My Son

Control?

My encounters with my husband's (yes, we got married) son kept increasing, so I finally decided I really should talk a bit more with Michael about the whole situation.

Wow. That was not where I was looking for this to go at all. Michael, I would increasingly see, was so worried about his guilt towards his son that he was extremely pleased that Jeff was "reaching out to me" so well, and had already concluded that me being around seemed to be helping the two of them get along better than Michael had ever dreamed. He even went so far as to speculate how cool it might be if Jeff were gay as well, so Michael actually grew increasingly horny towards me (even if we almost never missed a day of sex as it was already), and it almost seemed like he was doing almost everything he could to encourage Jeff, however he might be able to.

In the meantime, of course I started stumbling across Jeff in all those places where parents might catch their sons: jerking off and falling asleep with cum all over, seemingly hanging out more and more often naked, or as close to it as he dared, sleeping naked and kicking off the sheets, with me needing to wake him up for school as he lied there with a hard dick. Even that stopped him less and less as he insisted on giving me a good morning kiss, even at times as he lied there having just shot a load, seemingly less and less inhibited at where he found me, plus increasingly turning to me to make sure he looked good as he headed out the door: his hair, his clothes, everything.

I tried talking to a friend or two about it, but I had yet to stumble across anyone other than guys who thought it was "so so cool" as they encouraged me to help it along.

That was definitely not something I needed to do. Jeff had almost made it a hobby to see me naked at least every other day, and even found me hard on occasion: "That's so cool, dad. Now I don't need to feel so guilty about when you stumble across me, right?"

But of course Jeff wasn't stopping there, as I kept working on trying to keep my jaw from dropping: "So is dad really able to take you all the way up his ass?" I didn't really succeed from being at least a bit shocked, but that was turning into the smell of blood for a lion, as I finally had to go there and let him know I was actually a bottom: "Fuck. Really? That seems like such a shame given that beautiful huge dick of yours. But you do still cum, right? Damn." And he laughed: "I guess I should be looking at your ass more."

The more I shared those kinds of stories with Michael, the more Michael seemed pleased, and the hornier he kept getting. Michael was now fucking me at least twice a day, feeling less and less inclined to even close our bedroom door at times, and being way more affectionate in front of Jeff that I would ever have imagined. I had lost all confidence as to whether that was his idea or Jeff's, as Jeff even popped in on us once as Michael was fucking me. The little shit was the least bit apologetic, and Michael probably fucked me harder than ever once Jeff headed out.

If that was a developing cue, Jeff was all over it. He was now kissing both me and Michael on the lips at least every morning and night, and doing almost all he could do to slip a bit of his tongue inside my mouth as he kissed me, even more so when his dad wasn't around.

On top of that, I would be lying to say Jeff wasn't growing even more and more charming, so it was impossible not to be very proud of him. His grades were great, he was such a successful athlete, he worked hard, mentally and physically. And his body seemed to be growing into one even more beautiful than his dad's, and even his dick seemed to be outgrowing Michael's, which was no small feat given that Michael was almost 10 thick inches himself, with two brothers who I had been told were also well hung.

So whenever Jeff wanted me around, of course I did everything I could to say yes, even when he wanted to get up close and personal. And then Thursday night happened.

I went up to say goodnight to Jeff. He got me to sit by him on his bed after I kissed him, as he slipped off his underwear and threw in on the floor. "Would it be bad if I'm not attracted to women, dad?"

Of course I wasn't going to be unsupportive there. Who wouldn't be glad to see their kid grow up like him? And who would be lucky enough to marry into a family with a kid as talented, or as attractive, or as hard-working, as Jeff? So I comforted him, we talked for a bit, and he told me how much he loved me. I kissed him good night one more time. "You must know I have dreams about you every now and then, dad. Don't be mad at me." And he hugged me.

I did not walk away from that encounter soft, or even semi-hard. When I went down to get in bed with Michael, he seemed to get hornier than ever as he fucked me, shooting three times as he told me how much he loved me. "Don't be so uptight, baby. Imagine how wonderful life would have been if either you or me had had a dad like you." My dick was so hard as he said that. I couldn't even help shooting, without even touching myself.

Michael noticed, and held me close and smiled: "Don't get me tempted to take this up and ask Jeff whether he wouldn't like a taste."

"Damn. You're evil."

"You wish. I love you."