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...