Good Boy For Him

Step-Asshole

Dawson breathes quick and loud breaths against Wesley's mouth. His wide eyes stare into Wesley's, begging for a release.

"P-Please, Daddy!" Dawson pleads, his voice whiny and soft. "I'm so close!"

Wesley leans down to press a smiley kiss to Dawson's cheek. "I know, baby. But just last a few minutes longer and then you can cum."

Dawson whimpers but nods.

Wesley hurries his thrusts, noting the glazed look in Dawson's fluttering eyes. He makes little hip movements in a figure eight motion to try to change it up enough to bring Dawson back to full consciousness. Dawson just breathes out a light moan, wrapping his legs around Wesley's waist to pull him closer.

"P-Please..." Dawson whispers, his voice so quiet compared to the sound of Wesley's hips smacking against his own.

Wesley leans down again, kissing Dawson's open mouth. Against the bruised lips, Wesley orders, "Cum, my pretty little slut."

Dawson whines, high pitched and pained. "F-Fuck!" He cries out, tears running down his face. "Daddy! I-It hurts!"

Wesley pulls Dawson up into an embrace as he releases his own semen, filling Dawson's abused hole up.

"So... Same time next week?"

Dawson rolls his eyes and mutters with a fond smile, "Dork."

Wesley pulls him in by the waist, staring down at him with mischievous eyes. "Watch it, baby."

Dawson can't do anything but blush and stare up at Wesley, his back pushed against the door frame. He opens his mouth to say something witty but gets cut off by an unfamiliar voice.

"Who's your friend?"

Wesley pulls back, pulling Dawson behind him. His mouth sputters open as he stammers, "Uh, Jackson... I didn't know you were home yet."

The man, Jackson, is much taller than Wesley, much more built, much more... Dawson's usual type. He has broad shoulders that are shown off by the sweaty tank top clinging to his pecs. His hair, it's dark and messy. His eyes, also dark. Dawson feels as if he could have one more fuck left in him if it were by that guy.

"Just got here." Jackson replies, his eyes setting on where Dawson is almost completely covered by Wesley's body. "Now answer my question. Who's he?"

Wesley glares at Jackson, "He was just leaving."

"Does your mother know you're bringing some kid to our humble home and fucking him? Hmm? I assume you're fucking him, that is. He's definitely your type."

"What does that mean?" Dawson speaks up, pushing past Wesley.

Jackson smirks down at Dawson, licking his lips seductively. "Submissive."

Dawson lunges toward Jackson, being quickly yanked back by Wesley. Wesley holds him close to his own body as Dawson shouts, "Come at me, bitch! See who's submissive after that, huh?" Wesley drags him out of the kitchen, pulling him to the front door. Once outside, Wesley lets go of Dawson. "Who was that?"

"My stepbrother." Wesley answers, still looking bitterly toward the house. "Just, don't talk to him."

"I could take him."

"As much confidence that I have in your street-fighting skills, you can't take Jackson in a fight."

"Why?"

Wesley breathes out some frustrated air, "Just cause, Dawson! Now go home!" Dawson, for a reason he can't explain, feels hurt by Wesley snapping at him. He lowers his head, still, he doesn't know why. "I'm sorry," Wesley murmurs, reaching up to caress Dawson's jaw. "I just, I don't want you around Jackson. He's an asshole and all he does is hurt people." He leans forward, grazing his lips against Dawson's ear. "Just don't forget who your daddy is, and I'll keep you all to myself."

Dawson reaches up, holding onto Wesley's shirt to pull him even closer. "Don't worry about me, Daddy. But, he's been watching us from the window behind me this entire time."

Wesley pulls back, his eyes narrowed down at Dawson. He looks past Dawson's head, spotting the window that his stepbrother has been watching them from. He scowls at Jackson, purposely yanking Dawson close by his waist and burying his face in Dawson's neck.

When he pulls back, a big dark hickey is left. Dawson just laughs and pushes Wesley away, starting his walk home.