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The first time I saw him masturbate I was twenty-two. Emily and I had been out with friends and had come in about two in the morning. Her parents accepted two young women would have late hours like this and they had encouraged us to collapse at their home. It was closer to the downtown drink-and-dine places than it was to Emily’s low-rent apartment in the far south suburbs of Mipple City.It was four-thirty in the morning when I had to pee.He was standing naked in the kitchen with his back to the hallway door. If he hadn’t moved, I might have missed him given my inebriated state. The moon was full and the silvered light coming from the side window reflected easily from the gray hairs on his head, his chest, and his legs.I had to pee but I was reluctant to move. I was tense. Discovery was possible and embarrassment assured. He would be embarrassed if he was discovered and I would be embarrassed by having caught him.I was half-hidden by the door but if he turned, he would see me. I could see him though. He was masturbating while looking out the kitchen sink window. His right hand couldn’t be seen but it was clear what he was doing with it. There was something white that he rubbed over himself but that is all that I could see from the doorway. His movements became urgent and I chose to retreat. His attention was focused on himself and this was a good time to slip away.I heard his orgasm as I moved. A slight grunt escaped. In a flash, I was halfway down the hallway hiding in the guest room. I listened closely until his bedroom door clicked shut. Then I waited another beylikdüzü escort fifteen minutes before deciding it was safe to pee.  No chance meeting in the hallway for me!The next morning Emily’s grandfather was his usual self. He made us breakfast and told us he didn’t hear us come in. He was always interested in our lives and we talked for an hour before Emily and I dressed and left.Everything was normal except for the fact that I knew he masturbated. I couldn’t help but steal glances at his butt and the front of his pants. There was no sign of a bulge, no sign of embarrassment, but I kept glancing to see if I could discover one. His jeans were baggy and hid anything underneath them, both front and back.It was a regular thing for Emily and me to meet our friends in Minneapolis. The following month as we drove to her parents’ house a little after midnight, I wondered if I would see him masturbate again.I woke about four and heard a creak in the kitchen. Emily was sleeping soundly beside me; it had to be her grandfather settling into a kitchen chair. I waited until my curiosity got the better of me before I tiptoed down the hallway and peeked into the kitchen.He was naked again and sitting in a chair staring into space. He was looking upward, out the window toward the moon, with a wistful look. His white skin had a patina of polished silver, his legs were spread apart and they extended straight out. It appeared he was sunbathing in the moon’s light.Moonbathing leapt into my mind. This is exactly what he was doing with his butt bahcesehir escort bayan on the edge of the chair and his body outstretched, elongated to capture the moonlight. The palms of his hands were up and his arms extended as if he was receiving holy grace from a moon goddess. He had exposed as much of himself as possible to the moon and was bathing in its light.I studied him. He moved very little; an occasional upward curling of fingers, an occasional stretch of an arm or a leg but not much more than that. He tilted his head towards any unexpected sounds that came from outside the house. The rustle of the breeze in the trees or a twiglet felled by the wind, each made just enough noise to catch his attention. It was too dark for the squirrels to scamper across the roof but if they had, he would have likely tracked their movements, too.If I had been a painter and this was my painting, I would have titled it A Study of Emily’s Grandfather. I might have shifted the perspective a little to bring his member into view. It would add character to the theme if seen.It was then he reached for the white fabric on the table next to him. I had been so focused on him that I failed to see whatever it was that lay within his reach. He brought the fabric to his member and began to rub. I wished I could see what it was but this angle prevented it. Was it a hankie? A linen napkin? Perhaps a towel? I couldn’t tell.He stood up and as he did, he turned enough for me to see he was uncut. I was shocked. My suburban upbringing and white man dating escort bayan beylikdüzü experiences never included uncut men. I had seen pictures and videos, of course, but I had never been this close to uncircumcised manhood before. It was arousing to be so close and it was a bonus to watch uncut cock stroked by an old man. I focused all my attention on his movements.He had cupped the fabric under his testicles with three fingers and encircled his member with his thumb and forefinger. He encouraged his member to harden with tugs and strokes. There was no doubt he was uncut. I was fascinated by his pulling of the foreskin to reveal the pink glans to the moonlight.Now you see it, now you don’t, popped into my head. Its appearance and disappearance under his stroking was mesmerizing. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Emily’s unruffled, quiet, and wise grandfather had transformed into senior citizen erotica; I was transfixed.His member became stiff, his stroke became quicker and shorter. He looked down and watched the foreskin slide smoothly over his shaft.Suddenly, he stopped stroking and removed his hand. If ever the word tumescent was appropriate this was it. His uncut cock was swollen and glistened in the moonlight.Emily’s grandfather looked at his member for a moment and pressed his hips forward in small thrusts. He simulated fucking and thrust his cock forward and back. The visual was stunning to me. It was erotic and sensual to watch this man airfuck the moonlight.It didn’t last long. His cock began to soften and go limp. Fuck, he whispered. He returned the fabric and his fingers to his cock and balls and resumed his ministration. The more he manipulated himself, the limper he became. Finally, he became annoyed and irritated to the point that he threw the fabric towards the sink and stood there looking at his limpness. It was a posture of disappointment.

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