Date: Thu, 21 Jul 2022 12:41:17 -0700
From: Mitch Gage
Subject: My Big, Dumb Stepson: Chapter 1

This short story is about a newly married man in his 50s who finds
himself with a socially-awkward stepson. The man has the same name as me,
but is certainly not meant to be me. I think some of your readers will
like it.

-------------------------------------

"I just wanna see it ..."

When he said that, I just stood there looking at him trying to figure it
out. Then I remembered what it was like when I was a teenager, only I
grew up with two brothers and a dad. My new stepson -- Derrick --
standing in front of me never really had a dad, and no siblings.

"Please? Will you?"

Just a few minutes ago he had come down the upstairs hallway as I was
leaving the bathroom and stood pretty much in my way, which was nothing
new because this kid was as awkward as hell. He had only been my stepson
for about a month but was starting to become annoying. He didn't talk
much, and when he did it was rarely in complete sentences.

And he's a tremendous dork -  he's only a teenager but he's somehow
6'3" (and apparently still growing) with about 245 lbs of corded muscle
slapped on. I wish I was as built as this kid when I was his age. Hell I
wish I looked like that now. (I'm 52, and I'm a muscled six-footer, but
I was never as yoked as this kid!) Plus he's got this greasy blonde hair
that he kind of parts on the side, a greasy face with some acne, and a
pair of thick glasses that make his blue eyes look really big and stupid
-- like they are never looking at you. Without all that he wouldn't be
bad-looking, he has a square jaw and decent features, but whatever.

And I had figured he would be out of the house in a year or two -- I
didn't think I would have any actual parent stuff to do.

He had started this conversation like this:

"Hey Mitch? Can I ... can I ask you ... can I ask you something?"

"Sure, buddy, what's up?" was my reply.

He paused, then "I wanna know ... I was wondering ... I wanna ask ... I
mean, if you ... I ... I ... just want to ask if you ... if you would ... I
mean ..."

I just looked up at him, wondering what the question was. He was looking
down at the floor, not me.

"Can I ... I mean ... can I see ... will you show me ... um can you show me
..."

"Show you what?" I asked back.

"Your ... um ... thing."

"My what?"

"Your thing."

"My `thing'? What's my `thing'?"

"You know ... your thing."

"You mean my dick? Why do you want me to show you my dick, Derrick ?"

"I just wanna see it."

I just stood there not knowing what to say or think. He stood here
breathing loudly -- he always breathes really loud.

"Please? Will you?"

"Why?" I asked.

"I've never seen one except my own of course ... and now ... well now
that you're my dad I was hoping you would show me some stuff."

"Like my penis?'

"um ... Yeah."

I could tell he was incredibly nervous, not looking at me at all, and I
started to feel bad for the kid and the fact that he grew up without any
guys around.

"And I ... I waited until mom was out of town to ask you this. I've been
wanting to ask you since the day we moved here."

I thought about it and finally said:

"Well, Derrick, here's the deal. If I unzip my pants and take my dick
out, then you might tell someone that I exposed myself to you, and I'm
not going down that road ... However ... if you want to, I'll let you
unzip my pants. And you can look at it as long as you want. How does that
sound?"

"Okay." He replied. I could barely hear him. His white greasy skin
turned tomato red.

He stood there for about a minute and then finally he reached over and
pulled down my zipper. He put his fingers inside and brushed them against
my briefs.

"You'll be able to get in there and see it better if you undo the
belt," I offered.

He unbuckled my leather belt and it fell away opening up the top of my
Dockers. But instead of pulling down my briefs, he just continued rubbing
his hand up against my dick. And here's the thing -- it doesn't matter
who is rubbing your dick -- it feels good. And it gets you hard. So here
I was beginning to grow a boner -- because he kept on doing it -- and it
wasn't with some hot chick but instead with this big zit-faced
muscle-headed moron.

Actually I shouldn't call him a moron. Besides lifting weights every
day, he's pretty smart with computers and electronics and stuff.

But man, what a spaz -- no friends -- certainly no girlfriend -- and
always dressed in one of those striped two-button polo shirts that he
grew out of long ago but still wears, with a t-shirt underneath. Sleeves
don't even come close to covering his football-shaped biceps and the
fabric is stretched like a trampoline across his beefy chest, but he
manages to always have that second button closed. His faded jeans aren't
tight -- except in the thighs because his quads are so big -- and he's
always reaching down to pull the fabric away from the inside of his
thigh. And I've never seen him wearing anything else -- or even with his
shirt off.

Add to that a pair of fetid gym socks -- grey from grime - and the
world's cruddiest pair of size 14 Converse sneakers.

And still more of the rubbing. I've got a veiny almost 8-inch dick that
always points straight up against my stomach when it's hard and it was
quickly becoming hard with this rubbing action. This is not at all what I
was expecting out of this when he asked if he could "see my thing." It
was starting to come up past the waistband of my briefs.

I finally let out a heavy sigh of exasperation.

In response he asked softly, "Is it um ... okay if I do this?"

"Is that what you wanted to do?" I asked.

He kept on for about another minute before he finally replied.

"It's what I want to do."

So this hulking dork with his greasy face rubbing my dick in the hallway
of my house, breathing with his loud breaths, and my dick now fully
engorged and standing full-mast, up and out of my shorts. What the fuck
was going on?

He then reached up and palmed my dickhead. When he did, his jaw dropped
open slightly and stayed that way. It felt so good it made me close my
eyes. I kept them closed as he continued to do it and finally he pushed
down my briefs -- all of this with the same hand he had been using -- and
freed by tortured dick and balls from the underwear trapping them. I
started to precum. I couldn't believe it.

I mean I had my dick sucked by a guy one time in college, but it didn't
go anything like this.

"Are you satisfied?" I asked.

"I wanna keep doing this."

If you keep doing it, Derrick, you're gonna make me cum. Is that what
you want?"

"You mean it will make you ejaculate?"

"Yes, eventually."

He did a small shrug with his shoulders.

Then he said, "I want to see you ejaculate."

I was coming close to doing just that when I thought what's going on
with him? Is he really getting off on this? So I decided I'd give some
of his own.

"Derrick? Can I see your thing?"

He waited about a minute before replying short of breath, "Uh huh."

He was focused on my dick as it was becoming slimier and slimier with
precum, his mouth agape and some drool starting to drip. He felt it go
over his chin and he wiped it away with his free hand.

I reached over to his jeans and unsnapped the button and pulled down the
zipper over the bulge in his underwear. I thought `oh yeah this kid is
hard alright' before I realized he wasn't hard at all, but just packing
a big fat soft dick. I pushed his jeans past his tree-trunk thighs and
they fell to the floor.

Then I lowered his Fruit-of-the-Looms and noticed they were starched in
front -- probably from a wet dream -- or maybe he rubbed one out at
school in his jeans?

Anyway, his fat, greasy dick slid out and hung over his underwear,
pointing down. Of course his dick was greasy! What the hell. It was
pretty damn fat and as I yanked on it, it very quickly grew in size and
became hard.

Each time I made a movement, he would say, "Oh." Just like that.,
"Oh." He must have said it a million times that afternoon, sometimes
with a gulp for air in between.

"Oh ... oh ... oh ...oh ..."

It was a crazy-looking dick -- really wide for most of its length, like a
surfboard, with a big knob that was still smaller than the widest point
of the shaft. He soon became hard and it was absolutely the widest, most
brutal-looking club I have ever seen -- thick, marble-hard, pointing
downward and slightly to the left. Misshapen I suppose, but terrifying.

The sight and feel of it in my hand made me swallow hard, and I think
Derrick even heard it when I did it.

Man, with the exception of its downward inclination, if I had a piece of
gristle like this when I was this kid's age, I would have been legendary
in high school. Full size it must be 9-and-a-half inches or more, and
looked like it weighed 3 pounds. It was fucking enormous.

I wondered for a second if it would fit inside of one of his size 14
sneakers.

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... "

He had moved closer to me and I could feel his furnace-hot breath on my
forehead and the crazy heat radiating off his body.

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ..."

He was sweating now with beads rolling off his forehead, and his t-shirt
was soaked with it. Giant patches of sweat darkened the armpits of his
polo shirt and under his pecs. And I was sweating as well.

He kept going at my slimy dick like a simple machine - same movement over
and over -- and for me, feeling this giant kid's swollen pipe in my hand
made me feel like I was gonna shoot any second. I couldn't get over how
thick and hard it was -- plus the whole reality of standing in the
hallway jacking dicks with my slack-jawed teenage stepson was making my
head spin. I mean, what the fuck?

Suddenly, my throbbing dick exploded and strings of my warm white jelly
shot straight up and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Derrick's jaw
fell all the way open when this happened, but he kept fisting my dick and
you know how the sensation after you cum is unbearable. I tried to pull
his hand off but it was unmovable -- this fucking kid was so damn strong.
My eyes rolled back for a second and I moaned loudly, still not letting
go of Derrick's greasy, throbbing club.

"OH ... OH ... OH ... "

With that, Derrick's down-pointing dick lurched suddenly and shot out
what must have been five or six thick steady streams of boiling-hot cum,
spraying my bare legs and the hallway carpet. It was fucking nuts. The
sight of that huge pounding piece of meat going full-blast onto the
carpet was amazing.

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ..."

To my relief, he finally let go of my tortured meat.

It was like the sight of me cumming made him do it. He leaned over and
hugged me, covering me with his grease and sweat. He almost knocked me
down with his weight. Then he just stood in front of me, breathing
loudly, looking at the floor. This is an age-difference story but I
suppose it would be categorized as incest.

Finally I said, "You should probably go in and take a shower and get
cleaned up, buddy ..."

"Okay, Mitch."

And then I added, "You know -- you can call me Dad if you want, big guy.
And I'll clean up this stuff here on the carpet."

I couldn't get over that dumb kid's massive, cumbersome tool. It was
mind-boggling. To think that crazy thing was attached to my teenage
stepson dork.

And I sure as hell was not prepared for what happened just a little while
later.