A Mom's Twisted Boyfriend

Hello readers. Recently I accidentally submitted a story called "A Mom's Twisted Boyfriend". I explained in a comment that it wasn't finished and said I would correct that.

This is this complete story. I have included the first part so if it seems familiar you can scroll down until you reach and entire line of these - ***** - after which the rest of the story begins. Thanks for your understanding.

*****

For his mother's benefit Michael Porter offered a weak smile when he saw her boyfriend looking at him through the window, making a goofy face while Michael was finishing up the breakfast dishes, and after the teen nodded the middle aged man came into the kitchen using the squeaky screen door.

"I should oil that thing," Vince Oliva mused aloud as the door slammed shut behind him before turning his attention to his lady friend's only child who was drying his hands. "And I should get you a little apron Mikey. Maybe a French maid's outfit too for when you do your housework."

"Mom has enough to do," Michael responded while trying to stay calm under the roughneck's barbs.

"Satin panties too," Vince chuckled and enjoyed the wince he got in response. "Black - or maybe red. You like red, boy?"

"Pass," Michael answered, wondering how long his mother was going to put up with this jerk, adding, "You shouldn't waste your money on stuff like that anyway, seeing as you're unemployed."

"Between jobs," Vince corrected. "That's the way construction is, but they're going to approve rehabilitating town hall come September and I figure to land a job for that. Nice inside work for the winter."

"About when your unemployment insurance runs out, isn't it?" Michael snapped.

"Funny how that works out, ain't it?" Vince snickered as he scratched his scalp while Michael tried unsuccessfully not to look at the bulging bicep visible because of the shirt's ripped off sleeves.

"You like that boy?" Vince cackled when he saw the teen look, flexing his muscle for his benefit. "When you grow up maybe you'll get some muscles too."

"No, I was just looking at the way your shirt is falling apart," Michael lied, his gaze having been fixed on the rippling bicep with the fading devil tattoo and the thick tuft of dark brown hair that filled the nasty man's chiseled armpit.

"Yeah, it's seen better days," Vince admitted, and with the intent to make the kid pissed added, "Maybe I'll get your Mom to buy me some new ones."

"Great."

"Say, you got any plans today?" Vince asked. "Thought you and me could get to know each other better."

"Classes," Michael answered.

"College still going on?" Vince asked, and after the teen nodded he shrugged. "Maybe tomorrow. You planning on having a sleepover at your boyfriend Bobby's this weekend?"

"He's a friend," Michael corrected. "I dunno. Why?"

"Well, it's just that when you aren't around, your Mama don't feel the need to try and be quiet, if you know what I mean," Vince replied. "She's a howler, and with you having fun at Bobby's we can all get off."

"I'm not sure what I'm doing this weekend," Michael answered. "Must you be so crude?"

"I am what I am," Vince chortled and then made a muscle again and added, "Maybe instead I should have said, I yam what I yam. You know? Like Popeye? Get it?"

"I get it," Michael replied.

"I bet you do," Vince told him with a snicker. "You know, your mother doesn't even know about you and Bobby. She thinks you two eggheads are just friends.

"We are friends," Michael protested, reflexively backing up a bit as his mother's boyfriend got a little closer to him, trying and succeeding in intimidating the younger lad once again.

"You and me - we can be friends too," Vince said as he put his thumbs in his belt loops. "You know, I come off as a macho guy but - well - there's another side of me. A side I'd like you to get to know."

"I have class in about an hour and a half."

"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice," Vince said as he moved his right hand down and slowly unzipped his jeans zipper.

"You're crazy, Mr. Oliva," Michael said, and when he saw what the older man was doing he recoiled some more and protested. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I thought we were on a first name basis, although I admit I like you in the submissive role," Vince explained as he reached into the open fly of his jeans. "As for what I'm doing, I thought you might like to get a look at what makes your Mama howl so loud."

"You're crazy!" Michael sputtered as he backed up against the sink.

"So I've been told," Vince agreed as she stood there a few feet from the teen, lazily pulling on what he had extracted from his fly. "And for the record, you're looking at my cock. Just as I expected."

"I bet your boyfriend Bobby ain't packing anything like this," Vince declared as his dark beige uncut organ grew in response to the stretching. "Maybe I'm wrong but I figure you for the bottom. There. How do you like that? Don't look away now boy."

"Happy?" Michael replied, his shudder visible as he looked at the grotesque penis swaying fully erect, the hideous network of veins on the over-sized organ taking a back seat in the shock department to the way the cock curved noticeably to the right.

"Crazy the way this fucking thing is warped," Vince noted as she stroked the organ, the purplish knob appearing and disappearing as the foreskin went up and down. "I always thought I could fuck it straight, but that obviously ain't happening."

I think it's the curve that drives the girls crazy," Vince opined. "Does the same to guys too. Maybe even more so."

"Mr. - Vince. I really have to go," Michael said as Vince got closer.

"Here. Just hold it for a minute, son," Vince told him while his eyes never left Michael's as he grabbed the teen's wrist and brought his hand down to his erection, even wrapping it around the thick shaft and helping him squeeze it.

"There. Feel it throbbing?" Vince asked as he directed their hands slowly up and down the sweaty organ while his other hand grabbed Michael's crotch and squeezed. "Thought you'd have a hard-on too. Got a little one don't ya?"

"Please," Michael whimpered.

"Soon. Tomorrow I'll come back," Vince promised as he noticed that he wasn't forcing the teen's hand all that much now. "Imagine how good this throbbing monster will feel in your ass. Don't worry, I won't put all 9" in you. Just enough to make us both happy."

"Don't you dare cry. I'm not your mother falling for that crap. You're loving this," Vince insisted. "Here it comes."

The older man groaned as his cock erupted under the trembling hand's urging, his face contorted as he came, and after he stopped ejaculating he told the teen, "Keep milking it. Milk me dry."

"Sorry for the mess," Vince said abruptly, putting away his member and zipping up. "See you tomorrow son."

Just like that Michael's mother's boyfriend was gone, and after the squeaky screen door slammed shut the teen looked down at his slacks, the front of which were covered with ropes of Mr. Oliva's semen.

Despite being shaken, Michael hurried into his bedroom to change since the pants were a mess, and after he peeled off his underwear which were gooey from another source, he hustled into the bathroom for a quick selective wash-up before getting dressed again for school.

"He thinks I'm going to be here tomorrow?" Michael said aloud to no one as he hurried to his beat-up Toyota for what would be a rushed drive to the campus, but as he jumped in he almost sat on a bag that was on the front seat.

"What the hell is this?" the freshman wondered aloud as he looked into the bag, his eyes widening in disbelief as he extracted the dainty garment. "He think I'm actually going to wear..."

***

"Michael?" Nancy Porter said as she saw her son in the kitchen wearing his bathrobe, his still-damp light brown hair washed but not brushed. "You don't have classes today. What gets you up so early?"

"Uh - going fishing with Bobby," the teen mumbled in response, sticking with one of the two answers that he always used for explaining absences.

"Well don't you two end up drowning," Nancy said as she kissed her only child good bye. "Safer than hunting I guess."

Michael nodded, the idea that the two of them actually did the manly things they often claimed to do clearly preposterous to anyone not desperate to believe the tales, and then his mother was gone.

After fidgeting in the kitchen chair for awhile while looking up at the clock that ticked loudly and ominously, the teen went into his bedroom and peeled his soggy bathrobe off before reaching into the back of his dresser drawer to extract the bag that Mr. Oliva had left for him.

Michael held the dainty pink satin panties up in front of himself, and he shook his head when he looked at the obviously cheap underwear that were probably from Dollar General. The only saving grace was that they probably wouldn't fit, but after they slid right up the teen's smooth legs to his waist he saw he was wrong.

"They are comfortable though," Michael told the dresser mirror as he looked at himself, the satin soft against his skin, but while the panties fit they were snug and were very revealing, showing the bulge his limp dick made as it was crushed under the satin..

Michael reached down under the elastic and pulled on his limp dick a moment before letting go and looking at the result, the bulge a bit more impressive than it had been before.

Putting a dry wrap-around bathrobe around his waist, Michael went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and the feel of the satin rubbing his dick had made him hard by the time he got there.

Michael had just rinsed when he heard the screen door open, and that noise made the teen shiver because this wasn't something that "might" happen. This was happening right now, not in some bedtime fantasy or in him imagining that Bobby was his mother's boy friend when they were together.

Michael went out to the kitchen, where Vince Oliva was glancing at the morning paper left on the table, and Michael noticed that the roughneck was wearing the same worn out shirt as the day before with ratty shorts exposing the older man's scarred knees and hairy legs.

"There's my little sweetie," Vince chuckled as the nervous lad entered the kitchen naked to the waist. "Showing off your physique for me huh boy? Make a muscle for me. Give me a Charles Atlas pose."

Michael shrugged and shuffled his feet, which wasn't the response the older man was looking for as he came up to the boy.

"That wasn't a request you know," Vince said in a stern and deep voice, and then in response Michael flexed his muscles as best he could.

"Too funny," Vince Oliva replied as he reached up and grabbed the lad's bicep between his thumb and index finger and squeezed, the result being that Michael howled in pain and looked at his arm and the start of what would be nasty bruises come morning.

"That hurt," Michael complained. "I'm trying to be nice to you."

"Try harder kid," Vince Oliva answered while reaching down and yanking his shirt off, tossing it aside and contorting his upper torso, the tan skin rippling with muscles and adorned with several old tattoos. "You like this?"

Michael shrugged and made a face as the roughneck's manly, ripe scent filled the air, holding onto the clasp of the bathrobe at his waist.

"You take a shower for me?" Vince asked as he looked the boy over before sniffing his own armpit and grinning. "I didn't."

"I know," Michael replied.

"Something tells me you don't mind either," Vince sneered and then said, "I'm hoping that you're wearing the present I gave you."

"I told you for Mom's sake I'm trying to be nice to you," Michael whined, and after Vince nodded the older man reached down and yanked the robe off, throwing it aside and looking at the lad in the snug pink panties.

"Ooh!" Mr. Oliva said as he looked his girlfriend's son over. "What a sweet looking girly man you are."

"I'm not a girl," Michael snapped as he took a step back, jumping when the construction worker slapped his hands away from the front of the panties.

"That right?" Vince cracked as he reached over and grabbed the bulge in the panties, pulling him closer to him sitting at the kitchen table. "I think you're a cutie. Nice little boy boobs. Did you shave your body hair?"

"No," Michael squirmed as the roughneck held his dick through the satin.

"I had a feeling you would have a tiny dick," Vince chuckled and he rubbed the slender tube from the outside.

"It's not that little. I'ts just that I'm nervous," Michael insisted.

"That so?" Vince asked as he put his hand under the elastic of the panties and pulled him close, and after pulling the front panel outward he looked down and laughed. "Damn, that's a puny dick."

"Why do you have to be so mean?" Michael almost sobbed as the elastic snapped back into place.

"You like it. Don't deny it either," Vince declared as he looked at the lengthening lump in the pink satin inch towards the lad's hip. "You can whine about being made fun of but face it. Your dick is getting hard."

"Mr. Oliva..."

"Got a little wet spot in the panties. Guess my rubbing is making you drip," Vince noticed.

"Gonna cum," Michael warned.

"You better not, girly man," Vince snapped, but as he spoke the kid bent over a bit and made a face that indicated it was too late, and after a series of grunts and groans when Michael straightened up there was a massive stain in the panties.

"You're pathetic," Vince said as he stood up and grabbed the skinny twink, turning him around to face him while pushing down on his scrawny shoulders until his knees hit the linoleum. "Might as well find out if there's anything you can do right."

"What do you want me to do?" Michael asked in a shaky voice.

"Take a guess," his Mom's boyfriend snapped while grabbing his crotch, so nervously the teen fumbled with the button on the shorts before letting them fall, and as they hit floor to reveal the construction man wore no underwear, Michael was at eye level with the man's limp cock and low hanging balls.

The lad helped Vince get the shorts from around his ankles, his hands running over the coarse hair on the older man's calves before looking at the ugly dark beige organ, riddled with veins and topped off with a ragged foreskin that barely covered the crown.

"Well?" Vince asked as Michael's eyes burned from the pungent aroma coming from the man's crotch as his hand took hold of the rubbery penis and pulled on it while looking up at Mr. Oliva. "That's nice. Keep looking up at me while you take my dick in your mouth. That's it. Take it in. Take it all the way in, and don't stop until you've got it all."

**********************************************************************************

Michael followed instructions, and as his Mom's boyfriend's cock began to get hard the lad's oral skills started to reveal themselves. Although after the curved cock got fully erect the boy could only get about halfway down the organ, Mr. Oliva gave him his seal of approval.

"Got to give credit where credit is due," Vince said as he pulled Michael up to his feet. "You might be pudgy and have a tiny pecker, but you do look cute in panties and you suck cock better than your Mom. Now get those gooey panties of for me."

"You got any anal glide or anything like that?" Mr. Oliva asked as the lad stepped out of the panties, cupping his hand over his privates and waiting for instructions.

"Uh no."

"Oh well," Vince said as he swept the newspaper off the kitchen table and went looking through a kitchen cabinet, and when he found a bottle of olive oil declared, "Any port in a storm. Now bend over that table for me."

"Here?" Michael protested. "We can go in my bedroom."

"No, I want this to be something for us to remember. If I fuck you here whenever we're eating supper you can think about how I made you a man," Vince explained as he looked at the bottle before pouring some in his palm. "Extra virgin olive oil. Tell your Mom she needs to buy more. You don't have to tell her why she's out - and why aren't you bent over that table like I told you?"

"Sorry," Michael said, and as he rested his naked upper torso on the wood he looked back and saw his mother's boyfriend priming his erection with the oil, the sight of the construction worker's long bent greased prong making him shiver.

"Now let's get this boy pussy of yours ready," Mr. Oliva declared as he pushed a finger into the puckered ring that was being presented to him. "Damn, you are tight. Well, don't worry because my cock has a way of loosening that up."

"Now boys, and the girls willing to take it," Vince said as he moved in behing th lad and rubbed his cock head on the target. "They say that the way my boner is bent, it sort of churned them up inside. Makes them feel so good."

"OW!" Michael cried out when the bulbous knob began to squeeze inside of him.

"Relax honey," Vince sighed as he pushed his manhood into the tiny ring. "Think I'll get you some crotch-less panties and fish net stockings. How would you like that?"

"It's too big," Michael sobbed, but then the ridge of the glans popped in and after that the slick dick eased in better."

"No, it's just right," Vince corrected as he grabbed the boy's hips and began to move in and out. "Now just relax and let Mr. Twisty take over. Tell me it don't feel good when I churn your bowels for you."

Michael's response was a shudder as he grabbed the curve of the table above his head and felt the probe first corkscrew into him slowly and then get retracted. The lad felt Mr. Oliva's hands squeezing his butt cheeks as the cock began moving in and out a little faster and deeper, with Michael letting out a gasp at the end of each stroke.

"What did I tell you?" came the cackling voice from above and the ancient table groaned in time from the weight shifting. "I can feel your boy pussy grabbing my cock. You're liking it. You're liking it."

"Say it!" Mr. Oliva demanded as he reached up with ne hand and grabbed a handful of the lad's hair and lifted his face off the table. "Tell me you like my dick in your ass."

"Like it," Michael croaked after repeated commands, and his words seemed to inflame the construction worker to go harder and faster until the roughneck let out a bellow, freezing in place as his cock erupted inside his girlfriend's son.

"Uh! Uh! Uh" the older man chanted as he grunted along with the spurts that filled Michael's bowels until he went silent, and after a moment pulled his spent member out of the lad and helped him up from the table.

"Yeah, you liked it a lot," Vince chuckled as he looked over to kid's shoulder at the rope of semen that was on the table. "That ain't my cum."

With that Mr. Oliva went down the hall and into the bathroom, and as Michael cleaned the top of the table and picked up the papers from the floor he waddled towards the bathroom, arriving just in time to hear the shower turn off and the curtain open up.

"Can I - er - help dry you?" Michael asked as he watched the dripping man step out onto the bath rug.

"Knock yourself out," Vince said with a grin as the lad came up to him with a fresh towel, dropping to his knee and starting to dry his legs from the ankles up, the cotton causing the coating of black hair to fluff up as it dried, and Michael went up and thoroughly dried the heavy limp cock with care, even retracting the foreskin and drying the fat knob before rising to his feet and finishing the job.

"I could get used to this," Mr. Oliva said as the towel was rubbed over his furry chest, and after he raised his arms the boy dutifully buffed the soggy tufts as well. "You must really like me after all."

"I guess," Michael admitted as he leaned forward and kissed the fresh smelling armpit. "You're a lot sexier when you're clean."