Date: Sat, 5 Nov 2016 10:44:16 -0400
From: GH Jock <ghjock8@gmail.com>
Subject: Helping My Step-Son - Chapter 1

Helping My Step-Son

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Chapter 1

As I hung up the phone, I cursed, "What the fuck has that boy done?" I told
my boss I needed to leave for the day to take care of a family emergency
and I drove to the police station. On the way, I replayed the conversation
with the officer over and over. He wouldn't give details over the phone,
only that my son was being detained at the station and that he'd tell me
more when I got there.

I entered the station and told the desk clerk, "I'm Clint Malone. My son,
Jeremy Hunt, is here."

The clerk gave me one of those judgmental looks, with her glasses pulled
low on her nose and her eyes looking at me over the rims. I still had no
idea what my step-son had done, but clearly I was being judged as a bad
father. "Hmmm...I see. I'll get officer Pfeiffer. He'll want to have some
words with you first. Sit down in that chair."

I felt the heat in my face as I was overwhelmed by shame. I lowered my head
and thanked her. I felt inner turmoil as my mind raced with crazy ideas
about what a 15-year old kid could have done to cause such scorn. He had
always been the perfect son. Great grades. Always did his chores. Never
talked back to his mother or me. What more could a mother or step-father
ask for? Especially considering most children of divorce started acting out
when their parents remarried. But I had been married to Beth for three
years at that point. Had it taken this long for our son to rebel?

Officer Pfeiffer called my name a few moments later, "Mr. Malone, please
follow me."

We walked into an office and he shut the door behind me. I looked for
Jeremy, but he wasn't in the room. I sat in a chair and Office Pfeiffer sat
behind a large desk. He stared at me intensely for a few moments then
finally said, "Your son was apprehended in Lanken Park for lewd behavior."

My draw dropped as I simply muttered, "What?"

He continued, "Officer Lambry and I were looking into a report of sexual
activity in the men's bathrooms. When we entered the facility, there were
three occupants. Your son was one of them. We caught him engaged in sexual
activity with one of the other occupants.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had long suspected that Jeremy was
growing up to be gay, though I thought he was still far too young to truly
know his preference. I didn't have my first sexual experience until I was
almost 18. I didn't think I ever knew anyone who had sex at 15. And yet my
step-son was not only having sex already, but doing so in a public place!

After allowing me a few moments to digest all that he had said, he
continued, "Normally, we arrest men for such lewd activity and they have to
register as sex offenders, if found guilty. But your kid is only 15 years
old, Mr. Malone. I don't know what kind of atmosphere you have going on at
home that would drive a kid of his age to engage in such dangerous
activity. But he's too young to understand the consequences of his
actions. We're giving him a pass today, Mr. Malone. We're going to act like
this never happened and we're releasing him into your care."

I nodded, thankful.

The officer continued, "Mr. Malone, we better never find your son doing
that shit in public again. You take the little guy home and you do whatever
it takes to get him on the right path. If we do catch him again, we will
arrest him. It will become public news. His life will be ruined, as will
yours, most likely."

I mumbled a thank you as he gave me a reproachful look and escorted me out
of the office. Jeremy was sitting in a chair near the desk clerk. His head
was held low as he stared at his sneakers. My heart sank for the poor
boy. As I passed the desk clerk, I heard her whisper to her coworker. I
knew she was talking about how scandalous Jeremy and I were.

As much as I wanted to turn around and lecture her on professionalism and
tolerance, I knew the best thing to do was to retrieve my step-son and
leave as fast as possible. Hopefully, he and I would never see the inside
of that, or any, police station ever again.

As I approached him, I said, "Jer, come on buddy. Let's go."

He looked up at me with a horrified look in his eye. I knew he must have
been embarrassed, ashamed and frightened. He had no idea how I would react,
and he probably feared the worst. I tried my best to set him at ease with a
smile and a hand gently placed on his shoulder.

We said nothing until we were seated in the car. He asked, "What did they
tell you?"

I was extremely uncomfortable. But more importantly, I didn't want to say
anything that would make the situation worse for him. In the short time
that I had been Jeremy's father figure, I hadn't had many opportunities to
play the role of stern parent. Jeremy was an exceptionally good kid. And on
those very few occasions that he had done something wrong, Beth had handled
it.

I shrugged, "Not much. Just that they picked you up for lewd activity in
the men's room at Lanken Park. No more details than that." I lied. I knew
that it had been sexual and with another man. But I figured I needed to
have the details come out slowly.

He sniffed and I saw that he was crying. I placed my hand on his leg.
"Don't cry, Jer. They didn't put in any paperwork, so it's as if it didn't
happen, as far as the police are concerned. You just have to promise not to
get caught again."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I
meant to say "to never do it again". Why did I say "not to get caught
again"?

Jeremy appeared to have missed that. He simply continued to cry. "Jer,
Jer. Talk to me. What are you feeling? I can guess why you're crying, but I
don't want to guess wrong."

My step-son said, "Why aren't you yelling at me? Why aren't you telling me
how disgusted you are with me? Why aren't you threatening to whip me when
we get home?"

He began to sob. I gave his leg a gentle squeeze, then had to bring my hand
back to the steering wheel to negotiate the turn into our driveway.

I said, "Let's get inside and we can talk. But, please, Jer. Don't
worry. You will get no lecture or condemnation from me. Head to the living
room. I'll fix us something to drink."

He wiped his eyes as my words calmed him somewhat. We went into the house.
It was completely empty. My wife wouldn't be home for another two hours. I
had been called by the police right after lunch time. So it was still only
mid-afternoon. I poured us each a glass of lemonade and put a few shots of
vodka from the freezer into mine. I need the liquid strength to get through
this tough conversation.

I sat down next to him on the couch and handed him his glass. We drank
silently for a few minutes. Then he broke the ice. "Are you going to tell
my mom?"

I shook my head, "No, buddy. This can stay between us. But I would like to
discuss it."

He got a pained look on his face. I knew that talking with one's parents
about sex is hard at the age of 15. I could only imagine how much tougher
it was to talk about being caught by the police for having sex in public. I
took a large swig of my drink, then asked, "Can you fill me in on more of
the details?"

He looked at me with a doe-in-headlights look. Then he started to speak.
"There's not much to say. I was in the bathroom and this guy put his dick
through a hole in the wall. Then the cops came and accused us of having
sex."

Believing him would have made the whole situation easier. But I could tell
he was not being completely truthful, so I pressed. "Jeremy, there must
have been more to it than that. You were sobbing in the car. So there must
be something more about the situation that is upsetting you. Look, buddy,
you're old enough to start having sex. If you are experimenting with guys,
that's cool. Hell, I remember being your age and not being able to think of
anything other than sex."

He looked up at me, "Really? Did you have sex at my age?"

I shook my head, no, "I think you might be luckier than I was. I could only
think about it...and...well..." I gestured toward my crotch and mimicked
jacking off. "You know...until I was almost 18."

He lost the frown for the first time since I picked him up at the police
station. "You think I'm lucky?"

I felt good inside. My tactic to get him talking appeared to be working.
"Heck yeah, Jer. Any guy your age would give anything to have sex. If
you're actually doing it, you're one heck of a lucky 15-year old."

He began to smile, clearly liking the way this conversation was going.

I dared to go one step further. "You are having sex, right? That's what
this is about, isn't it?"

He lost the smile and almost looked away. But then he bit his lip and said,
"Yeah."

I gave his leg a quick squeeze, "Don't be shy about it, Jer. Sex is fun.
It's a natural need. We all need it, even guys as old as me."

He chuckled and stopped biting his lip.

I added, "And, if you're worried about what people will think about you
having sex with men, don't. I mean...don't be worried, not don't have sex
with men." Shit...I was beginning to stumble.

But he reacted well, "You're really OK with it? I thought that if you or my
mom found out, I'd be in deep trouble."

I shrugged, "I don't know how your mom would react, and she doesn't have to
know any time soon. But I'm cool with it. It's not my thing, but that
doesn't make it wrong. You are who you are. It's that simple."

The tears had stopped flowing and he wiped his face dry. "Thanks,
Clint. You're cooler than I thought."

I took another swig of my vodka-lemonade and said, "Well, you might not
think I'm so cool in a moment. Having sex at your age is fine and all,
especially since you're not in any danger of getting anyone pregnant. But,
let's talk about the way you went about it today. Aside from being illegal,
going to a public place to find sexual partners is dangerous. You never
know who you're going to meet and what their true intentions are. You might
run into a sexual predator who might want to hurt you. Or you might run
across a guy that reacts violently to your advances and beats the shit out
of you."

Oh boy...I had just said "shit". The alcohol was loosening me up.

Jeremy shrugged and looked down at his feet, "I've learned how to recognize
the signs that a guy is interested. I've never made a mistake."

I suddenly realized Jeremy might have been doing this for a while. I had
been thinking this was his first time. But he was talking about it like it
were a regular thing for him. "H...h...have you done this before?"

He nodded, still looking at his feet, "Yeah, many times. I'm kind of
addicted to it. I'm always thinking about it, and I go there every chance I
get. Now that it's summer, I'm going every day."

I was speechless. I hadn't realized the problem was so big. How was I going
to get him to be more careful? "D...d...do you have any friends in school
you can experiment with? Any other guys your age that are looking for the
same thing? If you could hang out with them, it would be a whole lot
safer. Just being with people you know and doing it in safe places. That's
what I'm getting at."

He shook his head, "No, maybe, I don't know. I think there are some guys in
my school who like guys. But I'm not interested in them."

I gulped, "Um...what is it you like about the guys you meet in the park
then?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer, but I was desperate to
find a nugget of something I could latch onto to help him change his
behavior in a healthy way.

He squirmed a little on the couch, then answered softly, "The guys in the
park are older. Many of them are married. And I like the anonymity."

I thought for a few moments, trying to digest what I had just heard. Then I
said, "I think I understand the allure of married men and them being older
than you. I remember a time when I fantasized about women who were older
than me, and I really liked the idea of an experienced married woman. And
yeah, there's something raw about anonymous encounters. So, I get that
too. But I'd really feel a lot better if you found partners that you could
trust and you experimented with them in safe places."

He looked at me for the first time in several minutes and flashed his
perfect smile while nodding. Hell yeah, I was the coolest step-father. I
had diffused a tense situation and had gotten my step-son to start
thinking. He was nodding, so I was sure he was considering what I was
saying and was already thinking of ways of doing as I suggested.

He then surprised the hell out of me by saying, "You are an older married
man. I can trust you."

I was speechless, so I mumbled incoherently, "Um...wa...bu..."

He continued to smile and the look on his face became more determined, "You
would be helping me out a lot."

I shook my head, "But I'm not gay. And I'm your step-father. I didn't mean
to..."

His determination did not wane. "I know that. That's why it's perfect. Most
of the married men I meet aren't gay. They just need to get off. That turns
me on."

I started to panic. My entire strategy for how to help my step-son was
backfiring completely. Every bit of logic I had fed him was now being
thrown back at me. Had I not been drinking vodka, my mind might have been
more clear and I might have been able to get this conversation back on
track. But, I was no longer able to compete in a duel of logic.

Jeremy placed a hand on my leg, high on my thigh, dangerously close to my
crotch. "It doesn't have to mean anything. I can just suck you off. Make
you feel good. Satisfy both of our urges. You like a good blow job, don't
you?"

I couldn't believe how bold my son was being. It was disarming me. His hand
sure felt good on my leg and the thought of a blow job was enticing. But I
couldn't encourage him, so I just stared at him.

With no outright rejection from me, Jeremy continued. He got onto his knees
in front of me and placed his hands on my crotch. I wasn't hard, so there
wasn't much to feel. But he seemed to like it nonetheless.

Alarm bells were going off in my mind. A voice deep down inside said, "Stop
this before it goes any further. It is wrong. It can't happen."

But another voice, the one fueled by the alcohol, spoke more loudly and
more convincingly, "You want to help him with his addiction. If you do this
little thing for him, maybe it will keep him from seeking sex in public. He
won't get arrested again, and even more importantly, he won't be abducted
and killed by a stranger. Yeah, let him suck your cock. It's for the best."

In frustration and confusion, I placed my arm over my eyes and lay my head
back. I had to shut out the world so I could think this through.

Then I felt Jeremy unbutton my pants and begin to lower my fly. I had only
a few more seconds to stop him before he reached the point of no return. I
placed my free hand on his arm and half-heartedly tried to stop him. It
worked for a few seconds. But he must have realized I was being indecisive,
because he continued opening my pants a few moments later.

Then I felt his warm breath on my crotch. My step-son was nuzzling my groin
through my underwear. I hadn't had anyone other than his mother give me
attention down there in the past three years. I had to admit, it was
feeling good. I tried not to think about it being a guy who was down there.

He then pulled my soft cock free from my underwear. He held it in his hand,
then I felt his tongue slide across the head. "Oh my fucking God!", I
thought. "You're allowing him to do it. Stop him!"

But I didn't. I kept my eyes closed and my arm covering them. I allowed my
public sex addicted step-son to use my cock as a way of satisfying his
needs. I was doing him a favor. I was helping him.

Soon, he had my cock completely engulfed in his warm wet mouth. I was still
completely soft. The blow job felt great, but my mind wouldn't allow me to
relax. I tried to focus on getting hard, feeling bad for the kid. I didn't
want him to feel self-conscious about his skills. The last thing I wanted
was for this encounter to make things worse for him. And, the fact was that
he was damned good at it. So I began imagining he was Julia, one of the
women I worked with. I would never consider cheating on my wife with her,
but that didn't stop me from noticing how hot she was.

For several minutes, I blocked out the reality of the situation and focused
on the fantasy of my coworker blowing me. I imagined we were in the office
and she was under my desk, kneeling in front of me and sucking me off. It
worked. I was hard soon after and I began to hear my son's moans of
appreciation. He was now able to prove his skills even more by deep
throating my 7" cock. So many women, including his mother, never tried to
take it all down. They thought simply sucking and licking the top portion
of the pole was enough to get a guy off. My step-son, however, knew that a
man truly appreciates having his entire cock swallowed, giving the warm wet
sensation to the entire shaft. I relaxed a little more, now completely
enjoying the work he was doing.

I no longer needed to fantasize about a woman. I was now so turned on by
the sensations my step-son was giving me that the blow job stood on its
own. I still couldn't bring myself to look at him, so I kept my eyes closed
and covered by my arm. But I was no longer trying to deny that it was him
sucking me.

Jeremy took a short break from sucking and concentrated on my balls. He
sucked them both into his mouth and swirled them around while he jerked my
cock. That felt incredible and I wondered if my little sperm factories were
cooking up a large load for him. Beth and I hadn't had sex for nearly a
week and I hadn't had an opportunity to jack off to relieve the sexual
tension. So my step-son was going to get quite a surprise when I finally
shot – a week's worth of cream.

I had no idea if he was a swallower. His mother wasn't, so I hoped it
didn't run in the family. There was nothing more satisfying than not having
to worry about pulling out at the last minute. Just letting the orgasm
build until it released right into her mouth...or his mouth, in this case.

Jeremy resumed sucking and held my balls with one hand. He tugged on them
gently as he slathered spit all over my shaft. Then he went for the gold,
alternating between slowly sucking me fully into his throat and quickly
sucking up and down like a piston. It was driving me wild and within
minutes I was close.

I grunted, "I'm going to cum." I braced myself for him pulling off like his
mother always did. But that didn't happen. Seconds later, my balls released
their brew, which travelled up my pipe and out the hole at the tip of my
cockhead. I knew it was a big load. I assumed it would be too much for him
and he'd have to let some of it spill. For a split second I worried about
staining the couch. But then I realized he wasn't pulling off. My cock
continued to flood his mouth with cum and he was expertly taking it all.

I had to see it. I hadn't had this good of a blow job experience in
years. I had to see my cocksucker eating my jizz. I moved my arm away and
opened my eyes. There he was. My 15-year old step-son. His grey eyes were
looking up at me as he suckled every last drop from my spasming cock. I
placed a hand on his blond head and stroked his hair. His eyes closed as he
nuzzled into my hand.

For a few moments we both enjoyed the afterglow of the incredibly well
executed blow job. He continuing to suckle on my deflating cock and me
stroking his head and watching him intently. I was no longer having guilty
thoughts about letting my step-son suck me. I was no longer struggling with
the idea of letting a guy touch me there at all. I simply enjoyed the
feeling of being completely satisfied.

Our euphoria was interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. I retrieved
it from my pocket and saw that it was my wife. I answered, fully aware that
her son's lips were wrapped around my cock while we spoke.

The conversation was our regular end-of-the-day one where we discussed
evening plans. It felt surreal to discuss them right after I had fed our
son my ball juice. But I did my best to sound as normal as possible. Jeremy
finally let my cock go and wiped it dry with his shirt. He then stood and
went into the kitchen. I heard him refill his lemonade and then he came
back into the living room and turned on the TV.

As soon as I hung up, I put my spent cock away and zipped up my
pants. Jeremy looked at me, "Thanks for being there for me, Clint. This is
going to help out a lot."

I was surprised once again. He was assuming this would become a regular
thing. And I wasn't rejecting the notion. No, I was the cool helpful
step-father. I would be there for my step-son to help him deal with his
addiction. Without even thinking, I replied, "I'm glad. I want to be there
for you, to help you beat this addiction. All you have to do is let me know
when you need help and I'll be there."

I went to the bedroom and changed out of my work clothes. When I was
completely naked, I studied myself in our full length mirror. I looked at
my cock and balls and thought about the fact that my step-son had had them
in his mouth only a short while before. I looked into the reflection of my
eyes and silently asked myself if I was sure I was OK with what Jer and I
had just started. My thoughts were all over the place, but in the end I
nodded and knew it was all fine. It wasn't like I was gay and was starting
an affair with my step-son. No, I was simply letting him use my cock to
distract him from dangerous activity with strangers. And, if I experienced
pleasure as a side-effect, that was icing on the cake. All in a day's work
for a good step-father like me.

When I returned to the living room, my amazing step-son had already washed
our lemonade glasses and had moved on to taking out the trash. He was such
a good kid. How could I not help him out?

End of chapter 1.

There is much more to this story. Let me know if you are interested in me
continuing.