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When Stiles was fourteen years old, his parents got a divorce. The relationship had gotten to the point where every minute of every day seemed to be filled with heated arguments, screaming, and door slamming. As Stiles’ parents drifted apart and their marriage reached the final stage of complete disintegration, Stiles developed a heartfelt support for their decision to call it quits. It was too much to deal with.

Just a month before Stiles started eighth grade, the divorce between his parents had gotten finalized. Stiles’ mother handed full custody over Jonathan Stilinski and then skipped town to live somewhere on the east coast away from her ex-husband and her only son. John was left heartbroken that he couldn't manage to patch things up with his high-school sweetheart for Stiles’ sake, but Stiles wasn’t too distraught.

In fact, Stiles didn’t really mind the fact that she cut herself away from both his and his father’s lives. He had become so fed up with the constant arguments—most of which she seemed to always start—that he wanted to actually celebrate her leaving town and falling off the face of the Earth. She was toxic—something that both of the Stilinski guys were better off without. Stiles knew that somebody better would eventually fall into his father’s lap. And that’s exactly what happened.

A few years passed and Stiles had finally made it to the junior year of high school. After Stiles had finished his first day of the eleventh grade, John made sure to take the night off from his job and take Stiles out to a nice dinner at a newly opened restaurant in Beacon Hills. It was unexpected, which had made Stiles a bit suspicious. John never really liked going out to dinner. He would barely step foot into a shitty diner, let alone a fancy and expensive restaurant.

But when Stiles and John were led directly to a private dining room in the back of the restaurant, Stiles thought that maybe it was a surprise party or something. He figured that it had to be something important, so he readied himself for almost anything. But instead of a surprise party, Stiles and his father walked to the only occupied table in the room where a man stood to greet the both of them kindly.

Immediately, Stiles wanted to know who the complete stranger was. As both he and his father moved to take their seats, the man and John leaned in and kissed each other on the lips. It was right then and there that Stiles knew what was happening. His father was dating again…and, well…his father had chosen to reveal the news in the most dramatic soap opera way as possible.

Stiles wasn’t really surprised that his father was dating a guy. It was only just a tad bit weird because Stiles was also interested in guys—although he wasn’t yet out to anybody. He was still trying to get a complete understanding for who he was and why he liked guys. His father’s reveal only led Stiles to wonder if the whole thing was genetic or something.

And Stiles honestly couldn’t find a single problem with whatever reason his father’s eyes fell upon the mysterious stranger. The guy was a fucking Adonis and it kind of almost weirded Stiles out that he shared a “type” with his own dad. Although, he wanted to applaud his father’s ability to chose somebody that wasn’t an eyesore.

The stranger’s name was Derek Hale. He was a successful law firm executive who lived in Beacon Hills. He was in his late-thirties and looked like it in all of the right ways. His jet black hair was slightly graying on the sides and it made Stiles feel all kinds of ways. Derek’s stubbled face and body even put the utmost sexiest models to shame.

Stiles knew that he’d like having the new guy around and wanted things to work out. He wanted to say that it was because he wanted his father to be happy, but shamefully enough, it was for more selfish reasons. Stiles just wanted the hot hunk of older muscle trotting around his house. And all the hoping and lusting eventually paid off, because a few months after Stiles’ eighteenth birthday, Derek and John got married, bought a house, and started a life together.


Several months later


While normal eighteen year olds probably spent their days sleeping or playing video games, Stiles was interested in doing something a bit more…taboo. That was, jerking off to the thought of getting banged by his hot stepfather.

The interest practically began the moment that Stiles ever laid his eyes on Derek. When they met face-to-face back in that restaurant, something had sparked inside of Stiles. Everything about Derek seemed to get Stiles all hot and bothered. It didn’t help that he was sexually frustrated and a total virgin. Derek’s cut torso and biceps, the roughness to his voice, his firm ass, and his emerald eyes. Even the tiny details of the man quickly became Stiles’ favorite things to think about.

As time passed, Derek’s entrance into Stiles’ life seemed to be some sort of blessing. Although, Stiles wasn’t sure if the blessing was from a god or from some sort of lust demon. When his father had proposed and Derek had accepted, Stiles danced with joy. He felt bad that his feelings were divided and set aside on two different paths—one where he was happy for his father’s happiness, and one where he was happy that his living fantasy would cling around his life.

Stiles started to get more adventurous with his sexuality. He still hadn’t come out to his father. It wasn’t because he was scared of getting disowned or anything. It was just because he didn’t feel like it was the right time. He had all the time in the world and didn’t need to worry about coming out.

Masturbation was Stiles’ favorite thing in the world. Finding things to intensify his fantasies played hand-in-hand with almost everything he did throughout the day. Sometimes, Stiles would attempt to sneak peeks at Derek in the shower. His most frequent and successful way of feeding his fantasy was by finding pornos with performers that looked similar to Derek.

But none of that stuff compared to Stiles' newest and more daring idol of lewd worship…

Derek’s boxers.

Stiles knew that he was free to do as he wished when he heard the sound of Derek’s car engine start up. It was the weekend, which meant that both his father and his stepfather would be at work. Meanwhile, Stiles got to stay at home and enjoy having no school.

He also knew that he had as much time as he wanted to fuck around without being disturbed. And the time that Stiles watched Derek’s car pull out of the driveway and drive off, he had already begun to tug at his thickening erection through the tight fabric of his boxers.

Stiles ran into the master bedroom and into the master bathroom. Everything was still fogged up and steamy from the shower that Derek had taken. He always took a shower right before heading off to work. Sometimes Stiles liked to fantasize about Derek hurriedly rushing out of the bathroom without a towel. Oh, how wonderful it would be to watch Derek’s tanned body—all wet and sticky with warm condensation.

In the corner of the bathroom near the shower was a tall wicker hamper that was used to collect dirty clothes. Stiles opened the top of the hamper and pulled out the first piece of clothing that caught his eyes. It was a pair of Derek’s black boxer briefs. The same pair that looked so damn good on Derek’s fit body. It was the same pair that Stiles loved to envision Derek shooting his hot loads into in the midst of a wet dream—soaking the black fabric with a white gloss.

The pair of boxers felt dingy and worn out in Stiles’ hand because they had been previously worn and somewhat stretched out by Derek’s muscular waist. To Stiles’ best guess, the fabric had also soaked in a little bit of Derek’s excess sweat—leaving them a bit heavier than they’d usually be. And with a small inhale, Stiles was proudly able to confirm that they definitely had taken in the strong odor of Derek’s man musk.

With the pair of Derek’s boxers in his hand, Stiles left the bathroom and stepped back into the bedroom. He peeled off his own t-shirt and dropped his boxers to the carpeted ground. He loved the feeling of being completely naked in his house when he was all alone. It felt kinda bad…which only made it feel that much better.

Stiles flopped back down onto the bed and laid down with his head and upper back slightly elevated with the help of Derek’s pillows. He felt shameless. Getting naked in his stepfather’s room and laying on his bed wasn’t something that everybody did. If anybody knew, they’d probably freak. Yet, Stiles didn’t care. Everybody was at work and they’d never find out what went down in their absence.

Stiles spread his legs on the bed. He let his semi-hard cock drop down and rest against the bed comforter fabric. With one of his hands, he reached down to work over his cock with enthusiastic strokes. In his other hand, he held the pair of Derek’s boxers up to his nose.

The smell alone was enough to overload Stiles’ inner workings. The smell of Derek, the musk, the old sweat…the thought that maybe there was just a bit of pre-cum from Derek’s morning wood in the crotch of the boxers made Stiles’ body viciously shiver.

He started to stroke himself faster as his cock responded positively to the stimulation. Stiles felt himself grow thicker in the grasp of his warm hand. He felt himself get hotter, harder, and more sensitive as he dragged his thumb across the leaking slit of his cock head. Stiles closed his eyes and tried to imagine that they weren’t his hands. They were Derek’s. Derek’s big, burly hands—all rough and calloused from the week’s wear and tear.


Stiles started to let small and delicious moans spill from between his plush lips. He changed the speed of his strokes from faster to slower—attempting to prolong his inevitable orgasm. His mind was lost and completely disconnected from his surroundings. He felt like he was floating on a cloud of nothing but the sparks that tickled the deepest part of his body.

Heat coursed through his veins and the cool breeze from the room’s air conditioner allowed for a toe-curling twitch of pleasure. It got to the point where Stiles started to forget where he was. He had forgotten that he was on a bed and that he had Derek’s dirty boxers pressed snuggly against his face. He had gotten so carried away that he—

“Stiles!” A loud voice boomed from the threshold of the bedroom.

Stiles’ eyes immediately shot open and focused in the direction of the voice. His eyes fell deeply into a stunned gaze as they locked onto Derek’s body and eventually up to Derek’s perfect face. Derek looked utterly shocked and even somewhat angry. It was like his mind was stirring around ideas for all of the punishments to dish out to Stiles.

“Derek, I—” Stiles started. He grabbed a pillow from behind his head and used it to cover up his red and throbbing cock.

Derek stepped into the room and walked closer to where Stiles was laid out on the bed. “What the hell do you think that you’re doing in here? Are those my boxers?” He asked, ripping the pair of boxers out of Stiles’ hand.

“They’re just—”

“They’re the ones that I just threw into the hamper before I left. Are you seriously sitting in here and getting off to the smell of my cock? Are you fucking delusional, Stiles? Your father would stick you into therapy if he found out.”

“Yeah, but only if he found out.” Stiles innocently bit his lip. “I mean, come on. You’re not going to tell him about this. How could you? You’re married to him and if he found out that his son is imagining getting fucked by you…it probably wouldn’t go down very well.”

Derek scrunched up his eyebrows. “Are you threatening me, Stiles? You are my stepson and you’re out of your damn mind. Stand up, get dressed, and wash these sheets. I need to get back to work.”

“I always think about you when I jerk off.” Stiles shouted out, willing Derek to stop in his tracks towards the door. “I’d be hurt if you’ve never thought about me. Come on, you’re a guy. You like shoving your big cock in tight things. You can’t say the idea of fucking me doesn’t make you tingle just a little bit…that tingle right behind your balls…I know the feeling.”

Stiles paused and smiled when he saw Derek’s shoulders tense up under the dark violet shirt that he had on. He knew that his words were infecting Derek’s mind…and hopefully other parts of his body.

“This is fucking psychotic—”

“Look.” Stiles said, taking the pillow off of his cock. He gave it a good flex and ended up letting a bead of pre-cum drip tantalizingly slow down the shaft. “You’ve never even had a dream about me? You’ve never thought about what it’d be like to get me down on my knees and for you to stuff your cock down my throat? Or what about fucking my tight, little ass?”

Derek turned his body around—slightly hesitant, yet obviously interested. God, he was going straight to hell. Yeah, he was going straight down to the deepest part of hell for turning around to look.

Stiles wrapped his long fingers around the base of his cock and squeezed. “This is literally all because of you. I can’t stop getting off to the thought of you. I can’t help myself. I’m so fucking horny for you…all the time.”

“This is wrong.” Derek started.

It was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. The fact that Stiles thought about him in such a perverted way was totally wrong. The fact that Stiles was lying on his bed, completely naked, with his hand wrapped around his cock was even more wrong. But what the hell was he supposed to do?

Derek’s mind fluttered around as he tried to think of something to say. Half of his mind told him to run straight back to work and just forget about everything that happened. However, the other half of his mind felt compelled to give Stiles what he wanted. Derek was such a piece of shit for even thinking about it. He couldn’t cheat on his husband—especially not with Stiles.

“I can see you thinking about it.” Stiles bit back a moan as his hand worked over himself. “Your eyebrows do this cute little thing where they crease in the middle when you’re thinking long and hard about something…”

“Knock it off, Stiles.” Derek growled. “I’m not doing this with you. You need some fucking help. I’ll make sure that your father hears about the stunt you tried to pull.”

“I love my father, but I don’t want to see him get hurt.” Stiles said. “He doesn’t have to know about any of this. It can be just a nasty little secret between the both of us. I won’t tell him that I’ve been thinking about you for the longest time, and you won’t tell him that you fucked my tight virgin ass in a thousand different positions.”

Stiles’ words managed to strike Derek right in the place that he had managed to keep under control for the longest time. The simple words, “tight virgin ass” were enough to short circuit Derek’s mind and send his imagination bolting all over the place with vivid, X-rated imagery about Stiles.

Derek could feel his cock start to twitch in the tightness of his boxers and trousers. Within a few more seconds, he could feel his cock twitch even more, fattening up to complete hardness. He couldn’t control himself as his body seemed to prepare for what could happen next.

Stiles jumped up from the bed and stepped face-to-face with him. It caused Derek’s throat to go dry and for beads of sweat to accumulate on his forehead and on the back of his neck. His mind was frazzled with static confusion, but there was a twist of excitement mixed in there somewhere.

Stiles’ body was a dream. Despite the fact that he was rather thin, his muscles were toned in just the right places. A nice, fit frame that was perfect for jolting back and forth against a mattress or wall with harsh thrusts. Stiles had wonderfully broad shoulders which were perfect for holding onto. His waist was nice and toned, which meant that Derek could easily wrap his arms around it and keep him in place. But none of that could possibly compare to the soft ass that Stiles sported around the backside. It was perfect for grabbing, slapping, and fucking into.

Derek’s heart couldn’t help but jump at the thought.

“Holy shit…” Stiles whispered, reaching out to grasp the bulge in Derek’s grey trousers. He started to stroke it gently through the material, making Derek close his eyes at the touch. “I knew you’d be huge…holy fuck. I’m so hard for you, Derek. Please tell me that I can at least suck you off.”

Stiles’ seductive pleas only acted as fuel to Derek’s fire. Even though the right thing to do would have been to say “fuck no” and bolt back to work, the only thing that spilled from Derek’s lips was a lust-filled “fuck yes”.

The answer certainly made Stiles happy. He grinned ear-to-ear and dropped to his knees. His hands grabbed desperately for Derek’s brown leather belt and he started to unfasten it while Derek loosened the paisley tie that was wrapped around his neck.

Derek’s tie and the belt were tossed down to the floor in a heated hurry. As Stiles’ nibble fingers eagerly fiddled with the zipper of Derek’s trousers, Derek slipped his fingers into the wavy strands of Stiles’ hair. He tugged gently at Stiles’ hair and dragged his nails along his scalp, which only sent shivers down Stiles’ spine.

Stiles’ hair was so soft and untangled. It was already slightly dampened by the accumulation of sweat brought on by the sheer anticipation of the hot situation. Derek couldn’t blame him for it. The moment was indeed hot. It was easily sweat-worthy.

Eventually, Stiles got the zipper pulled down. He tugged Derek’s trousers down and let them settle around his ankles. He immediately pressed his mouth to the hardness that was not so hidden behind the soft cotton fabric of the boxers. Derek was hung like a fucking buck.

“Fuck, you’re so much bigger than I ever imagined.” Stiles mouthed wildly at Derek’s cock through the boxers—sucking at it until the material got noticeably wet. “I don’t know, man. Every time I looked over to your crotch, I never saw a bulge big enough to imagine this. I was starting to get a little discouraged. But, now…fuck. The world’s back in order.”

“You’ve stared at my crotch?” Derek asked, combing through Stiles’ sweaty hair.

Stiles stopped sucking and looked up to meet Derek’s perfect green eyes with his own amber ones. He smirked. “Can you really blame me? I needed something to think about when I beat off.”

Derek shoved Stiles’ face back down into his bulge and urged him to continue sucking. “You really are a horny little slut, aren’t you?” He asked with a laugh.

Stiles hooked his fingers into the elastic band of Derek’s boxers and pulled them down. Derek’s thick cock shot up—completely hard and ready to please. A stream of pre-cum oozed from the slit and fell down to splat against Stiles’ bare thigh. He wrapped his hand around Derek’s girth and took a moment to feel the meaty hardness in his palm.

Slowly, Stiles licked up the underside of Derek’s length. He carefully took time to savor the sharp tang of musk and to map out the large vein of Derek’s cock with the surface of his tongue. Once Stiles got his tongue on the slit, the salty taste of pre-cum shot across his taste buds and made him salivate. He flicked his tongue and softly nursed on the fat head, smirking to himself as he held Derek’s cock in his hand like a bottle of beer.

Derek couldn’t take the slowness of Stiles’ teasing tongue. His cock continued to involuntarily twitch and flex. The slick drag across his throbbing cockhead was way too much to simply take. If Stiles kept up his technique, then Derek would bust. And Derek wasn’t anywhere close to getting finished with Stiles.

Without warning, Derek took everything a step further and pushed his cock past Stiles’ perfect pursed lips. With one hand firmly planted on the back of the teenager’s head, Derek’s other hand softly caressed the side of Stiles’ face and his jaw-line. He watched Stiles’ eyes spark up with light and excitement.

“Ah, fuck.” Derek started to thrust into the warm wetness of Stiles’ mouth. “Keep going, Stiles. I want to hear you choke on my cock.”

Stiles hummed in acceptance to Derek’s demand and worked faster at taking his stepfather down his throat. His tongue impatiently punished the leaking slit of Derek’s cock. Stiles remained very eager to pull another spurt of pre-cum from the pulsating length. He tried pushing his tongue into the hole, and with that, came success. He was rewarded with another taste of the bitter liquid.

As Stiles bobbed up and down on Derek’s cock, he let out muffled moans and small chokes. The sounds from deep down in Stiles’ throat sent vibrations through Derek’s thickness and electrified his spine with pleasure. The fact that Stiles’ sounds were the result of Derek’s own cock made him want to give Stiles even more.

Derek looked down to Stiles.

Stiles just looked so beautiful with his mouth wrapped tightly around a fat cock. For a virgin, Stiles sure knew what the hell he was supposed to do. Derek figured that a cockslut like Stiles probably picked up a few tricks from porn…or from his wild imagination. But wherever the tricks came from, they were good ones. They were ones that Derek didn’t want Stiles to ever stop doing.

Derek pulled his cock out from Stiles’ throat, leaving Stiles with nothing but a whimper and saliva hanging on his lips. He grasped Stiles by the underarms and yanked him up to stand. He pressed his lips to Stiles’ in a heated kiss.

Stiles’ stomach flipped when he felt Derek’s tongue thrash around with his own. Derek’s lips were so soft and his mouth was hot. He tasted so damn good. Stiles could even taste a faint hint of the mint mouthwash that Derek used after he brushed his teeth in the morning. It was Stiles’ first real kiss and it was everything he had hoped that it would be—hot and desperate, whilst stealing each other’s breaths.

Derek pulled off of Stiles’ mouth and caught the teen’s bottom lip in-between his teeth. He tugged seductively with a smirk. “So beautiful.” He whispered and reached around the boy’s body to slap his plump ass as hard as he could.


“Get on the bed. Hands and knees. Face the wall and stick that hot little ass out for me, Stiles. I want to eat you out.”

Stiles just nodded in blind compliance and turned around. He got onto the bed and into the position that Derek had ordered. He looked back behind himself and watched Derek idly stroke himself as he stepped out of his boxers and trousers. Stiles was so anxious for Derek to rim him that he began to slowly hump the air—spreading his legs ever so slightly to give Derek a peek at his puckered entrance.

From where he stood, Derek could see the enticing, blushed hole peeking out from in-between Stiles’ round ass cheeks. Dammit, he wanted it. He wanted it so bad. He wanted to taste, to touch, and to be the first person to wreck Stiles’ hole.

“Are you going to just stand there and jerk off, or are you going to come over here and taste me?” Stiles called out. He brought back one of his own hands and gently slid his fingers down his crack to the place where he wanted Derek’s tongue to be.

Stiles eventually felt the bed dip down behind him. He knew that Derek was about to shove his tongue right inside him. Stiles’ body shook with anticipation. He had always wanted to get rimmed. It was something that always managed to turn him on when he watched porn and now it was something that he’d get to experience. It only excited Stiles more because he knew that it would be Derek’s tongue in his ass.

Stiles threw his head back and moaned out into the air of the room just as soon as he felt the heat of Derek’s tongue press into his hole. At first, Derek gave short and timid licks at the blushed entrance. But when Stiles grew bolder and pushed his ass further back into Derek’s face and Derek gladly took the message.

Derek shoved his tongue deeper into Stiles’ tightness. Stiles loved absolutely everything about it. He jolted forward and nearly twitched when Derek gently tugged at the delicate skin near his entrance with the dullness of his front teeth. He swore that Derek had way too much practice. It made Stiles wonder for a moment.

“You taste so good, Stiles.” Derek rasped and then went back to the rimjob.

“I need something more, Derek.” Stiles begged, gripping his hands into the bed sheets. His cock remained hard and flushed in-between his legs. He wanted Derek to touch him, though. He needed some sort of stimulation. He needed something more than just a hot tongue fucking into him.

Just as Stiles decided to grind down into the bedsheets, Derek slid two of his thick fingers into the slickness of Stiles’ hole. Stiles almost screamed out as they drove inwards. He had only ever experimented with his own fingers before and while his own fingers were incredibly long and extremely pleasurable, Derek’s fingers were thicker—more filling.

“I knew you’d be tight, but—fuck. You’re tighter than your father. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to take your ass.” Derek snickered and pushed his fingers deeper into Stiles, searching around for the teen’s prostate.

Stiles started to mindlessly push back and forth on the fingers that prodded around inside of him. The realization that his stepfather was fingering him was a lot to take in, and shit, even though Stiles had fantasized about it happening nearly a thousand times, he had never actually thought that it’d happen in reality. Who knew that Derek would be so willing with a little persuasion?

“Just—fuck me already, goddammit!” Stiles yelled. His voice was raspy with lust and desperation.

“Such a little slut...” Derek breathed and pulled his fingers from Stiles’ ass. “I wish you could see what a sexy little cockslut you are for me right now, Stiles. Bucking down on my fingers and clenching down around them so hard because you don’t want your hole to be empty again.”

“Please.” Stiles groaned.

“You want my fat cock in your ass, Stiles?” Derek asked. His hand came down hard across Stiles’ ass with a loud smack—leaving a red handprint on the pale skin.

“Mmhmm.” Stiles mumbled and wiggled his ass up higher in the air for better access on Derek’s end.

Derek slapped Stiles’ ass harder, which made Stiles jump and whimper. “Spread those legs for me, Stiles.” Derek demanded—undoing the buttons on his shirt. He took it off and threw it down to the ground beside the bed.

Stiles followed Derek’s directions and spread his legs wider. He could feel the handprint from Derek’s slap scorching on his ass cheek, but it felt great. It did nothing but turn Stiles on even more. And as a result, his cock started to pulsate much more than it had been. He had barely even touched himself all morning, but there he was, about to cum.

The backs of Stiles’ ears flushed red with heat when he heard the snap of a bottle cap close. It was lubricant. Stiles could admit that he felt a tiny ping of worry settle deep within his stomach when he took in the thought of Derek tearing his ass up with the sledgehammer of a cock that he had.

The worry eventually dissipated and was only replaced with excitement and arousal as Stiles felt the blunt head of Derek’s cock rub along his hole. Stiles’ body heat skyrocketed as his lust for Derek intensified. His toes curled at the thought and as soon as he was about to yell for Derek to hurry the fuck up, Derek pushed in.

“Oh my—fuck…fuck!” Stiles babbled. His arms gave out and his chest fell flat against the mattress while his ass stayed up in Derek’s control.

Derek pressed inwards even more with his cock and watched the tight rim of Stiles’ hole stretch and swallow his girth. Lube oozed out around his length as Derek pulled back and then pushed right back in. He used too much, but he didn’t want to savagely injure Stiles. The last thing that Derek needed was John questioning the reason as to why his own son had a peculiar limp.

As Derek’s thrusts into Stiles’ hole grew faster and harder, his pelvis slammed into Stiles’ backside. Derek watched as his thrusts made the teenager’s ass bounce with each impact and the sight of that alone made Derek want to blow his load.

Stiles couldn’t keep the moans from leaving his lips as Derek fucked into him. He felt so full with Derek’s cock being so deep inside. It felt like he was getting split in two, but he didn’t care. It felt so good and he didn’t want Derek to ever stop.

Stiles’ cock ached with need for a touch. He reached down in-between his legs and with one of his hands, grabbed himself. As Derek relentlessly destroyed his ass, Stiles tugged at his own hardness. Each thrust from behind seemed to force a weak stream of pre-cum out from his cock and onto the bedspread beneath his body.

“Fuck me harder, daddy.” Stiles bit his lip and looked back at Derek.

Derek’s face was undoubtedly the hottest thing that Stiles had seen. There was so much determination and focus mixed into the pure lust that was plastered on his face. Stiles loved the way that Derek’s jaw clenched and loved watching Derek’s chest and biceps flex every time he speared Stiles back onto his cock.

Stiles watched the tanned muscle bounce and watched droplets of sweat stream down Derek’s magnificent body. The hair on Derek’s chest and stomach were darkened by perspiration, and part of Stiles wanted to turn around and lick it all up. But the other part of Stiles was far too lost in getting his prostate properly destroyed.

The moment that Stiles started to feel his own orgasm really kick up in his balls, Derek stopped thrusting into him. At first, Stiles was confused. But when Derek pulled out of him and laid himself back onto the bed, Stiles kind of grasped the presented idea.

“Come here, baby. You’re going to ride my cock like a dirty little slut, okay? Spear yourself on it for me.” Derek said.

Stiles climbed on top of Derek’s sweat slicked body and straddled his muscular, hairy thighs. With his backside faced towards Derek’s face, Stiles lowered himself down onto Derek’s cock. His hole was stretched out by the previous rough treatment, so impaling himself down onto the girthy beast wasn’t as much as a challenge as before.

Stiles began to move himself on Derek’s length. The new position brought Stiles more pleasure as it gave Derek the better advantage of pounding into Stiles’ prostate.

Before Stiles could even begin to move himself on Derek’s length, Derek sat up from his horizontal position and slicked his chest up against Stiles’ backside. It made it so that Stiles was basically sitting in Derek’s lap—on his cock—and Derek wanted nothing more than to take advantage of the tight piece of ass that encased his throbbing cock.

Derek reached one of his arms around Stiles’ waist and locked him into place against the front of his chest. With his other hand, Derek reached around and wrapped his hand around Stiles’ throat. Before Stiles could make the slightest of sound, Derek started to pull Stiles down onto his cock in a wrathful manner.

Stiles’ moans were distorted with vibration as he body was forcefully pulled up and down in a rabbit-paced manner. All he could do was close his eyes tight and let his jaw slack open whilst Derek stabbed into his prostate over and over and over again—driving the boy to the brink of pleasured madness.

“Take it. Take me.” Derek grunted, pressing his mouth to the back of Stiles’ sweaty neck. “Ride me like a good slut.”

“Fu—fuck, Der—ek.” Stiles managed. “F—fuc—fuck me.”

The vicious pace of Derek’s thrusts sent Stiles’ body into a frenzy. His mind was overloaded with pleasure and he couldn’t think nor comprehend the level of ecstasy that his body was receiving with each punishing thrust. Derek’s cock continued to assault his prostate each and every time and Stiles could barely describe the experience.

Stiles' cock almost painfully spit a thick load onto his upper chest and to various places on the bedsheets around him as his body continued to get thrashed around. He let out a  sound—some sort of mix between a scream and moan, and it only turned Derek. And as Stiles’ cock stopped spewing hot cum, his body fell limp into Derek’s herculean hold.

“I’m going to cum, Stiles.” Derek spoke breathlessly. “I’m going to breed your tight little ass so full with my load. You want that, don’t you?”

Derek’s pace didn’t skip a beat. He continued to thrust wildly into Stiles’ hole and refused to loosen his grasp on Stiles’ body. He fucked harder and rougher and jostled Stiles’ lithe body around like he was some kind of wasted, cum-covered ragdoll. Stiles enjoyed it immensely.

In an instance, Derek’s grip on Stiles’ body tightened. He stilled and grunted madly into Stiles’ ear as his hips gave short, aborted thrusts into Stiles’ hole. Derek pulled Stiles’ neck back and started to suck passionately on the sweaty skin as his cock painted his stepson’s inner walls with a stream of thick cum. He sat there and let every last drop of his seed fill Stiles’ hole while he let himself climb down from the intense high.

Eventually, Derek slowly pulled Stiles up and off of his softening cock and set him aside on the bed. He climbed over Stiles’ body and hopped off of the bed—staring down at the wrecked body before him. He smiled and leaned down to kiss and suck Stiles’ cum-stained chest. It tasted great and Derek wanted it all.

“Mmmm.” Derek moaned. He pulled himself off of Stiles’ chest and quickly locked lips with Stiles instead.

Stiles groaned into the kiss. He could taste himself on Derek’s lips and tongue and it was the best thing in the world. He was so used to just tasting himself, but for some reason it tasted so much better when it was sucked off of another person’s tongue. More specifically speaking, Derek’s tongue.

Derek finished the kiss with a grunt and pulled off. He looked down at his own body—taking in the fact that he was only wearing his silver watch, black dress socks, and leather shoes. His cock was still semi-thick and he could only think about what he had just finished doing. It felt great.

“I’m going to need you to clean this up. Wash the sheets and remake the bed. I was only supposed to come back and grab my suitcase…but I got distracted.” Derek explained, picking up his clothes.

“Well, it’s a good thing that you forgot it and had to come back. You would have missed out on all of this if you had been a good boy and remembered to take it.” Stiles smirked and used his fingers to smear around Derek’s cum that continued to gush out of his hole in large amounts.

Derek grinned. He put on his shirt, tie, and trousers, but kept his boxers off. He quickly wiped down his dick with the pair and boxers and tossed them over to Stiles. “When you finish cleaning up, you can get off with that pair.”

“Can’t we just do something like this again? I’d rather get off to the feeling of your dick up my ass instead of sniffing your dirty laundry and fingering myself.” Stiles got off of the bed to stand.

Derek buttoned up his collar and tightened his tie. “We’ll do this again. That ass is mine and I’ve just barely broken it in. Just—don’t tell your father.”

He pat Stiles gently on the cheek, grabbed his suitcase, and shipped off to work.