Stepdad Becomes Real Dad

By Jim Selfie
© 2019. All Rights Reserved.
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I’m not exactly proud of the story I’m about to tell you. In fact, I think it makes me a terrible person and this never should have happened. But that only makes it hotter.

And I regret nothing.

* * *

My biological dad left when I was two years old. I don’t remember him at all and Mom tossed the few pictures we had of him. I was raised as an only child for most of my life— just me and Mom, and that was fine by me.

And then Mom met Sal.

Salvatore Hernandez worked for the city as a contractor. He was medium-handsome, good-natured, not too tall or too short; pretty average, really. He had swarthy skin made darker by working in the sun, a middle-aged softness over naturally toned muscles, a thick black mustache, curly black hair cropped close, an easy smile, and intense hazel eyes that I avoided at all costs.

I hated the guy instantly.

But he swept Mom off her feet— and way too easily, I might add. A few dinner dates at lousy restaurants (Applebee’s? Come on, Sal) and flowers sent to her work and suddenly she’s “in love.” I couldn’t believe it happened so fast. Just a few months in she tells me they’re getting married and we’re moving in with the guy. Are you fucking kidding me?

Granted, I was a crappy teenager at the time. Everything pissed me off. I was a ball of hormones and sexual frustration, struggling with my budding gayness. I was nothing special in the looks department, either: slight in stature (“waifish” Mom would say, like it was a compliment) with honey-blonde hair that hung in my face. Brown eyes, button nose, full lips. I was okay-looking but with no confidence; a true wallflower trying not to stand out or be seen.

But Sal saw me. He tried to see me, anyway, though I avoided him like the plague. He was thrilled to welcome Mom and me into his home, a spacious four-story on the edge of town built by Sal and his construction buds. It was a big upgrade from Mom’s apartment but I didn’t let Sal know that. He said it was great to have new energy in the house, that it had been lonely living there on his own for so many years. More than anything, he wanted to be a family man: loving wife, lots of kids, a yard and dogs and SUVs and the whole nice American dream thing. He wanted to be my dad so badly.

I used it against him, of course.

Sal may have wooed Mom but I refused to let him woo me. He went out of his way to be kind: giving me the whole attic as my room, encouraging my schoolwork, even trying to get me to like sports. I wasn’t downright mean to the guy but I could be dismissive as hell. I was callous, snarky. I acted superior, pumped full of teenaged self-righteousness. It only made him try harder.

“I’m sorry, Sal,” I overheard Mom saying one night in the kitchen after a particularly tense dinner. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Chase lately. He’s usually much more kind.”

Sal chuckled. “It’s okay, honey baby,” he replied, using that pet name that I despised. “I’ll make the kid love me. I’m irresistible.”

Mom laughed. He always made her laugh. “He’s just never had a father, that’s all.”

“He’s going to. I’m gonna be that kid’s Dad whether he likes it or not.”

I, of course, did not like it. And I refused to let that happen.

But then a few years passed. I grew up a bit— a lot, actually. I was taller than Sal now, standing an inch above his stocky frame. I was still “waifish” and smooth, sure, but now with thick thatches of dark honey-colored fur in my pits and crotch, and a man’s thick six and three-quarters inch cock. My “sex life” consisted of a fast internet connection and a very active right hand. I was still the only gay person I knew but I was settling into that fact.

I was also settling into the fact that Sal was here to stay, and that being a jerk to him wasn’t making me feel any better about it. Mom loved him and he, somehow, seemed to love me. Slowly I just got comfortable around the guy, until it was sort of like he had always been there.

Plus, it finally dawned on me that Sal was hot. Like... really fucking hot. I was too blinded by jealousy to see it at first, but Sal was a total stud. Still average, sure, but exactly my type. I had seen him with his shirt off several times, around the pool and on hot nights at home, and his thickly-furred chest and dark nipples turned me on. I even liked his farmer tan.

I started noticing little things, like the forest of curly hairs on his thick forearms, the gray streaks in his mustache and sideburns, the depth of his belly button nestled in his generous treasure trail. His body was so different from mine and I was becoming obsessed with it.

One day, while Sal and Mom were both at work, I stole into their bedroom. I poked around and found a pair of his discarded white briefs on the floor of their en suite bathroom. My heart racing, I picked up the briefs and examined them. There was the faintest yellow stain in front and an even fainter whiff of the smell of its origin. I imagined piss dribbling from Sal’s cock, soaking into his underwear as he tucked it away, and my own cock rose to attention. I held the briefs to my nose and inhaled deeply. The heady aroma of day-old sweat and ball musk made me shudder with pleasure. Then I noticed a thick, corkscrew-curled pubic hair tucked in the folds of the fabric. I removed it carefully and teased it between two fingers, then slowly closed my lips around it and traced its curls with my tongue.

Holy shit. What was happening to me?

I determined that I needed more. I wanted to see Sal’s cock, live and in person.

I started hatching the plan without really knowing that I was hatching a plan.

It started with me clogging the toilet in the upstairs bathroom, the one closest to my room. I just dumped a whole bag of cotton balls into the bowl and flushed and flushed until water leaked out onto the floor. Sal examined it quickly after work and said he could fix it later, and in the meantime to just use their bathroom.

“I guess so,” I said glumly, feigning embarrassment. But secretly I was thrilled.

After dinner that night, Mom dozed in front of the Real Housewives of Somewhere and Sal went up to take his evening shower. I waited about ten minutes and then followed him upstairs.

I could hear the shower running as I tiptoed into Mom and Sal’s bedroom. Sal was just a few feet away, naked, wet, and soapy. The thought made my cock press painfully into the seam of my boxer briefs. My heart was pounding as I crossed to the en suite bathroom. I almost turned back but fought the urge—it was tonight or never. I pushed the bathroom door open and slipped into the steamy room.

“Ain’t got no money, honey,” Sal sang, badly, his deep bass voice cracking. “But baby I sure got you, ooh ooh oo—”

“Is that a real song?”

“Holy shit!” Sal yelped from inside the shower. I heard the thunk of a bar of soap hitting the tub as he broke out into a chuckle. “You scared me, bud!”

I laughed with him. “Sorry, Sal. Just enjoying your lovely shower serenade.”

I peered through the frosted glass shower door, disappointingly opaque. I could just make out the dark tan and deep brown of Sal’s furry form. I watched as he bent to pick up the soap, the full moon of his ass turned toward me. His blurry ass cheeks were paler than the rest of him, with a dark line running right down the crack. I thought my boner would break through my clothes.

“What’s up, bud? Need to use the toilet in here?”

“Yep,” I replied. “That okay?”

“Yeah, no prob,” he said, rising up to continue soaping his chest. “Just don’t flush!”

I went to the toilet and pulled down my shorts and boxer briefs. There was no way I was going to be able to piss in my aroused state, so I just stood there holding my erection instead. I slowly jerked myself as I watched Sal’s naked form through the water-spotted glass.

“Pee shy, bud?” Sal asked suddenly.

“What, you listening to me pee?”

“Listening to you not pee.”

“Maybe you should sing again. That might loosen me up.”

Sal chuckled at that. “What is it you kids like to listen to these days? Lady Goo Goo?”

“Ha!” My boner abated slightly and a stream of piss hit the bowl with a splash. “Never mind, I’m good.” Sal laughed again and started humming some made-up song over the sound of my leak.

As the last few drops of my piss hit the bowl I knew it was time for Phase Two. My nerves shot back up and my cock bounced in anticipation. I let my shorts and briefs slide all the way to the floor and pulled my t-shirt over my head. Then I took the few steps toward the shower, now fully naked, and slowly slid open the frosted glass door.

“Sal?”

“Ho!” Sal yelped again, looking up from soaping one meaty thigh. “Ha, hey bud, all done?” Water dripped from his matted hair down his handsome face, a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Yeah, just wondering...” I said, looking down as if uncomfortable. I used the opportunity to check out the goods, but was frustrated to find that both his hairy forearms were blocking my view, draped over his soapy thigh. All I got was a glimpse of his dark bush, damp and untrimmed, dotted with soap bubbles.

“Yeah, bud?”

“Just wondering if I can shower in here tonight?” I said cautiously. “Just in case the water in my bathroom backs up again?”

Sal smiled that easy smile and went back to rubbing the bar of soap down his leg. “Sure bud, no problem!” He bent forward and dragged the soap over one muscled calf, his upper body obscuring the goods yet again. “Anytime.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

Then I threw caution to the wind and stepped into the tub.

Sal saw my feet first and rose up suddenly, the soap clattering into the tub yet again. “Whoa!” he said with a surprised chuckle. “I didn’t think you meant right now!”

I returned his nervous chuckle. “Ha, sorry,” I replied. I cleared my throat and in my best mock-casual voice said, “Here, I’ll get that.”

Before Sal could respond, I dropped down to one knee and reached for the bar of soap. It had slid behind him so I had to reach past his feet (large, long toes, gunk under the nails) and around his legs (thick, covered in dripping hair, lined with muscle). I grabbed the slippery bar of soap and offered it up to him, still down on one knee.

That’s when I finally saw it: Sal’s cock, right there before my eyes.

It was thick, slightly darker than the rest of him, crisscrossed with bulging veins. A sheath of foreskin covered the ridge of its generous head, ending in a puckered snout that hung about a half-inch below the tip. A pair of heavy, egg-sized balls dangled low in their veined sac, the dark skin matted with short, curly black hair. He wasn’t erect but he wasn’t exactly soft, either— his cock hung out a ways from his soapy bush, maybe four inches in length. It was so perfectly average, so perfectly him. My pulse jumped along with my cock as I stared at it a little too long.

“Uh, thanks Chase.”

I snapped out of my spell and looked up at him, past his slight beer gut and meaty pecs to his baffled face. He took the soap from me and held it at his side as I rose up to meet his gaze.

“Sorry,” I repeated. “I just have to get to bed soon, big test tomorrow,” I lied nervously, my face a deep scarlet. “Is this okay? I shower with other guys in P.E. all the time at school, I guess I just thought—”

Sal smiled, the tense moment broken. “No, of course, bud. No problem at all!” he scoffed. “I showered with buds all the time when I was your age, too.” He turned away and stepped under the spray. “Just surprised me, is all. You’re usually so reserved!”

“Yeah. I’m working on that,” I said honestly.

With Sal rinsing off under the shower head I was free to take in the sight of his backside. I was in for a pleasant surprise: Sal had a grade-A beefy bubble butt. His baggy contractor’s pants hadn’t been doing him any favors; this thing was miraculous. Two juicy half-globes of pale ass cheek covered in whorls of hair, with a thick dark trail running right down the center. I had to fight the urge to reach out and sink my teeth into it.

“Glad to hear that,” Sal said, his words garbled with shower water. “Part of growing up is getting comfortable with yourself, bud. No shame in your game.”

His attempts to speak on my level, once annoying beyond belief, were now music to my ears. And well-timed, too, because as Sal turned back toward me his eyes glanced down and bulged at the sight of my raging boner.

My proud teen cock, rigid and bouncing, sprung out from my blonde bush and curved up toward Sal’s face. The circumcised head glistened in the shower spray, the bashful pink of a half-ripe strawberry.

I chuckled nervously and placed a hand over my junk, more pushing it to the side than actually covering it. “Ha... uh, sorry man. My bad.”

Sal shook it off and smirked. “You kidding, bud? You’re a man! Get used to boners in all the wrong places. Shit, when I was your age...” He trailed off, absentmindedly rubbing the bar of soap over his ass. “Besides, the hot water always gets me goin’ a little, too.”

I took this as an invitation to look down, and was pleased to see that he was right: his cock did seem to be about an inch longer and angled out from his body. The hanging foreskin dripped with soapy water— white and bubbly, almost like cum. My cock bounced at the sight. I glanced from his cock to mine, marveling at how different my circumcised, pink-hued member looked compared to his darker sheathed cock.

Sal didn’t seem to notice, or pretended not to care, as I drank him in. He continued working the bar of soap over his lower back as he said, almost dreamily, “Yeah... I’ll fix that clog in your bathroom tomorrow, bud. Just too tired tonight.”

“No problem,” I said, and boy did I mean it. Then I surprised myself by suddenly blurting out: “Want some help?”

Sal blinked water out of his eyes. “With the clog? Nah... remember last time you tried to help me fix things around the house? Shiiiit...”

“Not that.”

I reached around Sal to the bar of soap and snatched it from his hand. “This.” I motioned for him to turn around.

“Oh... uh... nah, I mean—”

“I got it. You can do me next.” Sal hesitated, his hazel eyes boring into mine.

I backed down just a little, breaking out of my mock-casual tone. “I mean... no big deal, right? You said.”

“Nah... yeah, of course.” Sal stepped gingerly around to face the shower head again , exposing his back to me. “Actually this’ll probably be the first time my back has been clean in months, haha.”

He actually said the words “haha.” He was nervous. So was I. But I was also standing naked with my sexy stepdad, dripping wet, our bodies mere inches apart. My cock throbbed. The plan had worked like a charm.

“Maybe lean on the wall?” I suggested. “Just for balance?”

Sal grunted something unintelligible and placed his hands on the wall in front of him. The slight bend made his beefy ass jut out toward me. His cheeks spread ever so slightly, a rivulet of water cascading into his hairy crack. I was in fucking heaven.

“Here goes,” I muttered. I placed the soap gently against his shoulder and rubbed it in a circular motion, applying light pressure as I went. It became a sort of soap-massage, with both my hands kneading the tense muscles of his upper back as I coated him in a thick layer of bubbles.

“Feels good, bud,” Sal said quietly. “Back’s been killing me.”

I didn’t respond verbally but redoubled my efforts on his back. Slowly my soap circles went lower, caressing the smooth skin between his lower back and the mounds of his ass. As my pressure increased it forced Sal to lean more into the wall, opening his ass up more. I knelt down, my face now at ass-level, and let the bar of soap glide over one meaty ass cheek. Dark hair matted into his pert, wet flesh, crowned with soap bubbles. I dropped the pretense of soaping him and kneaded the fingers of both hands into his butt cheeks.

“I, uh, already... sorta... got that part,” he said halfheartedly.

“No problem,” I said, and made no move to stop. I could feel Sal tense up a bit, but then just as suddenly he relaxed into the massage. I dug my thumbs into the globes of his ass, feeling the powerful glutes beneath his thick layer of padding. As I circled upwards, I pulled his cheeks apart even more and peered deep into his crack. My nose just inches from his ass now, I inhaled his scent— clean and soapy, undercut by something deeper and manlier. His pendulous balls swung between his legs as I worked, bouncing back and forth between his meaty thighs.

I massaged upward again and pulled his ass apart even more, finally revealing his tight, puckered asshole. The skin around it was dark, swirled with long curls of ass hair. It seemed to wink at me as Sal tensed up again, this time with a nervous chuckle.

“Careful back there, bud. No guarantees, especially after Mom’s chili tonight.”

We shared a laugh, but mine was more for show. I was harder than I had ever been in my life. My mouth watered; my heart pounded in my ears. I leaned in as close as I dared and massaged my fingers further into Sal’s crack. With his cheeks pulled wide, I ran one tentative, soapy finger over his pucker. It winked again and I exhaled lustily, my breath hot against his exposed hole.

The next finger danced over it again, this time pressing into the puckered flesh. Sal cleared his throat above me. Realizing this was probably my last shot, I let the next soapy finger brush all along his hairy valley and circle around his asshole, then ever so slightly pressed it into him.

This time when he tensed up he jerked back involuntarily and— in a moment that surprised us both— my finger sunk inside Sal’s hole.

His tight ass lips closed around my curious, soapy digit and pulled me into him even more, well past my first knuckle. The velvety feeling of the inside of his chute sent me over the edge. Without touching my cock at all, a fat load of cum shot out of my flared mushroom head as I threw my head back in a silent scream of pleasure. My cum mixed with the soapy water in the tub and swirled down the drain in thick bubbly ropes.

I was only inside him for a second and a half before Sal jerked away, yanking my finger from his hole. “Okay bud” he said hurriedly. “All good. Think I’m all set.”

I shuddered, doing my best to cover up my post-orgasm stupor. “You sure?” I stammered.

“Yup. Thanks bud. Felt good!”

His tone was light, as if nothing had happened. But when he turned back to face me I noticed that both his hairy hands were covering his cock.

“Better go see if Mom’s ready to turn in,” Sal said as he ducked past me. He hadn’t even rinsed the soap off his back. He tried to press by me but the tight confines of the shower forced us into close contact. In one brief, beautiful moment, my hand grazed his front, connecting with the solid, fleshy tube of his now fully-erect cock. At the same time, I swiveled to allow him to pass, nudging my still-hard cock into his right hand.

It all lasted about a second, but as Sal pulled open the shower door and jumped out I noticed a thin string of my cock juice on his callused palm, pearly white against his swarthy skin.

“’Night, Chase!” he chirped as he snatched a towel and fled the room, a trail of wet, soapy footprints in his wake.

“’Night, Sal,” I muttered in answer. I immediately grabbed my still-throbbing cock and shot off one more load in the shower, my soapy fingers now exploring the insides of my own tight virgin ass.

I shot another two loads all over myself in bed later that night— and could have sworn I heard the sounds of animalistic lovemaking drifting up from Mom & Sal’s bedroom two floors below.

And as I finally drifted off to sleep, physically drained and sexually sated, I knew that this was only the beginning. I had to have more.

I had to have it all.

* * *

To be continued...

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