Who’s Your Daddy?


By beeflover2001

When last we left Grandpa and his admirerů

My tongue travels up along his forearm, thick cables of muscle, covered in a thin down of hair. I lick along the veins that run like rivers over the bowling pin shaped arm. I continue along to his tricep muscle. He flexes his arm so that I see thousands of muscle fibers fanning out along his horseshoe, and I'm not really surprised that I can bury my whole face between the edges. My tongue continues to slurp along the brawny arm. He pulls his arm away from me and raises it out level with his shoulder...

I watch fascinated as the thick, flat bicep slowly, ever so slowly, changes shapes and grows thicker and rounder. I feel Grandpa's eyes on me, as I keep my head on his massive chest.

I watch the arm muscle thicken and bulge. As it contracts, the split in the head shows why it's called the biceps. I've seen him flex them before, at the gym, but it seems more intimate now, and even bigger than ever. I stick my tongue out at a little vein that is at the edge between his bicep and triceps. It is just a tributary, merging into another vein. I continue on to the bigger vein, which joins into yet a thicker one.

But he pulls away with a smirk and directs me back to his armpit. I plunge my nose and mouth again into that heady area. He brings his arm down into a side chest pose, surrounding my face with his lat and arm. I feel the weight of his meaty bicep as it solidifies against my head and he squeezes ever so slightly and slowly. I am trapped.

I look up into his eyes as he squeezes a little more and now I'm scared. I've seen this man crush rocks in his bare hands. My skull is no match for his strength.

"Do you trust me, son?" he asks, as he continues to squeeze. I start to resist but my head's going nowhere. I have no answer, but keep struggling. He increases the pressure. "Son," he asks, a little more sternly, "do you trust me?"

I can feel the blood start to pound in my head. I don't know what to say and I'm starting to panic. I reach my hands up to try and pull him off me, but all I manage to do is caress the bulging mound of his biceps. My mouth is wedged in his hairy, sweaty pit and I couldn't speak even if I wanted to. His eyes bore into mine and suddenly I know the answer. I relax, drop my arms and let him squeeze. He continues for a moment, then releases me. I haven't realized I'm crying, but he pulls me up and hugs me close.

"I would never harm you, son," he says kindly, "but I expect you to obey me. Can you do that?"

I don't answer because I don't know. My head is still ringing and my mouth is smoky with the taste of his sweat.

"Well, can you?" he asks again, brow furrowing, holding me at arm's length and making my eyes captive to his own.

Finally, I snivel out, "Yes, Sir." He rewards me with a smile and I am surprised at how good his approval means to me. Then, shockingly, he leans forward and licks the tears from my cheeks.

"You are a good boy," he says, "you just need a little training." Emboldened by his gesture, I stammer out, "Your arms, Sir..." I know he knows what I want but asks, as if to tease me, "What about them?"

"They are so strong and huge. Would you flex them for me again, with my face right there?" He chuckles at my puppy dog eagerness and obliges. "Bam!" he shouts as he powers into a massive flex. His arm explodes into thick muscle. I utter a choking sound. Even though I've been treated to the sight of these massive guns, I'm still stunned. The sheer massiveness of them leaves me panting, as I bend my face to lick his muscle. I know the power that they contain, and that gets my cock hard again.

He allows me a couple of swipes with my tongue, then turns around, again expecting me to follow, which I do, as he heads into the house. I watch his wide-screen back, massive arms swaying as he struts to the house. I can see his ass framed by the jockstrap, through the tattered remains of his sweatpants. No little boy ass, this, but a bull man's beefy haunches. I trot quickly behind.

"Sir?" I ask, as he ushers me through the front door into a cavernous entrance hall. He turns back to me and inclines his head. "Yes?"

I'm suddenly shy at what I'm going to ask and I don't know how to continue.

He frowns at me. "You know, I don't like it when you keep me waiting." Hastily now, I say, "Sir, I haven't been able to control myself and I've cum so many times seeing the display of your raw power. Would it be possible for me to help you get off?"

Grandpa looks pleased. "It is true you came quite a few times, boy," he acknowledges. "I'm delighted that you think it's time I deserve to shoot a load too. " Again, his approval sets me beaming.

He pushes me against the wall, molding his massive body to my smaller one. He sticks his leg between my own, squeezing my crotch against his pillar and humping his own against my hip. I reach around his thick lats and hold onto them tight, looking up into his craggy, yet still handsome face. He lowers his head to mine; our faces are a few inches apart.

He kisses me and I'm transported somewhere beyond my body, as his lips press against my own and I feel my very essence get sucked up by this mighty man. His tongue enters my mouth and mine is pushed back by the assault of his tongue. I know it's surrender Grandpa wants and I willingly submit to him.

He reaches his own massive arms around my body and holds me tightly. I feel constricted, yet safe within his grasp. He takes control of my body, just as he's taken control of my mouth. Even though I've seen how he can crush boulders into dust, I feel safe, yet excited, knowing that if he wanted to, he could crush my bones to dust as well.

Grandpa reaches for my t-shirt and rips it off me, then does the same to my cum-soaked shorts. "Time to get rid of these," he says. I'm so hard again, it hurts, and even though I'm naked in front of him, I've never felt so protected. My dick, as it's been since we met, is stiff as a pipe.

"Please, Sir, may I undress you now?" I ask, not that there's much left, just his sweats and jock.

He nods. I kneel before him and reach for the waistband, pulling it down. "Oh son," he says, almost as an afterthought, "you can't touch my dick yet."

I slowly pull down the sweaty jock, soaked with his own pre-cum, careful not to touch the thick, stiff rod that soon bobs free of the cotton. A massive mushroom head, angry purple, waves in front of my face. I had always thought "beer-can-thick" was just an expression, but here it is, waving in my face. I see that the shaft is as hard and veiny as his arms, and I moan and hyperventilate.

Grandpa reaches a beefy hand down to my head and intertwines his fingers in my hair. I look straight at the head of his dick, which is oozing a lot, and stick out my tongue...

"Balls first," he laughs, as he angles my face down. I see the low-hanging ball sac, contained in grey pubic hair, and open my mouth. They're too big for me to fit both in my mouth at the same time, but I'm going to give it the old college try. I take first the left ball, then try to maneuver my mouth to include the right. No dice. I have to be content with licking and sucking on them one after the other.

I grab onto his massive thighs to maintain my balance, and he instinctively flexes them. Little grunts escape from my throat. They're so huge and hard and I threaten to pop yet another load. I look up to see what effect my mouth is having on my god. HE looks down, and smiles, and starts to buck his hips slightly.

"Yeah, boy, that feels good," he grunts. " A nice way to finish off a long day's workout."

He allows me to work on his balls for quite some time, until they're so wet with my spit that they shine. "You have permission to work on my dick now," he says finally.

My eyes are fixed on the huge pole bobbing above me. I let go of his right ball and lick along the veiny shaft, tracing along the rock hard cock to the bulbous head. He's dribbling pre-cum in a steady stream. Then opening as wide as I can, I begin to take his monster dick into my mouth.

"That's right, boy, nice and easy. This is a whole lotta manmeat for you."

I take a deep breath and try to ease the huge shaft down my throat. After a few tries I can get most of it down. Then he puts a hand on the back of my head. A hand that can crush iron and it's forcing me down all the way down on his cock, till I can feel my chin against his ball sac.

I inhale deeply through my nose the masculine scent of his pubes. He begins to pull me off and I realize again he is in control and he will dictate how I get him off.

"Just keep your mouth open, son," he orders in that quiet tone of voice I've come to equate with his authority. I widen my mouth, and take a deep breath. He puts his other hand on the side of my head and pulls me back down onto his cock.

He starts fucking my face, but it's with a gentleness that belies his fantastic power. I'm completely helpless, given his strength. I snort, trying to keep from suffocating on his thick dick, holding onto his thighs to keep upright. He pulls me back to let me take another breath before impaling my mouth on his dick again. My own cock is so hard that it's probably stiffer than the plate that he crushed earlier that day.

"Pull on my balls, son," he orders. I immediately do as I'm told, grabbing hold of the bull-sized ball sac. "Oh, yeah, that's it," he moans. "Make Daddy feel good." I tug down and back, squeezing as hard as I can, but knowing my strength is nothing compared to his.

I'm huffing and puffing as Grandpa starts humping my face with frenzy, barely pulling back now to let me breathe, and I feel the power of the god I'm servicing.

I look up and see how his muscles are tensing. Nude, Grandpa is even more magnificent. Not some skinny-waisted bodybuilder. This is solid man from top to bottom, with thick, defined muscle all over. Every fiber of muscle is standing out in bold relief.

"Fuck, boy, you're making Daddy feel so good." I want to say how all I want is to make him feel good, but my mouth is full and I don't want to let his cock out of my if he would let me. My jaw is stretched out so far, but I don't care. His pleasure is all that matters to me. If he feels even a tenth of what he's given me, that's a lot! I can tell he's getting close...his horse-sized balls are starting to contract and the pre-cum is flowing freely. He's snorting himself now as he starts to really buck his hips.

"Boy, suck this dick!" he snarls. "You worshipped power and strength today, son. Now get a taste of it. "Grab hold of my dick," he spits out between clenched teeth. He pulls out and I immediately grab hold of his fire hose dick and pump it with all my strength.

I look up and see him in ecstasy, and I plead, " Please, Sir, shoot. Shoot for me."

With a bellow, he obliges. His first volley flies over my head and hits the far wall. Then, I angle his dick down and the next shot hits me square in the face. It feels like someone has slammed his fist into me. I'm afraid that I'll have a bruise tomorrow. Grandpa takes over and starts aiming it all over my body. He cums for what seems like minutes. Finally, he's done and looks down at me and laughs. "Son, you look like you took a shower and forget to rinse off." "Sir, I'm sorry that I didn't take your cum down my throat." I say.

He looks stern for a minute, then takes his finger and wipes some of his cum from my face. I part my lips as he inserts it. "You'll take it when I decide to give it to you," he says.

I nod and suck his finger clean. "I just want to do whatever it is that you want to pleasure yourself, Sir," I say.

He's kind about his orders, just reinforcing that he is the one who decides, and I bow my head, acknowledging his dominance.

I'm on my knees, exhausted by the display of sensual muscularity, but my senior musclegod seems hardly tired at all. I rest my head on his massive thighs. Grandpa pulls me up into a bear hug, trapping my rock hard cock between our bellies. I'm so crazed that I want to start humping, but he hasn't told me to go ahead yet.

"Sir?" "Yes?"

"May I cum again?" I haven't asked permission before, but now I recognize that I should. Something has changed and I know I must get his approval. In response, he squeezes me tighter. I take this as permission and start humping his cinderblock abs like a dog in heat, but I barely manage to get in half a dozen strokes before I'm shooting again.

"Son, you got cum all over me," Grandpa grunts, as he sets me down. "Clean it up." I lean down and start licking along his well-defined six pack. I've cum so many times that there isn't that much to clean up, but I linger over every ridge of his abdominals, even going over to service his obliques. "That'll do, boy," he says, as he pulls me up, then swings me into his arms, cradling me. "Time to get cleaned up."

He takes me upstairs and together we shower. As I soap up his body, I also feel along his muscular body, periodically looking up at his rugged handsome face. I can never get enough of him. He looks back at me, his icy blue eyes boring into mine. I notice the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes. That, the grey hair and the slightly slack skin around his neck are the only things that give away his age.

I can't encircle his back with my arms, because he is so thick, but I run my soapy hands over as much of his body as I can. And of course, my dick is at full-mast. Again. Grandpa notices. "Son, are you going to be walking around with a hard-on all the time you're with me?"

Boldly I say, "Probably!!!"

He laughs, then gets out of the shower, waiting. Hurriedly, I clean myself off, then get out to dry him off. He's so big, he needs a beach towel. I take the towel off the rack and pat him down, feeling all the hard muscle all over again. I'm hard as a rock. Still.

He waits until I've dried off, using the same towel, which turns me on even more, knowing it's been caressing his muscles. Then he looks straight in my eyes and says, "So, son, do you want to see Grandpa work out again?"

"Yes, please," I answer. "Maybe tomorrow," he answers, leading me to his bedroom. "But for tonight, it's time to rest."

Tomorrow? That means he wants me to stay with him, at least for a little while. I feel as lucky as a kid on Christmas morning.

The bedroom is enormous - much like its occupant - and it's bright and open and there's a king-size bed in the middle. Grandpa gets in, pats the space next to him. I jump in and lie down, spooning against his massive physique. Grandpa pulls me closer, letting me mold my body to his and puts his thick right arm around me. I part my legs slightly to let his soft cock nestle between my thighs. "Now that's a good little boy," he murmurs in my ear, swirling his tongue in and out. I melt into him and listen to his steady breathing. I start to doze off, pulling his beefy arm tighter around me, secure that I am safe with this big daddy, knowing that I'm home. •

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