Chapter 2
I(21 years old) couldn't shake the nervous excitement as I walked into the local porn shop. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing the anticipation that surged through me. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the faint musk of sex, a heady combination that made my cock twitch in my jeans. I was here to pick up a few essentials: a new cock ring and an edging toy, both of which were supposed to add a little spice to my solo sessions.
As I approached the counter, my eyes darted around the shop, taking in the rows of DVDs, magazines, and the various toys neatly displayed on shelves. The cashier, a man of about thirty with a friendly smile, greeted me as I placed my items on the counter.
"Find everything you need today?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Yeah, just these," I replied, feeling my cheeks flush slightly.
He rang up the items quickly, and just as I reached for my wallet, he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Hey, we've got a special deal going on in the adult theater if you're interested. You can test out your new toys."
My breath caught in my throat. The adult theater? I'd heard rumors about it, stories of what went on inside, but I'd never actually been. "Sure," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I mean... why not?"
He handed me a small ticket and a knowing smile. "Enjoy yourself," he said, nudging the ticket towards me.
With a quick nod, I grabbed my bag and made my way towards the back of the shop, where a heavy curtain marked the entrance to the theater. Taking a deep breath, I pulled it aside and stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the large screen at the front where straight porn played loudly. A few older man sat on opposite sides of the room eagerly stroking their cocks barely notice me walk by. To my left, there was a narrow hall leading to private booths. The sound of men moaning and grunting filled the air, adding to the already charged atmosphere. I hesitated for a moment, my heart racing, before I decided to explore further.
The hallway was lined with doors, each one slightly ajar, revealing flickering screens and shadowy figures hunched over their cocks. I could hear the wet sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by soft moans and gasps. It was intoxicating, and I felt my own cock hardening in my pants.
Finding an empty booth, I slipped inside and closed the door behind me. The seat was worn and sticky, but I didn't care. I settled down and turned my attention to the screen. Straight porn wasn't really my thing, so I flipped through the channels until I found something more to my liking—an older, fit man aggressively fucking a young, slender twink. The action was raw and intense, exactly what I needed to get off.
I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock, already erect and throbbing. Slowly, I began to stroke myself, matching the rhythm of the scene on the screen. The room was thick with the sounds of other men pleasuring themselves, and it added to the surreal, almost dreamlike quality of the experience.
A few minutes in, I noticed something unusual—a small hole carved into the side of the wall next to me. Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned closer, squinting to see what was on the other side. It was hard to make out anything clearly, but I could see movement—a hand gripping a thick, impressive cock, stroking it slowly.
The sight made my own cock pulse in my hand, and I let out a soft moan, too engrossed in the scene to care who might hear me. But then, the figure on the other side of the wall seemed to notice the glory hole. He stood up, moving closer, and I could hear the rustle of fabric as he positioned himself.
Seconds later, I felt the tip of a cock press against the hole. It was massive, engorged, and hot against my fingers as it pushed through. I gasped, pulling back slightly, but the cock followed, its owner clearly eager to claim the space.
Inch by inch, the cock slid through, revealing itself in all its glory. It was easily eight inches long, thick and veiny, with a slight upward curve that gave it a menacing look. The balls hanging beneath it were heavy and low, and full, one slightly higher than the other, nestled in a neatly trimmed bush.
I couldn't help but stare, my own cock twitching with excitement. The stranger adjusted his position, ensuring his cock and balls were fully exposed through the hole. Then, without warning, he began to thrust, his cock pushing through the hole and into my hand.
"Fuck," I whispered, wrapping my fingers around the shaft. It was broader than I expected, and I had to adjust my grip to accommodate its girth. His cock pulsed in my hand, and I could feel the heat radiating from it, the veins standing out as I began to stroke him in time with my own movements.
"Oh yeah," I heard him groan from the other side, his voice deep and gravelly. "Keep doing that."
Encouraged, I picked up the pace, my hand sliding up and down his shaft with increasing urgency. I could feel the precum leaking from the tip, coating my hand and making my strokes slick and smooth. The sensation was intoxicating, and I found myself leaning closer, wanting more contact.
I shifted in my seat, positioning myself so that I could take the tip of his cock into my mouth. My lips parted, and I wrapped them around the bulbous head, tasting the salty pre-cum that dribbled from the slit. The taste was intoxicating, a mixture of salt and musk that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Oh fuck," he groaned again, his hips bucking slightly as I took more of his cock into my mouth. I could feel his length pressing against the back of my throat, and I gagged slightly, but I didn't pull back. Instead, I used my tongue to tease the underside of his shaft, swirling it around the sensitive spot just below the head.
His hand appeared on the other side of the hole, gripping the edge of the partition as he thrust into my mouth. I tightened my grip on his cock, using my hand to stroke the base while my mouth worked the rest. The combined sensations must have been too much for him, because within moments, I felt his cock begin to throb in my mouth.
I begin stroking my cock. All the excitement and the exhilaration of not knowing who was on the other side made me bust quickly. Ropes of cum fling from my cock and hit the wall. "Oh shit, fuck" I try to moan but its stifled by his cock.
"Here it comes," he muttered, his voice strained. "Swallow it all."
And with those words, he came, his cock pulsing as wave after wave of hot cum flooded my mouth. I swallowed reflexively, the taste rich and tangy, milky and thick. It coated my tongue, filling my mouth with its potent flavor. I continued to swallow, each gulp accompanied by another spurt of cum from his cock, until finally, he was spent, his cock softening and slipping from my grasp.
I hear him growl then laughs. "Fuck that was good. You're a good little cock sucker who ever you are."
I licked my lips, savoring the last traces of his seed, before sitting back and catching my breath. The entire encounter had been exhilarating, and as I looked around the dimly lit booth, I couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline.
I exited the theater and make my way towards the exit. When i reach the door i turn to look at the entrance to the theater. I'm defiantly going to be fantasizing about this later tonight. And that's when I saw him—John(45 years old), my Step-dad—stepping out of the theater as well. My heart sank, and I froze in place, panic setting in.
He's looking down trying to adjusted his package. You could se the huge print of his cock perfectly outlined in his jeans. in shock but and distracted, I tripped over my own feet, nearly knocking over a display of dildos. John looked over, his brows furrowing in concern, but I didn't wait to see if he recognized me.
Instead, I ducked down, avoiding his gaze, and bolted for the exit, my heart pounding in my chest.
Chapter 2
The drive home was a blur of confusion and excitement. The events at the adult theater replayed in my mind on an endless loop. My thoughts oscillated between disbelief and curiosity. Was my Step-dad really gay? He never showed any signs before, but then again, who could blame him for keeping it hidden? The thought of confronting him with the truth gnawed at me, but I knew I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not after what just happened.
I pulled into the driveway and walked inside, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of uncertainty. I needed to focus on something else, anything else. My history paper awaited me, a task that normally would be mundane but now felt like a lifeline. I grabbed my laptop and started working, losing myself in the historical dates and theories. But every now and then, my mind would drift back to the adult theater and the man behind the glory hole.
Hours passed, and the house remained quiet until I heard the familiar knock on my door. Step-dad stuck his head in, his face a mask of weary fatherly concern.
"Hey, Chris, how was your day?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Uneventful," I replied, forcing a smile. "Just another college day."
"Good, good," he said, nodding. "I just ran some errands and grabbed some lunch. I'll start cooking dinner soon."
With that, he left my room, heading downstairs. I watched him go, my heart racing as I thought about the possibility that I had just sucked him off earlier today. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. But I shoved it aside, focusing on my work once more.
Later, as dusk settled outside, Step-dad called up from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"
I took my time getting down there, hoping the tension in my chest would ease. Dinner was silent, save for the clinking of cutlery against plates. We ate quickly, and soon enough, Step-dad excused himself, saying he needed a shower. He headed upstairs, and I heard the water turn on almost immediately.
That's when my curiosity got the better of me. I waited a few minutes, giving him time to get fully immersed in his routine, and then crept up the stairs. My heart pounded in my chest as I approached his bathroom door. It was cracked open, steam billowing out like a fog. I peered through the gap, my breath catching in my throat.
Step-dad stood under the showerhead, the water cascading over his muscular frame. His body was a testament to years of hard work, his muscles defined but not overly so. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a thick chest and he was covered in a light dusting of hair. His abs rippled beneath the water, each dip and curve accentuated by the steam that clung to his skin.
He lathered soap onto his hands, washing his arms and chest, the muscles flexing with each movement. His cock hung heavy between his legs, already half-hard. As he washed himself, his hand gravitated towards his crotch, stroking along the shaft. His balls hung low, swaying gently with each motion.
I couldn't tear my eyes away. My own cock swelled in my pants, reacting to the sight before me. I reached down, unzipping my fly and freeing my erection. It twitched in my hand as I began to stroke myself in rhythm with Step-dad's actions.
Step-dad's movements became faster, more deliberate. He picked up a waterproof flashlight from the floor of the shower and positioned it against the wall, using suction cups to hold it in place. Then, with a grunt, he pressed his cock against the cool tip. His hips thrust forward, driving his dick deeper into the makeshift fuck toy.
"Oh yeah," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You like that? You like Step-daddy's fat cock? You want me to breed your faggot pussy?"
My breath hitched. Hearing him talk like that, even though knowing it wasn't directed at me, sent a jolt of arousal through me. I quickened my pace, matching his thrusts with my strokes.
Inside the shower, Step-dad let out a final, shuddering groan as he climaxed. His cock pulsed, shooting streams of cum against the flashlight.
"Chris," he moaned, his voice breaking. "Oh, Chris..."
That was it. Hearing my name on his lips was too much. I came hard, spurting my load onto the carpet outside the bathroom door. My knees buckled, and I leaned against the wall for support, gasping for air.
He slumped against the wall, panting heavily, his chest heaving with exertion.
I stayed there, watching him catch his breath, my own heart still racing. What just happened? Did he know it was me? The thought consumed me, drowning out everything else.
Chapter 3
A few nights later, I found myself sitting on the living room couch, trying to focus on the family movie night. The TV glowed with the warm light of a feel-good comedy, but my mind kept drifting back to that adult theater and the mystery of John's presence there. I was determined to act normal, though my heart pounded in my chest every time he walked into the room.
John settled down beside me, his usual casual clothes—a plaid button-up shirt and khaki pants—making him look like the picture-perfect Step-dad. He handed me a bowl of popcorn, his eyes twinkling with that familiar warmth. "Ready for some laughs?" he asked, his voice as soothing as ever.
"Yeah, sure," I replied, forcing a smile. We started watching the movie, the sound of laughter filling the room. But within minutes, my thoughts wandered again, and I felt my cock stiffening. The memory of that glory hole, the taste of John's cum, it all came flooding back, making it hard to concentrate on the screen.
A few scenes later the 2 main characters have a spontaneous sex scene. Its rough and passionate and i can see we both get a little excited.
I shifted uncomfortably, hoping he didn't noticed. But then, I glanced over at John, and our eyes met. His gaze lingered a moment too long, and for a split second, I thought he might say something. Instead, he casually leaned back, his hand brushing against mine. "Feel free to relax, Chris," he said softly, almost as if he knew exactly what was on my mind.
My breath hitched. Did he really mean...? No, couldn't be. But the way he said it, so nonchalant yet loaded with hidden meaning, sent a shiver down my spine. I let my hand slide slightly, grazing his fingers, an innocent touch that somehow felt electrifying.
The movie continued, but the tension between us grew thicker. Finally, unable to take it any longer, I made a decision. I subtly adjusted myself, letting my cock poke out from the waistband of my shorts. It wasn't hard to notice now; it was pressing firmly against the fabric, a clear indication of my arousal.
John's eyes flicked down, just for a moment, before returning to the screen. "No need to be embarrassed," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "We all have... urges."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I swallowed hard, my heart racing. Slowly, I reached down, pulling my cock free from my shorts. The cool air hit my skin, and I heard a soft gasp from John.
He turned to me, his eyes dark with desire. "Looks like you're quite impressive," he said, his tone admiring. "Not as big as mine, but still..."
Heat flooded my cheeks, but I didn't stop. I began to stroke myself, feeling the familiar pressure build. John did the same, his larger cock emerging from his pants, thick and throbbing. The magnetic pull between us was undeniable.
Our hands moved in sync, jacking off side by side, our gazes locked. "Have you ever heard of edging?" John asked suddenly, his voice husky.
"No," I admitted, my breath coming faster.
"It's about controlling yourself, bringing yourself close to orgasm, then stopping just before you come. You repeat this several times until you can't hold back anymore." His hand slowed, teasing the head of his cock. "It makes the orgasm so much more intense."
I nodded, trying to follow his lead. My strokes became slower, more deliberate, as I fought the urge to climax. Each time I felt myself nearing the edge, I stopped, holding onto the incredible tension building inside me.
We edged together, five times, each pause prolonging the exquisite torture. John's breathing grew ragged, and I could see the strain in his eyes. "Okay, now we get to come," he finally whispered, his voice strained.
With a final, desperate stroke, we both erupted. Cum sprayed from my cock, splattering onto my stomach and chest. John's release was equally powerful, his load shooting across the room, landing on the carpet with a wet thud.
We sat there, panting, the smell of sex heavy in the air. When I finally caught my breath, I looked at him, courage surging through me. "Was it you at the theater?" I asked, my voice trembling. "The glory hole?"
John's eyes widened, then softened. "Yes," he admitted quietly. "I thought I saw you, but I wasn't sure."
We stared at each other, the unspoken taboo hanging between us. Then, he spoke again, his voice steady. "We can have sessions together, but we should never touch each other. I have lots of toys to share with you."
Relief washed over me, mingled with a strange sense of excitement. "What kind of toys?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Flesh lights, auto strokers, cock massagers," he listed, his eyes gleaming. "Even fake asses and double-sided dildos."
My cock twitched at the thought, and I nodded, unable to speak.
"We'll figure it out," John said, his voice reassuring. "But for now, let's clean up. We have a busy morning"
