my arm fall back down. I've been standing in front of the door for five whole minutes now, unable to gather the courage the push the damn button.

On my way home last week, I thought hard and long about what had happened. At the end of the bus ride, I had decided to just forget about the old man's odd behaviour all together. After all, he's at an age where one's behaviour tends to become a tad erratic by default.

He was probably just trying to joke around but got a bit carried away and crossed the line... Well, in the heat of the moment, it did feel like the line had been crossed. Once I had cooled down however, my mindset started shifting slightly.

True, back then I had been mortified but looking back at it, I must confess: the whole thing had actually been quite... exhilarating. Thinking back on it, it wasn't the pressure of my hands that had made my dick grow bigger. I was actually a bit turned on by the situation. I even thought about looking into exhibitionism for a spell but quickly dismissed the idea when I caught my ugly reflection in a window. Nobody in their right mind would want to jerk off to that.

And so my last week of leisure before college unfolded. Unfortunately, leisurely it was not. On the contrary, everyday brought its new share of issues and with them, a new high on my stress meter. Fortunately, I discovered years ago the best way to blow off some steam: masturbation.

That's when things started getting weird.

Every time I would stroke my dick, the touch of the old man's hands exploring my back would come back to me. Sometimes, it felt so real I could actually feel the weight of his fingers on my skin. At first, it was great. It made jerking off feel even better. Soon however, I started remembering more than just his fingers and the memory of his strangely plump dick hanging down his scrawny hips came back to mind. More often than I dare confess.

No matter what kind of porn I was watching, no matter how many flavours of humans where banging each others, no matter how hard they were going at it or how depraved they were acting... Always, the old man would appear in my mind's eyes.

At first, he was an uninvited guest. As days went by however and I kept jerking off and cumming with his dick dangling in the back of my mind, I started getting a taste for it. In fact, after the third day, I was actually looking forward to his visit.

Last night, my newly found obsession reached its climax and I had a wet dream about the old man. Already, I can't remember much of it now. I suspect shame the be the root of my jumbled memory. After all, admitting to yourself you're thirsting after a man older than your grandparents is not that easy of a thing.

What I do remember however, is waking up with a raging boner. Laying in sheets drenched with sweat, I kept my eyes shut tight. In the haze of my rapidly awakening mind, I started masturbating, desperately trying to collate the fragments of my dream before they would vanish for good. I just kept going at it, like a beast in heat... until my tip became so irritated, so raw, that the very act of jerking off became too painful. When I stopped, my belly was covered in thick, white cum even though I had no recollection of actually cumming.

That was less than four hours ago.

And here I am now, starring at the old man's door. Too shy to move a muscle. How are you supposed to look a man in the eyes, knowing you spent the last six days fantasising about his dick while jerking your own?

A clunky noise echoes in the hallway as the elevator suddenly reaches the floor. A lady comes out of it, carrying some grocery bags. I greet her mechanically as she passes by. To my surprise, she frowns back at me and starts walking faster, almost breaking into a run. She slams her door behind her without a glance back.

What's with her?

I take a look around, trying to find out what freaked her out like that. With horror, I realize that I'm standing in the middle of the hallway with a fucking hard-on. Panic rushes through my mind at once. Glancing nervously around, I start frenetically squatting and walking in circles, pulling desperately at my shorts. My erection goes down a little. Not completely but I'm too nervous to stay in the hallway any longer.

What if that lady thinks I'm a pervert and calls the concierge or worst, the police?

In desperation, I put a hand down my pants and rearrange my junk to make my erection less obvious. For the first time in my life, I'm glad to have a small dick... well glad may not be the best way to put it but still. The urgency of the situation having swallowed any trace of my earlier hesitation, I ring the doorbell in haste.

"Come in!" The old man yells through the door, almost instantly. "The door's unlocked!"

Frowning slightly, I reach for the knob. The door does open. I almost jump inside.

"You shouldn't just tell people to come in like that, sir" I say, quickly closing the door behind me. "It's dangerous."

He disregards my concern with a wave of his hand.

"Bah! I'm too old to worry about this kind of things."

Despite the late hour, he's still in his pj's. We shake hands. His is shaking like he spent the morning fingering a snowman.

"Excuse my get-up, sonny. My tremors are just awful today: there's no way I can get my pants on in that state. I asked the nurse to leave the door unlocked when she left, I couldn't handle the keys to save my life right now."

"You sure you're ok, sir? Do you need me to go get something from the pharmacie?"

"Unless they carry the fountain of youth, I'm afraid there is nothing you can get to help me, sonny. That's just one of the many perks of growing old."

I feel bad for him but before I can find the right words to voice my sympathy, his eyes wander to my crotch and I freeze. He doesn't say anything but as he invites me in, I can spot the hint of a smile on his lips... or maybe it's all in my head. I'm having a tough time right now.

Trying to hide my awkwardness by acting cheerful, I get down to work. I've done it so many times by now, I could do the housework with my eyes closed. I ventilate the place, dust the furniture and clean the floors in a well rehearsed choreography.

Meanwhile, the old man goes about his business without casting me a single look. I must admit: I'm a little disappointed by his lack of interest. I wasn't expecting my wet dream to manifest of course but I was a least hoping for a little something. I even go so far as to bent over a couple times when cleaning around him, arching my ass in his direction... but he doesn't take the bait. He doesn't even nimble at it once. I guess I really was just imagining things last time.

"Here's your drink, sir."

I'm holding the glass for him, directing the straw into his mouth. The first time he talked to me all afternoon and it was to ask me to go fetch him some iced tea...

"Thank you, sonny, I needed that." He says sitting back in the couch. "Looks like you're almost done here?"

"I just need to run the washing machine and I'll be done, yes. I'll leave the glass here, sir, if you need my help to drink just call."

"Roger that, sonny!"

Feeling a bit disappointed at how uneventful the day had been, I go fetch the dirty laundry. The box of viagra catches my eyes as soon as I step into the bathroom. Sitting on top of the washbasin, it looks like it was clumsily opened. I notice at once a pill is missing.

I glance back at the old man still sitting in his couch, wondering when he took the blue pill. I met the nurse a couple times before. Her best days are clearly behind her but she still looks kinda cute for her age.

My eyes wander towards the shower corner. I picture the old man standing naked, the nurse washing him. Her hands full of soapy foam are going down the old, skeletal body, slowly reaching for his crotch...but my own hands reach it first. The both of us start stroking it together. It starts growing bigger... and bigger... and bigger... by the time I snap out of it, it had become so big the nurse and I were using our fours hands to jerk it off.

My reflection ins the mirror seems to be judging me.

"I really need to get laid." I sight out loud. "My thoughts are getting fucking weird."

I open the laundry basket and bend over to grab the dirty clothes. Their owner choose this moment to come rushing in at top speed. I stand back up at once, afraid he'd take this opportunity to squeeze my ass again.

"Sorry for startling you, sonny! I was expecting to steal a peek at your good stuff again!"

I force myself to laugh with him. Grudgingly.

"Don't worry, I'm not that big of pervert. I just came in because nature called and at my age, you don't argue with nature."

"I'll give you some privacy then..." I say, quickly gathering the laundry in my arms.

"Actually sonny, I could use a hand here."

I come to a dead stop.

"What do you mean?" I ask suspiciously.

He answers by showing me his hands. They're shaking even more than earlier.

That's weird... I don't actually remember seeing his hands shake all afternoon but his tremors suddenly look worst than when I showed up... Is he doing it on purpose?

"Please sonny, I just need you to pull my pants down a little."

He's wearing pj's, there's no zipper nor buttons... what does he need my help with exactly?

"Come on, sonny! Do you want to see an old man piss himself that bad?"

"No of course, no. It's just that..."

I give up mid-sentence. His face looks like he really is in a hurry.

Kneeling in front of him, I grab his pants on both sides of his hips. Our skins touch as I slide my fingers inside his pants to grab the elastic banc. I feel excitation rising within me. I'm actually looking forward to see his cock again, despite the situation. Licking my lips in spite of myself, I pull down his pants... I stop right after freeing his bush however.

Did he trim his pubes?

I have to fight the urge to touch them to see if they feel as soft as they look.

"What's wrong, sonny?"

"Nothing, sir..." I mumble bashfully, finishing to pull his pants down his mid-thigh in a hurry.

Looking at it from so close, his cock seems even bigger than I remembered.

Maybe it's that bloated because he needs to pee so bad? Shit, why does it look bigger than mine when I'm fully erect?

Realising I'm starring, I quickly look away and try to stand aside but he stops me.

"If it's not asking too much, sonny, would you mind holding it for me? I'm afraid my tremors will make me repaint the walls yellow, you understand?"

I look at him with surprise. He's looking back at me with a smile. It may be my imagination but I notice a glint of something in his eyes. Amusement? This really isn't my thing. I try to find an excuse to get out of it but I notice his fingers trembling. I guess his request isn't that... No, it is weird. But it's not unjustified.

I kneel back down reluctantly.

"Thank you sonny, I knew you'd do it for me."

"Of course, sir. I'm here to help after all."

I tried to sound casual but my voice definitely came off as weird.

After making sure he's close enough from the toilet, I reach for his cock. My arm is trembling slightly as I bashfully glide my fingers under his shaft. I feel my own dick twitching in my pants. Freaking out a little at the idea of getting the most awkward boner ever, I lift his dick in direction of the toilet bowl.

He starts peeing at once, startling me a little. He wasn't lying when he said he was in a hurry. I have to get a firm grip on his dick to avoid it splashing everywhere. I had planed to look elsewhere while he was relieving himself but I have to keep looking to make sure he hits bullseye. I don't want to clean the toilet again today.

Feeling his pee moving through his shaft is definitely a weird sensation... yet not an unpleasant one. The rhythmic contractions reminds me of those felt during ejaculation but stronger. The jet weakens quickly, two more squirts of golden liquid and his dick shuts off in my hand.

The old man sight loudly with relief.

"Christ, that felt so good! I thought my bladder was about to burst!"

"Do you have issues going to the toilet?" I ask, trying to make the situation less awkward.

"No, I just like to hold it in as long as possible. That way when I finally get to release it, it feels like a tiny orgasm. You get what I mean?"

"Ye... yeah, I think so..."

"By the way, thank you for volunteering to wipe it clean."

"Uh?"

"You know: you have to wipe your dick clean after peeing. Otherwise, the last drop ends up in your pants... That is why you're still holding my junk, right sonny?"

I suddenly notice my fingers are still tightly wrapped around his dick. I feel like I just got punched in the stomach. I release my grip at once.

"I'm so sorry sir, I didn't mean to..."

"I said: thank you for volunteering to wipe it clean, sonny."

Under the cheerful tone lays an undeniable order. I look at him completely stunned by the change in his voice. I'm met with his usual friendly, almost fatherly smile... yet, there is something different about his eyes. The shift in the mood is palpable. We gaze into each other eyes for a split second before my submissive nature takes over and I yield.

I grab some toilet paper and reluctantly push it against his tip. I barely stop myself form wincing when i see a little blot of yellow spreads on the paper.

Fucking gross...

I throw the TP in the toilet at once and repeat the process two more times until nothing stains the paper anymore.

"I think it's clean, sir."

I look back at him expectantly, almost like a dog awaiting his reward after fetching the ball.

"Good job, sonny! Now, if you could just pull my pants back on, I'll leave you in peace."

"Uh?"

"My pants, sonny. I need you to put them back on."

I blink a couple times, unable to hide my confusion.

"You want me to pull your pants back on?"

That's it? He really just wanted me to wipe his dick clean? Just wipe it? Was I imagining things again?

"Well yeah... unless you want me to walk around with my bare ass for the rest of the day?"

"N... No, of course no, sir. I'm sorry, I... I misunderstood."

Dying of shame, I pull his pants back on, not without taking a last peek at his dick. I could swear it looks even bigger than before he relieved himself. With a quick thank you, he flushes and leaves the room.

I'm left alone, still kneeling in front of the toilet. My thoughts are running wild. I'm replaying the all scene, dissecting everything that happened, repeating everything that was said... Desperate to justify my sudden arousal.

Why? Why is this old fossile turning me on? He looks like a fucking skeleton... with a beautiful, plump dick. So what if he has a nice dick? Is that really all it takes to make me lose it?

I'm trying to convince myself that I'm not such a cockwhore but the image of his dick popping back in my head non stop is making it pretty hard to do. Almost against my will, my right hand starts stroking my dick through my shorts. I close my eyes and rewind the time five minutes back in the past.

The old man is towering above me, his dick feels heavy in between my shivering fingers.

"I said: thank you for volunteering to wipe it clean, sonny."

His words crack like a whip on my will. My hand reaches for the TP but this time, he stops me.

"You don't need TP for that."

I look back at him in confusion. His fat dick is floating right under my nose, pulsating ominously.

"You've got a tongue, don't you, sonny?"

The old man suddenly calls for me from the living room. I snap out of my fantasy with a mix of shame and regret. He calls for me again and I run to him, realising he must needs my help for something. I take one last glance at the pills of viagra before leaving, wondering who got to enjoy the effect of it.

I find the old man sitting on his couch, a bit abashed. He spilt his drink all over his pants. He apologises as I help him stand up.

"Don't worry about it, sir. At least, it didn't spill on the sofa."

"Yeah, I just did a bullseye on my crotch. Guess there's no wiping it off, gotta put it in the washing machine like that... Unless you feel really thirsty?"

The look on my face makes him burst with laughter.

"You better work on your poker face, sonny. If you keep giving such big reactions every time someone is pulling your leg, the entire college is going to bully you!"

"Well, to be fair, the chances of someone asking me to lap their wet crotch is pretty low... Oh, wipe that smile off your face already! Come here and give me your pants, old man!"

I get on my knees and pull his pants down all the way to his ankles at once.

"Fine, fine, I'll keep my jokes to myself..." he giggles as I help him taking his feet out of the pants one by one. "But can I at least ask you a question?"

"You can ask a second?"

"Why did you take off my underwear with my pants? They were perfectly dry."

I freeze, realizing I'm busy neatly folding his knickers. My heart is about to burst. I keep my eyes fixed on my hands, rattling my brains to find an excuse.

Why did I do that? Why?

"You having a heatstroke, sonny? Your face is bright red."

I look up, ready to plea my innocence when my nose suddenly collides with his dick. I recoil with surprise. He closed the gab between us while I was looking away.

"you're cute when you're shy." The old man murmurs, stroking my cheek gently.

The tremors are all gone but I don't notice it.

"Kids these days are truly something else... I wonder how many dicks you took in your mouth already. Only turned 18 and already you get on your knees faster than a cheap whore at the docks... You know, when I asked you to take my pants down, I was expecting you to just pull them down and then step back. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine you would kneel in front of me like that, glaring at my dick with such obvious thirst..."

He pushes his thumb inside my mouth. I start suckling on it almost instinctively. My eyes are locked into his, stupefied. I feel completely stunned. My dick is throbbing hard.

I knew I wasn't crazy! I knew it!

My hand reaches shyly for his balls. The skin feels weirdly soft despite the wrinkles. Squeezing them gently, I look at him inquisitively.

"I guess a whore like you isn't satisfied with just sucking on a finger, eh sonny?"

His thumb still hooked in my mouth, the old man pushes me back against the couch and stands astride my body. This surprising display of strength turns me on even more. Breathing heavily, I start stroking my own dick through my shorts again. Our eyes are locked into each others. My own lust is reflected back at me. I can feel his balls scrunch up under my fingers.

Finally plucking his thumb out of my mouth, the old man grabs my hair and shove my face into his crotch without ceremony. With a thrill of delight, I breathe in his musc.

"You have no idea how many times I imagined taking your mouth." he whispers, rubbing my face across his junk. "I was literally counting the days before you turned 18... You better not disappoint, sonny."

I can feel his dick growing against my cheek. Sticking my tongue out, I start licking everything I can reach to help his blood flow. Soon, it starts to rise up. Without missing a beat, I slurp it in and quickly deepthroat it before it becomes too big. The old man makes a deep, raspy moan. This boost my confidence. Keeping a tight vacuum around his tip, I start jerking him off. I don't need to hear his moaning to know he enjoys it: his dick is growing bigger and harder fast.