This is a continuation of an older story of mine, one I never got around to posting, because it never got completely finished. That said, I thought this next portion was worth sharing! The first six parts can be found here:
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Max woke up, naked, lying in a king sized poster bed, in the middle of a room approximately the size of half his apartment. He had absolutely no idea where he was. He threw off the sheets and scrambled up, wracking his brain. The day before, he could remember saving his job, he could remember talking with Mr. Herman about who to fire, and then he’d come home, and Junior had been here, and he’d fucked him. Finally fucked his hot stepson in his young ass, and fuck it had felt good, so fucking good. He grabbed his cock, and gave it a stroke, remembering how it had grown, seven inches of thick cock, but none of this should matter, he shouldn’t be thinking about Junior he should be trying…trying to figure out where he is.
But he knew where he was. He was home–his home. He had never seen this room before in his life, but he knew it was the master bedroom of his very large home in a gated community, where he lived with his stepson Junior. He knew that he could afford the mortgage because he was no longer a low level manager, but rather Vice President of Human Resources. It couldn’t be true, Things like this didn’t just happen overnight, and yet here he was, wriggling his toes into the carpet of his massive bedroom, admiring the broad windows overlooking a beautifully manicured backyard and pool surrounded by a high sturdy fence and thick foliage for ample privacy. His kingdom. His own private estate. His, and his stepson’s, and no one else’s.
He felt a strange rush in him, at that realization. An odd satisfaction, a pride that felt alien to him. He’d always felt good about himself, for being a man of modest means and simple taste, easily satisfied, but suddenly, looking out at this place, there was voice clamoring in him for more. He had more than he could ever need, but was it enough? He turned away from the window, suddenly finding it a bit hard to breathe. What was all of this? How could any of this have even happened? He wanted it, he knew that, he was glad for it, but…but should he want it? Would he have wanted it a few days ago?
Then, a more important question occurred to him–shouldn’t he be at work right now? He’d talked to…Mr. Herman yesterday–Wednesday–even though that felt like a past life. Shouldn’t it be Thursday? He grabbed his phone–it was already ten in the morning. With a panicked rush, he ran around the room opening doors until he found a walk-in closet stuffed with suits much more expensive than anything he’d ever owned previously, pulled one out and started getting dressed. He had underwear and pants half on when the door opened, and a completely naked Junior stepped into the room, and looked at him quizzically. “Daddy? What are you doing? It’s Saturday.”
Max stared at him. “Saturday? But…but yesterday was Wednesday, and I have to meet…Mr. Herman, we have to discuss Julian, the…the patents…”
“Oh Daddy, don’t worry about that! I took care of it for you. In fact, I took care of a lot of things for you, as you can see.” Junior crossed the room to where Max was, pulled the shirt from his hand and examined it for wrinkles. “I do hate it when people make me dance hard for my job, you know, but I must say it is always so much more satisfying when they finally give in. And you gave a whole lot, much more than I ever expected.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“Daddy, it’ll be a bit hard to adjust I know, but I did it all for you–for us. So we can be happy. Now get those pants off–I’ll have Jules iron them for you this afternoon. For now, let’s find you something more comfortable to wear, and then it’s time for breakfast.”
Max tried to protest, tried to pry a more coherent explanation from his stepson, but Junior seemed more interested in clothing, sifting through the closet until he settled on a set of red silk pajamas which he cajoled Max into. The fabric felt amazing, but not nearly as amazing as Junior’s hands on his chest. He leaned in and tried to kiss him, but Junior stopped him with a finger. “Now now, we can’t get started with that just yet, or we’ll never get out of the bedroom today.”
“Would that…really be a bad thing?” Max asked, running his hands over Junior’s shoulders.
“”Oh, but Jules has put so much effort into breakfast, I’d simply hate for him to have wasted it. He does so admire you–not partaking would be rather rude, you know.”
Jules–Junior had mentioned that name several times now, but he still had no idea who he was talking about. He tried to ask, but the question was forgotten with a short, but intense kiss shared between them, as Junior buttoned on the silk shirt. Then he broke away, fetched a pair of leather loafers, Max slid his feet into them, and he followed his naked stepson out of the bedroom and into the house proper.
It was…big. That was the fact that kept occurring to him, as they moved down the hallway lined with guest rooms, a study, a small library, down a curved staircase to the ground floor, where he was finally able to smell and hear food cooking in the kitchen–however, they didn’t go to the kitchen–Junior led him to the dining room instead, where the long oak table which could seat twelve had two settings at one end. He took his place at the head; Junior poured him a mimosa, and then whisked off to the kitchen to see whether Jules was ready. He only had a moment to marvel at the opulence of the room, before Junior opened the door and a young man, no older than twenty-two or twenty-three strode into the room carrying a covered platter, wearing nothing other than a neon green jockstrap. Max was facing the door, and all he could do was stare, his jaw agape at the young man striding across the room, his eyes glued to the young man’s crotch, bouncing to and fro as he set the platter down in front of the two settings. “Good morning, sir,” Jules said with a giggle, “Glad to see someone was able to…rouse you this morning.”
Bracken's Corner 