Date: Sun, 20 Nov 2016 08:19:48 -0500
From: GH Jock <ghjock8@gmail.com>
Subject: Helping My Step-Son - Chapter 4

Helping My Step-Son

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Chapter 4

The following morning, I slept in. I was hungover and, since it was
Saturday, I could afford to lounge around for a little while. There was
only one thing on my agenda that day – clearing out some space in the
garage. We had a huge garage. Not only was it wide enough for two cars, but
it was also deep enough to fit four cars total, if we ever had that
many. About half of the garage was filled with my tools, workbenches, and
other shit that men keep in their sanctuaries of manhood. Another quarter
of the space was cluttered with boxes of Beth's crap – scrap booking
supplies and shit like that. But I had to make room for a second car. My
step-son with the incredible oral skills was turning 16 in a few days and
his mother and I had bought him a car. So it was going to be time to start
parking Beth's car in the garage with mine. Jeremy's car would go in the
spot next to the driveway currently used by Beth.

I woke up at around 10:00 and I lay there thinking about all that had
happened the night before. I might have been drunk out of my mind, but I
believed I remembered most of what I talked about with Ryan and what
happened in the room early in the morning with Jeremy. I was feeling bad
for sharing Jeremy's secret with Ryan. But his response was surprising. Now
with a clearer head, I wanted to know more about his public sex
experiences. Was there some place he was going to where he found women? Or
had my older brother just revealed to me that he had gotten his dick sucked
in places like men's rooms? I needed to get my brother alone again so I
could convince him to share more details.

But what really filled my mind was the memory of what had happened in
Jeremy's room. I couldn't shake the feelings of guilt for having sought him
out. I couldn't believe how selfish I had been. And, despite Jeremy's
assurance that he wanted to be the one to make me happy, I still felt like
it was wrong for me to do it. In all areas of my life, I was an upstanding
citizen. I had a good job. I had a beautiful wife. I had a nice home in a
nice neighborhood. And yet, I was now betraying my wife by taking advantage
of her gay son. What would she say if she found out? What would my
neighbors say? What would my family say?

Then I thought of the feeling of his tongue on my ass hole. The slimy wet
feeling of his tongue rolling around down there. It caused me to get an
instant woody. I had honestly never thought my bunghole could be a pleasure
center for my body. I absolutely hadn't liked feeling his finger pressing
into it, but I definitely liked the wet sliminess of his tongue swirling
around it.

I licked my index finger and placed it on my hole. Nothing. No pleasure.

I tried again, this time with my middle finger, since I didn't want to lick
the finger that had just touched my hole. I spat on it and made sure it was
really wet and slimy. I placed it on my hole. Nothing no pleasure.

Nothing I did with my own fingers could match what Jeremy had done with his
tongue. I was disappointed. I wanted to have that feeling again. I was sure
my wife would never do it for me. She had a hard time putting her mouth on
my cock. There was no way I would be able to talk her into putting her
tongue on my ass. Jeremy was my only option. But I was determined not to
seek him out for my own pleasure again. Now that I was sober, my resolve
had returned.

But maybe the next time he sent me an SOS text, I might ask him to do
it. My ass clenched again as I thought about it.

At around 11:00, I finally rolled out of bed. I showered and dressed in a
pair of painters pants and an old ratty t-shirt. I was going to get
dirty. No point in wearing anything good. I went to the kitchen and found a
plate of breakfast in the oven. Jer and Beth had eaten earlier. I suspected
it was my perfect step-son who had been the thoughtful one to put aside a
plate for me and to keep it warm. Beth was still annoyed about my
drunkenness the night before. Whenever I woke up late with a hangover, she
made me fend for myself for meals.

I took the plate into the living room and found my wife and step-son. She
had him helping her organize the contents of yet another box of crafting
supplies. Through a mouthful of food, I said, "Um... no... today's the day
we're throwing stuff out, not adding more to the pile."

Jeremy swung his head around as soon as he heard my voice. He gave me full
smile then looked me up and down. I knew he was excited to see me and was
checking me out. Despite being still a little hung over, I was already
horny. If my wife hadn't been there, I probably would have grabbed my
crotch suggestively and asked if he needed some addiction therapy. But she
was, so I didn't.

Beth gave me a pissy look and said, "We're not adding this to the garage
pile. I'm going to give this box to Cheryl Meyers."

I shrugged, knowing that she was fully aware of the need to clean out the
garage to make space. She knew she couldn't add more to the garage. I had
just been trying to be an annoying jerk.

I sat down in my reclining chair and took another bite of my
breakfast. "This is good. Let me guess, you put it aside for me, right,
Jer?"

He nodded and smiled. I gave him a smile back, "Thanks, buddy. I'm glad I
can rely on you to take care of me."

The true meaning of my words was clear to both of us. But my wife was
clueless, so she said the expected, "Well, when you stay up drinking with
your brother like two frat boys, you should have to fend for yourself the
following morning."

I waved a hand, dismissing her comment. Then conspiratorially, I said to
Jeremy, "We guys will stick together. Agreed?"

He licked his lips suggestively and nodded. My wife was behind him, so she
couldn't see the lip licking.

Changing the subject, Beth asked, "So what about Ryan's car? What's the
plan for him to pick it up? He doesn't have Megan any more to drive him
over here." Her voice was thick with judgment. She blamed Ryan for the
divorce. She made that clear whenever he did something that annoyed her.

I swallowed a chunk of hash browns and said, "You don't have to worry. I
just spoke with him. He's getting a ride over here. We don't have to get
involved at all."

For the next several minutes, I ate while watching Beth and her son work
together. I was happy to be part of this family. I had fallen in love with
Beth fairly quickly after we met. And when I met her son, I knew we would
get along well. Of course, three years ago I had no idea how well we would
eventually get along. But what man could predict when marrying a woman that
he would eventually become her son's personal cum supply?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car entering our
driveway. My brother was here. I could have just let him pick up his car
and leave without interacting, but that magnetic aura he had was always
active. It was hard to resist interacting with my older brother when he was
nearby. I put down my plate and headed to the window. In the driveway,
behind Ryan's car, was a blue pickup truck. In the driver's seat was a
young man, probably 20 or 21. Ryan was standing at the driver's side window
speaking with him. Then he gave the kid a pat on the shoulder before he
drove away.

I stepped outside and greeted him. "You as hung over as I am?"

He nodded, pain evident in his eyes, "Yeah. And I didn't get any sleep."

"Really? Man, I slept like a baby," I responded.

Ryan pulled out his keys and got into his car. "Well, I haven't made it
home yet. Let's just say, I kept the party going all night." It was then
that I noticed that my brother was wearing the same clothes he had been
wearing the night before.

I laughed, "You sure are enjoying the single life!"

My brother drove off and I returned to the house. I was going to put my
dirty dishes in the sink and start working on the garage. But Jeremy was
already at the sink, washing all the dishes from the morning's breakfast,
including mine. On my way to the garage, I walked by him and said, "Thanks,
Jer. You're too good to me."

He blushed and picked up a pan to scrub.

I headed to the garage and started the long process of making more
room. About an hour later, Jeremy appeared with a glass of lemonade in each
hand. He found me behind the pile of stuff I intended to throw away. He
asked, "How's it going in here? I brought this, in case you were thirsty."

I wiped the dust and sweat from my brow and took the proffered glass,
"Fine. Making some progress."

I took a big drink and nearly coughed. There was vodka mixed in with the
lemonade. I swallowed it, giving him a look of surprise.

He smiled and said, "I thought you'd like that."

I did like it, "The hair of the dog that bit you and all that. Ryan and I
were pretty drunk last night. This will definitely help ease the hangover I
have."

I took another sip of my vodka-lemonade. "So how are you doing today? A
good day? Or are you fighting temptation?"

He shrugged, "It's a Saturday, so the activity there is hit or miss. Some
Saturdays, it's filled with guys looking to get off. Other Saturdays, you
can go for hours with not even one guy coming into the men's room."

I was a bit surprised at how casually he was describing what went on
there. Granted, I had asked him the evening before how many men had been
there. So the door to talking openly about it was already opened by me. But
it still felt odd to listen to it. I wondered if I had finally tapped into
the way of helping him without giving him my cock. Maybe if he talked about
it, he could get it out of his system.

"I wonder if the high traffic days are the ones when games are being held
in the soccer and baseball fields," I asked.

He nodded, "Oh yeah, that's definitely it. Lots of fathers taking a break
from watching their kids' games. They come to the men's room to empty their
bladders; they leave after emptying their balls."

I was curious, "Are there really that many married men who go there for
that?"

He nodded, "Yeah, a lot. I mean, I'm not saying every married man that goes
in there is looking to get off. A lot of them are really there just to
piss. But, you'd be surprised how many linger around, hoping to find
someone to help them out."

I was surprised, "I never knew. Honestly. I had no idea guys went there for
that, especially not married guys." I paused, then continued, "So, does
talking about it make you tempted to go?" I needed to know if talking
really would help or make it worse.

He shrugged, "I always want to go there. It's constantly at the back of my
mind. But doing my chores is a good way to distract me for a while."

He finished his lemonade, then stepped up to me. He placed his hand on my
crotch and squatted down. "I could go for a quick one right now, though."

I was taken off-guard. I pushed him away before he could go too far. "No,
Jer. Not here. Not now. Your mom's just behind that door. We can't have her
catching us. There's no way she'd understand that I'm just helping
you. Plus, you have your chores to keep you busy. Go focus on them."

He groped my crotch again before walking away, "Cool. But you know I'm here
if you need me."

I watched him walk back into the house, holding my breath the entire
time. I only breathed out once the door was shut behind him. I had been
holding my breath because a little voice in my head was telling me to call
him back and to let him do what he wanted. But my more rational mind won
out. He had already said he wasn't struggling with his addiction at that
moment. His chores were keeping him from thinking too much about it. So,
other than my selfish desire to blow a load into his mouth, there was no
reason for me to offer it to him.

Over the next hour or so I continued to work, twice going in to refill my
lemonade glass and to put a little vodka into it. I wasn't going to get
drunk, but I wanted to have a good buzz going on. On one of those trips
inside, I saw Jeremy mowing the lawn in the backyard. On the second trip, I
ran into him vacuuming the hallway. It brought back memories of Ryan and me
trying to avoid our Saturday morning chores in any way possible. In
contrast, the only time Jeremy asked to be excused from his chores was when
he was bed-ridden with the flu or something. Beth had really done a good
job raising him to be a fine gentleman.

Back in the garage, I continued to work on making room for Beth's
car. Jeremy came in a little while later. He said, "I finished my chores a
while ago. And now I'm pacing my room. I got onto my bike twice to go to
the park, but stopped both times. I'm really struggling right now."

I reached out with my hand to pull him toward me. He responded quickly,
stepping up to me and wrapping an arm around my waist. He groped my
crotch. I knew what he was suggesting. But how could he think we'd do it
with his mom nearby? When I had gone to his room the night before, she was
in the house, but asleep. That had been bad judgment on my part. This was
even a worse idea.

I was going to protest, but I knew I would give in. I was feeling buzzed
from the alcohol and horny. A bad combination when trying to show
restraint. "Jeremy, we can't."

He ignored my response and gently guided me toward a pile of boxes near the
back of the garage. The pile was as high as my chin. I could see over the
boxes, and was facing directly at the door that led to the kitchen. He
knelt down in front of me and nuzzled my crotch. He was hidden completely
from view. I looked down and saw him unzip my pants.

I chugged down the rest of the vodka-lemonade. I was seriously afraid of my
wife catching us. But I wanted this badly. The alcohol helped me relax. As
he reached inside my pants, I heard Jeremy say, "No underwear today? Sexy
mother fucker."

He pulled my flaccid cock through the fly and as his mouth engulfed it, I
muttered, "Mother fucker? Not lately."

For the next several minutes, Jeremy valiantly sucked my cock. But nothing
he did could make me hard. I was far too nervous. What he was doing to me
felt great, but I just couldn't get it up. I even tried watching him for
the very first time. I thought seeing my cock going in and out of his mouth
might help. But it didn't.

He then stood up. I panicked for a second, thinking that if my wife chose
that very moment to look into the garage, she would see the top of Jer's
head. But then I realized he was a little shorter than the top of the
pile. He could not be seen.

He pulled up my t-shirt and kissed my chest. Then he grasped one of my
nipples with the fingers of one hand and placed his lips around the
other. I made no effort at all to dissuade him. I was desperate to get hard
and to fuck his face. I threw out the window any previous reservations I
had about him playing with my chest and nipples. It felt great and I was
horny. Let him do what he wanted to help me get off.

And it worked. The pleasure he was giving my nipples went straight to my
cock. It hardened almost immediately. When he felt the effect he was having
on me, he looked up into my eyes and said, "I'm glad I know how to make you
hard." He resumed licking and gently biting my nipple while he stroked my
daddy dick with his other hand.

I kissed his forehead, "I'm glad too."

That was the first time I had kissed him during one of our encounters. It
had been only a peck on the forehead, but it was still more affection than
I had displayed in our previous times together. I tried telling myself that
it hadn't been a sexual kiss. It was more like the kind of kiss a father
gives his son when saying "good night." But it wasn't really, was it? I
gave him that kiss because he was gently biting my nipple to make me hard
and I wanted to thank him for doing so. It might not have been a kiss on
the lips, but it wasn't any less sexual in context.

"Hey Honey, I'm trying to find my yard stick. Do you know if it's out
here?" Beth had pulled open the door from the kitchen.

Jeremy instantly dropped to a squatting position. I thought he would have
had the sense to scurry away, but instead the little bastard swallowed my
rock-hard cock. I gasped in surprise. Luckily, we were so deep in the
garage that Beth hadn't seen me leaning over kissing Jeremy's forehead and
she didn't hear my gasp as her son sucked my cock into his warm mouth.

I pulled him off my cock and pushed it into my pants. Then I slowly zipped
up my fly. I did all of this while trying to be nonchalant. Beth knew I was
working in the garage, so she wouldn't find it odd that I was moving around
while she was talking to me. But, I couldn't risk her hearing me zip up my
zipper. That definitely would have called her attention. "No, Babe, not out
here. I remember seeing it next to the refrigerator. Did you check there?"

She stepped past the threshold and into the garage. She was looking all
around, but not directly at me. Had she focused on my face, she would have
seen the panic in my eyes. I dared to glance down at Jeremy. He was
squatting with his arms crossed. Apparently, he felt it appropriate to pout
about the current situation. The little fuck! Didn't he know how much
danger of being caught we were in?

My wife continued to talk to me for about thirty seconds – though it
felt like three hours – while she rummaged around near the kitchen
door. Meanwhile, Jeremy was fondling my crotch again and I had stopped
pushing him away. I wouldn't let him open my fly, but I was no longer
objecting to him squeezing and rubbing my hard dick through my pants. There
was no apparent danger of my wife coming all the way back to us. So, I
turned the situation around in my mind and had fun getting away with
letting her son fondle my cock while she was close by.

It felt exhilarating! Had she stepped back toward us, Jeremy would have had
enough time to hid behind some boxes. But, there would be little I could do
to hide my hard cock. We were so close to being caught and yet, she had no
clue. While she talked and looked for her yard stick, I pressed against her
son's hand. It was mind-blowing.

I wondered if this was the excitement Jeremy felt whenever he went to the
park restroom. Was it so enticing to him because he never knew who he would
meet and if they would get caught? Did he ever suck a man's dick in a stall
while another man was standing at the urinal, oblivious to their activity?
If so, I could see how that could be exciting.

She finally exclaimed, "A ha! It was under the dryer." She lifted the
measuring device then said, "Are you thirsty? I could get you something to
drink."

I could barely speak; my mind was spinning from the excitement. "No, Jeremy
brought me some lemonade a little while ago. I'm good."

She walked through the door and into the house, "OK that's nice."

As soon as the door was shut behind her, I nudged Jeremy to stand up. I
looked down at his face and saw the lust in his eyes. I wanted to lecture
him on not doing that ever again, but I couldn't. I had liked it too
much. Instead, I smiled at him and said, "I should yell at you right now,
but all I can do is say `wow, that was hot.'"

He smiled back and said, "It's exciting to almost get caught, isn't it?
Plus, I knew where the yard stick was. If she came closer, I would have
told you so you could have told her."

While he was saying all this, he unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop to
the floor. I looked down to see him bend over slightly to take off his
underwear. I watched his creamy white bubble butt appear.

I would later put most of the blame on the alcohol for what I did next. In
my 33 years of life, I never would have imagined doing it. So it was simply
those instincts of mine telling me to go boldly forward. As he began to
straighten back up, I placed my hand on his ass. I knew from the day before
that he liked his hole to be touched. And I remembered that he had tried to
put his finger in my ass while I lay on his bed the night before. I knew at
that moment that he would like to have my finger inside of him. So, as soon
as I found his hole I slipped in my middle finger.

He gasped and said, "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

For the next several seconds, I was amazed by what was happening. I was
trying to push my finger into his body's most private hole. But it was
difficult. Not only did the skin of his anus provide resistance, but his
butt muscle was clamped shut.

Jeremy grabbed my hand, pulled it up to his face and sucked three of my
fingers into his mouth. He spread his saliva generously on them, then put
my hand back down to his hole. I felt so stupid for not thinking about the
need for lubrication. It was clear his ass would not have the natural
lubrication that a woman's pussy would.

I tried again to slip the finger in. It slid further, but the muscle was
still extremely tight. Then Jeremy pulled my cock through my fly, bent over
and sucked my cock into his mouth. We were in the same position as the girl
and step-father in one of the videos I had been watching the night
before. Whereas the step-father in that video was fingering his
step-daughter's teenage pussy, this step-father was fingering his
step-son's teenage ass. A dollop of pre-cum slid from my cock into my son's
hungry mouth.

A moment later, the vice-like grip his hole had on my finger loosened. His
hole opened up and I could slip my finger in further. Now that I was
feeling the inside of his ass, I started getting conflicted. The discomfort
I had felt the day before when he had placed my finger on his hole for the
first time was returning. I did not like the idea of having my finger
inside my step-son's hole, or anyone's butt hole for that matter. It seemed
like a taboo and dirty thing.

But on the other hand, I could sense that it was really turning him on. He
started sucking my cock more earnestly. A few times he pulled off and
simply gasped for breath and ground his ass on my finger, clearly loving
the feeling of it in his hole. That was enough for me to get past my
hang-ups about it. I pushed my finger in as far as I could, given the odd
position. I then concentrated on fucking it in and out.

It was tight. It was warm. It was moist. The walls of his tunnel were silky
and squishy. It was interesting how the main opening would go from tightly
clamping down on my finger to opening up and letting me slide it in and out
freely. I wasn't sure if Jeremy was exerting control over his anal opening,
or if his body was reacting naturally to all of the stimuli it was
experiencing.

Jeremy released my cock then straightened up. I started to withdraw my
finger, but he placed his hand on mine and pressed it against his ass. I
understood. He wanted my finger inside. He grabbed his adolescent cock with
one hand and wrapped the other around my waist, as he leaned back against
my chest. He began gyrating his hips, fucking himself on my finger. I
looked into his eyes. He was staring up at me, his grey eyes unfocused and
mouth slightly agape. He jacked his cock and fucked my finger.

Then he looked down at his teenage cock. His ass clamped so hard that it
almost hurt me. I looked down and I saw that he was cumming. Spurt after
spurt of his adolescent baby batter was shooting from his cock and landing
on the side of one of the boxes in front of us. I could hear the "splat!"
as each load forcefully hit the cardboard.

Throughout his entire orgasm, his ass ring maintained its vice-like grip on
my finger. I wanted to pull out, to give my finger some relief. But I was
pretty sure that it was a great source of the pleasure Jeremy was feeling
at that moment. To pull out before he was done would have been selfish. So
I held it firmly in place and watched as his cum splattered all over the
box in front of us.

His head fell back against my chest when he was done cumming. A few moments
later, he eased up his grip on my wrist and allowed me to withdraw my
finger from his hole. Jeremy was breathing hard as I cupped the nape of his
neck in my hand and held him.

He continued to breathe heavily as his orgasm subsided. Meanwhile, looking
down at the expression on his satisfied face, and remembering the feeling
of my finger in his ass, I jacked my own load out. I suppressed a loud
moan, but my body shook from the pleasure. Jeremy opened his eyes and
looked down to watch my cum spew from my cock and hit the same box, mixing
with his own load. He whispered, "Yeah, shoot for me. Oh that's hot. I wish
I were swallowing all of that."

My body spasmed a few more times as the final strands of cum exited my
shaft. Then I flicked off the cum that had oozed onto my hand and I pulled
my son close to me. Finding it hard to catch my breath, I held him tight
and caressed his head, his neck and his back. Oh my god, it felt good at
that moment to hold him.

I felt his kisses on my chest and my neck. I held him tighter.

A few moments later, it was over. My mind began to clear, though I still
had an alcohol buzz. I gently pushed my step-son from my arms so I could
zip up my pants. Then I cursed, "Damn! I didn't wear underwear. I'm going
to leak all over the inside of my pants."

Jeremy grabbed my cock and said, "Keep it out for now. I'll drink anything
that leaks out."

I looked down at him, "You are one nasty boy, aren't you?"

He said, "Uh huh." He squatted down and licked as much of the cum off the
box that he could. "Mmm...this is tasty. Your cum mixed with mine. Yumm..."
Then he turned to my cock and licked off some post-cum that was gathering
on my cockhead.

As much as I would have enjoyed having my personal cocksucker kneeling at
my feet for as long as it took for my cock to stop leaking post-cum, I
needed to get back to work, and we both needed to stop pushing our
luck. The longer we did this, the more likely Beth would find us.

I ran my hand through his blond hair and said, "I know you'd like to do
that. But I have a better idea. Go get me a pair of briefs from my
dresser."

He gave me a dejected look, then smiled, "Hey. I thought you were a
free-balling boxer wearer."

I shook my head, "Get to it! And don't let your mother see. I'd love to
watch you try to explain what you're doing with a pair of my underwear in
your hands!"

As he walked to the door, I watched him. I was amazed at how much influence
he was having on me in such a short amount of time.

I stood behind the boxes with my cock hanging through my fly while I waited
for him to return. I kept wiping droplets of post-cum from the tip and
smearing them on the box. It was already thoroughly stained from our cum
loads. What would a little more semen hurt?

All alone in the garage, with my horniness sated, I felt a wave of guilt. I
studied the finger I had used to penetrate Jeremy's butt hole. I couldn't
believe I had put it inside him. I half expected to see some sign of my
horrible deed, but there was nothing. It was as clean as my other fingers
and it didn't have the words "pervert" or "I fingered my step-son"
magically tattooed on it. I sighed and thought that surely at some point
there would be some kind of sign, some evidence that my wife would find
that would proclaim my guilt. How much longer could I do this type of stuff
with Jeremy without his mother finding out?

Jeremy returned with the underwear. "Mom didn't even notice me."

He got to his knees to lick my cock dry before I pulled up the fresh
underwear and hid it inside them. He then said, "I got a little hard going
through your underwear drawer."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes, "You're insatiable. Now get out of
here. I have a lot of work to do. And I have to finish it before our dinner
guests arrive."

I had to admit I enjoyed his playfulness. I was glad his state of mind was
improving. As each day passed, the trauma of the arrest in the park seemed
to be further away.

End of Chapter 4.