His little butt was so round and beautiful. My cock was getting hard as I watched him bending over. I reached my hand in my pocket and started to masturbate.
New message from Sandra — Don’t forget what we talked about! Go talk to Aaron. Luv you.
I read the text message from my wife and put back the phone in my pocket. Aaron was his son. After living with his father for a few years when he was a teenager, he came back to his mom’s at the beginning of the summer, as we were living closer to his college.
I never had children with my first wife, so kids were not my specialty. Well, he was eighteen, so not really a kid anymore, but still, we barely talked since he was there. I didn’t want to be this kind of father-in-law, an old asshole who seemed to be disconnected from everything and unable to have a proper conversation with his stepson. So after discussing it with Sandra, she said to go talk to him when she would be at work, and to find some things to do together. My wife worked from nine to five, but as a contractor my working hours were flexible. I was often alone with Aaron, and I found it awkward that we both were in the house, not talking to each other.
But what a forty-year-old could do with an eighteen-year-old? What would a father do? And Aaron was gay. Not that it was a problem—he made his coming-out to his mother a few months ago, and Sandra was very supportive. But would he like the same things as me? Could I offer him to do some physical activities?
God, I sound like an old fool.
Sandra told me I had a lot of prejudices. Aaron was surely like any other boy his age. And, anyway, it was useless to ruminate, I just had to ask him.
I left the kitchen and went upstairs, to the end of the corridor. I lifted my fist in front of the door but hesitated. What if he refused? What if I was going to say something hurtful? Well, I was the grown man here, it was time to act like one. I knocked.
I opened the door slowly and entered the room. Aaron was sitting on his bed, playing some video games on his PS4.
“Hey, Aaron. So, I was… I was wondering if you would want to do something together. I was going to do some repairs on my old car, maybe I could teach you some stuff?”
He’s going to say no. Why the fuck would he want to learn mechanics?
“Oh, yes, I’d love that.” He smiled broadly, paused his game and put his controller on his nightstand.
“Great. Don’t you want to finish your game first?”
“No, I don’t care, I can play later. I’d rather go outside.”
“But you’re not leaving the house often, why is that?”
“I don’t have friends here yet. I hope it’ll change when I start college.”
We left his room and made our way downstairs.
“Yes, for sure,” I said. “College years were my best. You’ll make lifetime friends there.”
“Cool. Hey, are my clothes okay to work on the car?” He was wearing blue jeans and a black tee-shirt.
“Yeah, don’t worry, we won’t do messy things.”
We left the house through the kitchen’s door. It was a hot sunny day, without any cloud or wind. My old 1974 Opel Manta was on the side of the house, and there was at least some shadow there. God, I loved this car. It was yellow, with a black stripe on each side. A thing of beauty. Aaron never talked about it, and I was thinking he didn’t care for it. But seeing his enthusiasm, I was maybe wrong.
“You know,” he said while watching the motor I had opened earlier. “Since I’m living here, I always wanted to ask you to show me your car.”
“For real? Why didn’t you?”
“Well. To tell you the truth, I didn’t dare. I thought you would say no.” He was looking at the ground, his face red from shyness, and that saddened me.
“I’m sorry I gave this impression to you, Aaron. I thought the same thing about you. I think the lack of talking between us is the reason.” Now I can confirm, I’m an old fool.
“Anyway, do you want a beer? It’s fucking hot, outside.”
“Huh… I’m not really… supposed to.”
“Come on, you’re eighteen, don’t tell me you never had a beer.”
“Of course I had,” he said proudly. “But don’t tell mom, please. She’ll have a crisis.”
I laughed. “It’ll be our secret, don’t worry. Come on, have one.”
I gave him a Stella Artois from the cooler at the entrance of the garage and opened one for me. That felt good, refreshing. I took the time to properly look at Aaron for the first time since he lived here. I never realized he was looking exactly like his mother, male version. Dirty blond hair, not very tall—something like five feet six inches—skinny and pale skin. All the attributes I loved in Sandra.
“Okay, so we need to change the carburetor. I already removed the old one.” I took a box on the ground and opened it to take the new piece. “Here’s the new carb we’ll install.”
“What does it do?”
“It mixes fuel with air, so that the combustion engine can work.”
“”You’ll need to teach me everything you know. I find that fascinating, but I know nothing.”
“I’d love that, Aaron. Let’s say that each day I’ll teach you something different.”
Here I was, bonding with my stepson. It was easier than I thought.
I spent the next half hour explaining the engine inside and out. He asked a lot of questions and understood what I was teaching him very quickly. Who would’ve thought I had some common traits with Aaron? Sandra was going to be thrilled. Then, we started putting in place the new carb, and I let him do it while guiding him.
“Hum, this wrench is too small,” he said.
“Don’t move, I’ll go take another one.”
When I came back a few minutes later, a vision—indescribable and frightening—appeared before me. Aaron was leaning forward, his head in the engine, and here it was. His ass. Small, round, looking… yes, incredible in its tight jeans.
What the hell, man?
I needed to get ahold of myself. I just watched and found beautiful the ass of my stepson. It never happened before in my life. But finding a man good-looking, even if I was not gay, was not the problem here. He was my stepson for fuck’s sake. What kind of pervert was I? I chased these horrible thoughts from my mind and walked again toward the car. I gave Aaron the wrench, and he thanked me. Oh yes, he looked exactly like his mother. This angelic face, these pretty little lips, these dimples on both cheeks when they smile.
I took a step back, to be able to look at it again. It seemed so tiny. I was sure he was still a virgin and at this moment, the uncontrollable need to put him naked, to check on his little ass, overwhelmed me. Maybe it was normal, maybe my love and desire for Sandra made me want his son too. In any case, the first physical reaction came soon enough. My cock was hardening in my pants. My balls tightened. I was well-endowed, yes, I could say it. My cock was very thick and being hard in some jeans was often uncomfortable. The need to free it became urgent. Well, it was neither the time nor the place. But maybe I could go to the bathroom, masturbate quickly to feel better. Would I think about him while doing that? Why was I unable to remove these thoughts from my head? Never in my life, I felt aroused and ashamed of it at the same time. Yes, I wanted Aaron. But that was not it. I wanted him hard, I wanted to fuck him rough, to hear him moan and scream. I wanted to open his little ass wide.
Fuck, too late. Aaron had turned his head around, and I didn’t have time to move my eyes. He saw me looking at his ass, and, still leaning forward in the engine, his stare went down to my crotch. Fucking hell, I was still hard, and I knew these jeans made me an enormous bulge. His face went instantly red, and I saw him loudly swallowing his saliva.
Oh, my God, what have I done?
“Hum, I want to take a break, I’m tired, and it’s hot out there,” he said, visibly embarrassed.
Without looking at me, he put down the wrench and went back into the house, and I heard him go upstairs. I didn’t move—I was petrified. He was going to denounce me, I was sure of it. First to Sandra, then to God knows who. My life as I knew it was over because I had enjoyed looking at a perfect little ass. I needed to do something and quick. Following him, apologizing, saying I was thinking about his mother and that I inadvertently looked at him when he turned around. No, it wasn’t credible, the boy was not a fool. Maybe I could just tell the truth, explain that I didn’t have sex for a long time and that looking at him made me have a bad reaction. That it was human.
Okay, good idea. Let’s do that.
Back into the house, I climbed the stairs, almost running, and knocked on his door. No answer. I tried to open, it was unlocked.
“Hey, Aaron, can I talk to you?”
“I-I don’t know.” He was sitting on his bed, his hand on his knees, looking down.
“I think we should talk.” I didn’t give him time to answer, closed the door behind me, and walked in his direction. As I sat next to him, I felt his body stiffening. Shit, he was afraid of me. Sandra wanted us to bond, well, I did a job so terrible it was almost funny. “About what happened outside.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“You’re right, it’s no big deal, and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I just wanted to apologize and ask if we can keep that between us.”
Still looking down, he shook his shoulders. “Yes, of course, why would I repeat something like that? And to who?”
Good, now I needed to go his way, to make him feel good. “Absolutely. You’re right. I knew you would say that, but I wanted to be sure.” Without doing it on purpose, I had raised my voice. Aaron clasped his hands on his knees, and, as I looked at his face, I saw he was giving quick looks toward me, but never entirely looking at me in the eye. Was he impressed by masculinity? Was he in need of that? Maybe this little gay boy liked to be manly taken care of. I needed to test my theory.
First, let’s be sweet.
“You know,” I said. “A man can have a lot of different reactions that he can’t control. What you saw outside is one of them. In front of something pretty, it’s natural.”
“Oh?” His face was now completely red, and I saw goosebumps on his arms. Perfect.
“You’re a pretty boy,” I said, almost whispering in his direction.
This time he raised his head and looked at me with incredulous eyes, his mouth half-open. God, he was beautiful—like his mother. “Do you really think so?” He asked.
“Yes, of course, why do you ask?”
“I still don’t have a boyfriend, and I’m not sure someone can find me attractive.”
“That’s BS. Look at you, you’re good-looking, charming. You’re only eighteen, you still have plenty of time to find someone.” Who would have thought that today I would give relationship advice to my eighteen-year-old gay stepson? Not me, for sure. But this poor boy looked like he needed an emotional presence, someone to be with him, to protect him. My cock still hard in my pants, I reached forward with my hand and slowly caressed his cheek. God, the touch was electrical, his skin so smooth. He didn’t push me back or move, and let me caress him.
“Did you ever do something with another man?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, only a kiss, with a friend.”
“I never kissed a man. I know some men had experiences when they were in high school but that didn’t happen to me.”
“Do… Do you think it’s because you didn’t want to, or you didn’t have the occasion?”
“Don’t know. Maybe I didn’t have the right friends.” Now was the time. My impulse was too strong to resist. I would be his first—today. Without breaking the caress, I moved my head forward, closed my eyes, and put my lips on his lips, kissing him with tenderness. I moved my head a little to deepen the action. I didn’t put my tongue, it was best to go step by step.
All right, now, let’s be a man. Let’s see if he likes a real masculine guy.
I broke up the kiss. “Did you like it?”
“Y-Yes, John. I liked your beard.”
I touched my face. Oh, yes, I hadn’t shaved for several days. Good.
I raised my voice like before. “When we were outside, I was looking at you. I wanted to see your body so bad.” He lowered his head, and became red again—it worked, he liked that.
“W-what did you want to see?”
“Your little ass.”
Without giving him time to do anything, I took his tee-shirt in both my hands and removed it. “Come on, remove that.” God, he was so skinny. I caressed his torso, his little nipples. He looked at my hand on his body, and I saw the bulge becoming bigger in his jeans.
“I-I don’t know if we should…”
“Shh, it’s only us. You don’t have to be afraid. No-one will ever know.” He didn’t answer, so I made him stand in front of me and unbuttoned his jeans. “Remove everything, I want to see you naked.” Still silent, he obeyed and removed his little blue briefs. “Turn around.”
Fucking hell, I had before me the most little and perfect ass I had ever seen—hairless and smooth. I didn’t dare to touch, but I hadn’t come this far to back up now. I needed to act—manly but gently. I took his right asscheek in my hand. “Come in the bed with me, Aaron.”
He joined me back, and I admired the crawling movement of his ass. Fucking beautiful. I wanted to take him right now, to fuck him powerfully. To make him mine.
He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, and I looked at his hard cock. Thin, but long, with very short blond hair.
“Lie down on the bed, Aaron. On your belly. I want to see your little ass.”
He positioned himself. My God, he really was an obedient and docile boy. But I needed to teach him to be mine. I gave him a slap on his ass—firm, but not too hard. That made him scream by surprise. Then, I moved on the bed to put my mouth near his ear, and I whispered. “You’ll say Okay, John.”
He audibly swallowed his saliva. “Okay… John.”
“”Good boy.” I caressed his hair and made my hand wander on his back to reach his ass. I looked calm in front of him, but inside I was like a beast, the need to plow him unbearable. Now I was sure of it, his fragile look made me want to be rough. I went behind him, made him tighten his legs, and took both his asscheeks in my hands. God, they were the same size. I spread his ass, to take a good look at his asshole. The more I discovered his body, the more I was in paradise. Very tight and perfectly hairless. Ready for me. Still spreading him, I reached forward and put my tongue on his little hole. Oh, he liked that, as he moaned loudly and grabbed the sheets. Well, I liked it too. Until this morning, the thought of licking another man’s hole would have grossed me. But Aaron’s taste was a marvel. A mix of strawberry—surely his shower gel—and something unknown. Maybe the taste of an eighteen-year-old gay boy ready for his stepdad. I continued to lick him wildly for a few minutes, making a nice movement with my tongue, starting from under his balls and going all over to the top of his line. Preparing him. Opening the place where I would be the first man to enter.
But his tightness was impressive, and I wondered how the fuck I would make my cock fit in there. I was thick, to say the least. But there was no way in hell I would leave this room without breeding this gay boy. I stopped licking him and removed my jeans, while he took back his cross-legged position. “Did you like what we just did?” I asked him, now only in my briefs.