His Stepson Wears Lace

by Kelex

  Adding the bustier, he grinned at his reflection. It took him a while to fix all the hooks up the length of the front, but it was well worth the sensation. His only wish was that it was a corset—he’d always wished to try one on and feel the constriction of the boning and ties pulling him tight.

  Not that he’d be able to manage it alone, of course.

  He loved the sight he saw looking back at him… but sensed he needed more. Jereme headed into his mother’s ensuite bathroom and saw she hadn’t taken all of her makeup. It had been a while since he’d played in it. Before he’d been caught, he’d spent hours alone in his room, watching YouTube tutorials on how to put on the makeup he’d snuck out of her room. Jereme added just a little, enough to add to the fantasy. He painted his eyes, added set of fake eyelashes… mascara… lipstick… and a little rouge. Just enough to send a thrill down his spine.

  On his way back to her closet, he saw some of his mother’s wigs. Snatching a long, curly one, he returned to the bathroom and put it on. He gasped at his reflection. The beautiful creature he saw in the mirror looked more like the image of himself he saw in his head. He was beautiful… and it had been so long since he’d felt like that.

  Tears stung the backs of his eyes.

  He returned to the closet and the full-length mirror before spinning and looking at himself at every angle. Jereme even took a few pictures with his iPhone before going in search of a dress to add over his lingerie.

  As he looked through her clothing, a heavy hand landed on his hip.

  He froze. Fear crashed into him.

  Caught.

  Again.

  Heat flooded his face. His heart thudded hard in his chest.

  “You finally put them on.” Anson paused as he laid a kiss on Jereme’s bare shoulder. “Damn… you look so fucking sexy.”

  Jereme didn’t know what to say. How would his stepfather react to finding him dressed in lingerie… lingerie that wasn’t his? Would Anson’s fists be even harder than his ex-stepfather’s? He nodded his head in answer to Anson’s question, waiting for the moment he could run.

  Anson moved his hand from Jereme’s hip, sliding it forward. He dipped his fingers into the band of the panties, just barely brushing the top of Jereme’s pubes. Could Anson not see the way his cock pushed out the front of the panties?

  “You’ve been letting it grow,” Anson said. “I approve.”

  The man’s hand dipped again before he reached down to stop his stepfather from going any farther and realizing it wasn’t Gloria standing there decked out in all that silk and lace.

  “Oh, come on… you’re the one who told me to come home early to play.” Anson pressed another kiss to Jereme’s shoulder. “And here I am… with you dressed in the lingerie I bought you forever ago. I started to think I’d never see you in it.”

  Jereme closed his gaze as he felt the swell of Anson’s hard cock pressing against his ass. His whole body trembled with need. Losing himself to the fantasy of a moment, he pretended all this was for him. Anson’s desire. The soft caresses. The gentle, nipping kisses. The thick, hard shaft prodding his ass.

  Before he could stop his stepfather, the man spun him and planted a kiss on his lips.

  Wide-eyed with terror, he saw Anson’s eyes were miraculously shut. His stepfather had no idea who he was kissing. Jereme reached behind himself and searched the wall for the light switch. Finally, he found it and plunged them into darkness. Only the light from the bedroom poured in from the gap in the door. Anson growled approvingly before pulling Jereme closer and deepening the kiss.

  When his stepfather’s hand traveled lower again, he pulled back and dropped to his knees to avoid the touch and give him a chance to run. Jereme was eye to eye with the tented bulge in Anson’s pants. Get up.

  Go.

  I can’t do this.

  Jereme licked his lips, the curiosity winning. He trailed a hand over Anson’s hard shaft, tracing his fingertips over it before something came over him. Jereme had already crossed lines that night…

  What was one more?

  He wanted to know what it felt like to be with a man. This man. This handsome, beautiful man.

  Jereme undid his stepfather’s belt and slowly slid the zipper down. He drew Anson’s hard cock out through the opening in the briefs and took in the sight of the hard, thick shaft. Veins spread around the girthy length, enough to stretch Jereme’s mouth to extremes. He traced his fingers over the velvet-soft skin, learning every inch before leaning forward and licking the head. Anson’s seed had already begun to drip from the slit… and he gathered it on his tongue. The salty-sweet flavor spread through his mouth and only made him hungry to taste more.

  Looking up through the heavy fringe of bangs, he saw the hunger in Anson’s face, even in the low light. Shadows danced over the angles of the man’s face, but the desire was so vivid. Never had Jereme seen that kind of need… a need he desperately wanted to satisfy. He took Anson’s cock as far into his mouth as he could and was rewarded with a deep groan of pleasure from his stepfather.

  “Oh, damn…” Anson said before he dug his fingers into the wig.

  A little niggle of fear slipped through his mind, fearful Anson would pull the wig off and he’d be caught—but he was well past the point of stopping. He had to have more… know what went on between two people.

  He took Anson a little deeper… suckling with everything he had. Jereme had never sucked a cock before, but he’d watched enough porn to have a general idea of what happened. And from the moans coming from Anson, he was fairly certain he was at least doing an adequate job.

  Anson’s body was pure tension. Pure power. There was a masculine strength emanating from his stepfather, even just simply standing there. Jereme felt submissive and beautiful in those silky pieces, on his knees, with a thick cock in his mouth.

  Reaching down, he caressed his own cock a little—fearful to do too much. Already he was on the edge of release, just from sucking Anson’s heavy shaft. He wanted more… to feel his stepfather sliding deep inside him and giving him a true fucking, but that wouldn’t be.

  Couldn’t be.

  He felt Anson’s hips moving even faster… the tension mounting. His stepfather began pumping even faster, nearly fucking Jereme’s hungry mouth.

  Come for me, he whispered in his mind, needing to experience Anson’s cries of pleasure. Needing to taste more of that salty-sweet release on his tongue. It only took a few more pumps before he got it. Anson cried out before pumping a thick load into Jereme’s mouth. The salty-sweetness washed over his tongue and down his throat. He swallowed it all… and then cleaned the remnants away, hungry for more.

  “Damn,” Anson said between heavy breaths. “I think that was the best blowjob of my life.”

  Prideful, he grinned to himself before rising to his stockinged feet. But that pride was short lived. As soon as he was done, the reality of what he’d just done hit him. He’d done more than crossed a line. He’d committed a tragic error. Now was Jereme’s chance to get away, as Anson recuperated from what was deemed ‘the best blowjob of his life’. He turned to leave, but Anson grabbed his wrist and dragged Jereme back.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Anson asked huskily. There was a playfulness to his tone, but it still had Jereme worried. “We’re just getting started.”

  Jereme pulled his hand away and tried to leave, only to have his wrist grabbed again.

  “What’s the deal? You blow me then try to run? You asked me to come home. Here I am, Gloria.”

  There would be no getting away. Jereme knew he needed to come clean and face the consequences of what he’d just done. He reached out a hand and flipped on the closet light.

  And then turned to look at Anson.

  Anson froze… and then his eyes went wide. Reaching out, Jereme grabbed the bottom of the wig before dragging it off.

  His stepfather took a slow step back, eyes wide and mouth open.

  “I… I’m sorry.”

 
; “You’re sorry?” Anson asked, looking completely shocked.

  When the shock faded some and a frown furrowed Anson’s brow, Jereme raced to his bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest. Bile rose in his throat. He locked the door and turned as a hand struck on the outside of it.

  “Jereme? What the hell were you thinking?”

  I don’t know… I don’t know!

  Jereme stood on the other side of the door, fear gripping him. There were no words… his mind was in full panic mode.

  “Jereme! I’m married to your mother, for god’s sake!”

  “I’m sorry,” Jereme whispered.

  “Jereme!”

  “I was afraid! I didn’t know what to do!”

  “You should’ve told me! You should’ve stopped me!”

  “I went too far!” Jereme cried.

  “Too far?” Anson grew silent a moment. When he spoke again, there was a little less anger in his tone. “That’s a fucking understatement if I ever heard one.”

  “I’m sorry!” It was all he could say…

  “Did Gloria put you up to this?”

  What? “No!!”

  Silence came after. Not total silence. He could hear his stepfather breathing heavily on the other side of the door. But the man said nothing. He didn’t attempt to bust the door down. Jereme sat on the end of his bed, his legs like rubber, as he awaited his fate.

  What in the hell did he do now? Would Anson tell his mother? He closed his eyes as he considered her reaction. His poor choices had once again led him down a dangerous path. He’d been caught before… and look how that had ended. He should’ve known better.

  His mother would never forgive him.

  She might tell his father, and he had no idea how his dad would react. They were finally working on a relationship and everything was so fragile. Easily broken.

  Jereme would be utterly alone…

  Terror unlike anything he’d ever known swamped him… and in his panic, his mind began to spiral to dark places. Bad decisions on top of bad decisions.

  “Jereme? It was a mistake… a terrible mistake. We’ll get past this….” He paused. “I need to know you’re okay.”

  The concern in Anson’s voice was a surprise. There seemed to be no anger in his stepfather’s tone, but maybe that was a deception. A means to lure him out… so Anson could get his retribution.

  Anson’s not like that. He hadn’t spent much time with the man, but from the little he’d seen—Jereme didn’t think Anson was a violent man.

  Not like some of the others had been.

  “Please tell me you’re okay… and that you’re not going to hurt yourself. I’m not mad. Confused, but not mad.”

  Is he a mind-reader? Jereme crossed the room and stopped just before the door. “Are you going to tell her?”

  “Your mother?” Silence came again for a moment. “I don’t think it would be good for either of us.”

  He let out a relieved sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Silence hung heavily on the other side of the door.

  “You made a mistake… and we’ll just… forget it happened. Okay?”

  Forget? There was no way he was forgetting anything. He could still taste Anson on his tongue. Feel his stepfather’s hands all over him. Even in his fear, he wanted more. He wanted it all… and knew he’d never have it.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “Did you not see the note on the bed?”

  Anson was quiet a moment. “No.”

  Jereme rested his forehead on the door. “Maybe you should go read it.”

  He heard footfalls heading away and something called to him to follow. To be there to offer support but he knew his comfort wouldn’t be sought. Or accepted. Jereme turned, siding down the door until his silk covered bottom hit the thick carpeted floor.

  Gazing down his body, he still felt the lingering need that a little silk and lace had caused. It was then that he knew his fetishes might eventually be the end of him. This time… he appeared to be lucky.

  But his luck might very well run out sometime soon.

  Chapter Three

  Anson stalked down the hallway, his mind churning. His body still on edge. Seeing that it was Jereme in Gloria’s lingerie should’ve been a blast of ice water to his need—but for some reason it only amplified it. His cock was rock hard. Aching. All he wanted to do was bust Jereme’s door down and pin his stepson to the bed—but reason had luckily ruled in his head.

  He could sense Jereme’s thick fear through the bedroom door. Anson hated that his stepson’s first instinct was to fear him, but then… if the roles had been reversed, he likely would’ve been afraid, too. Jereme had always been a quiet kid. Anson hadn’t known him well… or known the kid’s mental state. Something like this could very well push Jereme over the edge.

  Once he got to the bedroom, he saw the piece of paper on the bed. Picking it up, he saw Gloria’s handwriting. Anson read it three times, the first two so surreal he knew he had to be reading it wrong. She’d left him.

  She had left him.

  He sat on the bed as a myriad of emotions warred within him. Anger. Happiness. Sadness. Joy. Irritation. Yet his mind went back to Jereme. That guy had grown up around Gloria’s constant chaos. What had that done to him? What kind of scars did Jereme have?

  Or was Jereme just like her? Searching for a way to use him now that Mommy was done? He hated that one of his first instincts had him wondering what Jereme’s motives had been, but after the last year, his mind went to dark places. He still wasn’t totally sure that there wasn’t something more to Jereme’s games.

  Now that he knew his wife was leaving him—had she taken pictures of him? Blackmail material wouldn’t be a surprise at this point. She obviously wanted money.

  Anson’s gaze drifted to the open closet door, and he felt another swell of heat spread over him. Jereme’s eager mouth wrapped around his cock… it had been amazing. What would more feel like?

  Shit… you cannot think like that. It never should’ve happened.

  At least Gloria couldn’t say he’d cheated if it wasn’t a ploy and she ever found out—not that he ever planned to tell her what happened. But, if the truth made its way to the surface… she was the one who’d left him for another man and he had it in writing. He was free from her and her manipulations. Her free spending of his hard-earned income. A smile crossed his lips that had no right to be there, but he couldn’t help it.

  He was free. Or soon would be.

  Again his mind went back to Jereme. How his stepson had looked in the lingerie. How excited he still was from seeing it. Which was confusing as hell, too. He’d had a few same-sex relationships back in college—experiments in his own sexuality. Since returning home, he’d been so focused on a career, he hadn’t had much time to devote to relationships. For some reason, he’d slipped back into past habits—somewhat hiding that part of himself to fit in within a small, mostly conservative city. Not that he’d come face to face with a man who’d stirred him into upending the status quo.

  Was this just Jereme’s journey to finding who and what he was? If so, how Anson handled this situation could impact the rest of his stepson’s life. What happened shouldn’t have happened… but… it did and now they needed to face it openly and honestly. Honestly… to a point. He sure as hell wasn’t giving Gloria any ammunition in the upcoming divorce.

  He needed to determine Jereme’s motives… and fast.

  Before he even knew what he was doing, he was back at Jereme’s door, knocking. “Have you had dinner?” Wincing, he knew full well that Jereme likely wanted to be as far from him as possible… but he couldn’t let go. Not without assuring himself that the guy was in an okay mental space.

  Little more than a whisper came through the door. “No.”

  “Let’s get something to eat.”

  Silence. But he sensed Jereme lingering near the door.

  “Look, I know you’re probably embarrassed… don’t be. You
were just… exploring… and it took a wrong turn. We can get past this.” Hopefully that’s all it was.

  Jereme said nothing for a long moment. Just before Anson gave up, he heard, “If I open the door, you’re not going to hit me, are you?”

  Hit him? “No, Jereme. I won’t lay one hand on you. I promise.”

  The door opened a crack, and Anson found himself disappointed that the lingerie was gone. Jereme had washed his face… and put on sweats and a T-shirt. The fantasy was gone… yet his desire… it still remained.

  Diminished, but not departed.

  He captured his stepson’s stare and felt a swell of newfound need racing through him. The desire to draw Jereme into his arms and tell the kid everything would be okay screamed in his veins. “Carlo’s?”

  Jereme nodded before he took a step back and urged his stepson forward.

  The whole way down, Anson watched as Jereme looked over his shoulder a few times, as fearful and timid as a mouse. Who had made him so afraid? Was it Gloria? Someone else? What had Jereme gone through over the years?

  Now you decide to play daddy? You barely paid this kid any mind when he lived here. Where was that concern before now?

  They were both quiet as they exited and slid into Anson’s Audi. He started the SUV and pulled out of the semi-circular drive before heading for the small, favorite Italian spot in the neighborhood. Anson searched for the right things to say… but worried anything that came out of his mouth would only make the situation worse. The trip wasn’t long, thankfully, but soon enough they’d be face to face and he’d still not know what to say…

  A few minutes later, they were in a booth near the back, the place uncharacteristically slow for a Friday evening. He poured over the menu the hostess had offered him… but his stare kept sweeping up to Jereme.

  Who seemed to sense Anson’s stare. His face was growing redder and redder by the minute. Anson adjusted himself in his seat, realizing he rather liked that shade of red on Jereme.

  It would look even better on his ass.

  Anson’s eyes widened at the thought. What the hell am I thinking? He’s Gloria’s son, for fuck’s sake.