Caught by Grandfathers Friend

(Part of a series of stories shared with me by a good friend and fellow wank buddy) I awoke in the spare room with my usual state of morning wood which I instantly reached my hand down to beneath the sheets and began to rub and stroke. For me it is the best way to wake up and start the day, you really cant beat beating the meat when the cock rises in the morning, when it is achingly hard and the balls need the first release of juice. After a while I pushed the sheets down over my body and lay naked, enjoying my manhood in an unhurried fashion, nice long slow strokes and gentle rotations, feeling every contour and throbbing vein, the stretch of the pliable foreskin as I pull it forward to cover my head and slowly retract it all the way. Drizzles of pre cum quickly surfaced and added to the sensation as I smeared the sticky morning dew drops over my helmet and smelt the distinct musky odour that it produced. I spat on my palm and applied it for lubricant as my pace quickened, my back arching and toes pointing down in a deep stretch as I feel that most wonderful of sensations. I change hands and begin to stroke with my left while sniffing my right palm, enjoying the odours of my own distinct cock scent, my clenched fist now moving briskly as I lick away the remnants of pre cum on my hand. Suddenly and without so much as a knock or a warning the door to the bedroom swings open and MR White enters and suddenly stops dead in his tracks, looking aghast at my actions as I continue without so much of a break in my built up momentum. There is no stopping, I am already too close to the finish line, I feel the surges rushing through my body as I wank furiously, the surprise morning guest adding a thrill to the proceedings. It is only a minute or so that passes but it feels like time has slowed as I edge ever closer, watching his face as he glares like a rabbit in the headlights, unable to look away from me as I groan and gasp loudly with the inevitable release of a my much needed juice. My body quivers and shakes, muscles tense as I shudder, and then I release a mother load, a flood of spunk that shoots up over my torso and up above my head onto the pillow. Sticky globular strands like a string of pearls hang from my neck chin and lips, dripping into my gasping open mouth. Usually when I shoot my wad I close my eyes tightly but this time my eyes were open wide, keen to catch the look upon his face as I ejaculated, those wide bright elderly eyes that capture every moment of my actions. As I catch my breath he steps back and the door closes quickly... I feel amazingly invigorated, much more so than usual by my morning deed. The audience of MR White, the silver haired friend of my Grandfather over three times my age stimulated some deep urge down inside me, an exhibitionistic need to show off my youthful vigour for someone with a lifetime of experience. As I lay in the afterglow I cant help but wonder if he still wanks off, a man of his years, maybe he is doing so now with the image of me stained fresh in his mind.