Stepdaughters Have Fun With Their Stepfathers
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My Bi Step-Father free porn video
I turned sixteen just after the school year ended, and I was looking forward to the coming year. My dad worked for a man who had a daughter a year older than me, and he had given her a big sixteenth birthday party – sort of a coming-out thing. My family had been invited, and I’d had a wonderful time. All of this may have been the reason I had such great expectations for my sixteenth year.
Whatever the reason, the year started out great. The summer crept by and every day was about perfect. I spent many days at the local pool, hung out at the Boys’ and Girls’ Club, and generally goofed off.
Summer ended and I went back to school. In my town, the high school was grades ten through twelve, and I entered the tenth grade. I had known many of my fellow students ever since the first grade. The high school served two junior highs, so there were also a lot of new kids.
One of them was a boy named Jerry. In walking home I discovered he lived about half-way between the school and my house. In time, we joined up, chatted and got to know each other. I liked the way he looked and thought he was cool. I was a month older than him and we thought there was some meaning that my birthday was 6/7/88 and his was 7/6/88.
As the weeks grew into months we became good friends, and I’d often stop off at his house on the way home and spend the afternoon. He had a basketball hoop over the garage door, and we’d play there for hours. Or, if the weather wasn’t good, we’d be inside playing video games.
On one of those days when the weather was cold and blustery, we were in the house and no one else was at home. We, somehow, started talking about sex, the things we had done, and the feelings we had. I can’t really explain it, but we continued exploring our sexuality bit by bit, and it built up to the point that I gave him a blow-job.
That was my first sexual experience with another person, and it was fantastic. I loved it. It was strictly a one-way sex act – he didn’t return the favor – but I was hooked. A door had been opened and I was in love.
But the door soon slammed shut.
Unbelievably, Jerry told one, or some, of his other friends. I’m sure he left out the part where he had jacked my dick. The word spread and I was taunted, humiliated, traumatized. I was bullied, but never attacked. I was taller than a lot of the other guys, and they knew I was a fighter. They never tried ganging up on me, but my life was miserable. I skipped school.
My parents found out, first about me playing hooky, and then about the scandal. They were amazingly sympathetic and stood behind me. As time goes by these things have a way of working themselves out and being forgotten, but not my inner trauma. These newly discovered sexual feelings were locked away, which left me with no sexual feelings.
I grew up.
When I was eighteen my dad sat me down and said something like, “Blake, you’re a man now. You may not be able to drink legally, but in my eye you’re a man. Your mom and I have decided to call it quits. We haven’t been together for several years. We stuck it out because of you, but now I’m going. Your mom loves you very much. Look out for her, and I wish you good luck.”
As soon as the divorce was final he married a woman I had never met and they moved across the country to San Diego. They, that is, my parents, had set up a college fund for me when I was born, so my education was provided for. Mom didn’t want me to move out, so I never did. I had no reason to. I wasn’t getting married, and I didn’t have a lover. My mom’s house was paid for, and she had for years held the same job as a receptionist at a big farm machinery company, so she was set.
I’ve heard some people say my mom is self-centered. She’s always taking up new projects, like knitting or quilting or jewelry making or cake decorating. She doesn’t take them up and drop them. She continues with them for some time so they often overlap.
She had also become interested in various religions. She flirted with Catholicism, studied Judaism, practiced Buddhism, and joined a group I’d never heard of, but who had a fancy temple. She assured me it wasn’t a cult. The point is, all of these things were all about her. But, as a son I never had any complaints. To me, she was a good mother
When I was twenty-seven, she announced she wanted to get married again. I knew she had been dating this man, whose name was Hunter, but I didn’t know it was that serious. If it didn’t upset my life, I had no objection. However, when I met him I was surprised, and wondered why he wanted to marry my mom. He was only twelve years older than me, and fifteen years younger than her.
I could see why she would want to marry him. He was a good-looking guy with a mature, but nice, build. Not that my mom isn’t good-looking. It was just the age difference. I knew he wasn’t marrying her for her money, as she didn’t have any, other than the house. He had more than she did. He didn’t have a house, but he had a really nice car and a good job. But, he seemed to make her happy, and I had no grounds for objection. But, there was no way I was ever going to call him “Dad”.
They married, he moved in, and things went smoothly. We got along well, and often sat and talked for hours, getting to know each other. My mom said he was easy to talk to and was a good listener, and I saw she was right. She also felt she could confide in him. I hadn’t gotten to that point yet, but I enjoyed his company. During one of those conversations I came right out and asked him why he had married my mom.
He didn’t take offense to the question and said, “Well Blake, your mom’s a very attractive woman. She’s smart, full of life, and fun. She’s settled and knows what she wants. She has her quirks, but that’s part of her charm. She’s just a good person, and I think I can satisfy her.”
That last part was more information than I wanted to know, but I had to agree with the rest of it. Later, I realized he’d never said anything about love.
We had many of those types of conversations during the first year of their marriage, but then we had one that changed things forever.
That one began much like all the others, but somewhere in it Hunter said, “Blake, I want to tell you something. It’s about me and something about my past. Just hear me out.”
He sat a moment, and I thought maybe he was waiting for a reaction from me, so I said, “Okay.”
He smiled.
“To jump right into it, when I was sixteen, I think- maybe older- but now, it seems I was young; I was waiting for the bus going someplace, or going home from someplace. It was at night, and I probably shouldn’t have been out at that hour. Some guy, a man, pulled up and offered me a ride. Back then we hadn’t been warned about taking candy, or rides, from strangers. I got in the car and he took me someplace secluded and dark and gave me a blowjob.”
The hair on the back of my neck sprang to attention. What the hell…? Why was he telling me this?
He glanced at me and continued, “Almost everyone would say that’s a terrible thing to do to a teen, and I won’t argue with them, but I loved it. If I had known where to find the guy, I would have gone looking for him.”
He stopped and looked at me again. The thought in my head was, What did my mom tell him, and for God’s sake, why?
He said, “That was it, but I didn’t forget it. I grew up in a small town much like this one, but in the ‘Bible-Belt’. But now, I think there was probably a lot of hypocritical shit going on behind closed doors."
“In a couple of years I started dating girls and in high school I went steady a couple of times. Then I went away to college and discovered girls who were out on their own for the first time, and, like the guys, they wanted to kick up their heels. I fucked for the first time – and fucked a lot.”
He waited to see if his forthright language was going to get a reaction from me. I kind of liked it.
He shifted in his seat and went on. “I also discovered there were quite a few guys who liked to give blowjobs, and I loved it as much as I had when I was sixteen. A little later, I found out a lot of those guys liked getting fucked in the ass, and I liked that even more. Fucking an asshole is different than fucking a pussy, but saying it’s different isn’t saying it isn’t as good, at least in my opinion.”
He stopped and sat looking at me, this time obviously waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t say anything. My brain was swirling around in my cranium. Why was he telling me this? What did he know about me I didn’t know he knew? This was about him more than twenty years ago. Why talk about it now? What did he want me to say? Could I just disappear from here in a puff of smoke?
He said, “Is there anything you want to ask?”
I felt trapped, and instead of just saying “No,” I felt I had to say something more substantial.
I said, “But that was long time ago, when you were young.”
He smiled slightly and said, “Yeah, that’s when it started, but that isn’t saying it stopped then. I mean, opportunities arrived, off and on, over the years. It’s called man-sex. I’m taking about sexual relief and sexual satisfaction, not romance. If you want romance, I’m not your guy. You’d have to find another gay guy.”
Again we sat silently – then he stood up and said, “I just wanted to put that out there, between us, man to man. Think about it, that’s all.”
He turned and went down the hall to their room.
The next several days my mind was in turmoil. I had trouble concentrating at work. It took a long time for me to fall asleep at night. Everything around the house seemed normal, but it wasn’t.
Friday nights were one of those times when Mom was out late, involved in one of her many pursuits. This particular Friday I came home from work about six and changed out of my work clothes into something comfortable. I heard Hunter come in and later heard the shower running. Shortly after the shower shut off he came and knocked on my door.
I called out, “Come in,” and he opened the door and stepped into the room. He was wearing a terrycloth robe and was barefoot.
He said, “Good evening, Blake. I was just wondering if you had thought anything about our conversation the other night.”
I had to laugh. “God, Hunter, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. You kind of fucked with my mind.”
He smiled. “I didn’t want to do that. That isn’t what I wanted to fuck with, you might say. But, seriously, I had hoped to clear out your mind. So, I didn’t, huh?”
“I don’t know, Hunter. It’s just something I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, think about for so long. It’s hard for me to accept it all at once.”
He smiled again and said, “Well, when you’re ready, just remember I’m available.”
He turned and started out the door and I said, “Hunter!”
He turned back.
“Uh… I’m ready,” I said.
We just looked at each other for several long seconds, and then he said, “I bet you are. Hold on. I’ll be right back.”
He went down the hall to the bath and came back with a bottle in his hand. I guess I looked puzzled.
He held it up and said, “Lubricant. If you’re a virgin we’ll need it.”
He took off his robe and said, “Are we going to do this with you fully dressed?”
I stood up and began to strip off my clothes, all the while looking at him, his body and his limp dick. For a forty-year-old man he was in very good shape, and his dick was impressive.
When I was naked I felt a little shy. I can’t say if it was because I wasn’t used to being naked in front of another man, or I felt inadequate compared to him, or because this was my step-father. I don’t think it was the latter. I got on the bed and he stood beside the bed.
He asked, “Could you get me hard? I mean, would you mind?”
He kind of picked up his dick and pointed it at me. I remembered Jerry. What a long time ago, and how different. I leaned forward and closed my eyes and took his dick in my mouth. He lightly laid his hand on my head and I felt it stirring in my mouth. It felt alive. I moved it around in my mouth with my tongue and sucked on it. I was in heaven. It grew long and firm and I moved my head back and forth its length.
He pulled it out of my mouth and said, “That’s enough foreplay.”
I wanted to take it back in my mouth and suck it some more. I didn’t have any other dicks to compare it to, but to me it looked really big, and I liked the shape of it. I was suddenly in love with Hunter’s dick.
He said, “Remember, the other night? I said I liked fucking ass even more than getting sucked off. I want to fuck you. Okay?”
I wasn’t about to say no.
He got on the bed on his knees and said, “You probably don’t know, but there are several ways of doing this. A lot of guys like to do it from behind, but I prefer something a little more personal. Let me show you how I like to do it first.”
He handed me the bottle and said, “Here, oil up your hole real good so I can get in easily.”
While I was smearing the lube on my asshole he got some tissues for me to wipe off my hand. He was on his knees sitting back on his heels. He told me to lie on my back with my legs spread. He turned me so my crotch was facing his, took hold of my legs and pulled me to him. He lifted my legs so my ass came up and he pulled me a little more and his dick touched my asshole.
He said, “Okay, now relax and let me do the work. Just lie there and take it easy. Something really nice: we don’t have to use condoms.”
If all this sounds cut and dried, it was. And, it was perfect. It was clinical, like following the doctor’s orders in the examination room, and I don’t think I could have done it otherwise. In the state I was in I needed it to be impersonal, and he somehow knew that. He made it seem so usual, so normal, so completelyTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
Cayleigh
- 06.01.2022
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