Sleazy Stepdad Thirsty Son

London 2018

I hated him so much. So much that I couldn’t breathe sometimes. The aggression, the low IQ, that “I know better than” you boomer arrogance. But this. This was just fucking selfish to a new level.

His first impulse, obviously, was to start shouting

“I’m doing my fucking best!”

So he’s sitting there in his boxers and a worn T-shirt. 57 years old, completely bald, a little overweight and looking at me like I’m the piece of shit. Surrounded by piles of tabloids, lager cans and overflowing ashtrays. What the fuck did my Mum see in this asshole to stay married for 22 years.

“The school just rung” I say.

I’m trying to keep it level and not raise my voice to meet his. Trying to ignore the shit I’m in this afternoon when I finally get to work.

“This is the fifth day Jaden hasn’t been in school, the phones been disconnected and, Dad, this place is a fucking shithole”

“What’s it to you? we’re doing OK! He’s 15 I wake him, feed him and send him out the door. I can’t fucking make him go in”

I sigh. My Mum had been in hospital a week.

“I’m supposed to be at work, me and Michael are doing nothing but argue and I promised Mum that I’d make sure you were doing OK. Jayden’s my brother”

Trying to appeal to him was a mistake.

“HALF BROTHER! Go back to your fancy job and your rich, boring fella. Fucking queer”

Great. My marriage to “boring”Michael was breaking down, work was beyond hectic and nobody gave a shit, my Mum’s hospitalization had been the icing on the cake. She can deal with this shit when she’s discharged in a week, I’m not being spoken to like this; I’m 30 years old for Christ’s sake not some cowering teen avoiding a confrontation with his prick of a stepdad.

“Fuck you, Dad”

I turn to leave the dump that was once my Mum’s tasteful living room and hear a clutter behind me.

He’s leaped out of his chair and literally pins me to the wall, the smash knocking down a photo of Mum that shatters on the floor.

“Take that back cunt”

“Get the fuck off me”

I manage to elbow him in the ribs and he recoils backwards slightly, but then pounds his body weight into me  pressing me harder against the wall

“Take it back” growled now. His hot breath against my ear. It smells of cheap beer. His strong arms pushing his hands onto mine.

In this instant. In this unexplainable fucking moment I felt myself getting hard against the wall. I hadn’t had sex with Michael in months. Dad smelled raw and manly and like home. I felt this warm, unexpected trickle of pre cum and I pushed back into him. Not just to escape his grip but to share something urgent and sensual and new. In response I felt his cock harden against the cleft of my tight work trousers. His hands moved from mine and began to softly caress my hips. I felt his body lose rigidity and soften into me. He whispered a simple “yesss”

“awww dad we cant do this”

I didn’t mean it, I practically moaned it in quiet ecstasy.

He knew I didn’t mean too, but still asked: “You sure boy?” in a deep masculine drawl, his lips brushing my ear. Our bodies gyrating slowly into the other.

I’d lost it by then. His big hands had slid up my shirt and were toying, surprisingly gently, with my nipples and his tongue had started to delicately kiss and lick my neck as I motioned it into his mouth. His dick rock hard against me, I began to push back onto it, harder than before, as his hands slid across my abs to unbutton my trousers

“Fuck me dad” I whimpered.

To be continued...