Grandpa D And His Grandsons Ch 25

What a difference a week can make. Last week, I could sit outside in my robe, untied and open, with nothing on underneath. This week it is too cold for that until the morning sun rises to warm the day! So I sat at the kitchen table in a pair of boxers, my dick peeping out through the fly as I drank my cup of coffee with a shot of Baileys, watching the morning news on the portable TV when my phone rang.

"Hey Matt, what's up?" I asked, recognizing his name and number on the screen.

"Good morning, Dad! What's on your agenda today?"

"The usual son. I never know until the sun has risen and the ranch workers tell me what happened overnight. I had planned to work on the engine of the Farmall, but my parts didn't arrive yesterday, so now I don't know. Why? What's on your mind?"

"Michael is with me. We were thinking, since this is our day off together this month and because we had such a good day together the day before yesterday, maybe you and Angel would go with us."

"Where?" I asked.

"At your place. Down at Foggy Bottoms. We were thinking about pond fishing for some of those catfish you stocked Foggy Bottoms with."

Foggy Bottoms is nothing more than a spring-fed pond about five acres between two large hills covered in cactus on rocky terrain. With little sunlight in the early mornings, it usually is foggy in appearance, and, well, it is at the bottom of the hills. Hence, Foggy Bottoms. I do keep it stocked with catfish, however.

"You and Michael are already on your way? At this hour? Damn, it's early! But I suppose we could go. You'll need to call Angel and ask him..."

"We figured you would do that. I mean, he is like your bitch and all. We're sure if you tell him that's what we're doing, then there won't be a problem. We all know you control him, Dad." Matthew had cut me off, and his tone and choice of words surprised and startled me!

"My bitch? I, um, well.."

"Yes, Dad. Your bitch. Angel hasn't had a job in nineteen years, and he suddenly went to work for you, doing shit he has no idea how to do. Angel is your bitch. It's ok to admit it. I mean, so that you know, Michael is my bitch, and he is ok with that!"

I could hear Michael over the phone's speaker say, "Bitch hih? I've got a bitch for you! Right between my legs!"

"Exactly!" Matthew said, laughing, "It's that ass pussy of yours!"

"Fuck you!" Michael shot back!

This particular line of banter was new for the three of us to be engaged in, but it was getting my dick hard and amusing, so I went with it. We were no strangers to hard-core use of profanity words, but ass pussy? I've never heard Matthew say that to his brother before!

"You boys must have eaten your Wheaties this morning! You both sound full of energy!" I said.

No sooner had I made my last statement before the main gates notification went off on my phone and the house monitor.

"Open the gate, Dad, we are here!" Matthew said, his voice echoing through the phone and the intercom to the gate.

Still sitting in my open boxers with my pee-pee peeking out, both boys walked in wearing fishing attire and carrying kolaches and donuts.

Michael said, "We knew you would have hot coffee."

Tamny entered simultaneously, dressed to impress her customers at the Hospital's gift shop, and said, "Dean, get dressed. My goodness, the kids are here. Hello boys. Why are you here?"

They explained their thoughts of us having donuts and fishing together for a day of relaxation, and with air kisses and tiny hugs, she said her goodbyes and breezed out the doorway. We could hear her SUV back out of the garage as we ate a donut, and they poured more coffee.

Having fun and enjoying myself, I stood up, knowing Bruiser was looking out through the open fly of my boxers, and walked to the counter, picked up some napkins, dropped them on the table, and then leaned back on the counter, exposing Bruiser more.

I called Angel's number, told him about the fishing plans and to join us soon, and that the donuts and coffee were in the kitchen.

Hanging up the house phone, I said, "He will be here in just a few minutes. Michelle and the kids are leaving now. He said that sounds like fun to him."

I caught both Matthew and Michael looking at my crotch and knew that my dick intrigued them. They have both seen it a million times, but I had a feeling today they were looking at it differently. I thought my perverted mind was running wild.

"Does that whopper ever stay put away?" Matthew finally asked.

"Why would it? It's the head of the household!" Michael joked.

I suddenly felt self-conscious, a new feeling, so I tucked Bruiser away and said, "I'm getting dressed. You winney watchers are freaking me out!"

I could hear them laughing as I walked away.

When I returned to the kitchen, Angel had arrived and was drinking orange juice and wearing new hunting clothes. His snake boots were nice but not waterproof, and I asked him, "Who does your shopping?" In true Angel fashion, he looked like a model from a magazine advertising hunting, not fishing wear.

Thirty minutes later, after a detour to the old barn to retrieve fishing poles and tackle boxes, we arrived at Foggy Bottoms.

We each took a pole and box and found a spot to drop a line. After almost two and a half hours into fishing, Matthew sent a group text saying, "Mayday. Mayday. Let's meet at the truck."

Once at the truck, Matthew and Michael told Angel and me that because the fish were not biting any better than they were, we should call it a day.

" I need a shower. I smell like fish bait and muddy water", Michael said. "And I'm hungry."

"That's because you walked through the dirty water and fell forward," Matthew said. "You always do dumb shit like that."

"I was trying to save your line, big brother! You cast into the trees like a dumbass!"

"Well, I have a basket full of fish proving I'm the better fisherman!" Matthew said.

"Um, I have a basket of them too..." Angel interjected.

Cutting Angel off, Michael said, "Yeah. All caught by your Daddy!"

Once it was decided we were, indeed, throwing in the towel and stopping our fishing tournament, I asked the boys what they wanted to do next.

Matthew walked to the trunk of an old hollowed-out Oak Tree and stood beside it and unzipped his pants, reached in and brought out his long, flaccid penis, and, holding his shaft, aimed the head of his penis at the tree stump and began pissing.

"What I need is Michael to come and help hold this wood. It should be his job as my little bitch boy!" Matthew said.

"You're little bitch boy? Yeah. No. I need you to shake this one dry!" Michael responded with his banter as he stood next to the truck and pulled out his cock, and began peeing.

"Plus, mine is pretty. Yours is old! Forty years old!" Michael said, laughing.

"Don't knock old! Dad is sixty, and that wooden log can probably choke a bear! Right Angel?" Matthew said, laughing.?

"Whoa! Do not drag me into your peeing penis wetness! I didn't know we were going to have a pissing contest today!" Angel said, holding his hands out in a stop motion.

"Neither did I. But sixty isn't old! That's still young, in my opinion." I said. "So, tell me. What are we doing for the rest of the day?"

"Relaxing. Just taking the day off and having fun, I suppose." Matthew said. "Let's go take that shower and clean up."

"Only to sweat it out in Dad's sauna," Michael said.

We returned to the old barn and cleaned and dressed the fish, then bagged and froze them.

"There is enough here for a fish fry next weekend," Matthew said.

"In the meantime, we smell like dead fish. Literally!" Michael said.

With great anticipation and a secret thrill, I couldn't wait to arrive at the new barn and once again shower with my sons and son-in-law. I was, however, worried about how I would control my hormones and keep my tree stump of a cock from raising to a standing ovation and proudly saying, 'Look at me.'

The showering was once again hot, soapy, splashing good time, with a few towel slaps and jokes about dropping the soap, but once we entered the sauna, the game changed. We had only been in the hot steam room for about fifteen minutes before Matthew, who was once again on the top wooden rung, lying on his back, barely covered by a towel, said, casually as could be, "Michael, my cock is hard. Come up here and blow me."

I couldn't help but instantly look over at Michael to see his reaction, then look up at Matthew. His left hand was slowly stroking his massive lengthy cock, which was standing straight up to full attention. Matthew's right hand was at the base of his cock, cupping his balls. He pulled his foot up towards his hip, raising his knee, showing just how long his manhood is.

As Michael rose to move in between Matthew's legs, stretching out on his stomach so his mouth could enclose around his girthy penis, Matthew said, "Go ahead, Angel. Start blowing Dad's root. I am certain he is hard under that towel that he is attempting to cover himself with."

"Boys..."

"Cut the shit, Dad. Michael saw you two. You sent Angel to get towels, but you followed him! You couldn't blow your nut fast enough! You were right, Angel. We were right there! Well, Michael was anyway."

"Ok, but...."

Again, I was cut off, and Matthew said, "We have been doing this for umpteen years! We paused for a long time, but this isn't anything you ultimately give up.

The way we have it figured, Tyler sucks Jacob, probably fucks him too, and Angel is your bitch. Hell, up until several months ago, you two couldn't stand each other. And now? You all take trips together, and he works alongside you! Yeah. You are fucking him, and we all know it!"

I could not believe how Matthew was able to speak to the three of us in the manner he was while receiving a blow job from his younger brother.

"You are right. However, it didn't take long for Dean to fuck Jacob. I caught Ty and Jacob years ago. I kept their secret. Mainly because Tyler was scared and well..."

Interrupting, Matthew said, "And you let him suck you. Don't worry, I'm not mad. Because I understand. I love fucking my little brother."

Michael lifted his head off of Matthew's penis and said, "You don't mind this ding dong of mine ticketing your prostate either, older brother, and you love my cum."

"I'm not denying that, just stating my point," Matthew said.

I could not move. I had too much information to process, and I was startled. I was shocked. I was scared. I was happy. I was thrilled. I was excited. I was as stiff as a steel rod!

I stood. I turned, dropped the towel, leaned against the wooden wall of the sauna hot box, faced the three men before me, and said, "I don't know what to say. I've wanted this for so long. I have fantasized about this for years. And now that it's, it's, this, well, I don't know what it is or how to react."

Matthew pushed Michael up and off of his cock, swung his legs around, sat up, and said, "Your stiff dick says otherwise. Dad, I looked at your dick for years, hoping mine would grow that big. Michael and I once kept measurements to see how big we were and imagined how hard yours would be. At eighteen and twenty-four, we stroked to your image. No one admires or loves you more than us. I can understand how Tyler feels about you. I feel the same way."

"Dad. What Matthew is trying to say is we understand. I don't know how or why, but we do. For the past two nights, we had been planning our strategy for how today would play out. It didn't exactly go as planned, but here we are."

Angel said, "And now we have much to figure out."

"But no one in this room has a soft dick," Matthew said.