Gay Grandpa Stories Archive

The last appointment! Friday was nearly over at last. This had been a hell of a week, and I was anxious for the weekend to start. I'm a doctor, a urologist to be exact. Yeh, I know what they say, 'he's a dick doc'! My name is Jim Morris, and I'm 53 years old, six feet even, and weigh 172. I've been divorced for almost ten years, and wanted to retire by now, but the divorce decree stopped those plans. And, oh yeh, I love cocks! Figures doesn't it. During my 25 years of practice I estimate that I have conservatively seen at least 15,000 pricks. All sizes, shapes, and colors.



 I picked up the folder of my last patient of the day. I glanced through it quickly looking for the notes my assistant had taken during the telephone interview after booking the appointment. Her notes were readable, a vice I didn't have. Oh shit! A new patient! That meant an extended session as I noted that he needed a consultation and initial exam. Crap! There went any chance of ge...

Colin Young was the future of British politics. Or so he thought, but with some justification as it was the description given to him by one of the leading broadsheet newspapers less than a year ago. He had been an elected member of parliament for six years and was into his second term with a healthy majority and still only 31 years old. He was starting to develop quite the celebrity reputation as well, a burgeoning romance with a famous model got him plenty of publicity while his work in Parliament was starting to get him mentions when talk of future cabinet openings were mentioned. Yes he was a young man going places. Tall, handsome and very sharply dressed he was getting noticed by all the right people and he, himself believed he could well be a Conservative Prime Minister within the next decade. 
 So with all this confidence and his natural bravado, why was he apprehensive about this meeting he was about to have? He couldn't quite put his finger on why there was just something a...

All that summer I spent as much time as I could over at Al's basement. But as fall rolled around I had to begin practicing with the First Baptist youth chior for the Christmas contata. This put a real damper on my free time, so I couldn't get over to Al's very often. I was in a perpetual state of horniness. Around the third week of practice I was given a solo on O' Holy Night which required me to practice on Saturday morning with the youth chior director, Mr. Verner.

 Thomas Verner was retired from the Atlanta Symphony where he played cello. He was about 63 years old and a batchelor. An "old batchelor" as my mother called him. That meant he had never gotten married. Mr. Verner had known me since I was about 6 years old and in the childrens chior.

 He always asked me to do a solo in his productions, and I enjoyed doing it. I loved to sing and was good at it.

 I got to the little annex behind the church where we were to practice at the same time as Mr. Verner...

My name is Tom. I’m a seventeen year-old guy from a small town in England where basically everybody knows each other. My family has been living in this town for over a hundred years, which makes us the oldest family here. My mother is an employee at a slimming centre. She likes her job a lot, as she is basically obsessed with healthy eating and a healthy lifestyle in general. Her name is Alice, she’s 49 years old, and she looks really good for her age. My father is a financial manager at a supermarket chain. He goes by the name of George, he’s 56 years old, and his body is gorgeous. I wouldn’t call him fat, but he’s not too fit either. He’s got a nice beer belly, but his legs and arms are pretty muscular. He is tanned, he has a nice complexion and a lot of body hair. Hair on his arms, hair on his legs, pubic hair, and then there’s the hair on his chest. Oh god. I had obviously seen him naked before, because he’s my dad, for example when he just got out of the shower and I had to take o...

Peter was 45 years old, 6ft with short brown hair and an average build that maybe needed a little work around the mid drift. Women often referred to him as cute which he hated at his age. He would have preferred handsome or at least good looking. Peters dad had never been much for computers and technology. Peter remembered not that long ago his Dad still struggling to set the DVD to record. Imagine his surprise to his dads new found love of computers when Peter turned up at his house. Jack was 69 with a thick head of salt and pepper hair, 510" with a mostly smooth well defined body. He had been very athletic in his youth and still maintained a regular fitness routine. He wished his son had shared a bit more of his sport enthusiasm but he never shown any interest in any kind of sport activity. "I have cameras set up outside the house hooked up to my computer so I can monitor the house, even when not here I can log on and check over the internet connection," his Dad explai...

I really didn't care to go to the cottage much. Now that I was older, it seemed to be more of a chore than anything else. Besides, for the past few years Mom would always have some excuse for staying home which meant that it was always just me and my dad and a few of his cronies. It was the fourth or fifth time this year that we made our way to the cottage and things were always the same. We arrived late and went straight to bed. In the morning, at breakfast, dad told me that I might want to set up the tent down by the boat house and sleep there tonight. He told me that he was getting together with a few of his buddies and they would be up quite late. I knew most of his friends and there were a couple of them that were quite handsome. Dad didn't have any idea of my preference for men over women and I didn't want that to change. So, I agreed and after breakfast I dug out the tent and spent the morning finding a good spot to set up. Once I got the tent set up I decided to go ...