movie-night-with-my-plumber-step-dad

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Subject: Movie Night with my Plumber Step Dad We’re a family of few traditions, but one we’ve built up in the last few weeks is Sunday movie night. It was never planned, just started by chance. My mom decided to fix us some popcorn and hot chocolate one Sunday night as we � mom, step dad, and me � found ourselves on the couch watching the latest Star Wars flick. And for every Sunday night since, we’ve gotten into the habit of choosing a flick and watching it together. Maybe it’s the wintery months limiting the choice of activity. And with school the next day, my parents never allowed me to see friends or stay up late on Sunday. Both dad � although my step dad, I call him dad since he’s been with us since I was 2 � and mom had work early in the mornings, so we were all usually out of the house by 8am. Sunday nights were thus time for the family to get comfy and wind down the weekend. We even had our regular seated corners, with mom hogging the recliner couch. “I’m the lady of the house, I get the recliner,” she declared when we sat down for the first movie night. It’s been hers ever since. That left dad and I to find our comfy nooks on the three-seated sofa. We both resented not being able to lie down completely, and crouched ourselves at either end. Our arms leaned on the sofa ends, while our legs and feet fought for space in the middle of the sofa. “Get out of the way,” I jested that first night, kicking dad’s legs out of the way so I can claim more sofa territory. “Bugger off,” he replied, resulting in a couch war with our legs before mom interceded. “Enough you two, there’s plenty of space for both of you to be comfortable.” And so we scrunched ourselves in each corner � me on my side, dad on his, and mom not far from his side in the recliner � each of us covered in our own blankets, thankfully, providing essential warmth on top of the sweat pants and socks. Dad’s build is typical of a mid-40s plumber. Proportionate, 5’9, broad shoulders, meaty legs, with the first signs of crown balding settling in. I had hit that stage of puberty at 12 that meant I was almost as tall as him, just with the more slender frame of a teenager. Being a plumber meant dad was jovial yet vulgar, with basically zero etiquette. He loved mucking around and pranks. That meant the occasional kick in the leg while watching Star Wars. “Will you stop it?” I snapped back after the third kick, while he mockingly laughed, amusing mom in the process. And just as we arrived at a tense point in the movie, dad sneakily pulled his blanket off, lifted his right leg, and let out a loud fart in my direction. “Hahahaha.” Dad was clearly impressed with himself, mom and I were disgusted. “You’re a dickhead!” she yelled. “Get out of here and go to the toilet!” I added. He just sat and laughed. “You’re lucky I can’t smell anything,” mom said, returning her focus back to the movie. “He can though,” he said, still smirking at me, goading for a response. I kept my gaze forward on the TV, and following my mother’s example, tried to ignore his antics. By ignoring, he’ll move on. But I wasn’t just ignoring … I found myself oddly unperturbed by his smell, and in a way, kinda turned on by his pugnacious, plumber masculinity. I’m still unsure of my sexuality, still trying to understand the new urges that have come with puberty. I started masturbating a year ago, and my fantasies have included more men than women. But I never gave off any hints in this patriarchal, traditional household. Dad’s a plumber, mom works in retail. Even if I think I’m gaining more intellectual depth than them � I actually enjoyed school and learning in a Lisa Simpson-nerdy way � I know they’d never understand. And truth be told, I wasn’t sure of it myself, and the weirdest things would elicit arousal. In this case, there was something about my plumber dad farting in my direction that turned me on, I couldn’t explain it. “I think he likes it,” my dad kept teasing, his smirking eyes still locked on me trying to get me to respond. Mom’s ears had switched off to her husband by then, ensconced in the movie. Beyond the mocking, I think dad sensed my arousal as I comfortably breathed in his manly ass smell. I turned to dad and gave him a discreet smirk, approving of his remark. His smirk turned into a devious grin. I wasn’t sure if he thought I was mucking around, boys being disgusting boys, or if he was turned on by someone liking his farts. I don’t think he knew either. He kept his top leg at a 30 degree bend, which meant his butt was still facing my direction. As if to confirm his own suspicions, he let out another, more discreet fart while still looking at me grinning. It made the slightest of sounds. My mom didn’t hear it, but I did. I waited for the pungent odour to hit my nostrils before inhaling deeply with my nose, showing him that I enjoyed his foul smell. He looked pleasantly surprised � his grin turning to a lustful sneer and a wink. He got the confirmation that I was into his farts, and I guess he was impressed? I mean I knew he was a filthy dude, I’ve lived with him my whole life and plumbers aren’t exactly neat. He pulled the blanket back over him, and some time had passed. I was deep into the movie, so was mom, and I thought my dad too. After a while, I quietly edged a bit more territory on the couch, stretching my feet out to the halfway point on the sofa, still under my blanket. I was pretty comfortable until I felt my dad’s toes, also under his blanket, bump into mine. It wasn’t the usual kick to get me out the way, he just placed his toes where mine were. I didn’t really think anything of it, I was too busy watching the movie and he’s my step dad after all, what’s a bit of harmless family contact? But then he started to slowly wiggle his toes, brushing mine in the process. I didn’t turn to look, I kept focusing on the movie and pretending I wasn’t paying attention. But under my blanket, I felt my cock get rock hard. I kept my feet stiffly still to make sure it wasn’t just accidental. It wasn’t. Dad kept flexing his toes and brushing mine for 10 minutes straight. Was dad playing footsies with me? I had to triple check. Still looking at the TV, seemingly oblivious to all around me, I started flexing my toes to see what he’d do. It must’ve been the confirmation he’d been waiting for, as he took it as an invitation to extend his feet until they were completely covering mine � blankets still meshed between our feet. For the rest of the movie, we just laid there, foot on top of foot, mostly still with the occasional flex that was cushioned by the heavy blankets. I still wasn’t sure if he was playing footsies, or just innocently resting with the step son he raised. “Alright, I’m off to bed, come on guys, we’ve all got early starts tomorrow,” mom said, announcing the end of the night after the movie finished. She was the first to walk off to the bedroom, and dad jumped up off the couch before me. But before I could get up, he quickly jumped to my end, sat on my face, held my head to his butt, and let out a long, loud fart. My nose was right up in his hole, I could feel the heat through his sweat pants, his gas filling up my nose. He sat there for a few seconds after the fart to make sure I had no choice but to inhale it. “Smell that you little shit.” I inhaled it in without complaint. “Good night!” He laughed, jumping off and walking to the bedroom after my mother before I could respond. I laid still, in disbelief at what had just transpired. Was that just dad being dad, mucking around in his disgusting plumber way? Or was it subtle flirtation? Did he play footises with me? Or just unwittingly rest his foot on mine? It wasn’t the first time dad “touched” me. He was pretty hands-on – scratched my back a lot as a kid, tickle fights, wet willies. But that was him, a playful dad. I guess a bit of foot touch was nothing. Either way, I was turned on. I lifted the blanket to reveal a 6″ thick boner � still growing at this age – sticking out through the opening of my sweat pants. I couldn’t wait till I got to bed, I needed release then and there. I jerked off thinking of my dad’s stinking ass, the smell of his fart still in my nose. I shot the biggest load of my 12yo life, over my bare chest. Yep, I think I’m gay. ****** Much of the week went by as the weeks before it. We actually rarely interacted as a family during the week. The folks worked, then did their thing after work � mom with her girlfriends or Yoga class. Dad with his drinking buddies. Me with my school mates or at soccer practise. I liked that our family managed to have pretty independent lives, but kurtköy escort not so independent we’d be distant from one another. We’re a warm, happy family, one whose love is expressed through jokes and pranks, not cheesy gestures like flowers or gifts. I guess that’s why we started enjoying Sunday movie night, it was really the only time we’d spend together. I hadn’t really thought about the last Sunday. Actually, I’m lying. I jerked off the next three nights thinking about it, extending the fantasy each time. But those fantasies were also accompanied by a soaring guilt. Dad gave the impression that nothing was unusual that week. Life went as always between us, so I guess I did think too much of it. Dad was just being his usual self � mucking around and being the affectionate, playful dad he’s always been. Maybe it’s me, now that I’m in puberty and experiencing these new urges, who’s reacting in a different way. I needed to control these urges and get these stupid, insane thoughts out of my head. I had all but convinced myself not to think salaciously about my step dad. It was wrong. And it’d be wrong of him � a man in his 40s thinking sexually of a kid. It’s all just wrong. What the fuck was I thinking? The second Sunday came around, and I was lucky to get to the couch before dad so I could claim my territory. “Lucky boy, but that’s not going to stop your dad.” Mom said as she walked in, handing me a bowl of popcorn before positioning herself on the couch. “What do you want to watch?” she asked me. “X-men!” dad roared before I could reply, barging in with a bowl of popcorn of his own, wearing his typical grey sweat pants � who knows when he last washed them. As mom scrolled through the streaming apps to find X-men, dad decided to mark his territory on the couch � this time by lying completely down, abruptly extending his legs straight, pushing my chest back, his black socked feet only inches touching my chin as I rested my head on the sofa arm. “Hey!” I yelled. “Yeah, you wanna try hog the couch? I don’t think so buddy!” he declared. “I told you,” mom said, laughing. “I’m gonna lie like this for the whole movie,” he said. “Fine! Enjoy my feet kicking you in the back,” I said, extending my own legs behind him. We were now almost head-to-toe, both of us facing the TV, which meant his feet were resting on my chest, toes touching my chin, and my feet on the back of his neck. “You can stay there, but if you kick my neck, I’ll kick your face,” he semi-seriously joked. “Can you at least fix the blankets?” He got up and threw my blanket on the floor, and threw his over the both of us. That meant our bodies were directly touching, save for the clothes separating our skin. “My butt will warm you up, we don’t need two blankets,” he said, with a teasing hint in his voice. “Don’t you dare fart on me,” I warned. Mom laughed, “I don’t think he can control it.” “Yeah, eating popcorn buddy, expect a few coming your way,” he laughed. I just eye-rolled and turned to the TV, but secretly hoped he’d let them rip. I hope my fa�ade at disliking our awkward couch arrangement was convincing � to be honest, I was loving every moment of this. My step dad’s whole body pressed against mine. Even if we had clothes on, and our crotches weren’t perfectly aligned � his butt landed just below my balls, so there’d be no incidental cock rubbing on his butt � I couldn’t ask for a better setup for the next 2.5 hours. I had an instant boner, and tried my best to make sure not to hump my dad’s leg. Dad pressing his legs on my chest meant I had no choice but to place my arm over his legs, essentially making me hold his feet. “Oi, shit face, massage my feet while I’m watching the movie,” he commanded, extending his socked feet to my face, wiggling his toes on my nose. “Eew, no way! They stink, haven’t you showered today?” “Nah course not, I’ve been working in the shed all day. Haha lap it up!” He joked, rubbing his stinking socked feet all over my face. “Stop it!” “I’ll stop when you agree to rub my feet.” “Will you two settle down?” Mom interceded again, just wanting us to shut up so she can hear the movie. “Ok! Just get them out of my face!” “And you better shower before bed,” Mom turned to warn her husband. That detail didn’t escape her. He stopped rubbing his feet on my face, but because he extended, his feet were beyond the blanket, and his toes now just inches from my nose. It also meant my cock was now pressed into his upper hamstring. I just hope it doesn’t twitch, please God. I proceeded to massage his feet as bargained, prompting a moan from him. “Ahh yeah, that’s it. Keep doing that for the whole movie.” “The whole movie? What am I going to get out of it?” “Some nice hot farts on your balls.” Mom laughed out loud, her convenient response denying me the need to say anything. I quietly accepted that fate � not just accepted, relished it. “Take my socks off too, massage them properly.” I didn’t feign objection this time, obliging to take his socks off to reveal his meaty toes, neatly lined from big toe to pinky. It was clear he had sock lint and sweat between his toes, with some fluff on his feet that I brushed away before I started massaging. And so we settled in for movie night, lights out save from the glare from the television. Mom relaxed on her recliner, drawn into X-men. And dad’s stinky feet, inches from my face, getting massaged. My every inhale was filled with the scent of his feet. Like his farts last week, I was surprised to find myself turned on by my step dad’s pungent odours. It didn’t take me long to forget about the movie and just focus on the sight in front of me � sniffing in my dad’s foot stink without making it obvious. I massaged with purpose, carving into his fascia, his toes wiggling in delight each time I reached the ball of his foot. I glanced over to see his reaction. His eyelids closed for moments at a time. The massage was relaxing him, dad now oscillating between sleep and the movie. Maybe now, with him in his semi-conscious state, I can edge my nose a bit closer to get a stronger whiff of his plumber feet. The room was dark enough to obscure anything I do from my mom, with the blanket also shrouding me. I don’t know what it was, the smell of his feet, the feel of them under my hands, the total vulgarity of my plumber step dad, or all of it combined. Whatever it was, the urge was too powerful and overrode all logical senses. I closed my eyes and inched my nose to his right foot � just a little bit, without touching. Clumsily lost in my own senses, my nose accidentally skimmed and bounced into his big toe. The toes flexed away � “shit!,” I urgently thought. I dared not turn to face him just in case he may be provoked to embarrass me. I didn’t move either so as not to make it seem something weird was going on. I just stared in front of me, at those toes, now flexed away, revealing the lint and dirt between them, awaiting his next move. Slowly, the toes starting to curl back towards normal position, except they kept curling. They curled until his toes not only landed on my nose, but wrapped it. Dad’s stinky toes were now wrapped over my nose. Was this a sign? Maybe I wasn’t wrong about his intentions last week, after all. Now completely under the influence of pure lust, I grabbed his right foot, held it in position, and inhaled deeply. He now moved his left foot to meet his right, and wiggled and caressed my nose, making sure I got a good whiff of both of them. He placed his big and second toes at either side of my nostrils, and made me inhale the stink between the two toes. Then he placed his second and third toes into my nostrils, making me inhale the dirt wedged in his trimmed toenails. As I was in heaven, I noticed the toes edging closer and closer to my lips. Soon enough they were smack on my lips, almost pressing on them. Did he want me to open my mouth? I did to see his response � as soon as he felt my lips part, he stuck his toes in my mouth and start wiggling, seemingly in search of a tongue. I stuck it out, meeting his left big toe. I didn’t quite know what to expect of its taste. It tasted tangy, salty, sweaty. All I knew is that I didn’t mind it � in fact, I loved it. And my tongue was exactly what he was looking for. He caressed my tongue, inviting it to swirl around the big toe, to which I did without hesitation. I guided his feet with my hands to my mouth, and went to town � gently weaving my tongue in and out between his toes. He motioned almost in unison, as if inviting me to clean the dirt. The taste between his pinky and fourth toes was the aydıntepe escort strongest, no doubt where more of the sweat build up is. I took extra time making sure they were clean. This was it, this was the sign, dad was a dirty fucker and was turned on by guys (or girls, who knows?) into his smells. “Khhhhhh” Mom and I both winced at the sound, I pushed dad’s feet off my face. “Khhhhh” “Uh oh, he’s gone,” mom declared. Dad was snoring. Fuck � this wasn’t the sign at all. He’s just asleep! “Babe,” she called, before shaking him awake. “Jimmy!” “Hmm?” He jumped disoriented. “You fell asleep, do you want to go to bed?” “Did I? Yeah, maybe,” he replied, struggling to get up. “There you go, you lucky bastard, you get the couch to yourself.” I showed relief on my face, but deep down I was shattered � and frustrated, sexually. “Thanks for the massage, it did its magic. I’ll get you to do it again,” he said, ruffling my hair before walking to bed. Mom and I stayed to finish the movie. “Get him to pay you for those foot massages.” Great, now mom was making fun of me. “Why don’t you massage them? He’s your husband.” “No way! Not touching those stinky things,” which reminded her. “Oh hey! Jimmy!” she yelled, loud enough for him to hear it in the bedroom. “Shower first before you hop into bed or you can sleep in Brad’s bed!” Dad in my bed? My cock twitched again, but he ignored her. The sound of a closing bedroom door ending that discussion, and my fantasy for the night. ***** Three weeks in and I was still confused. I literally sucked on my dad’s feet while he was asleep. I’m going out of my mind. Is this what crazy teen horniness is? Isn’t it too early at 12? I had no idea what the fuck was going on with me, but I was crossing way too many boundaries. And what was I into? My step dad’s farts and stinky feet? Is that even a sexuality? If my dad ever found out what was going on in my mind, or what I did, I’d probably be booted out � given a black eye, then booted out. And yet, I couldn’t wait till Sunday movie night. In fact, I made sure it happened. My urges dictated their own scenarios, and made sure all opportunities to execute them were maximised. That meant getting on that couch with my dad again. My brain was saying the exact opposite � stop being a horny little dick or you’ll get yourself a belting or worse. The third Sunday movie night arrived, and dad still wanted to continue with the X-men movies. Mom sighed, “Can’t we watch something else? It’s boring � bunch of good guys with superpowers fight a bunch of bad guys, bla bla bla.” Frankly, I could careless about the movie right now, my show was with my dad � well, so my cock would say. “I don’t care, happy with whatever,” I said, essentially giving the green light to dad for X-men. “X-men it is. And for that little champ, we’ll make it more comfy this week. Come snuggle with me,” he gestured, opening his blanket, inviting me to be little spoon. “Dad, I’m not 5.” “It’s either that or my feet in your face.” Not that I minded, but of course, didn’t want to give the impression I was into his feet. To be honest, spooning with dad was an even better proposition. “You’re never gonna stop being a kid in our eyes honey bunch,” mom said, as if leaning support to the idea. I relented and nestled as little spoon with my step dad. He wrapped the blanket over us, and then tucked his arm under the heavy blanket, holding me close to his chest. “There, isn’t that better than fighting for the couch? This is how we share.” I wiggled to make sure my head wasn’t blocking his way. “Can you even see?” He wiggled up and pushed my shoulders down slightly, so the top of my head was at the level of his chin. “There we go. No wait …” he said. With him slightly taller than me, that meant his crotch was now directly level with my butt. He shuffled a bit more to make sure my round teen butt was firmly placed in his crotch. “Now, there we go.” At the other end of the couch, our feet were intertwined. Dad wasn’t shy about body contact this time, but I was still confused. Unsure if he was just being a loving step father, or if my pubescent mind had merit. I was going through inner torment between what my horny urges wanted and the commands of logic and morality. I successfully repressed my gutter thoughts and focused on the X-men. Time had passed, and like my mother, I wasn’t too enthused about the movie choice. With sexual urges out of my mind, my body actually felt totally relaxed nestled in my step dad’s embrace. His arm was still holding me, but now his fingers began to gently scratch and caress my chest. His body warmth and soft, yet proportionate, dad bod provided that cushiony comfort. His caressing feet only adding to my relaxation. And without knowing, about 30 minutes into the movie, I drifted into sleep. It was one of those light sleeps where you can somewhat hear and make out what’s happening around you, while absorbing it into your dreams. Dad’s touch turned into a steady rhythm that wrote scripts in my dreams. I could hear the CGI bangs of X-men and the occasional muffles of conversation between my parents, but it was all background. The noise, my dad’s touch, all background. The sounds and touches only became more prominent each time I reached a shallow depth of sleep, only to sink deeper and push them back into consciousness. On one of my shallow resurfaces, I could determine that X-men had reached a pivotal moment � there were more explosions and screaming than usual. I also determined, semi-consciously, that there were tingles on my right butt cheek. It required focus, and so I brought myself out of the semi-conscious state to be closer to full awareness, while ostensibly asleep. My step dad was performing circles with his fingers on my butt, moving them around, making patterns. I was immediately turned on, my cock now springing to life. Fortunately, he’d have no idea being big spoon. I was also conflicted � my dad is caressing my butt under a blanket with my mom right next to us. Everything about this is wrong. How long has been doing this? “Oh God this is boring. Ok I’m going to bed, see you in a bit,” I heard mom say, followed by her shuffling out of the recliner. My dad stopped caressing my butt. “Are you going to put him to bed?” “Yeah, don’t worry,” he whispered, as if not to wake me. I heard mom walk away and the bedroom door close. My eyes were still closed, faux sleeping. But I was now fully aware as to what was going on. With mom gone, dad wasted no time getting back to fondling me. I felt his hand go straight back to my butt, but this time his caressing had more purpose. Although still over my sweat pants, I could feel his fingers move closer to the crack with each swirl. I loved his touch, it felt like a gentle tickle, soft enough to be exciting, but not too intense to provoke a reaction. The caressing became more localised to the part of my right cheek adjacent to my pucker. He kept circling there for a few minutes. Maybe this was his limit. But the feeling was teasing me. With each swirl right next to my hole, I could feel the pucker get an itch that needed to be scratched. I needed that itch scratched so badly. And so, I moved my right leg to a 45 degree angle, allowing him greater access and offering an invitation through movement. I was still feigning sleep, now as reassurance to my step dad that he alone would have knowledge of his next move. He began running his fingers down my crack and over my hole. With easier access, he wasted no time scratching my pucker over my sweatpants and rubbing my hole up and down. I continued “sleeping’, but his panting became heavier. He was getting excited. As if succumbing to his animal instincts, he slipped his right hand under my sweat pants over my bare butt. There was no caressing this time. He grabbed my right cheek with lustful ferocity, before motioning straight for my hole, rubbing my bare pucker. I still kept faux sleeping, scared if I woke up he’d stop. I didn’t want him to stop. And he didn’t. I felt � and heard � him take his finger to his nose and whiff it. He was smelling my musky hole … he was a dirty fucker! I could hear him spit and lick his fingers, before he moved them down again. X-men was still blaring in the background, and my mom no doubt far off in dreamland in bed. I felt dad’s fingers return to my hole, except now they were wet. I wasn’t expecting the sensation and twitched, before leaning back onto his fingers with approval. Dad must’ve sensed I was enjoying it, because he then slid his middle finger into my hole. “Fuckkkk, tuzla içmeler escort that’s tight,” I heard him breathe out. He started motioning the finger in and out. It wasn’t as painful as I thought it’d be, maybe because he spat on his fingers and my butt was already kinda sweaty from being under the blanket? My cock was twitching furiously, but I resisted touching it so as not to “wake up”. But he wouldn’t slow down, and the pace of his fingering increased. He then suddenly pulled out and pushed my bent right leg down so it was elongated and my butt formed a nice bubble. He began groping my cheeks, his feet pushing my sweat pants down to my ankles. We were still covered by the blanket, but after a minute of groping my cheeks, I felt him slightly squirm before feeling something unfamiliar. A thick, warm, hard rod started rubbing up and down my crack. My step dad had flopped his cock out and was now rubbing it on my bare ass. He kept doing that for a few minutes. At first he wedged his cock in my crack, humping me. He then slid his cock in between my thighs, and humped them a bit. Finally, he placed his knob on my hole and began wiping it. That created a sensation I’d never felt before � my hole was electrified. I couldn’t contain it anymore, and started squirming, waking up in the process. As I expected, my step dad was alarmed. Out of fright, he quickly rolled me onto my stomach and laid on top of me, his hard, and from what I can feel, thick cock wedged again in my crack. He put his hand over my mouth and whispered in my ear, “shut up and don’t move. Got it?” I nodded in agreement. I was a bit scared because I was enjoying this too. Was he going to do something I didn’t want? I felt him reach his arm behind him, and return with a sock in his hand. It was his, he shoved it in my mouth. “Suck on that. I know you like my stinky feet, you licked them last week,” he said, exhaling heavily, clearly drowned in his own lust. “You liked licking my stinky feet, didn’t you?” He asked while grinding his fully hard cock into my cheeks. I nodded and muffled “mmhmm.” “Now I’m gonna make a man out of you. Don’t move or make a sound,” he said, grabbing my hair to make sure I understood the severity of his command. What did he mean by “make a man” out of me? I felt him kneel up and spit loudly into his hand. I laid still while he wiped it on my hole. Was he going to finger me again? This was more spit than he used last time. Before I could answer myself, I felt his knob forcefully enter my innocent hole, passing my sphincter with the first entry. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” I cried in pain into his sock. I tried to swivel away from his cock, but he laid straight on top of me, all 175 pounds of my step dad. I couldn’t move, my arms squashed beneath me. “Sshhhh,” he groaned back into my ear, except his groans were out of pleasure. He slowly motioned his hips to allow the pain to pass and my muscles relax. I could feel his cock slowly thrust in and out, its girth rudely pushing my ass muscles out the way. I think he was all the way in because I could feel his balls on my ass. It wasn’t feeling better. I was still groaning in pain, trying to kick my legs. But my squirming only excited him further. He pinned my feet down with his own and began to thrust faster and harder. “I told you not to move.” But I couldn’t help it, each thrust provoked a sensory response that made me squirm one way or another. That only emboldened him to fuck harder, and now his cock was ferociously slamming into my ass. His balls were now slapping my ass, his pelvic tilt crushing me below with every thrust. “Fuck yeah, I love your virgin teen ass,” he whispered in my ear. “I need to get in deeper.” And with that he grabbed my hips and positioned me in all fours. “Head down,” he said, pushing my head down so my ass would stick up in the air. I was relieved that my dad’s bodyweight was no off me. I felt his knob on my hole, and this time he slid it in from the top. This went in much deeper than the first thrusts, but wasn’t as painful. He was crouched over me like a dog, slamming my ass hard, each thrust seemingly reaching deeper inside me than the previous thrust. My painful moans started to turn into those of pleasure. The pain subsided as now all I could feel was a tingling in my cock. Every time he thrusts, my cock tingles and twitches. I grabbed my cock and started stroking while dad continued to pound me from above. “Ohhhh yeah,” he groaned. The sensations were too much for me, I felt like I was out of my skin. I was too focused on my cock, and the electric jolts going from my ass to my cock. Something was about to happen until he stopped and flipped me over. What now? He didn’t say a word, just threw me around like a rag doll. I was now on my back on the couch. He took the sock out of my mouth, stood on the couch above me, and knelt down until his hole was squarely on my nose. He proceeded to wipe my face with his plumber ass, which he obviously hasn’t washed since the day before. And knowing my disgusting plumber dad, he doesn’t wipe very well. “Smell that. I wanna hear you smell it.” I had no choice, I inhaled deeply so he could hear it. All I could smell was a whole day of sweaty, musky ass with left over shit streaks because he’s a lazy fucker who can’t wipe properly. Now he’s using my face to wipe his ass. “Smells good, doesn’t it? I couldn’t answer, my face was smothered in his dirty ass. He didn’t care. He then rested his hole on my mouth. “Lick it. I want it clean before I go to bed.” And just like with his farts and feet, I was so turned on by plumber step dad’s filth. I obediently stuck my tongue out and licked his hole. Fuck, it tasted like stale shit at first, and I retracted. Maybe this was too far? “Lick it.” I had no choice. I got to work, and although I was at first somewhat repulsed, my cock was rock hard. I heard him groan, which only excited me more. After I licked the sweaty shit stain on his hole, I proceeded to lick the edges around the hole, nibbling the shit particles from his ass hair, and then sticking my tongue in. “That’s it, get in there. Clean that shit.” He kept wiggling his ass in exultation, and spread his cheeks so I could get in deeper. After a few minutes of licking his dirty ass, the taste of muskiness had gone. I was proud that I had done a decent job. He let go of his cheeks, which meant his ass was still firmly smothering my face. Only now I was loving it, eating his ass with intent. I was so drawn into his hole that I was startled by the sudden, loud, long release of a fart on my mouth. It was too much for me to breathe in at once, I started coughing. My step dad didn’t move. “Breathe it in and keep licking my ass.” I did as he said, capturing his fart with my mouth and licking. I could hear him beating off � he was turned on by using my face as his toilet. I kept licking, he kept letting out small farts, and I kept licking … until he lifted his ass off my face, moved back slightly, and said, “open your mouth,” before spraying my face with loads of his cum. Large bouts landed in my mouth and I duly swallowed. It mixed with the taste of his dirty ass and farts in my mouth, adding a salty creaminess to it. He was panting too heavily to say anything, and I was too focused on blowing my own load, which I did on my chest. He wasn’t paying attention, only concerned with his own gratification. He still sat above me, lowering his knob into my mouth. “Lick it clean. Don’t want your mom tasting cum on my cock.” I put his now semi-hard cut, thick knob in his mouth � the first time I tasted cock. All sort of thoughts were racing in my mind, but primary of all was satisfaction … and disbelief. Before my mind drifted, I snapped myself back into reality and realised my dad’s cock � now soft � was still in my mouth and he was just sitting above me. I looked up at him, and tapped him on his back � my hands now free. Looking down at me, with that same malicious grin, he said: “We haven’t finished yet.” He saw my confused expression, and grabbed the back of my head. “Keep my dick in your mouth and don’t let go.” And with that, he let out a stream of piss into my mouth. “Don’t spill a drop, swallow it all.” I did as I was told, drinking it down like an infant on a milk bottle. I thought I’d be disgusted by the taste, but after all I had done, I wasn’t surprised that I actually liked it. “Ahh,” dad groaned, using me for his final release. After a minute, the last spurts of piss now down my throat, he took his soft cock out and shook the final drops on my face. “There, now we’re done … no, wait.” Before getting completely off me, he sat on my face and let out one more loud fart. “Now we’re done.” He finally let me up and ruffled my hair. “Don’t leave your clothes here. Get to bed, and I’ll see you soon.” Soon?

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