He was also a tease.

It became usual for Andrew to go and get his shower and then come out into the lounge wearing only the towel he used to dry off with, proceeding to do so in full view of anyone present before getting into his pajamas ready for bed. I had never really taken any notice of this until after Andrew grew hair on his nuts. As he got older Andrew became more and more attractive. Obviously the young man next door was quite interested too – I had noticed him watching my son getting changed from time to time. He had binoculars that he used to peer at him from across the way!

But the thought of someone else watching my son prancing around naked didn’t make me angry. In fact it turned me on like you wouldn’t believe.

I have always been aware of my attraction to younger men but I had desperately been trying to avoid having those feelings for my own son. Unfortunately, the prettier he became, the more my resistance crumbled and I was now fully aware that I had to do something - the frustration of watching my eighteen year old beauty parading naked in front of me nightly was getting to me.

I was married, so you’d think that having a spouse would act as a sort of safety valve for my libidinous thoughts and so on. Not so.

You have to understand that Gold Bluff is a small town in the mountains of Southern California. The folks here are very cliquish. My wife is one of those women who after they get married get less and less interested in sex. The only times she gets interested is when she gets the wild hair to get pregnant. At such times she all but makes you perform on command.

She was 35 years old when she began to have pelvic pain. She had examinations and ultrasounds and was eventually informed that she had something called “adhesive disease” and that she would have to get a hysterectomy. After hearing this news a year ago, sex has been almost nonexistent. Since that day I had been forced to masturbate more and more.

Last week she went out of town to visit her mother. And on the very night that she left I found myself lying in bed and decided that since no one was around I would play with myself. Our bedroom is upstairs and away from anyone just walking in on you so I didn’t have the door shut. As I was lying there I was dreaming about my stepson and what he could do to please me.

And I was dutifully jerking myself to heaven when the REAL Andrew strolled into my bedroom. The fact that he knew every sin that had gone on in my head was clearly etched into his face He sat down beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. We sat like that for a long time. Not saying anything.

Eventually he moved his hand to my crotch. And my body actually responded to his touch . . . even at a time like that! He stood up and pulled off his headband.

Bewildered and suddenly very warm, I stared at him. He only looked at me longingly, then pulled me to my feet. "I know what you're thinking."

"You do?" I asked.

He nodded slowly. "I know what you want. I’ve always known. And now I thought that while mom’s away I’d give it to you.”

I nodded. That's precisely what I was thinking. Even if I had lied he would not have believed me. No matter what words came out of my mouth, Andrew could always hear my heart. But I was afraid. This reality was far greater than even my masturbatory dream!

"Don’t be troubled Daddy." he said. After stepping out of his shoes, he leaned over to lick the tip of his tongue across my lips. "I’ve wanted this as much as you . . . and probably longer."

"Somehow I doubt that." I said as I skimmed the blue jersey he had been wearing over his head. I reached for the button fly of his jeans. I pushed the jeans over his hips. When he was down to nothing but a pair of powder blue panties, I let my tongue tease its way into his mouth. My hands slid from his waist, then up to rub his chest. He whimpered as I swiveled my chest against his man-nips.

He whimpered even more ardently when I used my palms to gently circle these hard, beautiful peaks. With sweeping strokes of my tongue I licked from the base of his rib cage to the underside of the swollen, satiny flesh, then over and around each brown mound. I took one salty-sweet nipple into my mouth and kneaded the other with my left hand. As I suckled, I thrust my pelvis against the meeting of his thighs.

After sliding off Andrew’s briefs, I put two fingers in my mouth to wet them . . . then proceeded to use these same fingers to ardently fiddle with the tool that I still dreamed about even after two years of marriage.

"Awesome." my responsive young stepson sighed once my fingers twisted his manhood this way and that way, but not enough to injure him. After jiggling it around a bit, I removed the fingers from the piece and returned them to my mouth. Excellent.

When I stood back he leaned back on the bed and began teasing me with his feet--lightly rubbing the top of his foot over the bulge in my pants. Eventually I seized the other foot and began to lick the sole wildly. I sucked his toes, moving my tongue between them and getting the sweet taste of each toe. I licked under Andrew’s toes, inserting my tongue between the undersides of them. He giggled softly, indicating the sensitive spots. My tongue darted wildly around the bottoms of his toes, savoring the slightly salty taste. Then I shifted to his graceful arch and he giggled. His feet were so soft and smooth. I kissed the tips of his toes, sucking each one individually. He uttered a barely audible moan in appreciation of my ministrations.

Placing all five toes into my mouth, I slid my tongue over, under, and between them, sucking them fervently. "Ohhhhhhh . . . " he said.

My cock was rock hard and bulging tightly in my pants. To get a little more comfortable I freed it from my pants and sat on the end of the bed. As I put his feet in my lap--and continuing to tend to them with my lips and tongue—Andrew looked down at my throbbing tool, smiling with satisfaction. I sensuously massaged and licked his feet, he started rubbing his own crotch.

As I lifted one foot to my lips to suck his toes, his other foot was in my lap and was dutifully teasing my throbbing cock. My son rubbed his sole slowly back and forth over the sensitive tip, sending chills through my genitals as I passionately made oral love to his other foot. He ran his foot back and forth over the underside of my dick and teased the glans and head with his toes. From the way his toes slipped over my cock head, I could tell they had become wet with my pre-cum fluids. Curious about that, I lifted his foot from my lap and sucked his cute, wet toes . . . tasting the slightly salty juices that had dribbled from my engorged penis.

"Ooooooohhhhhhhh!" he said sensuously as he watched me suck my pre-cum from his golden digits.

My eighteen-year-old stepson laughed and screamed as if the tickling were capable of reaching his very soul. I reached the point where I got Andrew pleading, tears in his dark eyes, for just a momentary break in tickling torture. But instead of giving him even some temporary relief I attacked his feet with twice as much vigor as I had before. Andrew grew frantic. I looked down at my son’s beautiful bucking body, growing a little weak with pleasure at the sight of Andrew’s jerking and spasm-wracked form. He’d nearly fainted!

And before he knew it, I was licking the sculptured digits again, running my tongue over the tops and under the fleshy bottoms of Andrew’s toes--wedging it between them. Having given in to my impulse, I decided to go all the way. So for the next fifteen minutes I licked, sucked, and savored my semi-conscious stepson’s toes. When Andrew began to get most of his senses back I reached my hand towards each his bare feet and began to gently caress the soles, gliding my fingers very lightly up and down, up and down. Andrew bucked, yanking frantically at the ropes that kept his wrists and ankles bound. He scrunched his dark eyes shut, whipping his head from side to side, burying his face into his stretched biceps, trying with all his might to find SOME way to cope with the terrible tickling sensations on the soles of his feet. "Stop! Stooooooooooop it!"

Andrew and I fully proffered our bodies to each other at that moment. As we climbed beneath the sheets, we touched one another. He felt the swell of my arousal beneath the sheets while I went back to caressing his chest. Our hands shook as we did these things. I returned my lips to his chest, nuzzling and sucking once again with a hot fervor and apparently driving the eighteen-year-old mad with pleasure. I took a stiffened nipple between my teeth and tugged at it while lapping at it's cinnamon brown edges with my tongue. When he bent over, I slipped into his back field with one fluid stroke.

We both trembled and quaked with longing. Our hands moved all over each other's bodies, creating sparks of electricity whenever they made contact. Andrew made me burn like the core of a raging volcano, and I wouldn't have been surprised if the bed we were on was consumed by the literal flames of our passion. I felt like molten lava, flowing in patterns that were governed by his touch.

And as our excitement reached the most exquisite level of ecstasy, I found myself stammering out his name and being answered with a scream of my own. I wanted to keep going, but he was too far gone. I could feel his muscles tighten as he exploded. His legs were wrapped so tightly around me and he moaned loudly. The bed was banging against the wall as we climaxed together and fell into a heap together. I start to kiss him, but he pulls himself off me.

I was still hot for him and stared up into those perfect blue eyes. He smiled and kissed me playfully on the nose. I was eager for thing to keep going but could see that he was done for the evening. He grinned and said, "Did you think I’d keep going once I got mine? You’re naïve as well as a depraved pervert, Jonah."

I felt humiliated by my desperate state, and by the fact that my stepson’s sexual feelings for me were far shallow than mine towards his. I already knew that there must have been something really wrong with me. But having my son treat my like a fool instead of a co-conspirator sparked another of my character flaws. Rage.

When it came to anger I can remember doing all that I could to resist giving in to it. While I was able to pull this off many times, there were also times when I could not avoid the inevitable. This was such a time.

“I’m heading over to McDonald’s for a Big Mac and fries,” Andrew said, methodically re-dressing himself. “You want anything?”
Instead of answering him question, I struck him.

The VERY confused and disoriented Andrew scrambled to his feet, preparing to lunge out the door and escape. But before he got there, something whizzed by his blonde head before a second object hit the back of his neck with violent force and he collapsed, the world most-likely growing fuzzy and distant with the subsequent pain.

I pitched for the minors for St. Louis and Baltimore when I was twenty-two, finishing 5-2 with a 4.18 ERA. The arena where I learned how to pitch had about three rows of wooden bleachers and a backstop--that's it. Still it was the place that had honed my pitching skills. The place that gave me the ability to hurl a heavy boot across a room and strike my intended targets. In this case, the target was my eighteen year-old stepson’s golden-blonde head.
To be continued…