Simon Worley arrives home from school, having survived the 35 minutes of pure tedium that the bus journey requires. He casts off his coat and bag at the door and undoes his tie. Walks into the lounge and turns on the computer.

"You alright, Granddad?"

There is no response from his grandfather, slumped inanimate and neglected in his armchair, there hadn't been any response for a long time now. He existed practically a vegetable, only the occasional twitch of a eyelid or finger, a raspy cough or snore putting an end to the suspense Simon's grandfather was an 86 year old, once portly, decaying corpse to be. Sat twenty-four seven in front of the television, seemingly unaware if it was switched on or not.

"I'll go make you your cup of tea, Granddad."

At his parent's bidding, Simon duly made his grandfather his 'cuppa' every day when he came home. Despite the fact that over the last six months his grandfather had gone from being able to take a couple of sips with assistance, to the same but dribbling them down his shirt, to now the tea just remaining on the coffee table going cold. Simon saw it as a waste of tea, but if it allowed his parents to look upon themselves as caring, responsible relatives, then what the hey.

He made the tea using his parents' earl grey, and not the happy shopper 46 pence brand brought especially. Stored in a special pot so the neighbours wouldn't see the box. He picked out some biscuits for himself and returned to the lounge.

"Here's your tea Granddad." Simon put the cup on a coaster in front of his grandfather.

"Anything good on TV?" He smirked to himself. Simon wondered if his grandfather was aware that he was there. He wondered if he was aware of anything at all.

He returned to the computer and logged onto the internet. He scrolled down his 'favourites' list and chose one called 'farm teens'. It had a few low resolution images of a dark haired woman sucking on the small pink penis of what looked like a Labrador. Then the same woman on all fours, dressed in a suspender belt and stockings, being mounted by the dog. The lines across the photo made it appear as if they were stills from a video. They were acceptable to ease a curiosity about what went on during bestiality, but they didn't particularly turn Simon on.

He clicked onto another sight. This one was a pay sight, but they had some sample images he could look at. A red haired girl with a tongue piercing, recovering after having two men shoot their sticky white jism over her freckled face. A Japanese 40 year old with huge tits and pigtails being fucked up the ass by one man while she gives another a blowjob. Two women in a shower, one with tattoos and a pierced clit, pissing over the other's tits. A black transsexual in a well kept garden, plastic breasts and limp prick, the dick of a bald man with thick chest hair resting on her tongue.

Instinctively fiddling with his crotch, Simon had already unzipped his trousers. He eased out his half erect cock and pulled his trousers halfway down his hips, allowing his ball sack to comfortably sit outside of his pants. He stroked his meat with his left hand, whilst continuing to use the mouse with his right. Girl after girl, insertion after insertion. He stopped at a picture of nondescript blonde girl staring out seductively from the screen, legs spread-eagle squeezing her tits. He began rubbing harder, jerking the foreskin halfway down the head, then loosening the grip until it slid back. Harder and faster, he continued for another five minutes before noticing that he had become somewhat flaccid. He looked for a worthier picture, but today pixilated flesh failed to make him stiff.

He thought back to his only true carnal experience, Amy Jenkins. He had managed to get her alone in the bathroom during a mutual friend's house party. They began snogging with beer breath, and progressed to fucking on top of a floor towel. A few minutes in to it he had stopped and asked whether he could fuck her in the ass. She had looked horrified and said 'ugh!'. Disappointed, he continued. Pulling out moments before he was about to come and letting Amy finish him off by hand. The following day in school she wouldn't even talk to him. That was almost eight months ago and since his masturbation had grown into a compulsion.

He got out of his chair and put his dick back in his pants, walked over to where his grandfather sat and looked deep into his vacant, bloodshot eyes. He aimed his fingers between them and flicked, dead centre. No response, he remained gazing into the void.

"Poor old sod," Simon muttered to himself.

He dropped to his knees and undid his grandfather's flies. He lifted up the layer of empty stomach flesh which concealed the old man's genitals and scooped out what remained. The penis was smaller than Simon's thumb, and like the rest of the body mainly just fold after fold of superfluous skin. Pinkish grey with brown blotches, it smelt of urine and looked like it hadn't seen any action for far longer than Simon had been alive. He rolled the little piece of meat between thumb and forefinger, stretched the foreskin as far as it would go, then let it snap back. The ball sack was still discernible, and covered with the same brown blotches as well as one or two small whites hairs.

Simon put the entire flaccid penis and sac in his mouth and sucked as hard as he could. He leant his head back until the balls popped out of his mouth. Rolled the little penis around his mouth, using his tongue. He started bobbing his head up and down, allowing the penis to slide between his lips, only requiring nominal movements because it was so small. No matter what he did though, he couldn't arouse the slightest twinge. He lifted the ancient penis out of his mouth with his tongue, and allowed the stomach flab to once again enveloped the old man's shame.

Simon takes a sip of the tea, it had gone cold. He ambled back to the kitchen to help himself to more biscuits. Returning to the lounge the computer had automatically switched to it's screen saver mode, a quote from some Star Trek episode his dad had typed in scrolling across the screen. Simon picked up his grandfather from the chair, he was surprised at how easy it was to lift his frail frame. Holding him under the armpits, Simon positioned his grandfather over the arm of the sofa, face down and proceeded to pull the 86 year old's trousers and underwear down to his ankles. His buttocks reminded Simon of dried fruit, the grey skin had the same brown blotches and between the crack was stained yellow and brown, darker in the creases. Young Simon fed his fingers between the buttock cheeks and pulled them apart.

He found the little asshole, placed his middle finger on it and began rubbing. After a couple of minutes, with no secretion of moisture, he tried to push his finger in. At first it wouldn't go it, so he pushed harder. It forced it's way in and a trickle of blood came out. He wiggled it about, then pulled it back out and smelt it. It didn't smell that bad, a faint whiff, but nothing worth telling his friends about. He slipped his hand into his own trousers and took out his already semi-hard cock. He rubbed it fiercely until it was fully erect, lined it up and pushed.

Searching through his parents' bedroom drawers, he found what he was looking for amongst his father's underwear. He returned to his grandfather's upright behind and applied the Vaseline to both his cock and in and around the asshole. He took off his school uniform so that it wouldn't get dirty, not wanting to have to explain cum stains to his classmates. Once again Simon Worley took his hard slippery prick into his hand, lined it up with his grandfather's bleeding, grey/brown, withered asshole and pushed with all his might.

It took a lot of pressure, so much so that his grandfather was lifted from the floor, and Simon felt like the hole might have torn. A small amount of Vaseline had squirted out. He had managed to get the head of his penis through, held tight by the dry skin around the hole. His cock throbbed inordinately, the fluid working its way up.

Again he pushed, this time managing to get a quarter of his 5" shaft in before he trembled and spurted his load. He rarely came this intensely during masturbation. He stood over the receptacle, clenching the old man's waist. Forcing out the last drops as his penis slowly withered.

A couple of minutes passed and he pulled out. The penis slid out without much of a struggle, it was covered in sticky brown and red liquids, accumulating below the head and in the folds of the foreskin. As soon as the cock had been retracted Simon's semen started dribbling out of his grandfather's asshole. Simon quickly dropped to his knees and stopped the flow with his tongue. He lapped up the bitter white fluid right up to the asshole and started sucking. When he was convinced he had swallowed all that could be procured, he stood back up and pulled up his grandfather's trousers. He dressed himself, manoeuvred his grandfather back into his chair and then returned to the computer.

Later that day Simon Worley was in his room, relaxing on his bed and thinking about how much he was dreading having to do gym in school the following day. He decided he wanted to buy a new rack to store his CDs. There came suddenly a knock on his door and without waiting for a response his mother walked in.

"Simon," she said in a very sombre whisper.

A wash of dread came over him, his head started to spin as he desperately searched through the deformed words that engulfed his mind.

His mother sat on the bed, placed her cold hand on her son's knee and peered heavy into his eyes. Simon came to the conclusion that he was about to vomit.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," she said. "It's Granddad, I'm sorry to say he passed away earlier today."