My grandmother passed away three years ago at the beginning of spring. Though the death was sudden, it wasn't unexpected. Her body didn't age well; her decrepit skin stretched tightly around fragile bones -- some of which were made of plastic or steel. She was nine years the senior of the man she married back in the early 60's, and lived to the ripe age of 81. With what should have brought my family together, only strained ties remained. Some of my aunts and uncles ceased communication after her final breath, or they raged at one another over who was truly at fault for her "passing too soon."

The person forgotten in all the madness: my grandfather.

Having traveled my own path in life, I didn't think much of the drama that pervaded family affairs. In fact, I actively avoided it. She was gone. No amount of yelling or avoidance was going to change that. But one morning it dawned on me that my grandpa was now all alone within his house deep in the woods. My cousins, aunts, uncles, and even my own mother had forgotten him -- caught up in their own selfish sorrow and loathing that they had abandoned all appreciation for the life he still lived. And with this realization I decided it best to visit him.

To say the least, he was quite overjoyed by my thinking of him. Together we sat at the dining room table and spent several hours drinking coffee and holding long conversations about my grandmother's early childhood in Italy during the Second World War. Dreadfully, however, I had to leave before noon. I promised to be with him all day on the coming Sunday.

And I kept that promise.

When I arrived at about 11 o'clock Sunday morning, I followed him to the living room and found that he had rented several movies from Redbox. The genres consisted of action and drama flicks, but the one that caught my eye was Fifty Shades of Grey. I asked why he chose that one of all the movies Redbox had to offer, and he replied, "I asked the woman in line behind me what films are popular these days." Innocent enough, I suppose.

Fifty Shades was the third film we watched together, and by now the clock was just reaching 4 in the afternoon. I wasn't sure what to expect from my grandpa when the sex scenes would begin, and I was pretty sure he didn't know they were coming. It would be a complete and possibly awkward surprise for him and me both. But then again, I was curious about his reaction.

And a reaction he certainly had.

Though he said nothing and was quite still throughout the sexual encounters taking place on the TV screen, this left my eyes open to catch a glimpse of the throbbing and pushing at the jeans from below his belt. Despite the presence of his granddaughter, he longed for some sexual excitement.

And I wasn't afraid to give him a release.

There wasn't any hesitation in my mind as I touched the hard lump of his manhood, and he didn't stop me from removing the old thing from its fabric prison. My fingers wrapped around the length of the shaft like metal to a magnet, and I stroked him as a pornstar would for that sweet money shot. Before long, I was on my knees before him, nibbling on the tip and taking every inch of aged cock into my youthful mouth. It was only when my gentle fingers grasped and played with the neglected twins underneath his majesty that the hard erection jolted and jittered, flooding my mouth with delicious sperm. My body fell into a frenzy for every last drop, and I didn't stop sucking until I took it all in.

I pulled him out of my mouth when the jitters ceased and swallowed what had been collecting for years.