Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Two Kinky Steps free porn video
My mom was the youngest of three sisters and she had stayed at home and taken care of my old widowed grandfather until he died, so she was thirty-three before she married. My dad was fifty-six. He had been married before and after fifteen years of marriage, his first wife had divorced him. There had been no children.
I was born a little more than a year after he and my mom got married. They doted on me, and I was probably spoiled, in as much as they were able to.
My dad had only a sixth grade education, but wasn’t built for manual labor. He had ended up being a grocer, so we always had food on the table, but little else. I think we would have been classified as lower-middle-class. He was a heavy smoker and when I was ten and he had just turned sixty-eight he died of lung cancer.
He hadn't left us with any insurance. Mom worked at different odd jobs, mostly cleaning other people's houses. I know now she struggled to make ends meet, although as a kid I didn’t realize just how difficult things were for her. We evidently limped ahead for four years, and then she met and soon after married Stewart Talbot. Stewart was forty. Yes, he was eight years younger than Mom. He also had been married and his wife had divorced him, but in his case, he had a son, who was eighteen when he became my step-brother.
I’d never fantasized about having a sibling. I was content with being an only child, so I wasn’t thrilled about suddenly getting a brother. But the four year age difference meant we didn’t have much in common, so Tatum didn’t waste any of his time trying to get to know me, and soon after he was off to college, coming home only for holidays and occasional visits.
You might wonder why I called Stewart by his first name, instead of Dad or even Mr. Talbot. It was because everyone called him Stewart, including Tatum. The only time I ever heard him say dad was when he was talking to someone who didn’t know who Stewart was.
At about the same time Mom and Stewart got married, I began to figure out I didn’t like girls as much as I did boys. I would say in the same way I liked boys, but I hadn’t reached that stage yet. Maybe I’m a late bloomer, but I really wasn’t having overt sexual thoughts about them.
Anyhow, I was fully sixteen before I began having daydreams about boys, and of all people the boy I dreamed about most was Tatum. This was most confusing, but on those occasions when he was home visiting, I couldn’t keep my eyes, or my thoughts, off of him. And I had to admit to myself I wanted to see the big bulge in the front of his pants in the flesh. Sometimes it wasn’t a bulge, but you could see it hanging down the leg, flopping around when he was jogging.
Tatum wasn’t an Adonis, or a stud, or a jock, or any of those other nouns. He was nice looking, but no more, and he was big. I guess you could call him beefy, but I don’t mean fat or flabby. He just was big – a big frame with plenty of meat on his bones. And he exercised, doing a variety of things, but not all together. Jogging was just one of them, but I liked to watch him run because the outline of his dick was more visible then than at other times.
And of course, with time, he became aware or my ogling his manhood, and he began making snide remarks, sort of under his breath but clearly meant to be heard by me. I was disturbed by them, but at the same time, they meant he was noticing me and was getting my message. Stupid yes, but I had no idea at all how to communicate my interest to him, and no thought he might turn on me and reject my interest. And he didn’t.
Because, as I said, I didn’t see him often. It was not until he graduated from university and came home to stay that anything happened. And even then it didn’t immediately happen. But after a couple of months, when we were in the house alone one day, I was in my room on Facebook when he walked into my room.
“Damion,” he said straight out, “you like cock, don’t you? Crazy question – sure you do – you’re a little queer. I guess what I mean is, you like this cock.”
He clutched his dick through the fabric of his pants and made it clearly visible. I was shocked. My heart jumped up into my throat preventing me from saying anything. I turned cold and trembled, a pain forming in my chest. Remember, I was an eighteen-year-old virgin with no experience of any kind. I was like a rabbit trapped in a car’s headlights.
He walked over to the swivel chair I was sitting in so he was only about two feet from my face.
“The thing is, I haven’t fucked in weeks, and I’m horny as hell. I’d like a good blowjob, and it might as well be you. How ‘bout it?”
I was hypnotized by the outline of his dick. My mouth filled with saliva and I swallowed and probably licked my lips. Tatum stepped forward so my legs were between his, grabbed the back of my head and pulled my head forward at the same time he pushed his crotch into my face, saying,
“Bite my cock. Let me feel those teeth. Get my pants wet just like Dolores does.”
I have no idea who Dolores was, but I didn’t care. I opened my mouth and ran it up and down his dick, feeling its firmness through his pants. In minutes I had the front of his pants soaked in spit. He pulled back and undid his pants, letting them drop to his knees. I went back to gently biting his dick through his white briefs, until they were wet too.
I couldn’t wait any longer. The pent-up desires of the years came roaring to the fore and I grasped the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down, pulling his dick down too until it sprang free and popped up hitting me under the chin. I grabbed for it with my mouth and licked it on all sides, slobbering all over it.
Tatum took hold of it, pointed it at my mouth and commanded, “Open wide!”
I did as told and he shoved it in until it hit the back of my throat, making me gag.
He hissed, “Open your throat and take it all. And no teeth now.”
He was still holding my head and he proceeded to fuck my mouth fast and hard. I had to open my throat or choke. While fucking my mouth he moved my head back and forth, using it to jack his dick. My breathing was sporadic.
Sometimes he’d let up on the rhythmic fucking motion and jab it into each word when he said things like, “Yeah – suck – my – cock – you – cock – sucker.”
It took about ten minutes of this until he said, “Yeah – take – my – cum – you – cum – eater,” filling my mouth and throat with the first cum I had ever tasted. I swallowed it all without hesitation. I immediately wished I had held it in my mouth longer to get the whole taste sensation. He held me with my face smashed against his pubic hair patch for a good minute – me trying to suck air in through my nose – as his dick went soft and he recovered his senses.
He pulled back making his dick leave my mouth with a loud “pop” and said, “That was pretty good, Damion. You’re a pro. Thanks.”
No rancor, no name-calling, a friendly smile and he turned and walked out.
Later that week he moved out of the house into his own apartment. He’d started working right after he graduated and now had the money to set up on his own. My mind was still reeling from our encounter, and wondered if that was just a one-time relief episode for him.
But a little over a week later he called me on a Sunday and told me to come over. I really mean “told me”, not “asked me.” That started a more or less regular sex routine – “more or less” because it wasn’t regular. There could be days or weeks between phone calls. Each time was different than the others in some way – sometimes a lot different and sometimes only slightly.
I can give you a couple of examples for you to see. Once he had me get on my knees on the floor and he stood in front of me and had me suck his dick, and before he came he pulled it out, told me to open my mouth and stick out my tongue and he beat off, shooting his cum into my open mouth.
He then said, “Swallow that load and stick your tongue back out so I can wipe my cock off.”
When we were having sex he was always domineering and verbally abusive, but I quickly came to accept it. First, I didn’t know any better, and second, when it was over he reverted to his nice self.
Another time he had me strip, (I never understood why he wanted me naked when we had sex. He never touched me.) and lie on my back in the middle of the bed. He told me to stick out my tongue and keep it wet. You know, tuck it back into my mouth to rewet it and stick it back out.
He stripped too, and got over me and lowered his body until his chest was touching my tongue. He moved around so I was licking his chest all over. He would move his nipple in a circular motion and then slide over to the other nipple. He had his head down watching the whole process. He slowly moved up so I licked all over his stomach, wetting his body with my spit. I kept having to wet my tongue over and over.
When he had moved up, scooting like an alligator, until his dick was over my mouth, he rubbed his dick all over my face, saying, “That’s it cocksucker, love my cock. Lick it good. Get it sloppy wet.”
He continued until I was licking his hairy ball sack. He swathed his wet balls over my face. I wondered if he was going to make me lick his ass, but he reversed directions and I licked back up his body to his chest, and then back down again until he stuck his dick in my mouth and fucked my face until he came, all the time telling me what to do in the crudest ways possible.
I might as well add that once after that time he did sit on my face, rubbing his ass all over my face and telling me to lick his asshole. That was something I had never imagined doing, but I have to admit it was a turn-on. By the way, I almost always beat off afterward, reliving what had just happened. And I repeated that during the days or weeks between our sessions.
One other nasty detail: Every time he face-fucked me, after he finished cumming he lay there, his dick down my throat until it completely softened, and then he’d squirt a very small amount of piss in my mouth – just a shot-glass full. I was trapped under two-hundred-plus-pounds of man and couldn’t move or protest. I came to anticipate it.
After several months of raw sex, one day arrived when he said, “You have a nice ass. I’d fuck it, but I don’t like using rubbers and I don’t want a shitty cock.”
I had of course, thought about him fucking me, but I didn’t know enough to know how that worked, so I’d never mentioned it.
He continued, “I bet my old man would love to fuck it, if he hasn’t already. Has he?”
I was stunned. “Stewart?” I stupidly asked.
“Yeah. You don’t know he’s into this too? Ha! He’d fuck you blind. Would you like that?”
My mind was swirling too fast for me to come up with an answer. This is where I should tell you that I had always been aware that there was a different kind of relationship between Stewart and Tatum. They didn’t seem like father and son, but more like buddies. There always seemed to be an unseen secret between them.
Nothing else was said that day. It was only a week later when Tatum called and this time asked me to come to his apartment. I should have known something was up. When I got there he smiled and asked me how I was. He then told me to get naked there in the living room. I kind of hesitated, but he began getting undressed, so I just guessed this was a new kink.
When we were both naked he said, “Let’s go in the bedroom.”
He walked before me and opened the door, stepped aside and let me go through with his hand firmly on my back. I stopped dead, but he pushed me in, closed the door and locked it. There, lying on the bed, naked, was Stewart.
Tatum said, “Stewart is going to fuck your virgin ass, and I’m gonna watch. Okay?”
The ‘okay’ wasn’t really a question. He pushed me toward the bed again. I don’t know if at that moment I felt I didn’t have a chance to flee, or I was excited about the whole thing.
I haven’t said what Stewart looked like, but there isn’t much to say. He was pretty average. I mean he wasn’t handsome, but there wasn’t anything negative to say about him.
He wasn’t as big as Tatum, but he had a pretty good body for a forty-four-year-old man. He wasn’t muscular, or even firm, and there were bulges, but there was no flab. I kind of liked it. I don’t know if it was because I was still at the age where I liked mature men – or the fact he was my step-father. I know the fact that it was taboo had lent a degree of naughtiness to what I did with Tatum. In addition, the hard dick Stewart was holding, was every bit as long as Tatum’s, and a little fatter.
He got off the bed and said, “I want to fuck you Damion, a lot. I want to bust your cherry. Can I?”
I didn’t know how to say no. I just sort of nodded.
Tatum said, “Get up on the bed. How do you want him, Dad?”
That word “Dad” seemed to ring out loud in the quiet of the room.
Stewart said to me, “Lie on your back, son.”
I think that was the first – and only time – he called me son. I got on the bed.
He climbed on the bed on his knees and said, “Lift your legs and hold them up. I think I’m going to have to loosen you up before I can get in there.”
I raised my legs but he said, “No, bend your knees and hold them to your chest. Boy, you really are new at this.”
As usual, I did as told and I felt his finger touching and caressing my asshole. Just that made my dick get hard. I glanced at Tatum, who was standing by the bed watching everything. He had his hard dick in his hand, slowly stroking it. He kind of grinned at me and winked.
Stewart stuck his middle finger up to my mouth and said, “Here, suck my finger and get it good and wet. That should help.”
I opened my mouth and he stuck it in and I sucked on it just as I did Tatum’s dick. Stewart pulled it out and put it against my hole and pushed and it slid in. It was the first time I’d ever had anything enter my butt, and I made a little gasp.
He moved it around and I wanted to squirm with it. He pulled it out and pushed it back in a few times, and then stuck another finger in with it. After moving those two in and out and twisting them back and forth he added a third. Another minute of that and he pulled them out and lifted my butt a little higher.
To my surprise he buried his face in my ass crack and began licking it up and down it, pressing his tongue flat against my hole. I suddenly knew why Tatum had had me lick his. I couldn’t help but moan. He continued his attack with his tongue, forcing it in where his fingers had just been.
Tatum almost yelled, “Yeah, Stewart, eat out his ass good. Get it good and hot for your fat cock.”
He flopped down on the bed beside me, lying on his side propped up on one elbow and jacking his dick with the other hand. Stewart came up from between my legs and I looked down between my raised legs at him. He tore open a condom envelope with his teeth and rolled it down over his dick.
I think I’m going to need some lubricant. Toss me that bottle, Tatum,” he said.
Tatum reached behind himself and grabbed the bottle and handed it to Stewart, who flipped open the cap and squirted a liquid gel on his erection and then onto my asshole. It felt cold after his hot tongue, and I jumped.
He simply said, “Okay, we’re ready. Get ready for the ride of your life, cherry boy.”
He looked down at his dick as he guided it to my waiting asshole and pushed it in. This time I let out a clearly audible gasp. There was a searing tearing pain that made my sphincter spasm, but it quickly waned and was replaced with a warmth, and a fantastic feeling of fullness. After pausing for a couple of seconds and glancing at my face, he proceeded to push in until I felt his pubic hair touching my butt.
He simply asked, “You like?”
I had to smile, “Yeah.”
Tatum said, “Hey, I have to have a record of this.”
He got off the bed, and as Stewart pulled his dick out and then eased it back in Tatum went out in the living room where he had left his pants and came back in with his cell phone.
While Stewart picked up speed and began slamming his dick in and out of my ass, slapping his low-hanging ball sack against my butt, Tatum moved around making a video of the action. I noticed heTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
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- 09.07.2021
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