Grandpa's kinky ass eating

Terrence has a pretty satisfying sex life with his girlfriend. However, he has learned very early that nothing can make his dick tingle like the touch of an older man’s hand, the older the better! He doesn’t have many opportunities, but when a senior male figure leers at his package and licks his lips, Terrence eagerly follows him anywhere. He never says no.

Now in his early twenties, Terrence is 6 feet 3 inches tall (190.5 cm), but loves to sit on grandpa’s lap and feel the senior hand moving up his leg, hearing a grave voice telling him that they are going to have some special alone-time. “Don’t tell anyone… it’s our little secret!” Grandpa sits in his old leather chair and Terrence proudly stands in front of him, eager to have expert hands rub between his legs in tight faded jeans. “You’re a big boy now, Terry, Grandpa wants to see what you have in your pants.”

Terrence enjoys the usual slap on the butt and the inevitable order to pull down his jeans. Grandpa gaps appreciatively as soon as a big cock springs out right in front of his face. His hands automatically reach out to grasp the throbbing, pulsing pistol. He takes possession of the boy-meat, swirls his tongue around it, soon coaxing a trickle of honey from the succulent pink mushroom. He rubs the sticky goo all over the big hot knob, scoops a drop, licks his finger and yells out how sweet it is. At this point, there’s nothing more Terry likes to hear than a command to produce more nectar, which he does right away.  

The grandson enjoys being led around by his pecker. “I get extremely turned on by being having my fuzzy nuts cradled in grandpa’s palm and hearing how much he wants to see me explode a big creamy load of boy-spunk!” By now, grandpa has pulled his pants down, parading an uncut thick rod. He’s ready to milk his grandson like a cow. Bad boy, naughty boy, nasty boy, horny boy and dirty boy are all terms that pop up in between the sucking cadence. Grandpa feels the tension rising and the volcano ready to shed its larvae. He activates the suction and greedily absorbs the hot juice of his favorite grandson.

Terrence knows that this his only the first round of an unusual sporting match. And why is that? Because grandpa has pretty kinky tastes for his age. “Young man, it’s now your turn to suck my cock while I dip my finger in your ass hole.” Grandpa knows that his grandson is a vegetarian and it is a proven fact that veggie shit doesn’t stink, that it even has a nice flavor. Terrence has the body of a basketball player, tall, strong and flexible, able to position himself to both suck his grandpa and offer him his ass on a silver platter, so to speak.

Grandpa can first kiss and bite Terry’s behind, lick his crack, reach the doughnut and humidify it before inserting his index finger in the gorgeous young ass to scoop out a hint of tasty “peanut butter”. Grandpa is however avidly hungry and wants to tackle a substantial main course. He orders his grandson to shit in the toilet but not to wipe his ass. “Let me do it, you fucking adorable young man!” As a full-fledged vegetarian, Terry poops a lot and it’s always loud. You could imagine that he has a machine gun instead of an ass. Grandpa can hear the feces being blown into the toilet as if the poor commode was under cannon attack.

A parenthesis is needed here to slip a word on coprophagia or the practice of eating your own or another person’s feces. Coprophagia is often a component of the wider term coprophilia, which refers to getting sexual pleasure from the excretion of human feces, whether it’s from its smell, touch, taste or sight. Scat is another term for feces, and scat sex or scat plays is often referred to as scatological pleasure. There is a difference between eating one’s own feces (autocoprophagia) and another’s (allocoprophagia). End of parenthesis.

Grandpa doesn’t eat his own shit because he’s not vegetarian. He’s into allocoprophagia, the other being the one and only sweet young Terry. When his grandson comes back from the bathroom, with a drooling ass, grandpa is eager to empty the appetizing bowl waddling in front of his hungry face. Imagination can be quite vivid, even in the late sixties, so much that the brown dish seems to have the taste of roasted chestnuts or cashews, fried onions or eggplants, sautéed portobello mushrooms or green peppers.

“Is it too late to become a vegetarian? wonders grandpa. I could eat my own shit… No deal, I’m in no way prepared to let go the hottest grandson I have ever had. Roll over, sweetie pie!”