Jerking Off in Daddy’s Arms Ch. 1/3

This is a fictional story, featuring a sexual relationship between a step-father and a step-son. Reading discretion is advised.

I was 19 when it happened. My mother, Emma, had been abroad for weeks now, and distant from both me and my stepdad for a long time before that. I’ve always seen Rick as my real father. My biological one left when she was pregnant with me, and she never let me forget it—even if she didn’t always say it outright. It’s your fault they didn’t know how to use a condom. Ridiculous.

For the past few months, things between Emma and Rick had been falling apart. She complained he never listened, and she’d made it clear she didn’t want to fuck him again. They used me as a reluctant messenger between them, and I was terrified they might actually break up.

Rick had been in my life since I was little. He showed me the kind of steady love my mother and my real father never could. He treated me like I was his own. At first I didn’t like him—I was young and scared of this stranger suddenly living in our house—but it only took a few weeks for me to realize how lucky I was to have him as a dad.

They got married a year after he moved in, when I was 13. By then I’d already started calling him Dad (the first time by accident). Both of them were thrilled I’d accepted him so quickly.

I still don’t know exactly what changed between them these last few months. They used to be happy. A big part of it was money. My biological father had been loaded, apparently, and the contrast made everything worse. Rick was barely keeping a roof over our heads. Mom’s nonprofit job paid shit, and rent devoured most of what we had.

I’d been looking for work since I turned 18, but medical school ate up nearly all my time.

Thunder roared outside. I pulled my weighted blanket tighter around me, curling it hard against my body. It was 1 a.m. and the storm had me on edge. Yeah, I know—I’m 19, I shouldn’t be scared of rain. But Mom and I had ended up homeless more than once before Rick came into our lives. Nights like this, without shelter, left ugly memories that still clawed at me.

Another crack of thunder made me jump. I couldn’t sleep. The rain hammered against the windows, loud and relentless, while the darkness pressed in. The fear that we could lose everything again—that this might become our future—settled cold in my chest.

I got up and padded to the kitchen for water. The moment I flicked on the light, I saw him.

Rick was sitting on the sofa, head in his hands, crying.

He looked up quickly when the light hit him, wiping his tears with the back of his hand and forcing a smile. But I’d already seen the raw vulnerability on his face.

“Oh, hey son,” he said, voice cracking.

“Dad, what’s up?” I asked, setting the water bottle and glass down. I walked over to him. He was wearing just boxers and a t-shirt, his strong, hairy build looking solid even now. Yet he seemed so vulnerable. All I wanted in that moment was to protect him—because I loved him that much. I sat down beside him.

As men, neither of us liked crying. We usually just stayed quiet until things fixed themselves.

“It’s nothing, kiddo,” he said. “I just…” He sighed heavily. “Forget it.”

“Dad, please…” I lifted my hand and rested it on his shoulder, squeezing gently. I could guess what this was about, but I needed to hear it from him.

“I’m okay, Felix. I promise,” he sniffed.

“Dad, you were crying alone in the dark at 1 a.m. Come on…”

“Damn it, son.” His voice broke. “It’s your mother. She’s been so distant. She blames me for everything—unpaid bills, her shitty job, the house not being clean. Everything is fucking my fault. And she’s been working more than usual… she’s almost never home.”

“Dad—”

“You’re thinking it too, aren’t you?”

“I don’t… I don’t know, Dad,” I replied quietly. We were both thinking the same thing: her cheating. But I forced out, “She’s loyal. She wouldn’t do that.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” I smiled gently at him.

He sighed. “Alright.” Then he looked at me properly. “Why are you awake? You have classes tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Why?”

“It’s the weather,” I blurted. For most guys, admitting something like that to their dad would be humiliating. But Rick had always met me with endless empathy, so I’d gotten used to telling him things I couldn’t tell Mom.

“You’re… scared of the storm?” He smirked, though the wrinkles around his bloodshot eyes made it look tired.

“Yeah. When I was a kid, Mom and I ended up homeless a few times. So when it rained like this…”

“Oh… s-sorry,” he said awkwardly, the smirk fading.

Another loud crack of thunder made me flinch. “Damn it.”

“Well, you can sleep in my bed if you’re that scared,” he offered casually.

My eyes widened.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, sure,” I said, rubbing the back of my head like it was no big deal.

“You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable, Felix. It’s just a suggestion.”

“No, no—I’m fine,” I replied quickly. I didn’t want him to regret offering comfort. I stood up, and he followed. I turned off the lights, and we headed to his room.

He got under the blankets first. I slid in after him, wearing my pajama shorts and t-shirt. At least we weren’t completely shirtless or something. I turned onto my side as he pulled the covers up to our necks. Then he shifted closer. His warm breath brushed the back of my neck right before his strong arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me back against him.

“Sleep tight, son,” he murmured.

The storm still screamed outside, but it didn’t touch me anymore. As long as I had this man in my life, I knew I’d be safe no matter what. We were both exhausted, so sleep came quickly.

I woke up a few hours later. The alarm clock on his nightstand read 7:30. He usually got up around eight for work. Mom was still away, and I was glad for it. I had no idea how she’d react to this. Dad’s arm was still wrapped firmly around my waist, and I didn’t want to move it.

What really woke me was the hard cock pressed against my ass.

Shit. He had morning wood. And I wasn’t any better. My own dick was aching. I didn’t want him to wake up and catch us like this, but his thick, hairy arm around me felt too good to pull away from. I slid my hand down and cupped myself over my pajama shorts. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, so the fabric rubbed right against my skin. The space in my shorts made everything more intense.

I squeezed out of habit and gasped at how good it felt. Guilt hit me instantly from almost jerking off while my dad was cuddling me. But his warm, hairy arm felt incredible against my body. I couldn’t help squeezing myself again… then again. My hand slowly moved lower. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath as I started stroking harder. I was so fucking hard I thought I might cum right there.

I pressed my ass back against my dad’s hard cock. Guilt and shame burned through me, but the pleasure was stronger. I knew this chance might never come again, so I pulled my dick out of my shorts and started stroking properly. The risk of him waking up only made me hornier.

A few quiet strokes later, my tip was slick with precum. I rubbed my thumb over it, spreading the wetness as I pumped faster. All the while, Dad’s hard cock stayed pressed firmly against my ass. I rubbed back against it lightly, praying he wouldn’t wake up.

“Felix… are you touching yourself?”

The second I heard my name, I froze. I yanked my shorts up fast, heart hammering. Fuck. He’d never look at me the same way again. He’d think I was a freak.

“Uh, n-no—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice still thick with sleep. He pulled me even closer, his hard cock pressing more firmly against my ass. “It’s normal, you know that, right?”

“I-I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry,” I stammered, panic rising.

“Hey, don’t be sorry.” He groaned and yawned, tightening his arm around me. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything… You can finish what you started, son.”

What the fuck?

“W-what?”

“I can leave if you want. Or I can pretend to be asleep again.” His voice was calm and reassuring. “Just don’t get blue balls, it’s not good for you. It’s normal to want to do that. You’re a young man. All guys your age do this.”

“You… you really wouldn’t mind if I pulled my cock out right now and just… finished?” At 19, I really didn’t need the encouragement, but hearing him say it made my pulse race.

“Well, yeah.”

I let out a shaky breath and slid my hand back into my shorts. I was still rock hard, and so was he, his thick erection pressed firmly against my ass. I pulled my cock out, throbbing and heavy in my grip. With his face buried against the back of my neck, I doubted he could see anything, but the thought that he was right there made my skin burn.

I started slowly at first, fingers wrapping around my shaft, feeling the heat and the way I slid over the hardness underneath. My breathing grew shallower as I picked up speed, stroking rougher, faster. Wet sounds filled the quiet room with every pump.

“There you go. Good boy…” Dad murmured, his voice low and rough. He gently rolled his hips, rubbing his hard cock against my ass in slow, deliberate thrusts. He couldn’t help himself either. I pressed my back harder against his broad, hairy chest, desperate to melt into him completely. I felt so safe. So wanted.

“Does it feel good?” he whispered against my neck.

“Y-yes, Daddy…” The word slipped out before I could stop it. I was leaking heavily now, precum coating my fingers and making every stroke slick and filthy. I bit down hard on my bottom lip, toes curling tight as pleasure coiled low in my gut. “I… I can’t last much longer…”

“Cum for me, Felix. Cum for your dad…” His hot breath ghosted over my skin.

I couldn’t hold back. A deep groan tore from my throat as my cock twitched hard in my fist. Thick ropes of cum pulsed out, splattering over my hand, my stomach, and the sheets beneath me. My whole body jerked with each spurt, ass pressing back against his cock as I rode it out.

“Yes, there you go… good boy,” he groaned, his big hand rubbing slow circles over my cum-smeared stomach, smearing the warm mess across my skin.

I moaned like a bitch through the whole thing, voice cracking, hips twitching uncontrollably until the last weak spurts dribbled over my slick fingers. My hand was drenched, shiny and sticky with my load.

“You made such a big mess…” he said softly, almost admiring.

“I-I’m sorry…” Heat flooded my face. The regret hit instantly, but fuck, it had felt so good.

“Here.” He finally loosened his arm and reached over to the nightstand, handing me a tissue. I didn’t dare look at him. I mumbled a quiet “thanks” and wiped my hand, my stomach, and the soaked spot on the mattress as best I could. My cock had softened and was tucked back into my pants, but I could still feel his hardness behind me.

“So uh… maybe don’t tell your mother about this?” he said. “I’m not sure she’d understand.”

“Y-yeah, I won’t,” I replied, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, she… she wouldn’t understand.”

“I know.” I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “I’ll, uh… I’ll get ready for class.” I stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll see you around,” I added, the words sounding weird and distant, like he was suddenly a stranger.

I loved him more than anything, and I knew he loved me the same. But we both felt it: we’d just crossed a hot, dangerous boundary we could never uncross. A father and son weren’t supposed to do this, no matter how horny or right it felt in the moment.

And yet, even as I walked away, my dick was already twitching again, getting hard at the memory of his strong arm wrapped around me while I jerked myself off.