Parole Dad

At the age of thirteen, my family life imploded when my stepfather was sent to prison for ten years, having been found guilty of manslaughter. He would only be eligible for parole eight years later. I loved my stepfather and although he was a ‘fun’ dad, he was also a hooligan who never grew up. He was perpetually in shit and drifted from one job to another. Pool-hall fights were a weekly occurrence in his life and on one occasion he simply went too far. A year after his incarceration my mother filed for divorce and decided to move on with her life. I spoke to him every week during his jail term and visited him every second month in the penitentiary.

Dad’s first parole application was turned down the year after I completed college, but one year later he got the green light. I had my own apartment at this time and his parole was conditional on him living with me for the following year. I wasn’t keen on this arrangement but did what I had to do. His parole officer managed to secure a security guard job for dad at a warehouse where he worked a daytime shift. Fortunately, I had a spare room that he could use.

Duncan, (my stepfather always insisted on me referring to him by his first name) was a good-looking man. Not as good looking as he had been before prison, but still hot for a forty-five-year-old man. Jail had aged him and given him a rougher edge.

The parole officer made it very clear, that dad’s life would consist of him either being at work or home for the following twelve months. Duncan was not allowed to frequent bars, and any excursions that were planned had to be authorized by the parole officer. I informed dad that I was not going to be a nursemaid and that if he fucked-up, he was on his own. Willing as I was to help Duncan out, I wasn’t going to have my life turned upside down by infantile behaviour. I believe he got the message loud and clear. Our first two weeks together were rather uneventful, and I was amazed by his acquiescence.

Two weeks later, on a Friday evening, Duncan surprised me by asking if an old prison buddy could visit on Saturday evening. Alf (Alfonso), and Duncan had been cell buddies for a few years and dad intimated, that he would love to see Alf again. Naturally, I agreed. Although dad only had a few tattoos on his upper arms, Alf was festooned with tattoos. He had a tattoo of Jesus on the one side of his neck, and Mother Mary on the other side. This was apart from an abundance of other Catholic symbols all over his arms, body, and legs. Like, dad, Alf was slim and around six feet tall. Alf had a swarthy complexion and a full mop of long black hair that he wore in a ponytail. Although he was a man in his late forties, I was amazed that he only had a few flecks of grey hair.

Alf was good-looking and must have been hot as a younger man. In fact, he was still fucking hot! After dinner, we sat around chatting till ten-thirty, before I announced that I needed to head off to bed. I put a sleeping bag in the lounge, for Alf. Promising that they would be as quiet as possible, I told them not to worry as I had earplugs, I could use. Once in bed, I inserted my earplugs and drifted off to sleep. Awaking at one a.m., I needed to piss. After completing this ritual I decided to see if Alf was comfortable on the couch, in the lounge. To my astonishment, the unfolded sleeping bag was where I had placed it. Returning to my room, I noticed a faint light emanating from stepdad’s keyhole.

After removing one of my earplugs, I heard sexual sounds emanating from Duncan’s room. Peering through the keyhole I could see two pairs of legs, one on top of the other, facing downwards. The legs on the top were covered in tattoos, so there was no doubt that Alf was fucking my stepfather. I watched mesmerized for a few minutes, before returning to my bed.

‘Fuck… They weren’t just prison buddies… They were prison lovers,’ I thought, before finally drifting off to sleep.

The following morning when I moved through to the kitchen Alf was in the sleeping bag. Shortly after breakfast, he went on his way. On Friday night, Duncan again asked if Alf could visit on Saturday evening, and of course, I agreed. I decided to give them some alone time, stating that I had been invited out for dinner, and probably wouldn’t be back until the next morning. I had a light meal at a local diner, before heading off to a favourite action bar down the road from my home. It was a good evening at the bar, and I had a few successful hook-ups during my stay. At twelve-thirty a.m., having had enough, I headed home.

Entering my apartment silently, I observed that dad’s room door was slightly ajar. As I peered in, Alf was on his stomach, with Duncan on top leisurely humping Alf’s backside. I stood there quietly watching the hot scene with a raging hard-on. After several minutes, I left toward my room.

The following morning as I made breakfast, Duncan emerged from his bedroom somewhat flustered. He made some lame excuse about how they had fallen asleep on his bed. With an impish grin, I stared at Duncan. Chuckling, I told him that breakfast would be ready in fifteen minutes.

Duncan returned to his room and closed the door, after which I heard muted mumbles originating from within. Ten minutes later Duncan and Alf excited the spare bedroom, looking very sheepish. Breakfast was a silent affair, and shortly after, Alf left. Duncan attempted an explanation, but I cut him short.

“Duncan, I know you and Alf are lovers. FYI, I am gay, so your love life doesn’t freak me out at all… In fact, I’m rather envious, because Alf is fucking hot, so good for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?” Duncan asked.

“I was waiting for the right time… looks like it has suddenly arrived,” I replied.

“Are you sure you’re cool with Alf and me?” Duncan implored.

“Totally dad...” I answered.

The following week Alf also spent Wednesday evening with us. Prior to Alf’s arrival on Saturday night, Duncan asked, “Would you consider allowing Alf to move in with us… At some point?” From prior conversations, I knew that Alf was renting a very small cottage. His kids were grown up and wanted nothing to do with him. His wife had also left him while he was imprisoned, and he was a very lonely guy.

Three weeks before I was comfortable living on my own, now the prospect of living with two other people stared me in the face. I didn’t need these dramas in my life, but after all the dramas in lives, how can I refuse?

“I’ll give you my decision tomorrow,” I announced.

“Thanks, boy,” my stepfather replied. “It would really mean a lot to us.”

After Alf and Duncan arrived later that day, we had dinner before I headed for the bar to give them space. Before I left, I gave them a naughty smile and said, “Why don’t you guys use the bigger bed in my room, you’ll be a lot more comfortable.”

“Are you sure?” Duncan asked delightedly.

“Sure… No problem at all, I’ll use your bed when I get back,” I concluded.

Returning from the bar after twelve, I peered through the open door of my bedroom. Duncan and Alf were sound asleep. The following morning at breakfast I asked Alf, “So when are you moving in with us?” Two very broad smiles greeted me.

“Why not today?” Duncan suggested.

“Are you really sure?” Alf asked.

“Absolutely,” I replied.

Later that day Alf arrived with meagre belongings, and as we sat in the lounge later I decided to spring a second surprise on them. 

“I have decided that the two of you can use the king-sized bed in my room from now on. The queen-sized bed in the spare room will do me fine,” I said.

“That’s unnecessary Jimmy,” Duncan protested.

“My apartment… My rules!” was my final comment on the subject.

With a glint in his eye, Alf said, “That bed of yours is so fucking big, that I’m sure three people could comfortably sleep on it.”

“Do you really think so?” I snickered.

“Only one way to find out,” Alf countered lasciviously.

“Are you trying to seduce my stepson, you pervert?” Duncan asked with mock annoyance.

“Wow… From having no father in my life, it now looks like I have two daddies,” I said laughing.

“Well, just so there’s no confusion, maybe you can call Duncan, daddy, and me Papi,” Alf suggested with a smile.

As general laughter broke out in the room, I teased them by saying, “I’ll give your suggestion some serious thought.”

That night after Duncan and Alf headed off to bed, I cleaned up before heading for the spare room. As I lay looking at the ceiling, the noises from next door started driving me crazy.

‘Alf is hot, and sex with him won’t be a problem, but a threesome with my stepfather… Whew, that’s outrageous... No, I can’t. Where are those fucking earplugs of mine?’ I thought.

For the rest of the week, we settled into a comfortable routine.

The following Saturday, as I was about to head off to the bar Alf asked, “Why are you going out and looking for something that you already have at home?” After a brief silence, he inquired, “Are we told old for you?”

“No, not at all, it’s just… Well, a threesome with my stepfather, that’s hectic.” I replied, stammering.

No one else needs ever know,” Alf concluded, smiling suggestively.

“How do you feel about this Duncan?” I asked befuddled.

“I know it’s strange, but I would love to share you with Alf,” Duncan replied. Again there was a long silence before Duncan continued, “If we try it out and you find it too creepy, we’ll stop at your command.”

Alf then moved towards me and wrapped me in his arms. As he started fervently kissing me, I felt another body enclosing me from behind. My mind was in a total spin, and my hormones were doing cartwheels inside me. As the two of them began grinding their hips into me, I was practically panting with horniness.

“Must we stop?” Alf asked.

“No Papi,” I replied, overcome with lust.

“Are you sure baby?” Duncan echoed, from the other side of my head.

“Yes daddy, please don’t stop,” I answered, enveloped by desire. Almost stumbling towards the bedroom, our trio of passion finally arrived at the bed, frantic hands ripped clothing from yearning bodies. Once on my back, Alf was soon orally attacking my manhole as Duncan took control of my face. I whimpered as my daddies possessed me.

“Fuck my boy’s manhole Papi,” Duncan instructed Alf. “Yeah, Papi, fuck my boy’s hot hole,” he then grunted.  

After Alf lifted his body and placed his Hispanic horn in my chute,” Duncan feverishly intoned, “Fuck my boy hard, Papi.”

As Duncan's mouth returned to my quivering lips, Alf placed his generous foreskin on my knot. When his cockhead dashed through its sheath to impale me, I began to groan into Duncan’s mouth. As my butt was being filled with dark, hot, Latin meat, I was whimpering.

“Fuck him, Papi, yeah, fuck my boy, Papi,” Duncan lustfully commanded.

“Jesus, daddy,” Alf replied to Duncan, “This boy has a tight arse. Jimmy’s hole feels like warm satin, you’re going to love fucking your stepson.” As Alf thrust into me, he began tugging on my dick. Every time he thrust forward, he pulled on my cock.

Before we got too close Alf said, “Get back here daddy, it’s time for you to fuck your boy.”

As Duncan scurried to the back of me, Alf took control of my head. Duncan pushed his dick straight into me and started fucking like crazy.

“How does it feel having your stepfather’s cock in you?” Alf growled. “Do you still think what we are doing is strange?”

“Noooo,” I groaned.

“Fuck him harder daddy, fuck the shit out of this boy,” Alf grunted.

Duncan was going ballistic. My legs felt like they were clamped in a vice. “Pound him, hammer the fuck out of him, daddy,” Alf exhilarated.

Duncan’s breathing was getting very rough. “Oh fuck I ‘m going to cum,” Duncan said, as he scampered up my body to unload in my mouth. As he did so Alf darted behind me and continued screwing my backside. Alf again took hold of my knob and employed the same strategy as before.

Minutes later, we both came within seconds of one another. Duncan licked my spunk as Alf felched his load out of me. With both men lying next to me later, we orally shared the abundance of our labours.

As we all lay there panting, I reflected on the fact that the months ahead weren’t going to be so difficult after all.