His Stepson Wears Lace

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His Stepson Wears Lace Page 6

by Kelex


  Could they exist for a little while in the gray in between?

  He padded back into the bedroom and stood at the edge a moment, watching Jereme sleep. His boy still wore the lingerie that had enflamed him so much. Trailing a finger over one of the garters, he felt the need come to life again.

  In no time, his cock was hard and ready for another round. From the corner of his eye, he saw the plug they hadn’t even had time to play with earlier. Jereme had been too needful… too starved for affection. Anson hadn’t been able to deny him.

  He grabbed the toy and the lube. Once coated, he began to work it between Jereme’s cheeks. It took almost no time for his boy’s hips to begin moving a little, pushing down on the head of the shaft. Even in sleep, Jereme needed. A moan little more than a sigh came to Jereme’s lips before he lifted his head, eyes open.

  No words were exchanged between them. Anson held his stepson’s gaze as he worked the plug in deeper and deeper. Jereme writhed against it, his body somehow both liquid and rigid at the same time. He never uttered a word, but he spoke with his eyes and body language. His gasps, sighs, and mews. Anson knelt on the bed and continued working the cock, and watching every second… mentally recording what strokes and angles his boy liked best.

  He moved one hand over Jereme’s hip and began to work his stepson’s hard shaft.

  Those gasps, sighs, and mewls soon turned to moans, cries, and begging.

  “Please, Daddy… harder… I need to come…”

  Anson shook his head, refusing to go any harder or faster. He kept Jereme on edge, just out of reach of an orgasm, for what felt like hours. Then he pulled the plug out and tossed it to the floor—before sliding into the bed and feigning sleep.

  “Um, hello?” Jereme said, his tone livid.

  Anson didn’t open his eyes and tried to keep the smile from his lips. “Yeah?”

  “You can’t do me dirty like that.”

  “Never heard of edging?”

  “Edging? Whatever. If you won’t finish me… I’ll take care of it myself.”

  Anson’s eyes flew open. He reached for Jereme’s wrist and tugged his boy’s hand away from where it was headed. “That cock’s mine. You don’t touch it until I say you can.”

  Jereme looked at him, shock written on his face.

  “You called me kind earlier,” Anson murmured. “I can be unkind, too. In the best ways possible. You’ll thank me later.”

  Jereme visibly shuddered.

  It was then that Anson envisioned a cage for his boy’s cock… one with a lock on it. With a key only he had access to.

  That was when he shuddered.

  “Go to sleep. You’ll need your rest,” Anson said before lying back in the bed.

  Jereme took a moment, but he lay down on Anson’s chest—his hard, little shaft throbbing. A smile came to Anson’s lips, knowing neither of them would sleep well until they’d finished with their fun.

  Chapter Five

  By the late morning, Jereme awoke to an empty bed. He rolled over, his body sore after many rounds of fucking… and his cock aching painfully. Anson had edged him several more times the night before… bringing him just to the precipice, only to pull him back before oblivion took him. Now he felt like he had a case of blue balls and it was apparent that he’d find no relief. He lowered his face into the divot in the pillow Anson had used. He drew in his stepfather’s scent one last time before dragging himself out of bed. The fantasy was over. It was time to get back to reality and the sooner, the better.

  After taking off the lingerie, he carefully padded over to the bathroom. He was so incredibly sore—but it felt wonderful. His body had been broken in and used… forever changed. Smiling as he slipped into the shower, he realized no one could ever take away the memory of that night, no matter how things would now change in the light of day.

  Looking down at his hard shaft, he considered stroking himself off then and there… but something about Anson’s declaration that his cock wasn’t his… it kept him from touching himself. He washed it carefully, just enough not to hopefully not incur his stepfather’s wrath. Later, when he was on the way back to school, maybe he’d take a break at a rest stop and jerk himself to completion.

  Hell, maybe he’d find a sexy trucker to do it for him. That had always been a fantasy of his… but he’d been too scared to try it. Now, he felt a little more emboldened.

  Once clean, he dried off and dressed in loose, comfortable clothing. He made the bed and tossed his things back into the bag he’d brought with him. Eyeing the lingerie… he ultimately shoved it into his bag, too. He wasn’t ready to let go of the memory of his first time.

  With one last glance around his bedroom, he walked down, bag in hand.

  Anson padded barefoot from the kitchen, looking a bit sheepish. “I didn’t expect you up so early.” He glanced over his shoulder briefly. “I made us some breakfast.”

  Us. It wasn’t that kind of us, but he liked hearing it all the same. Jereme eyed his stepfather. “I should be heading back to school.”

  “It’s Saturday… you’ve got time.”

  “I’ve got a ton of work to do,” Jereme murmured.

  “Me, too,” Anson murmured. “Piles on my desk.” He brushed his hands over his muscled thighs before lifting his stare. “But you need to eat. Come on. Let me at least send you back to campus with a full stomach.” Anson took a step forward. “And… you have one last orgasm to be had. At the very least.”

  Jereme eyed Anson… and as the man’s slow smile grew… he was a slave to his own smile. He couldn’t stop it… so he dropped his bag on the last step and nodded. “Okay.”

  They walked into the kitchen… which was a bit of a mess. There was too much food. Cut fruit… sausages… bacon… eggs… pancakes… coffee… juice… enough for an army. Jereme chuckled before filling his plate with some.

  “Good thing you’re eating. I think I made too much.”

  “You think?” Jereme asked.

  “I didn’t know what you liked. I figured a little bit of everything was safe,” Anson said.

  Jereme lifted his stare to Anson, charmed again. No one had ever gone out of their way to be so accommodating. He didn’t really know how to handle it. Once their plates were full, they both sat at the small breakfast table across from one another. They ate in silence the first few minutes… and Jereme felt the weight of something his stepfather wanted to say.

  He was almost afraid to ask what it was.

  “I don’t want this to stop,” Anson said after a moment. He lifted his stare to Jereme, a look of concern on his handsome face. “I have no right to ask you for more… but I want more.”

  “You did say one last orgasm.” Last orgasm had a finality about it he didn’t much care for.

  “One last before you go back to school… but what about after that?”

  Jereme froze. He hadn’t expected that. Not at all. “I want that, too… but how do we do that? Between everything…”

  “I don’t know,” Anson whispered. “You’re three hours away… I’m crazy busy at work. Soon to be divorced. Gloria.” He sighed heavily. “But last night was the first time I’ve felt happy in a long, long time. Maybe that’s all it is… I needed someone to be there and make me feel a little bit of happiness. And it was you… right, wrong, or in between, it was you… and I’m a selfish bastard. I want more.”

  He could barely breathe from the admission. “I do, too…” They’d gotten away with their one night… but what if they weren’t lucky the next time? “We could be caught. It could cause issues. For us both.”

  “Then we have one weekend of bliss and move on with our lives. How about that?”

  One weekend was better than one night, wasn’t it? Jereme wasn’t ready to let go either. He nodded. “One weekend.”

  Anson frowned. “You know, you said something last night about being caught. You said the word again just now and it brought a question back to my mind. Who hurt you?”

  Heat f
illed Jereme’s face. The pain and shame of that event made it hard to speak of.

  “If I’m asking for too much, just say no… I won’t force you to speak of something painful.”

  There had never been anyone he trusted to tell his tale to before. Bottling it up inside had kept him sane. He wasn’t sure he could say the words out loud… but if not now, when? Would he keep the trauma deep inside until one day he exploded? After a deep breath, he began to tell his story. “I snuck into my mother’s lingerie before. She caught me once. Dragged me out in front of my ex-stepfather. And then he smacked me around. Spanked me.” Jereme paused, the memories making his mouth dry. He’d gotten even harder as his ex-stepfather had spanked him. And that sin had only made things worse. Much worse. “He punched me a few times. Said he was knocking the fag outtta me.”

  “Your mother let him do that?”

  “Let him? She laughed. And she often brings up that moment—particularly when she wants to hurt or embarrass me. Usually in retaliation for me speaking a truth she didn’t want to hear. Her secret weapon to keep me quiet.”

  “Fuck,” Anson whispered under his breath. “That bitch!”

  Jereme cringed. He had a hard time hearing someone else speak ill about his mother. It was fucked up that he felt the need to protect the woman who’d hurt him so many times… but she’d also fed and clothed him. Put a roof over his head. Made sure he had most of the things he needed. How did he reconcile the good with the evil? “That’s why I freaked out when you caught me. I was terrified of another beating… so I played along for a moment, waiting until I could run from you and lock myself in my bedroom. But then… shit happened and I crossed the line with wild abandon.”

  “We both did. We probably shouldn’t continue this,” Anson said, lowering his head. “No matter how much we want to.” He lifted his stare again. “But after what you just told me… I don’t want you thinking I’m turning my back on you, either. I don’t want you to think it’s wrong. It’s not. You wearing lacy things hurts no one. No one. And the fact the woman who gave birth to you allowed you to be hurt for exploring your sexuality…” Anson grumbled under his breath. “It makes me want to hurt him. And her.”

  Jereme swallowed past the lump in his throat, finding it hard to accept the concern coming at him across that table. He wasn’t accustomed to having someone accept him with so much conviction. “Honestly, I was glad it was that stepfather who hit me. Mom’s second husband was a boxer and liked to hit me for no good reason. If he’d had one, he likely would’ve killed me.”

  “Wait… I thought I was Gloria’s second husband?”

  “You’re her fifth.”

  Anson sat back in his chair, looking stunned. “Jesus… how did I not see her for what she was?”

  “No one does. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last. Trust me.”

  His stepfather sighed. “And you grew up with men in and out of your life. What about your real dad?”

  “I didn’t have much of a relationship with him growing up. He avoided Mom—he claims—but in doing so he avoided me, too. He’s trying… now that I’m in school and I’m freer to talk to him without being in her shadow.” Jereme took a small bite of bacon and chewed. “But it’s weird, you know? There’s this guy you barely know that’s biologically related to you and there should be this connection, but there’s really not. It feels forced, most of the time. But he’s trying. So, I am, too.”

  “Gloria said he’s paying for your tuition?”

  “Yeah. I guess it’s his guilt for abandoning me.”

  “Guilt or not, take it. Student loans have crippled many.”

  “I’m not dumb. I mean, I was raised by my mother, the grifter.”

  “How you turned out as normal as you are being raised by her, I have no idea.”

  Jereme winced. “I’m not normal. As you saw last night. I’m a freak who gets off being in women’s clothes.”

  Anson grabbed his hand. “No, baby. You’re not a freak. Nowhere close. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to wear pretty things.” His stepfather kissed the back of his hand. “I want to buy you even more pretty things to wear. Ones that are yours. Bought for you and you alone.”

  Jereme squeezed Anson’s hand. “Really?”

  Anson nodded.

  “But, how can we? Continue this?”

  “Can you come home next weekend?”

  Jereme shook his head. “I’ve got a couple of papers to write… and I just got my ass handed to me by my advisor. My grades have been slipping a little this semester.”

  “Why’s that? Something wrong?”

  “Honestly… between a shitty roommate and Mom was guilting me a lot… being so far away from her. She calls a lot, complaining that you’re avoiding her. I came home because I pissed her off when she called me yesterday and knew she’d make my life hell if I didn’t come kiss ass a little.” He chuckled. “I came home, and she wasn’t even here. But there was some ass kissing that happened.”

  Anson chuckled. “Who could resist a pretty ass like that?” His smile faded. “I sure as hell can’t.” He tugged on Jereme’s hand. “Come here, baby.”

  Jereme felt a swell of need wash through him. He rose and rounded the table… then lowered to sit on his stepfather’s lap. Under his ass, he could already feel his daddy’s thickening cock rising to attention.

  “I know we both have work to do… but don’t go home. Not yet. Let’s have one more night before we say goodbye. Maybe we figure out a way to move forward… maybe we don’t. But I need one more night. Don’t you?”

  Jereme curled into the welcoming embrace, wishing he never had to leave it. “Yeah.”

  Anson’s fingers slipped into his hair and held his head for the kiss that came. They headed upstairs and quickly got undressed and back into the bed they’d shared. The kisses and caresses were just as eager… just as love-starved. Maybe more so.

  He quickly surrendered to the need they both felt. Pinned to the bed, he arched up into his daddy—his hard shaft almost painful to the touch. Without thought, he reached down and stroked his cock.

  His wrist was snagged again. Anson sat up on his haunches and smiled wickedly. “If you can’t follow directions, I suppose you need to be punished.”

  “Punished?” Jereme asked quietly as he sat up some.

  Anson caressed the side of his face. “Fuck… I wasn’t thinking. You were spanked by that asshole. I’m sorry, baby.”

  Jereme struggled to speak. “No. I… I want you to spank me.”

  Anson stared. He got really still. “I’m not going to add more torment to those memories.”

  “No… you won’t,” Jereme whispered, tears stinging the backs of his eyes. “I want you to spank me.”

  Anson gathered his face in two strong hands and looked down. “Look, baby… I like to play with pain. I always have. But I would never expect you to endure something like that for me.”

  “I got hard when he spanked me,” Jereme said, a tear rolling down his cheek. “That’s why he punched me. I got off on the spanking, and I hated myself for it.” He paused. It was hard to breathe. “I need you to do it. I need you to erase that memory and give me a new one to replace it.”

  Anson brushed some of Jereme’s hair back, the look of concern on his face making his heart stutter in his chest. His stepfather drew him close, hugging him tight. “Don’t cry, baby. If this is what you want… what you need… I’ll do it.”

  Jereme trembled against his daddy.

  “I’ll do it for you,” Anson whispered before leaning back and capturing Jereme’s lips.

  The kiss was sweet. Safe. Comforting. As were the gentle hands roaming Jereme’s body.

  Anson leaned back a little. “Do we need a safe word?”

  Jereme nodded, searching his mind for something. “Wig.”

  Anson smiled wanly. “Wig it is.” He smiled before a hardness came over his features. And his tone. “I told you that cock is mine. Touch it one more time and I�
�m gonna spank that ass raw.”

  Jereme smiled inwardly. Anson wanted to see him break the rules and demand a punishment. He slowly slid a hand down his chest, past his patch of curling hairs, and down his shaft. After giving it one long, leisurely stroke, he found himself over Anson’s lap, butt in the air.

  The first strike sounded through the room. It wasn’t that hard. A glancing blow to start the game.

  Jereme wiggled some, trying to break free. “No, Daddy! Don’t!”

  Another strike came, this one more satisfying than the first… but still not enough. He squirmed on Anson’s lap, loving the feel of the man’s hard shaft insistent against his belly. More slaps came, a few here, a few there. One cheek to the other. Jereme cried out, but he needed more. Needed harder.

  “I thought my daddy was so strong… but these spanks are so soft.”

  “Oh?” Anson asked. “You want harder? I’ll give you harder.”

  The next strike left a sting on Jereme’s ass. He gasped, his back bowing. “Yessssssss.”

  “I see you need a firm hand to keep you in line,” Anson growled before offering another blow to the other side of Jereme’s ass.

  Jereme yelped before moaning. His ass was getting hotter and hotter… the blows leaving a lovely sting to his flesh. “Yesss, Daddy. Punish me.”

  Under him, he could feel Anson’s legs trembling. He smiled, knowing his own body was shaking with delight. The spanks that came after only made him cry out more… and made his cock even harder.

  “Fuck,” Anson cried out before tossing Jereme into the bed.

  He crawled to his back and lifted his legs invitingly… he sensed the need his daddy had… it matched his own. After a quick covering of a condom and a coating of lube, Anson was inside him. Joined, they held each other’s gazes before slowly moving in concert. Jereme reached over and clung to his man, holding tight as his stepfather fucked him hard.

  With one hand, Anson reached between them and began to caress Jereme’s cock. “Like I said,” his stepfather murmured between heavy thrusts. “This is mine… only I can touch it.”

 

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