Old Man's Old Man

=== Friendly warning: This series includes incest ===

It all started when my girlfriend broke up with me. It was a pretty big shock - first of all, it was over the phone, and second of all, it came out of nowhere. We started dating in high school and we were together for years, with close to zero problems down the road! Sure, we would bicker here and there, but for the most part, it was just playful banter. We didn't have much to fight about - we had the same opinions on stuff, the same goals in life... Same everything. Mostly. Sure, our bedroom life was what it was after a while of dating, but there isn't exactly anything you can do about that, right?

And third of all, she was my first girlfriend, as well as my first sexual experience. Twenty years old and there was still only one woman I've dated, slept with - even kissed! It wasn't easy coming down from that. At the time, I was feeling so low that I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to even fuck anyone else ever again.

Even a week after the breakup, I wasn't able to talk about anything else. I'm sure my friends and my dad were already sick and tired of me constantly moping around, but I couldn't help myself. We used to spend so much time together that it was hard to find something but her to talk about. It was torture!

After about two weeks since the breakup, I still wasn't well. My dad started growing concerned about me. He tried to make me think of other things, constantly inviting me to go out to the movie theatre, sports games, the gym, even just to watch TV with him, but I just preferred staying in my room. I knew he was worried but I couldn't pretend like things were all right when I knew they weren't.

During the few moments I was able to take my mind off of her, I was horny as hell. Even though our sex life wasn't anything great, it was at least something. Jerking off to porn didn't work for me anymore. So that was my story for a while. Just a bunch of laying around, jerking off, and crying in my room.

Eventually, my dad had enough. One day, when I went down to have breakfast, he was already waiting for me with a fresh cup of coffee.

"Good morning, son," he said, "You slept well?"

I just grunted something in response. I wasn't in the mood to talk - I rarely was those days.

"Of course," he nodded, his tone concerned, "Jeff, I think you should take a vacation. Get out of town for a little bit. You can't keep living like this."

"Spring break is coming, but I don't feel like joining any of my friends," I said, while pouring myself a bowl of cereal, "They're all going to be having fun on the beach or in a city somewhere... I'd probably just spoil it for them."

"Okay," my dad shrugged, "In that case, maybe you should visit your grandpa? Huh? In the countryside?"

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What would I be doing there? It's not like he's that old. He doesn't need any help."

"Maybe just keeping him company. Does that sound so alien?" my dad retorted, "He lives there all alone, I'm sure he'd kill to have someone around for a bit. Plus, there's no internet or anything, and lots of work with the house. It could help you to clear your head."

"Gee," I noted sarcastically, "Lots of work AND no internet? Where do I sign up?"

"What's with that tone, mister?" my dad leered at me. I lowered my gaze.

"Sorry, dad. It's just..."

"I know," he interrupted me, his voice softer, "I know you don't feel like going anywhere right now. But trust me... that man is good with people. He helped me out in ways you couldn't imagine when I felt at my lowest. You should reconsider it."

"Okay dad," I nodded, "I will."

***

Despite the fact that I wasn't sincere when making that promise, I did some thinking. A few days in the countryside might not be a bad idea after all. Some fresh air, peaceful atmosphere, nothing that would make me think of... her. It started sounding like a solid plan in my head.

Dad was born when grandpa was very young. And since I was born when dad was pretty young, that made my grandpa only sixty-five years old. I remembered him as a very friendly person - always smiling, always joking around, telling crazy stories. Everyone in the family loved him. He chose to live on an estate that was a bit far from the city. He bought a house there, which he also took care of alone.

Even though we didn't have a strong relationship, my memories of him were always fond. We didn't have a tradition of talking about stuff like this, but I could imagine him taking my mind off the breakup.

The next morning, I made my decision. I talked to dad and I said that I was going to go with his idea and visit grandpa for spring break. He was ecstatic - he said he was going to call him immediately and arrange everything. I started feeling better already - just the thought of getting away from this all felt very comforting. And it was only a couple of days until the break was supposed to start.

***

The day of my departure finally came. I packed everything I thought I would need for the week. Some books, my headphones, obviously my phone... I knew it wasn't a lot and the pain of having no internet would start showing up real soon, but I figured that would at least make me motivated to hang out with gramps instead of just moping around. I was determined to be productive.

The bus drive took ages. I was looking out of the window and watching the city disappear in the distance. I resisted the urge to play some of the songs that both I and my ex liked. That would just make me feel worse. Just to be sure, I didn't even touch the headphones.

When I finally got off my stop in the middle of nowhere, the sun was high. And man, was it shining. I felt the sweat drops forming on my forehead almost immediately - and I knew I had a good thirty-minute walk ahead of me. I just sighed and went on with it, carrying my backpack which felt so much heavier than it did back in town.

I walked through the deserted land, passing a house only here and there before I finally made it to grandpa's place. A small house with a cute little porch and two stories. There was a garden in the back and I knew that there was also a pond together with a small grove only a few minutes by car from here - all of that belonged to my grandfather. I could see the nearest neighbor houses, but they were pretty far - the place provided lots and lots of privacy. Everything was quiet, aside from the screeches of a few birds in the sky. It felt relaxing just to look at it.

I walked to the front door, completely drenched in sweat, and rang the doorbell. At first, nobody was answering so I rang again. Then, I heard loud footsteps, and finally, the door opened, with my grandfather in it - half-naked!

I recognized the bright, blue eyes and his signature smile immediately. Back in the day, he used to wear his snowy white hair a little longer but it seemed like nowadays he just cut it short with a trimmer. His facial hair, also white, was just a tiny bit longer than that. He had big, broad shoulders and his chest and arms reminded me more of an MMA wrestler than of a kind grandfather - it seemed that working around the house has treated him very well. He couldn't hide the slight beer belly that was forming on his stomach though, together with a happy trail of white hair going all the way down. He was hairy all over - I could tell because the only thing he was wearing was a pair of white briefs!

"Grandpa!" I exclaimed in shock and looked away, "Hello? Could you put on some clothes? It's not like this is a surprise visit!"

He let out a booming laugh when he saw my shock but didn't bother covering anything.

"Nice to see you too, sport!" he said with that joyful deep voice I remembered so well, "Looks like you went with the opposite strategy, huh? Flannel shirt, in hundred-degree weather. Solid idea."

"Ugh," I rolled my eyes, which I was already sure I would be doing a lot during this visit, "Yeah, you have a point about that. Got a shower here? Or do you take baths in the pond, together with the forest animals?"

"Yeah, that's what I usually do," he replied with a friendly tone, "The shower on the second floor was installed just for your majesty. Go ahead. Make yourself at home."

I took advantage of that offer and went in before being cooked by the sun anymore. Of course, being inside didn't help so much because as good as my grandfather's house looked from the inside (he spent most of his time renovating and I had to admit that it showed), the inside wasn't so modern. Which meant no AC. That was something I forgot to consider when I was packing my clothes - mostly long-sleeved shirts and jeans.

In the shower, I turned the water to ice cold and sighed as I felt the sweat of the day going down the drain. When I got out, I looked at my flannel shirt and pants carelessly thrown on the floor. I figured that they might as well just stay there. I wasn't used to going around the house naked, especially with gramps around, since I barely knew him. But in this environment, I knew I had to adjust.

When I joined my grandfather downstairs, I was only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. He was just preparing some lemonade for the both of us in the kitchen. I knew that he would comment on my semi-nudity and he didn't disappoint.

"Couldn't find anything nice to wear, huh?" he said, as he was pouring me a glass, "If you want, I can lend you some sweaters. Or a jacket."

"Hilarious. Just as I remember you," I replied dryly, and I took the glass from him, "Thanks. I really needed this."

"Yeah, no biggie, the lemon tree is just outside the house. Help yourself to it if you..."

"No," I interrupted him and looked him in the eyes, "I meant, thanks for having me over. I really appreciate it. It's... not been easy, since..."

All the memories already started flowing back, I couldn't stop them. Fuck, I almost managed to keep her out of my head for a couple of hours. Now, it was all coming back... I wasn't seriously about to cry in front of my grandfather, was I?

Before anything happened, I felt one of his big hands on my shoulders, and the other one pulling my chin up.

"Hey. Champ."

I looked up to him, my eyes glassy. He was looking down at me with a smile. That look of his face so close to mine managed to keep all the waterworks away.

"Your father told me everything. I know you're here to get your mind off her. So we're going to do just that, okay? We're going to do some hard work, sweat like a pair of pigs and just air it all out. All the dirty laundry. No secrets around this house, no shame, nothing like that, all right? It's just us. Trust me, you'll feel better before you know it."

I smiled and nodded.

"Sure, gramps. Thanks."

"You'll probably stop thanking me once you see the amount of work I got cut out for you. Drink up and follow me. We'll start in the attic!"

It turned out most of the floor at the attic was moldy and had to be redone. My grandfather already took care of most of it, but there was still a good chunk that needed to be finished. After he returned from the army, my grandpa worked as a carpenter for years, so he was experienced enough to do all of this on his own. At first, I felt a little stupid trying my best to help him with something I had zero experience with, but he helped me feel secure. He started out giving me small tasks and praised me for every little piece of progress that I made. It might have been a little patronizing, but... I liked it. I also really needed it.

We both dove into the rough work pretty easily and as grandpa promised, we were sweating before we even knew it. Luckily, we brought a bunch of lemonade with us and the work also continued pretty smoothly. I felt good. Good enough to start talking. My grandpa wasn't inquiring about anything. When I was silent, he just kept feeding me stories of his own - stories that I loved. About him and his buds in the army, the pranks they used to pull on their senior officers... and then about his life as a carpenter, all the amazing people he got to know. A good chunk of drinking stories as well. I couldn't help but laugh. Slowly, it became easier and easier to talk about the breakup. And with every second, it felt less emotional and calmer.

The afternoon went by blazingly fast. Even though my whole body was covered in sweat and everything hurt, I felt so energized. When the sun started to go down, gramps looked out of the window and commanded:

"All right, that was enough for the day. Your father probably wouldn't thank me if I let you die of exhaustion. Come, sport, let's have some dinner."

I was afraid that the only thing my grandpa would have was crappy bachelor food, but he surprised me. The beef stew that he made was out of this world, and it felt really good to put something in my stomach after the long day!

"No, not anymore," I said as he was reaching for the ladle to pour me another batch, "It's great! But I'm stuffed. Sorry."

"Hah! No problem, runt, I'll just finish the rest," he said while pouring himself a little more. He was eating like a machine - I guess it took a lot of protein to maintain all those muscles.

"So," I said, as I watched the sun go down the hill behind the window, "What do you usually do during the nights?"

Grandpa shrugged as he responded. His hand wiped the rest of the stew out of his stubble before he continued.

"Usually I have some friends over. We play games, get drunk sometimes... When I'm alone, I usually just read. Or hang out on the porch. The view over there never gets old."

"The view?" I said, confused, "What do you mean? There's nothing out there but hills."

He smirked at me and got out of the chair. His hand gestured at me to follow him, and I did, without another word.

***

"Wow..." I said in awe, while I was sitting in the wicker chair on the porch. Sure, there wasn't so much to see about the hills and the neighboring houses, which were just distant spots of light. But the sky... It was so much different from the city. I had no idea that you were able to see so many stars! It was as if somebody spilled a whole bucket of them up there. It was hypnotizing to look at.

"Something you don't get to see every day at home, isn't that right, city rat?" my grandpa teased me from the other chair. I chuckled.

"I was wondering when these kinds of jokes would start. Come on, our town isn't even that big!"

"It's bigger than this," he responded.

We then sat in silence for a while. It was strange, I can't remember the last time I was outside just in my underwear! But there was nobody around - the neighboring houses were way too far for anyone to make out the details of our bodies. And I was sure they were probably okay with this thing. The fresh air felt good against my skin. I was finally able to relax.

"I almost forgot," my grandpa said, while he reached down for something under the table. He was still in the same attire - I think he was just used not to wear any shirt or pants when he was the only one around. When he got back up, he was holding a bottle of something in one hand and a glass in another. Did he keep his booze under the table on the porch, just like that?

"Another upside of living out here - you don't need to be concerned about thieves," he said, smirking at me, as he undid the cork and sniffed the content, "Mmm... Nothing beats an old scotch. Been waiting for this the whole day."

I watched as he poured a glass for himself and then looked down to see that there was another glass under the table.

"Hey, Gramps," I asked, "You gonna leave me dry over here?"

He paused mid-sip and looked at me. He looked at me with a playfully-strict look.

"I reckon' you still got a few months to go until you're twenty-one, bud."

"Really?" I chuckled, "We're gonna play this game? Come on, Gramps, I've been getting drunk with my friends since high school."

"Okay then. One glass," he said, as he started filling my own, "And not a word to your father."

We clinked our glasses together and then went back to watching the night sky. The scotch felt good and warm as it was passing down my throat, it paired nicely with the view. I understood how this could never get boring. Life here was so... simple. And peaceful.

"So," he said nonchalantly, with his eyes up, "You feelin' better now, old sport?"

I sighed.

"Yeah," I shrugged, "Honestly, yeah. Thanks to you. I mean... I still miss her. There are parts you're gonna miss, obviously."

"Like?" he said, while he sipped his scotch.

I chuckled.

"Like the parts you're not supposed to share with your grandpa."

"I thought I laid the rules loud and clear, son," he told me with a smirk, "No secrets in this house. Don't worry. Everything here stays just between us."

"It's bedroom stuff, gramps," I explained, "Like... it's not so easy to carry things out on your own. You get me?"

It was his time to laugh and nod.

"Oh yeah," he answered, "The hand is good, but it just can't keep up sometimes."

I couldn't believe this was the kind of conversation I was having with my grandpa - but if this was a part of the healing process, then so be it.

"She was really passionate," I thought out loud, "Like... inventive too. Well, at least when we started doing it. We waited until we both turned eighteen and the first two months after that, they were something else. Sometimes, after school, she would just drag me into this alley, and... Uhm..."

I suddenly realized that not only was I disclosing some seriously intimate stuff to my grandfather, but only that my cock was starting to get hard. And I was only wearing my boxer briefs, so it was about to really show under the bright lamp hanging from the wall! My face went red and I crossed my leg over the other one to hide it from my grandfather...

...only to feel his big hand on my leg.

I turned to him with a gasp. He was looking deep into my eyes. He didn't move his hand.

"As I said before," he said, with a serious, calming voice, "No need to be ashamed of anything, sport."

I was frozen in place for a second, but then my body reacted in the way he intended. I slowly opened my legs, showing the large tent that was building up in my black underwear. Even though my legs were already open, his hand didn't move away.

"Grandpa..."

"Tell me more," he said to me, "It was passionate for a few months. But then it started dying out, didn't it?"

I gulped. This situation was taking a turn. Why was my cock still getting harder? Why wasn't I doing something about this? The calm atmosphere, the sound of crickets, nobody around but us... I felt curious.

"Y-Yeah," I stuttered, "She wasn't too big on... blowjobs, for example. I kinda wanted them and she... you know. I don't know. I guess it didn't do much for her."

"Some people can be like that. But there are others that enjoy it..." he said to me, looking so deep into my eyes with that manly face and those firm muscles. His hand started shifting closer to my...

"Grandpa isn't this... Should we be doing... I'm not..."

"Don't think about it," he whispered, "Just enjoy it."

I opened my mouth in shock when I felt my grandfather's hand slip into my underwear and wrap around my cock! Fuck! What the hell were we doing?! I could have swatted his hand away but I just let it happen! I wasn't into men... right? And even if I was... this was my grandfather!

It felt nasty. And wrong. But... good at the same time. So good, better than it had any right to. I needed something else than my hand. And his hand, his warm, calloused hand, which had so many more years of experience doing this than me... it felt better than anything.

His fingers were handling my cock so tenderly. As he was softly pulling my foreskin back and forth, his thumb kept playing with the moist, naked tip of my cock. He knew what he was doing. The response of my body - my cock throbbing even harder now and releasing even more precum into the cloth of my underwear - all that was a signal for him that he was on the right track.