Author's note:

Here's the tenth part of the story. Hope you enjoy it.

Feedback to “Brad Gillespie” can be sent to the address RBZ followed by the digits 3141 at Please put the story title in the subject line. But don't be surprised if the name on the responses is different. That e-mail account is under a different pseudonym than the one I used to write this story.

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Choosing a Stepfather

by “Brad Gillespie” and “Tucson Daddy”

Chapter 10:

The agreement

Classes went smoothly, with no quizzes promised for midweek, so Bob felt his study load would be lighter tonight. He'd called Steve earlier, before leaving home, to invite himself over around 5:30. This way he'd get some time with his lover, who was complaining about being left out of Bob's life. “You know I give you whatever time I have, honey,” he told Steve, “But this is the life of a married college student.”

“I know, Bob, but we only see each other a couple of times each week…” Steve began, when Bob cut him short. “It was three times last week.”

“With Connie working a real job now, can't you give up that minimum-wage job at the shop?”

“It's way more than minimum wage, as I've explained, but the work is easy, and I like the contact with people.”

“You know, if you gave up a few hours there, you could be sucking cock for those two hours.”

“Don't think I wouldn't like that, hon?” Bob shot back. “But, hey, I gotta go. See you later.”

“I love you,” sang Steve.

“Love you too, babe,” replied Bob.

It was true, Bob did love Steve with an intensity he'd not believed possible. Him, Bob, former straight guy, now a confirmed cock sucker and bottom for his gay lover. He pondered yet again how the fates had chosen him for this affair.

He pulled up at Steve's apartment and was inside in minutes. Up the elevator to Steve's floor and down the hall to his door. It was slightly ajar, and he stepped in. As usual, Steve was waiting for him in his usual state of nakedness. Time was short, so Steve took his hand to lead him to the bedroom. Three minutes later, Steve was atop Bob, with Bob's legs around his waist, fucking him with long, slow strokes.

“Ahhh…,” sighed Bob, enjoying the way Steve could make a simple fuck into a romantic event.

“I've missed you so, lover,” said Steve. “The hours we are apart seem like years. Yet when we are together like this, my heart melts for you.”

“Your cock has to be the eighth wonder of the world, you horny bastard,” whispered Bob lovingly. Steve's energy seemed boundless, and he rammed his thick love pole into Bob's anus time after time.

Sensing he was nearing his climax, Steve sped up, putting on one last burst of speed before shoving his tool deeply into Bob and crying out, then collapsing onto Bob. They lay together, panting, for several minutes, when Steve raised himself onto his elbows to relieve some weight on the man under him. Bob felt Steve's flaccid prick as it was forced out of his ass to flop between his legs. Steve rolled off of Bob, and he scuttled around to pull the condom off of it and began to suck the semen that covered Steve's soft cock.

“It was truly another good fuck. Thank you, love.”

“I thank you too, Steve. You really do know how to screw a gay and make him happy.”

They bantered on like this, saying nothing but liking to hear what each said, as all lovers do. When they arose, they went into the bathroom to shower, though never a quick one.

By 6:15, Bob was on his way home. Connie's car was already in the garage, so it was purely by luck that Bob happened to glance in to see a card lying on the passenger seat. Technically it was none of his business, since this was Connie's car, but he was curious. Opening the door and picking up the card, he saw in a beautiful feminine hand the words, “Connie, darling, thank you for the lovely time last Friday — Susan.”

Bob held the card, staring at the words, reading them over and over. “What the fuck!” he whispered to no one in particular. He was angry; blood pressure rising. He turned and was about to stomp into the house demanding an explanation, when the irony of the situation it hit him! While good ol' Bob was getting boinked by his gay lover, Steve, Connie was having a lesbian affair with her boss, Susan. What a perfect plot for their lives. Calmed now, he replaced the card on the seat, closed the car door, and continued into the house.

“Hi, honey. I'm home.”

After class the next day, Bob stopped in at George's for a consultation and another hypnotic-treatment. “I'm getting deeper into your memories, Bob. I've come upon several I'd like to discuss with you.” Bob nodded. “Let me remind you that this isn't perfect. It's not uncommon for the mind to interfere in the memory process, with what we call false memories.”

“Yes, I've read about women who were subtly induced to invent memories of events that did not happen. Is that it?”

“Right! So let me play back some of the more interesting sequences. You tell me if these sound reasonable. I won't continue along this path if they don't make sense.”

George pressed the play button on the recorder. What he heard next was his own voice saying, “Oh, God, yes, Dave, fuck me. Give me your cock deep in my ass. Fuck me! Fuck me!” Suddenly Bob stiffened and uttered a strangled, gurgling sound. His hands over his ears, he was saying over and over. “Turn it off!”

Shocked by Bob's emotional outburst, George did just that. He rushed to Bob's side. “Bob,” he said. “Bob, are you all right?” Bob was sobbing, rocking back and forth, saying, “no, no, no…”

George let Bob continue crying until his sobs had diminished to heavy breathing. Then he offered Bob a Kleenex and asked if he could get him something. “A glass of water?”

Bob shook his head. “No, I'm fine now.”

“Judging from your reaction to what you heard, this voice does sound familiar.”

Bob sat like a stone, his face red with shame that he'd been discovered, and nodded.

“Yes, those are my words, all right,” he said; then, drawing a deep breath, looked George in the face and let it all out. How his friend, Dave, had come out to him and drawn him into a homosexual relationship. In the last three months of high school, they had met for cock sucking and fucking and much more. “Now that you know, I suppose you'll rat me out to Connie,” he said accusingly.

George smiled and shook his head. “This is all privileged information. I cannot tell anybody. Even under the threat of death, torture, or legal demands. Your story is safe with me.” The absurdity of George's response made Bob laugh.

“So you won't tell her then?”

“I can't, even if I wanted to,” explained George. “My friendship with her stands outside my obligation to you, as my patient.”

“Then I think you should tell her, or rather, we should tell her together.”

George's eyes grew wide at the implications of what Bob was saying. “But why? Your secret is safe with me.”

Bob launched into his discovery of the card and his ongoing gay relationship with Steve.

George laughed softly and shook his head. “In all my years in this business, I don't think I've ever heard such a crazy idea.”

“Let me ask you a personal question,” Bob asked. “What would be your advice to a woman who finds out her spouse is in a homosexual relationship with a man, when she's in just as risky place as he?”

“I'd tell her to consider her options. She could give up her lesbian lover and confront him with the demand that he give up his gay lover.”

“Or,” Bob pushed.

“Or both of you continue with your relationships after talking about them.”

“Isn't it true that women tend to value their relationships more than men?”

“Yes, why?”

“Would you be willing to help me with this?”

George thought for a moment, then said, “I don't think it would violate any of my professional code.” He looked at Bob and continued, “I'm game if you are.”

George called Connie and asked her to come in for a conference, regarding what he had learned from the hypnotherapy. His explanation of Bob's deep-seated attraction for men was that it was the result of months of gay interaction in high school.

“That was over four years ago,” Connie said.

George explained two options that might work. Connie's relationship with Susan had grown deeper. She couldn't stop it. “Besides,” she said almost proudly, “I like sex with Susan.”

In the end, George would be the intermediary for their agreement. Reluctantly, Connie accepted the inevitable. Her mother had told her of her suspicions that Bob had had sex with Mel. That, and witnessing Bob's kiss with Mel, warned her that Bob was slipping into a gay lifestyle. She hoped to stop him from going there by offering this intermediate solution.

So Bob and Connie, along with George, met with Susan and Steve one afternoon for drinks. It was Connie's idea to bring all the parties together. Either have things blow up or find agreement. Steve and Susan were extremely nervous about it, but were assured there would be no fireworks. They'd discuss it like adults, and agree to stay the course or end it then.

Connie had become so familiar with her lesbian side that she valued her relationship with Susan very highly. Susan felt very deeply about Connie, so both women were willing to accept this unconventional situation. Connie had another reason to keep things as they were when she learned she was pregnant.

It was with great relief that Bob could be open with his relationship with Steve. Connie was still not comfortable with the idea that her husband was a cock sucker. It took several sessions with George to convince her that two men could have an open relationship. That Steve could accept hers and Bob's marriage with equanimity. She was uncertain whether to be angry or content that Bob didn't feel threatened by her lesbian relationship with Susan. In fact, he liked Susan. Being bisexual, he found her charms quite acceptable. Sometimes he had to stop himself from flirting with her. Connie might become jealous.

With all that was going on, Connie had to accept that she was soon going to be a mother. Of course, she was thrilled. What woman wouldn't be? A mother! Bob was thrilled, as were Steve and Susan, who considered themselves co-parents. What a deal for little Timmy, as they had decided to name the child after finding out it was a he. Not the sort of thing most kids might expect to be raised in.

Throughout this emotional brouhaha, Bob continued to see his “son,” Jeff. Over the months since Bob had accepted his position as Jeff's other dad, their connection had grown stronger. He had arranged to meet Jeff regularly, which made both Jeff and Ryan happy.

Bob felt that declaring his orientation so young, he was ignoring the possibility that he might be bisexual. Jeff went along with Bob's effort to stir a desire for girls by showing him pictures of young beauties of his own age. Even Bob would get hard seeing them at 12, 13, or 14, with their budding or growing breasts, ranging from bare smooth pussies to those with a good growth of hair, and very nice asses. But flipping through the pictures Bob brought, or watching the straight preteen sex videos, did nothing to cause Jeff's lovely boy penis to grow. Only the sight of the straight lover's cock did anything to rouse his lust. “Well,” he sighed, “Maybe when you get older and the newness of sucking boy cocks and balls wears off. Maybe then, you'll find girls more attractive.” With Bob's strong presence in his life, Jeff was gaining acceptance of his orientation. Jeff's constant desire to be the bottom in their lovemaking, his wish to please Bob in everything, do anything he wanted, was a sure sign that he would be a fantastic lover for a man. “Lucky men!” thought Bob.

Bob had explained how orientation is open when a child is born; only with the onset of puberty did boys and girls feel the urge for sex. “People are supposed to make people, so they need to fuck.” Most of the time it's men fucking women. For others, like Jeff, it was boys fucking boys.

“What would happen,” Jeff asked teasingly, “If he, Bob, entered a room to find both a naked man and a naked woman, both equally attractive? Which would he choose?”

“I'd probably go to the woman, for I love their beauty. I like seeing soft round breasts, and the female figure's wide hips giving her a pleasing figure. Plus women have much nicer butts than guys do, but that's me.” He smiled and added that while men have two holes to fill, women have three. “The one thing men have over women is a tighter fuck. A woman's vagina is nowhere nearly as tight.”

“Guys are more willing to experiment and try new things. Women don't seem so inclined. Maybe it's because their goal in life is to be a mom. Outside of kissing well and having nice figures, they wanted seed where it would become a baby. Anal didn't do that.”

On their date day, Bob arrived and rang the doorbell to announce his presence, as usual. He no longer needed to knock. Jeff heard him come in and met him, naked, at the door. It still amazed Bob that although Jeff was still a child, he had such adult characteristics in the physical sense. He could make love like a man, yet still giggle with delight over some small thing.

“Hi, daddy,” Jeff said, rushing to him to kiss and embrace. Their kisses were sensual, causing them to feel quite horny. One of Jeff's childlike attributes was lust. At 13, going on 14, he seemed always to be ready for a romp in the bed. Another was his fickleness. Ryan had told Bob that Jeff had made friends with a gay boy at school. He'd spent the night with Jeff several times, and Ryan was sure they had a thing going. Bob was not concerned, for boys, even gay ones, will be boys.

“Can we go into the pool, daddy?” Jeff asked with characteristic need to please him.

“Sure, baby,” Bob said. “Let me get undressed first.” This was an act that Jeff enjoyed. His small hands were quick into removing each item of Bob's clothing. He left Bob's bikini briefs until the last, wanting to first touch and caress the large bulge before pulling them down to kneel and feast for a moment on the precum-drooling piss slit.

Much as he would like to have drained Bob's large balls, he knew that Bob's recharge time would preclude a good fuck. He willingly gave up this lovely rod to conserve Bob's love juice.

Taking Jeff's small hand, they walked together to the pool. Jumping into the pool, they romped and frolicked until the continuous touch of their bodies rubbing together became too much for both of them. “Come, baby, let's go to bed. I'm so horny for your ass.”

“Oh, daddy. I'm glad. My ass is horny for your big cock.”

Walking to Jeff's bedroom, Bob noticed that Ryan's bedroom door was closed. Small sounds of pleasure slipped though. “Ryan seems to be happy fucking your cousin.”

Closing the door, Jeff acknowledged him. “Yeah, he gets it on almost every day.”

“Ever wish it were Ryan fucking you?”

“Once I did. But with you Bob, it's much nicer. Besides, you have a bigger cock. Thicker too. You really know how to make my bottom feel good.” He grabbed Bob's cock and slapped his own cheek for emphasis.

Bob took the bottle of lube to prepare Jeff's hole for his prick. Jeff wanted to oil up the cock that was about to breed him. They wiped their hands on the towel lying on the nightstand.

Jeff lay on his back, with legs spread wide and cheeks apart. He was grinning hugely as Bob moved over him, lowered his hips to the right point, then slid forward to contact Jeff's sweet, pink pucker.

“Mph!” he declared, indicating Bob's cock was kissing his boy hole.

“Ready?” asked Bob.

“Uh huh,” answered Jeff.

“Here goes!” with a slow movement, Bob pushed against his resisting sphincter until his cock head slipped through.”

“Ah,” they breathed together.

Jeff was looking sad, his eyes pleading. “Daddy, you need to fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

Who was Bob to deny this boy this marvelous experience of bonding with his gay lover? His first thrust was slow and easy, then out. The second was more dynamic, as was the reverse. Soon Bob was pounding away at the boy's bottom. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and Jeff's cries of unquenchable desires filled the room. To Bob, none of this registered. His sole purpose was to fill this boy's aching hole with his cock, to shoot his semen into his gut, to breed him like a girl.

Jeff's gurgled cry, “I'm cumming,” was followed by several spurts of boy spunk between them. This cascade of cum caused Bob's hardness to shoot his load. Jeff grunted in satisfaction, as he felt the cock fucking him jerk, sending sperm to coat his gut. One, two, three, four! Bob had stopped thrusting his man tool into the boy beneath him. Resting on his elbows, so as not to crush the small body, he watched sweat drip from his forehead onto Jeff's smiling face.

“Thank you, daddy. That was the best ever.”

“Thanks yourself, baby. You are such a wonderful fuck.”

It was but a few minutes when Bob's shriveling cock became a floppy thing to be squeezed like toothpaste from Jeff's bottom. They rolled onto their sides, Jeff's small legs around Bob's waist. Talking and kissing, they spoke words of deep affection for each other. Soon it had to end, for Bob always had a schedule to keep. His wife and other lover demanded much of his cock.

Bob washed up and got dressed, with Jeff walking beside him, still naked. He stood, unashamedly waving good-bye to Bob from the open doorway. Closing the door, he turned and went to clean up.

The days, the classes, the study times, interspersed with lovemaking with Connie, Steve, and Jeff continued uninterrupted. Suddenly Timmy's birth was upon them.

“Bob, wake up. My water's broken,” Connie said, shaking him. It was 3:24 AM.

“Huh? What?” asked a bewildered Bob. “Your water? Broken?” Then it hit him. Connie was clumsily moving to the side of the bed to rise. He quickly came around to help her. Smiling briefly in thanks, she pulled on clothes that lay nearby just for this emergency. Bob was dressed and ready to go. Picking up her travel bag, he took her arm, helping her to walk. Once in the car, Bob was very careful in backing out. No way did he want a collision with this precious cargo on board. Connie called the hospital to warn them that she was on her way. Next she dialed her doctor's emergency number, which was answered immediately. She told the man taking the call that she was about to give birth. Her next two calls were to Susan and Steve, both of whom whooped with joy and promised to come in.

It was unexpectedly quick and easy. Connie had barely been prepped and wheeled into the delivery room, with the doctors and nurses gathered around, when pangs became severe. Bob stood by holding her hand, coaching her.

“Breathe, breathe,” he said, speaking encouraging words.