I never planned on any of this. My wifes son, Jamal, moved in with us right after his eighteenth birthday, tall and quiet with smooth dark skin and a body that filled out fast. At first he was just the kid from her first marriage, keeping to his room, wearing baggy clothes. Then the summer heat hit and everything changed.
One night I came home late from work. The house was dark except for the glow under his door. I knocked once, then pushed it open when I heard a low moan. Jamal was on his bed, naked, legs spread. His cock, thick and dark, stood straight up while two fingers worked between his cheeks. He had small, firm breasts with pierced nipples that caught the light. He looked up, eyes wide, but didnt stop.
Stepdad, he breathed, voice husky. I I cant stop thinking about you.
My own cock, already half-hard from the sight, thickened fast. I stepped inside and closed the door.
Show me what you want, I said, voice low.
Jamal pulled his fingers out and rolled onto his knees, ass up, presenting himself. His hole glistened. I want that giant cock you keep teasing me with in the hallway. I want it stretching me open. I want you to fuck your black shemale stepson until I cant walk straight.
I stripped fast. My cock sprang free, heavy and veined, nine thick inches that made him whimper when he saw it. I climbed onto the bed behind him, grabbed his hips, and rubbed the fat head against his slick entrance.
You sure about this? I asked, even as I pushed.
Yes, Daddy. Please.
I sank in slow, inch by inch, watching his dark ring stretch around my pale shaft. He was tight, hot, gripping me like a fist. Jamal moaned loud, pushing back until his ass met my hips. I bottomed out, balls pressed to his smooth skin, and held still so he could feel every pulse.
Then I started moving. Long, deep strokes that made his whole body rock. His cock swung beneath him, leaking onto the sheets. I reached around and stroked it in time with my thrusts, feeling the contrast of his smaller length against my grip.
Harder, he begged. Fuck your stepson harder.
I slammed into him, skin slapping loud in the quiet room. His breasts bounced with every thrust. Sweat ran down his back. I leaned over, bit his shoulder, and pounded deeper. Jamal came first, shooting thick ropes across the bed while his hole clenched around me. The squeeze pulled me over the edge. I buried myself to the root and flooded him, pulse after pulse of hot cum filling his ass until it leaked out around my cock.
We didnt stop there.
Every night after that became ours. Sometimes Id wake to find him already between my legs, lips stretched around my morning wood, taking as much as he could before climbing on and riding me reverse so I could watch his ass swallow my cock. Other times I bent him over the kitchen counter while my wife was at work, fucking him quick and dirty until he came untouched on the floor.
He loved when I talked dirty.
Thats it, take Daddys giant cock. You were made for this, werent you? My black shemale stepson, always hungry for it.
Yes, hed gasp, pushing back. Only yours.
One afternoon I had him on his back, legs over my shoulders, pounding him so deep his belly showed a bulge each time I bottomed out. I watched his face twist with pleasure, watched his own cock spurt across his chest without a single touch. I kept fucking him through it, using his hole until I added another load to the mess inside him.
We never got caught, but the risk made it hotter. Hed text me during the day: Cant stop thinking about your cock. Come home and wreck me.
I always did.
By the end of that summer Jamal knew exactly how to work mehow to clench at the right moment, how to beg in that soft voice that made my cock twitch. And I knew how to make him fall apart, how to hold him down and give him every inch until he was shaking and full.
It wasnt love. It was raw need, filthy and perfect. My black shemale stepson wanted my giant cock, and I gave it to him every chance we got.
