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Gramps Powered - Parts 1 - Finale


londonboy

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Part Three

 

I didn’t remember much about the rest of the evening – except the way Mr. Dennis’ hand felt every time it squeezed or stroked part of my body.  When he took it away to eat or do something else, I immediately missed his firm grip and loving caresses.  To say I was smitten was an understatement.  The man was witty, charming, brutally honest, and steered the evening like some kind of magnificent elder captain of an ocean liner and I was his number one cabin boy.  He was confident in the way I had dreamed my chosen subject would be – clearly able to be the one in charge, but in a gentle way and harsh only when he needed to be.  Maybe it was the Borolo, maybe it was his aftershave, or maybe it was just knowing what was to come when we got to my place – but I was able to finally relax into the evening and just – as Mr. Dennis had suggested – be in the ‘now.’  Soon, we were back in my car, his strong hand gripping my thigh again, and I was rock hard knowing we were headed towards our destiny.  We would soon be linked in what I was sure would be an unbreakable bond. 

 

“So, Tommy-boy has a little muscle and strength fetish, huh?” asked Mr. Dennis out of the blue as his forefinger pressed into the side of my hard rod.

 

“What?” I asked, swerving a little in the road because the question caught me off guard.

 

“Whoa, you okay there, bud?  Need this elder man to drive?  Too much Borolo will do that to a man,” he replied.

 

“No, I’m fine.  I promise.  The two coffees and dessert helped a lot.  I was just surprised by your statement.”

 

“I don’t see why, Thomas.  Every chance you got tonight you steered the conversation toward muscles and strength.  Methinks you might be a little obsessed.”

 

I did not like where this conversation was headed.  It reminded me that I had already revealed too much information about my desires – my secrets.  I was all too close to the plan I had been working so long and so hard to fulfill and I was nervous something would go wrong.  I let silence be my answer, but Mr. Dennis continued.

 

“Hey, it’s cool, friend.  We all have kinks.  We shouldn’t be embarrassed by them.  I happen to love dominating a guy – well, smothering might be a more appropriate word.  I like the idea of leading some young buck through life – being his mentor, his guide, his alpha.  Again with the swerving - are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“I’m great, Mr. Dennis.  I’m perfect, as a matter of fact.”

 

I was suddenly realizing that maybe the inner workings of the man I had chosen weren’t going to be that affected by his upcoming outer changes.  I was suddenly sweating a little from the nervous excitement caused by this gray-haired, soon-to-be massive, older man telling me he loved to be an alpha.  This seemed like the icing on my already perfect cake.  It also caused more trouble for me in the southern parts of my body.  My already throbbing cock began to ache with anticipation – no, with a need to have the change already happened. 

 

“I detect a quickened heartbeat and an increased rise at your crotch from my little confession, cute little Tommy.  You want some older man to put you on a short leash?”

 

“Not any older man, sir.  One specific older man,” I said, glancing to him with such a serious look I was suddenly afraid I might be coming on too strong.

 

“Hot damn, boy, that mouth of yours can say the nicest things.  I’ll be as stern as you want me to be.  I’m not a bully, though.  I’ll just be that guy that suggests what you should wear, orders your meal for you, intimidates other guys that flirt with you, and leads you through lovemaking like a masterful potter working with clay.  How does that sound?”

 

“Like heaven, Mr. Dennis.  Just like heaven.”

 

The hand stroking my thigh reached over and squeezed my full hardness and his low growl of approval made the big thing twitch.  I was now officially his – even before the change.  I could feel it.  I wanted him desperately, as is, and knew the changes would simply make me desire him more – if that were possible.  It was crazy, but I got the feeling he wanted me, as well.  I wasn’t sure if it was just for one night or for a lifetime, but I didn’t get hung up about that.  I simply took his desire for what it was worth – right then and now.  We were two lost ships that had somehow found each other among all the oceans, seas, and ports in the world.  I began to think fate was approving of my plan and just kept making Mr. Dennis even more perfect than he had been before.

 

“Hell, Tommy-boy, I hope you like you’re plowing hard, because I’m so turned on I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to control myself,” Mr. Dennis said, running his free hand through his gorgeous gray hair.

 

I wanted to tell him I was hoping he’d never be able to control himself again.  I wanted to tell him I was about to turn him into this senior muscled superhero, whose outsides would soon equal all of the alpha manliness he felt inside.  Turning into my driveway almost made me cum.  Mr. Dennis told me he was very impressed with my house and when he took his hand away from my leg I immediately felt a deep void.  I didn’t have to suffer too long, though, because he was on my side of the car even before I stepped out and had a guiding arm around my waist as we walked up the bricked path to my big front porch

 

“Such a big house for one guy,” Mr. Dennis said, looking at my home.

 

“I have a feeling it will seem a lot smaller very soon,” I said – throwing caution to the wind since I was steps away from my goal.

 

“Yeah, two people will make it more intimate, don’t you think,” he replied – not knowing how his future size would make everything intimately small.

 

As I unlocked the door, Mr. Dennis’s wandering hand went from my lower back down to my ass and gripped hard.  I was learning first hand – no pun intended – that the silver fox had a one-track mind when it came to his interests.  I didn’t mind at all.  Being smothered by all of his future huge body was going to be such pleasure.  God, the man’s hand knew how to please.  I figured that came with age and experience – another reason I loved mature men.  He firmly grasped my cheek and lifted upward, making me go up on my toes.  Then, his fingers slid firmly up into my crack and teased the pleasure zone up in there, mercilessly.  I kept missing the keyhole because I couldn’t focus on what I was doing.  I had a feeling he’d never miss any holes. 

 

“Damn, your ass is going to turn me into a beast, boy,” he growled as he prodded his hand further forward.

 

“You have no idea,” I whispered, smiling and finally getting the door opened. 

 

The man never let his hand leave my ass – guiding me into the house like some kind of puppet master maneuvering every part of me with his fingers.  There was a quick glance around the big front hall and then the man spun both of us around and pushed me into the door he had expertly shut with his foot.  His slightly smaller, elder, still pretty-tight body slammed up against mine, knocking the wind from me a little.  Instantly, a hard thigh parted my legs and pushed firmly into my fully erect cock.  Hands gripped my wrists and forced my arms to my sides.  Then, to really send me over the top, a silver-stubbled face scraped strongly against mine as Mr. Dennis’ lips attacked me.  It was a brutal love assault that made my toes scrunch up in my shoes and my fingers uncontrollably ball into tight fists from indescribable pleasure.  Older men simply knew how to kiss better than anyone else in the world.  Maybe it was because they had spent a lifetime of kissing frogs in hopes of making one of them turn into a prince – and ended up trying again and again when the dude just stayed a frog.  Or maybe it was simply because years of practice – as well as years of learning the techniques of other men – made them pros.  It was like a great, great grandmother’s perfect recipe that was improved even more as it passed down through the generations.  Whatever it was, Mr. Dennis was a Grade-A, powerful, aggressive kisser in a league all of his own – I had never been forced to submit my mouth, as well as my entire body, in such a euphoric way.  I immediately became putty in his hands and he could have had his way with me in any manner he chose.  I even briefly forgot about my plan to come – simply awash with so much orgasmic joy I could only focus on the multiple different reactions he was causing in my body.  He pulled his lips from mine and I instantly let out a moan of displeasure – clearly telling him I didn’t want him to stop.

 

“Thought I’d show you what this old man is capable of from the get-go, Thomas.  Just wanted you to know how happy I am you spoke to me tonight.”

 

“Just kiss me, please sir!  God, just kiss me,” I said, begging for him to return to what he was doing. 

 

His wrinkle-framed lips were back on mine in a flash and I went back up on the tips of my toes from the incredible sensation that shot through my body.  I knew I was forever his yes-boy at that exact moment.  I had never been so turned on by a pair of lips.  I had never been so expertly whipped into an orgasmic frenzy.  His tongue invaded my mouth in a way that caused me to feel small and weak, but at the same time it caused a feeling of pure bliss, as well.  His thigh pushed against my crotch the way a linebacker might hit an opposing team’s player – hard, powerful, and causing a loss of breath.  I was on sensory overload, afraid I might pass out at any second.  The man sensed all of this and pulled his face back again.

 

“You’re making me feel so powerful, son,” he growled, staring into my eyes.

 

“That’s my intention, sir.”

 

His hands still held my arms to my side and I imagined how it would feel when his body would not even register anything I did to try and break free – when he would easily hold me in place any time he wished.  His hot mouth returned to mine, his thigh thrust into my groin even harder, and I started to wish for release.  He had driven me to the point of no return.  I wanted to explode.  I wanted the old man to make me offer him a powerful orgasm.  This time, I turned my head to speak and he simply continued to suck on my neck as I begged.

 

“Please make me cum, Mr. Dennis.  I want to cum for you.”

 

“Aw yeah, Tommy-boy is ready to bust his nuts big time, isn’t he?  Let’s not rush the evening, though, son.  This old man isn’t one of those guys that needs to be in bed by eight o’clock.  I can make it all night long, Thomas.  Let’s hold off on that release for a little while longer.  I want to have you leaking with anticipation.  How about a drink?”

 

And just like that, the senior tease released me and backed away.  I stayed pressed against the door with my head turned sideways and my eyes closed for a few more seconds and then the word ‘drink’ registered in my head.  Like a man that fell in a well and took hours to climb back out, I dragged myself back from the cliff of ejaculation and snapped totally present in an instant.  I knew exactly where the small bottle of liquid to put this man to sleep for the upcoming change rested on a shelf in a kitchen cabinet – waiting so patiently for this day.  Him backing off and requesting a drink was the only thing that could have quieted my libido at that point.  I turned and smiled at the now slightly disheveled gorgeous older man.

 

“What’s your choice of poison, Mr. Dennis?”

 

“What kind of whiskey would a nice man like you have, Thomas?”

 

“Black Bush, sir.”

 

“Mmmmm, the protestant one, that shows some character.  I’ll have some of that, good sir.  Straight, with no chaser.  Just to show you how strong I am.”

 

My balls immediately ached more and I found it hard to walk as the man put his now familiar hand on my back and led me towards the kitchen after I nodded in its direction.  To show me how strong he was, indeed.  He had no idea what those words did to me or how the image of him being really strong by this time tomorrow played again and again as he went off to explore more of the house leaving me totally alone to fix his drink.  Strong whiskey would more than hide the smell and taste of the almost totally bland mixture that promised non-disturbed sleep for about twelve hours.  That would be more than enough time for me to inject this senior daddy with the formula I had spent most of my waking hours over three years to perfect.  And it would take even less for the changes to happen.  I held out the drink to him when he came back into the kitchen.  I had poured myself some, as well, but mine had a little water and some ice.  He took the class and we raised them in a toast.

 

“Here’s to your health,” I said.

 

“Here’s to you getting plowed tonight,” he responded with a laugh and then he downed the entire glass with one huge, beautiful, manly gulp. 

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37 minutes ago, Aalereon said:

Yes!!!! I've been checking every day to see if you had posted part 3. You know what I like 😉 I'm going to read it RN. Thanks!

Be forewarned, I'm such a tease.

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Great story so far! Of course, I'm also dying to see Mr. Dennis grow huge and more powerful, but the journey getting there is quite enjoyable. Your powers of description are just beyond compare, and there are a lot of writers here who are good about that.

Might I recommend a fine Bourbon rather than Black Bush for two such discerning gentlemen? Black Bush is way too cheap in the States (around $35.00) when those with money can spend a couple of hundred dollars on a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle of something else good. (Sorry, I guess it comes from being a Kentuckian.) However, I do like how you made a plot point of it by mentioning that it's the Protestant Irish Whiskey. Very clever detail. 

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44 minutes ago, Kymuscleboy said:

Great story so far! Of course, I'm also dying to see Mr. Dennis grow huge and more powerful, but the journey getting there is quite enjoyable. Your powers of description are just beyond compare, and there are a lot of writers here who are good about that.

Might I recommend a fine Bourbon rather than Black Bush for two such discerning gentlemen? Black Bush is way too cheap in the States (around $35.00) when those with money can spend a couple of hundred dollars on a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle of something else good. (Sorry, I guess it comes from being a Kentuckian.) However, I do like how you made a plot point of it by mentioning that it's the Protestant Irish Whiskey. Very clever detail. 

You are always too smart for me. :) While the cost of the whiskey  doesn't equal their status (the fact that you notice details like that makes me so happy) it was more about the Irish-ness for me.  Not sure why, I just saw Mr. Dennis loving working-man's whiskey.  As, always, thank you for offering tips to help me write better AND for liking a lot of the same things I do.

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1 hour ago, londonboy said:

You are always too smart for me. :) While the cost of the whiskey  doesn't equal their status (the fact that you notice details like that makes me so happy) it was more about the Irish-ness for me.  Not sure why, I just saw Mr. Dennis loving working-man's whiskey.  As, always, thank you for offering tips to help me write better AND for liking a lot of the same things I do.

The fact that you think any tip I could give you would make you a better writer is high praise indeed! Yes, your attention to detail is a big part of what makes your writing so excellent. Now that you mention it, there is something very appealing about the very rich man liking the working class drink. I just had to take the opportunity to mention my state's most significant contribution to world culture, which I'm pretty sure derives from Irish whiskey way back the line anyway.  If it's good enough for Judi Dench as "M," it can't be all bad. 

It's a point of pride for us in Kentucky, when we really don't have that much to crow about. Well, we did give the gifts of Muhammad Ali, Jennifer Lawrence and George Clooney to the world. So, I guess we're not doing too  bad for a little state. 😀

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