Date: Thu, 14 Feb 2019 11:43:39 -0800
From: Jim Selfie <thejimselfie@gmail.com>
Subject: Stepdad Becomes Real Dad - Part 5

Stepdad Becomes Real Dad – Part 5 of 6

By Jim Selfie
© 2019. All Rights Reserved.
Do not copy or repost without consent of author.

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"Is something going on with you and Sal?"

I looked up from my Cheerios. Milk dribbled from my lower lip, dropped open
in surprise. "Huh?"

Mom sighed and set down her coffee mug. "You heard me. Is something going
on with you and Sal?"

It was Sunday morning and we were at the breakfast table, still in our
PJs. Sal had already been at work for hours. I wiped my mouth with the back
of my hand and swallowed hard. "Um... why do you ask?"

Mom gave me a concerned look. "Ever since our movie night I don't think
I've seen you say two words to each other. I thought you were getting along
so well."

Boy, was she right. I flashed back to the night in question, when I nestled
beneath a blanket in Sal's lap and sucked a huge load from his uncut
cock... right next to Mom, who had no idea. I turned away from her, feeling
suddenly guilty.

"Yeah, I... I thought so, too," I said glumly.

The truth is, Sal was more distant than ever. He was working his ass off,
for one thing— he had his regular job with the city plus a few odd jobs
on the side, all of which were in their busy season. When he came home he
was usually dead tired and asleep within the hour. But in the precious few
minutes we did spend together each day, he and I barely spoke. I guess he
intended to make good on his promise of `the last time' but it seemed a
little overboard to me... and now Mom was noticing, too.

She picked up her mug and took a thoughtful sip. "Well, maybe once he gets
his boat you two can have some real bonding time."

Sal had been talking about buying a boat for years. I had never known him
to go fishing, but somehow he was obsessed with owning a fishing boat. Mom
and I would just smile and nod whenever he mentioned it at the dinner
table. Though lately, his vague promises of `taking me out on the lake
someday' were particularly appealing now that we had crossed a sexual line.

My only regret was that we hadn't crossed that line enough. The days turned
into weeks, weeks turned into months. My horniness and obsession with Sal
only grew as the memory of our encounters became more distant. I had blown
countless loads thinking about those times. I cherished the mementos of our
sordid hookups— the torn, stained undies from our bareback fuck on the
bathroom floor, the pics of my face painted with Sal's cumload— but I
was ready to make some new memories.

I just needed a plan.

As a substitute for the real thing, I began raiding Sal's laundry. Whenever
I was home alone, which was pretty often given my parents' busy work
schedules, I would quietly stalk into the master bedroom and begin my
detective work. My job was to find everything that Sal had worn, the more
recent the better, and sniff and lick and suck every bit of his essence
from the clothing. Anything that had touched him was fair game, from his
sour-smelling socks to the damp, deeply-stained armpits of his T-shirts.

His briefs, of course, were the ultimate prize. I plucked them from the
pile of tangled clothes in the hamper like a rare and revered artifact. I
inspected every inch of the dingy white cotton, turning it slowly in my
hands. From the yellow droplets of piss stained in the front to the musky
ass sweat seasoning the back, Sal's underwear offered a carnival for my
senses. I pressed the fabric to my noise, inhaling every particle of my
stepdad's aroma.  I huffed the acrid piss stench, rubbed the musky, earthy
ass-scent all over my face. My cock throbbed and poured precum as I
pictured Sal's meaty genitals encased in this fabric. I imagined his hefty
uncut cock bunched up on top of his heavy egg-shaped balls, constricted in
sweaty, smelly cotton during a sixteen hour workday. I wondered how many
boners he popped throughout the day, how many times that cock rose up and
fought against the fabric that kept it prisoner. Were any of these stains
pre-cum, souvenirs from Sal's constantly drooling cockhead? Just in case, I
sucked the fabric into my mouth, collecting samples of all of Sal's fluids
and mixing them with my own saliva.

But I wanted more. I wanted Sal's flesh, not just his clothes. I wanted his
cum, not just his stale, leftover piss and sweat stains. I missed
him... missed plotting and scheming to seduce him. We were so long
overdue. But I was fresh out of ideas.

That is, until I noticed the wrapper.

If it wasn't for my constant detective work in Mom and Sal's room, I never
would have seen it. I was on my way to the hamper, passing close to the
bed, when a glint of silver on the floor caught my eye. I bent down to
inspect it and saw that it was a strip of foil, printed with a logo and
text... the top of a condom wrapper.

"What the fuck?" I whispered to myself.

I renewed my search efforts. I looked under the bed, around the nightstand,
even between the sheets... nothing. Then I stepped into the en suite
bathroom.

It was there, in the small trash can near the toilet, beneath some
balled-up tissues and used Q-tips. My heart raced when I saw it, shiny and
still slick with lube: a used condom, tied at the base, the tip bloated
with an oversized snow-white cum load.

"Jackpot."

I pinched the latex between my thumb and forefinger and lifted it up to eye
level. It was an off-yellow color, transparent and surprisingly
heavy. Thick white jizz pooled halfway up the length of it, like a water
balloon half-filled with clotted cream. It sloshed heavily as I turned the
condom over in my trembling hands. It was one of Sal's obscene cumloads,
preserved as if in amber. Waiting for me.

I untied the base pretty easily, careful not to spill a drop. When it was
open I peered down the length of the condom from above, stuck my nose in it
to smell the load... then tipped it up to my lips and upended the entire
contents into my mouth.

The temperature was different but the taste was exactly the same. I flashed
back to our movie night, to Sal's fresh cum shooting into my mouth... the
strong, almost bleachy taste with a sweet note that stayed on the tongue. I
rolled the jizz around in my mouth, squelched it between my teeth, stirred
it with my tongue. I pulled my hard cock out of my jeans and stroked as I
gargled the day-old load. Then I rolled up the condom and used the lube
still on it to slide it over my own cock— I was now wearing the same
condom Sal had worn, my cock in the exact same sheath he had been
inside. It didn't take long for me to fill that condom again with my own
watery teenage load. When I peeled it off again my jizz pooled at the tip,
only about a third as full as Sal's original load. I drank it all the same,
pouring my own sperm into my mouth to mix with my stepdad's before I
finally swallowed the whole lot.

It wasn't quite as good as straight from the tap, but for the moment I was
satisfied.

But a short while later, as I lay on my bed and lazily jerked out another
load, I began to wonder: why would Mom and Sal be using condoms? I thought
they wanted to have a kid... next to the fishing boat, having a kid was
Sal's favorite dinner conversation. He wanted to be a dad, a real Dad, more
than anything. So why would he be using a condom with Mom?

Unless...

My heart skipped a beat. Could he...? Was it possible that Sal was wearing
a condom because he didn't want a kid... with someone he was fucking other
than Mom?

My face got red even as my dick throbbed harder. Sal wouldn't be having an
affair... would he? Not with someone else, I mean. He wouldn't do that to
Mom... he wouldn't do that to me...

...Would he?

He was working a lot, that's for sure, and was almost never home. He
certainly could be getting a piece on the side during some of those `work'
hours. But that condom was in our trash— when would he possibly have
time to sneak some strange bimbo into the house, fuck her, and get away
with it?

Unless...

Occasionally Sal mentioned stopping home for lunch during his workday; that
would be the perfect time, when Mom was at work and I was at school. He
said it was good to chill out at home before heading back to the
grind. Could part of his `chilling out' be meeting up with some dumb blonde
slut, Sal's favorite kind of woman? Could he actually be pounding some
other lady right on the same bed he shares with Mom?!

Somehow this thought enraged me, even as it made me insanely jealous. If
Sal was fucking around on Mom (and me), I was determined to find out.

I waited until the next week, on a day when I knew Mom would be busy with
meetings at the hospital. Sal left for work just after dawn, as usual. I
went through the motions of getting ready for school but never actually
left the house. Once Mom took off in her Camry around 7:30 I threw my
backpack back in my room and settled in. If Sal was having an affair, this
was the day he was likely to do it... and I was going to catch him in the
act.

Hence the plan... Operation: Stakeout.

(I know I know, dumb name... and the plan wasn't much better)

I guess they say stakeouts are ninety-nine percent waiting, but...  man. It
gets really old. I basically waited around upstairs, within earshot of the
front door and the garage, for about three and a half hours straight. I
checked the windows periodically but no sign of his truck. I was bored to
tears... finished all my schoolwork, played muted games on my phone,
scrolled through the dirty pics on my secure site. Still nothing. Sal's
lunch hour came and went, and still no sign.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was totally innocuous. Maybe it was just a
condom full of my stepdad's cum. Maybe I was just a horny, loser idiot with
a stupid schoolboy crush. What was I doing?! I felt so dumb.

I needed a pick-me-up. And I knew just where to get it.

But when I got to the master bedroom, the clothes hamper was empty. Someone
actually did the laundry for once? Damn it! I bit my lip and gazed around
the room, desperate for some fragrant memento of Sal's that I could jerk
off with.

"Maybe..."

I crept into the en-suite bathroom, not really expecting to find
anything. Maybe a forgotten pair of briefs on the floor? A pube on the
toilet seat? A whiff of his cologne? But what I found was much more
tantalizing... and perplexing.

There, right on top of the trash, was another used condom... tied off,
glistening with lube and natural fluids, bulging with a load of bright
white cum.

"Holy shit."

I plucked it out gingerly and took a whiff. A new and pungent scent met my
nostrils... was this what pussy smelled like? I wrinkled my nose and cupped
the dangling, load-laden tip in my free hand. My God... it was still kind
of warm. Sal's cum filled the lower half of the latex sheath. It must have
been from that morning... it had to have been him and Mom before work. I
guess I was wrong... but who cares? I had a semi-fresh cumload in my hands
and my pants were bulging. At that moment, all I cared about was playing
with Sal's sperm and spraying some of my own.

I guess that's why I didn't hear him come in.

"What the fuck?!"

I jumped. An involuntary yelp escaped my lips. The loaded condom slipped
from my fingertips and hit the tile with a wet smack.

Sal stood five feet away, in his work clothes, drenched in sweat. His bushy
black mustache twitched above his full lips. His hazel eyes flicked from my
face to the condom and back again.

"Chase... what the hell are you doing in here?"

"Uh..."

For the first time in a long time, I was at a total loss for words. How the
hell had I not heard him come in?! I was so preoccupied with the full
condom that I let my guard down... and now instead of catching Sal in the
act, he had caught me.

"Bud," he said sternly, "shouldn't you be in school?"

I was frozen in shock, my face red as an apple.

"What are you doing in my bathroom?" he asked coldly. His eyes bored into
mine. "And what is that?"

My heart almost leapt out of my chest. I looked down at the condom, curled
at my feet like a limp and bloated snake.

"It's a... uh... it's a condom?" I stammered.

"I know that part, bud."

"It's, um... it's..."

I took a deep breath and blurted this next part out, barely aware of what I
was saying:

"They showed us this video in health class about putting these on but I
never tried it and I don't know how and I want to be sexually active so I
have to learn and I was in here to pee cuz I had to go really bad and
couldn't wait to get upstairs and I saw it in the trash and I picked it up
cuz it was tied and I was wondering how you got it on like that but that
doesn't make any sense cuz—"

"Whoa whoa whoa bud, slow down," Sal interrupted. "Let's start with why
you're out of school."

"We had a minimum day," I lied. Then, desperate to deflect: "What are you
doing here? I thought you were at work."

Sal glanced down at his t-shirt, dark with sweat. "Got too overheated and
the foreman sent me home to shower. Don't change the subject." Sal took a
step in closer, his face perplexed. "What the hell were you doing with
that?" His eyes flicked down to the condom, still curled lewdly on the
floor. I blushed.

Without thinking, I bent down and snatched it up. Sal's load sloshed
audibly within the limp latex. "I was just... I mean, I've never used a
condom before and... I wasn't expecting to see one here, you know?" I said,
picking up steam as I went. "I mean I was mostly just curious how it got
here."

I offered him the condom in my outstretched hand. The balloon of semen
drooped between my spread fingers. Sal looked repulsed, but did not shy
away.

"Are you having an affair?" I blurted out, surprising us both.

"What? No! Of course not."

"Are you... jerking off with condoms?"

"No... why would anyone do that?"

"I don't know!" I said hurriedly, though I had seen a few amateur vids on
that very subject. "So you're... you're using them with Mom?"

Now it was Sal's turn to blush. "It's not really any of your business,
Chase," he said sternly. Then, after a moment: "But... yes. We're using
condoms."

"But... I thought you guys wanted to have a baby?"

Sal sighed and looked away. He looked truly forlorn. "Yeah. I thought so
too." He sniffed and wiped his bushy mustache, a nervous habit I'd come to
adore. "Your Mom says we still will... sometime. Just, not right now."

"Can't she just like... take the pill?"

"She hates what it does to her body."

"Oh," I answered softly.

An awkward pause settled over the bathroom. Sal and I avoided each others'
eyes. Poor guy, I thought. He seemed really broken up about this...

"You gonna put that back in the trash where you found it?"

"Oh. Right." I peered down at the loaded condom in my hands and imagined
that precious seed in the trash... what a waste! I reluctantly turned and
tossed it back in the garbage, where it sank to the bottom of the can with
a thunk.

"I gotta take a shower, bud. I stink," Sal said with a sniff. His shoes
were already off (no wonder I didn't hear him) and he peeled his
sweat-drenched socks from his feet as he spoke. "You all done in here?"

The sour stench of Sal's feet wafted to my nose and I inhaled it
greedily. Even his worst scents seemed to work wonders on my brain... and
cock. "Yeah, I'll go, I just..." I moved as if to exit, but hesitated on my
way past Sal. He stopped and stiffened, clearly uncomfortable in this close
proximity.

"Yeah?" he asked warily.

I took a deep breath through my nose, pretending to steel myself— but
really just perving out on my stepdad's rank sweat smell. Standing this
close I was bathed in his manly aroma, the sharp scent of his body odor
after a long day's work. I made a mental note to find every article he was
wearing in the laundry hamper later.

"I was wondering..." I said after a moment, "if I could... um... have some
of those?"

Sal blinked. "Some... condoms?"

I looked away, feigning discomfort. But I was getting more comfortable by
the minute. In fact, maybe I could turn this whole thing
around... "Yeah. Would that be okay? Because... um..."

Sal softened, let his guard down a bit. I sensed the paternal energy taking
over. "Hey. All good, bud. You don't have to explain." Sal moved past me,
his bare feet making sweaty prints on the tiled floor. He reached into one
of the drawers beneath the sink and pulled out a box of large-sized
condoms. He handed them to me with a wry smile. "Here. Take the box."

I returned the smile and accepted the box, making sure to subtly caress his
rough, callused hand as I did. "Thanks, Sal. You're the best."

"Don't mention it," he said with a wink. Then added: "Seriously, don't
mention it... to your Mom, I mean. She and I haven't exactly talked about
you being, um... sexually, uh, active... and I don't want her to think I'm,
you know, encouraging you."

Oh, if he only knew how much he was encouraging me. "Promise," I said
truthfully. "Mom will never find out."

He nodded, satisfied, and turned back toward the shower. I took my time
leaving and watched in the mirror as he peeled off his sweaty t-shirt. I
was almost to the hall when I turned back, ready with a new plan.

"Hey Sal?"

"Huh?" he said with a start. Sal whipped around, surprised to see me back
in the room. I drank in his naked torso— the broad shoulders, the beefy
pecs covered in black hair, the furry beer belly paunch over the sagged
waist of his work pants. A slight sheen of sweat made his skin glow in the
afternoon light. Fuck. This man was a blue collar wet dream.

I gulped a mouthful of drool before I asked, in a meek voice: "Can you show
me how to put it on?"

Sal stared at me blankly for a moment. Then he cleared his throat, his
telltale sign of discomfort. He wiped his thumb and forefinger over his
mustache.

"Uh... that's not... I mean there's instructions on the... it's pretty
simple, bud—"

"No I know," I spoke over him, "but my friend Geoff said that his cousin
put one on wrong one time and got a girl pregnant and had to drop out of
school and it kinda ruined his life."

Sal gave me a skeptical look. "...You worried about getting a girl
pregnant?"

I shrugged. "Among other things, yeah."

He cleared his throat again and turned away, busying himself with the
shower. "Bud, can we talk about this another time? I'm filthy right now."

God I loved it when he talked dirty. "Yeah, I'm sorry Sal. I shouldn't have
asked."

His shoulders slumped a bit. Encouraged, I twisted the knife. "I never know
when or how to ask these dad-type questions. It's so awkward. I'm sorry,
I'll stop bothering you about this dad stuff."

I turned as if to go, knowing I wouldn't get far.

"Bud. Wait."

Gotcha.

I turned back sheepishly. Sal stepped toward me and motioned for the box of
condoms. I handed it over and he popped it open as he spoke. "It's pretty
simple. Here. You take it out of the wrapper and see how it only rolls one
way? You just pinch the tip and..."

Somewhere along the line I stopped listening. Sal was standing just inches
from me, shirtless, sweaty, stinking. The acrid odor under his arms was
intoxicating. As far as I knew he never wore deodorant, so the whiff of his
pits was untainted and natural, raw and manly.  With Sal's focus on the
condom explanation I was free to take him in, from the damp, curly hair of
his unwashed pits to the generous bulge protruding from his baggy jeans.

"Make sense?" he asked abruptly.

I snapped out of my trance and blinked at him. "Not really."

Sal glanced from the unwrapped condom in his hand back to me. "...Which
part don't you get?"

"Um... all of it?" I said with a shrug. "I don't know... can you just show
me?"

Sal's lips dropped open. His bushy mustache twitched. "Like... show you,
show you?"

"Yeah... I mean that way I know I'd get it right, and not take any
risks. You know?"

Sal cleared his throat once, twice. The condom ring pinched in his fingers
trembled nervously between us. "Well, I can't... I mean... one thing is
that you have to be hard to put a condom on, so I can't really... you
know—"

"That's okay," I said quickly. "No problem."

I don't think I've ever shucked my pants quicker than in that very
moment. Before Sal could stop me, I had my jeans and underwear pooled
around my ankles. When I stood back up, my painfully hard erection was
finally free. We both looked down at it, lewdly pulsing in the air: a
raging teen boner oozing a string of milky precum.

"Is that hard enough?"

Sal gulped. This was the first time I had ever really shown him my dick—
even in our first shower encounter, I'd covered up my boner in
embarrassment. Now I was unabashed, bold. I let it throb between us, my
hips jutted up to push my six and three-quarters inches toward him. Sal
looked away, his cheeks crimson.

"Yeah that's pretty hard," he croaked dryly.

"Okay. Just show me how to start and I'll take over," I encouraged. I
shuffled out of my jeans and stepped in closer. My erection was now just
inches from Sal. He looked down nervously and handed me the still-rolled
condom.

"Here."

"Okay but how does it start?"

"You just put this end over your..." Sal's eyes flicked down. My cock
pulsed, releasing a fresh bead of pre. "Over the head," he finished with
some difficulty.

"Okay..." I fidgeted, really laying on the nerves. When I reached up, I
didn't grab the condom in his outstretched hand. Instead, I took his wrist,
slick with sweat, and turned in toward him. "So if your hand was my
hand—"

With Sal's wrist still in my grasp, I backed into him so my bare ass nearly
brushed the crotch of his jeans. His right arm draped over mine, his
surprised face just over my shoulder. I had maneuvered myself into his
arms, my back against his front, holding his hand with the condom in it
just above my quivering hard cock.

"I would just, put it on like... this?"

Sal's muscles tensed but I had already begun the move. I pulled his hand
down toward my rod, guiding him to me. His rough palm grazed my sensitive
head, sending a chill down my spine. I shuddered as the rest of his hand
brushed along my length, until finally the latex ring connected with my
leaking tip. Sal's fingers trembled as his breathing sped up.

"Chase, we can't—"

"What do I do now, Dad?" I asked quickly. The use of the word `Dad' halted
Sal's protest. I never called him that... unless I needed to. I let it sink
in before I continued, with a hint of shy vulnerability in my voice.

"I want to make sure I get this right. Can you help me, Dad?"

Sal made no move to continue, or to step away. Our bodies were nearly
entwined, his sweaty arm around me. I was surrounded by his scent. My cock
throbbed in our hands.

"What should I do with my other hand, Dad?"

I reached around behind me and found Sal's left arm hanging limp at his
side. He let me guide it around to my front, offering little resistance as
I wrapped his remaining arm around me. Now we were in a true embrace... me
naked from the waist down, him naked from the waist up. I settled into him
more, pressing my body to his. My bare ass connected with his crotch as I
pulled both of his shaking hands to my cock. His growing erection lodged
between my cheeks.

"Can you please show me?" I turned over my shoulder to face him— our
lips were inches apart, his quivering mustache just within reach of my
tongue. I resisted the urge to kiss him. His breathing was shallow, hot and
sour against my cheek. I savored the smell, the dampness of his sweat
soaking through my t-shirt, the feeling of his strong arms around me.

"Can you show me how, Dad?" I whispered again, pleading with my eyes.

He wasn't looking at me. I followed his gaze and was surprised to
see... us. The bathroom mirror reflected a taboo scene that almost shocked
even me: a stepfather holding his son in his arms, both hands on the teen's
cock. The boy's milky white skin looked so pale against the dark,
sun-kissed flesh of the father. The two figures regarded us as we regarded
them. Mirror-Sal stared back at the real Sal, both of them seemingly
perplexed by the others' actions. I studied the brown eyes of Mirror-Chase,
deep with longing, dark with hunger. Mirror-Sal's eyes never wavered.  His
jaw was set in grim determination. Fresh sweat beaded on his brow. His
thick mustache twitched. The veins in his muscled arms pulsed as he set to
work.

Behind me, the real Sal's cock pulsed. My pert asscheeks responded,
pressing into him.

In front of me, Sal's hands were working a condom over my cock. I couldn't
believe it. My straight stepdad, the man I jerked off to nightly, was
touching my penis. My cock was in another man's hands. And not just any
man— a sweaty, hairy, handsome hunk. My own stepdad. A shudder went
through me. I almost passed out from the sheer pleasure. My knees went weak
and I slumped into Sal's arms. He effortlessly held me steady, my ass
pressed into his growing crotch, as my cock throbbed in his hands.

Sal's right hand held onto my flared mushroom tip, now encased in latex. A
steady stream of milky pre-jizz leaked out of me into the transparent
sheath. His left hand rolled the latex ring down my shaft. The motion of
his hand, methodically sliding up and down to roll the condom along my
length, was all it took to start my pre-orgasmic throes.

"Dad... oh God."

Sal moved to stop and I grabbed both of his hands. With a vise-like grip, I
pulled him down my length. My throbbing tip jammed against Sal's right palm
as his left hand stroked roughly down my length. My balls swung up with the
force of my thrust, smacking against Sal's still-gripped hand. Then he took
over. He stroked back up my length, then down, then up. Latex crinkled as
our tempo increased. Holy fuck... Sal was jerking me off. I let out a cry
of pleasure and gyrated my hips against him, awash in a sexual heat.

"Oh, Dad! Dad! Unngh!"

The tip of the condom became suddenly white. My cum exploded out of me and
pooled in the latex as Sal's hands gave my junk a final squeeze. He let go
of my erection as my second shot fired into the condom, but I still held
onto his wrists for support. I bucked helplessly against him, my body on
fire. Mirror-Sal watched the scene in stoic silence, his mouth dropped
slightly open. The hard tube of Sal's cock pressed into my crack as I
repeatedly humped my ass into him. Cymbals crashed, fireworks exploded, my
vision went white and then slowly resolved. The whole interaction lasted
under a minute but it was the most powerful orgasm of my young life. Sal
and his reflection waited for me to finish before they carefully stepped
away.

"Thanks, Dad," I breathed heavily.

Then I turned to Sal and gave him a hug. He stiffened, surprised by the
sudden gesture. I sensed his awkwardness, the desire to run and avoid and
shun and forget.  I didn't care. I loved the feeling of his padded beef
under my wiry arms. I pressed my still leaking cock into his clothed
erection, jealous of the layers of latex and denim and cotton that kept us
from connecting. I squeezed him against me and held on tight. I wasn't
going to let him go that easily. I was euphoric, high on my orgasm, pumped
full of endorphins and lust.

Maybe that's why I did it.

I pressed my lips into Sal's. I kissed him. I wasn't planning to do it, but
there we were.

Two things struck me right away: the wiry bristles of his mustache, and the
pillowy softness of his lips. How was it possible to feel two such equal
and opposite sensations in one kiss? The rough and the soft, the hard and
the gentle... I was overwhelmed by it, overwhelmed by the smell and the
taste and the sight of it.

Our eyes were open. We were looking at each other.

Our lips were touching. I melted into him.

My arms caressed him. My lips opened to him. His lips stayed closed. My
tongue reached for him. My arms encircled his neck. My tongue brushed his
lips, still closed. My hands connected with his hair, damp with sweat. My
tongue flicked across his lips, felt wetness. My cock grinded into his
bulge. My tongue slipped between his lips. My fingers ran through his dark
curls. My tongue felt open mouth, teeth. I grabbed a handful of hair. My
tongue felt another tongue for the first time. A whimper escaped my
throat. Another tongue encircled mine. Lips pressed into mine. A hand was
suddenly on my ass. I moaned into his mouth. Lips smacked, tongues
slurped. Fingers twisted in hair. Fingers dug into tight flesh. Breath was
short. Mouths were hungry. Fingers dug between cheeks. A manly groan. A
boyish whimper. A finger in a hole. A wet mouth. A dripping cock. A hungry
asshole. A tongue digs into a mouth. A finger digs into an ass. A wedding
ring bumps against an ass ring.

"Fuck!"

All too soon the fresh air rushed in. I stumbled forward, still weak in the
knees. My mouth and ass were suddenly empty.

"I'll shower upstairs."

Sal snatched a towel and stalked out of the room. He didn't stop or look
back.

...But he kissed back.

He kissed back.

It was my first real, actual kiss. And it was with Sal.

That's what I kept thinking as I jerked myself off again, right into the
same condom: he kissed back. My two loads squished between skin and
latex. He kissed back. I allowed my breathing to settle as I listened to
the faint sounds of the shower running upstairs. Was Sal jerking himself
off, too, as he stood beneath the hot water? Was he thinking of our kiss? I
resisted the urge to find out and crept up to my attic bedroom, load-filled
condom still hugging my rigid dick.

I shot into it once more before I carefully tied it off and added it to my
treasure trove of mementos, right alongside my other prize: Sal's condom,
sloshing with stepdad sperm, freshly fished from the trash.

* * *

Two months later, after another period of awkward avoidance from Sal, we
stood together in the driveway admiring his brand new fishing boat.

"I thought it'd be bigger," I said after a moment.

"Big enough to get the job done."

I glanced at him. Were we still talking about the boat? Sal looked away,
cleared his throat. His beaming smile returned.

"Can't wait to take this baby out," he said dreamily as he ran a loving
hand along the stern.

Mom emerged from the porch carrying a champagne bottle and two glasses. "I
still don't see why we have to do this," she grumbled.

"It's tradition, honey babe!" Sal said brightly. He accepted a glass and
took a big swig. "Okay, now stand back!"

Mom handed Sal the champagne bottle and ushered me away from the boat. She
nervously sipped from her flute as Sal approached the bow with a wide grin.
"I hereby christen this fine vessel... Sal's Love Boat!"

Sal swung the bottle of champagne. It shattered with a pop against the bow
of the boat, spraying shards and bubbles all over the driveway and Sal. Mom
yelped; I flinched. Sal laughed his ass off. I don't think I'd ever seen
him this happy.

Mom rushed to fuss over him. "Careful! Watch out for the glass! What a
waste of good champagne."

Sal laughed and grabbed her in his furry, champagne-soaked arms. "It's good
luck! You don't want me to sink out on the lake, do you?"

Sal attacked Mom with tickles. Her peals of laughter rang out down the
street. I chuckled under my breath. I wasn't even all that jealous... I was
just happy for Sal. This was a good day.

Mom fought him off and gulped down the last of her champagne. "Well, now
that you finally have your Love Boat, maybe you and Chase can get some
quality father-son time."

Sal's laughter slowed. He locked eyes with me. Then he smiled and looked
back at the boat. "Sure," he said. "How about it, bud?"

My smile couldn't be wider. "Sounds good." Then, because I couldn't resist:
"I'll take a ride on your Love Boat."

Mom clucked her approval and patted my shoulder. Sal cleared his throat.

"Well, this weekend is clear on the calendar," Mom chirped. "Might as well
get out on the lake before the weather turns."

Sal nodded distractedly, his attention back on the boat. Mom sauntered back
into the house, satisfied. I could have kissed her feet at that moment.

I glanced back at Sal, still admiring his new baby. Then a familiar sight
caught my eye: a bubbling string of white, sliding heavily down the bow of
the boat. The drips of champagne almost looked like cum... Sal's cum, thick
with sperm. My cock throbbed at the memory.

And that's when it all came to me... the entire plan, like a flash of
lightning. It was like divine (or perhaps devilish) intervention, as if
everything that had happened between us had been leading up to this very
moment.

Sal sensed he was being watched. He turned to me, gave me a nod and wink,
and went back to fiddling with the boat.

I smiled. Oh, if he only knew what was coming. If I managed to pull this
one off, it would be my greatest conquest yet... and nothing would ever be
the same again.

Operation: Real Dad.

* * *

To be concluded.