Here’s the entirety of Taboo Night-Time Affair: The Black Cop Stepman, a hot story by Otto Van Raunchenhausen! It’s part of the Taboo Night-Time Affair series, all of which is in Kindle Unlimited!
Ian woke up just as the fight was getting really bad. He heard his mother scream, “Don’t you talk to me like that, asshole!”, and it was her voiceless shout of anger that actually woke Ian. Then there was a loud bang as though she had thrown something at Daddy Travis and hit the wall. Whatever it was shattered.
“I tol’ you I’d be late!”
“You promised you wouldn’t work this late anymore! You promised!”
“I know, but-“
“No buts! When you promise me something, I expect you to follow through! You bastard! You can sleep on the couch!”
“It’s too small…” his voice trailed off as she slammed the door shut. He sighed loudly and walked away.
Ian felt a guilty sense of relief. He had come to like Daddy Travis in the years since he married Ian’s mother, but it was difficult to overcome first impressions. He had hated his stepfather for so long he still enjoyed it when Daddy Travis got in trouble. He got a vicarious sense of satisfaction out of hearing Mama yell at him because Ian had wanted to yell at him for a long time.
The floorboards creaked as Daddy Travis went out to the living room. The police radio he always wore crackled into life, but the dispatcher wasn’t speaking to him. Ian heard him wait motionless in the living room. He must have considered sleeping on the couch, then decided against it — that wasn’t surprising, since he was much taller than the couch was long. He’d probably sleep on the floor, which was something he had done before.
But much to Ian’s surprise, that isn’t what he did. Daddy Travis slid the door open to Ian’s bedroom. He stood there in the dark as though waiting to see if Ian was awake.
Ian lifted his head. “Travis?”
He came in and nodded. He began unbuttoning his uniform shirt. “Is it okay if I sleep in here wit’ you? Yo’ mama and me… we’s havin’ a fight.” He had light brown skin that was smooth, marked with only a few tattoos, most prominently the symbol of his police department on his neck. The lean muscles of his toned body writhed in the moonlight as he came over to the bed and took off his boots. “I don’t wanna sleep on the floor, Ian, it hurts my back somethin’ fierce.”
Ian nodded and said yes. It seemed Daddy Travis had assumed the answer was yes anyway; he didn’t wait for Ian to agree. He sighed loudly as he sat on the edge of the bed.
Though he had unbuttoned his uniform shirt, he didn’t take it off. He just sighed and dropped onto his back on the bed. He laid there for a moment, motionless and quiet except for his loud breathing, on the covers and next to Ian. The smell of beer was heavy on his breath, and he burped loudly.
“Niggas don’t get drunk, Ian,” he said. He didn’t elaborate on that. His voice sounded slurred though — he was drunk, at least a little bit.
“You shouldn’t break your promises to Mom,” Ian said.
“Don’t you start on me too,” he said with a sigh. “Don’t you get it? I keep this town safe-“
“You’re not the only cop.”
“I know, but I’m the best,” he said. Ian could hear the smile in his voice. “I feel like this town might fall apart if I don’t do everything I can to fix it.”
“You’re not gonna wipe out crime, Travis. You can’t fix everything,” Ian said..
“You don’t understand, nigga, I came from the ghetto. I can’t just abandon-“ he paused and laughed. “Did I just call you my nigga?”
Ian giggled and nodded. “You do that when you’re drunk,” he said. He scooted closer to Daddy Travis, so close he could smell the sweat clinging to the shirt he had taken off but still lay on top of. As soon as he moved closer, Daddy Travis stopped laughing, and Ian blushed, wondering if he had embarrassed himself.
“You knew Robert Winchell?”
“Robbie? Yeah. We went to high school together.”
“Oh. I arrested him tonight. He’s a meth dealer,” Daddy Travis said.
“Oh. Wow. Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Ian said. Robbie had always been a trashy white thug, so if he had had to pick one person he went to high school with who started selling meth, that’s who it’d be.
“You hang out with him?”
“No! We ended up at the same parties sometimes, but we didn’t hang out. He was always smoking weed with the potheads out back,” Ian said. He didn’t mention that he was usually smoking weed there too.
“Good. Don’t mess around with that stuff, Ian.”
“I don’t! I don’t do meth, I barely even drink,” Ian said. He found that his body had scooted closer to Daddy Travis’. It wasn’t really deliberate, it was just the weight of his stepfather’s body on the mattress weighed it down, pushing Ian closer to him. Ian didn’t mind. He loved his stepfather’s musky, coconut butter smell. His hand was touching Travis’ thigh through his jeans, which sent a shiver of sexual anticipation up Ian’s spine.
After a long, awkward silence, Travis cleared his throat and said, “I know you… Uh… Look…. You can tell me anything, you know. And yo’ mama is gonna love you no matter what.”
“I know.” Ian’s voice trembled, unsure what his stepfather was trying to say.
“She don’t care that you’re gay,” he said.
Another long pause filled the room. Ian wasn’t out of the closet. He had just started visiting gay bars and had briefly had a sort-of boyfriend. He had never had sex before. But as far as his mother was concerned, he was straight.
“It’s okay, neither do I,” he said. “My partner saw you at the Dirty Dancer.”
“Oh. I thought I ducked out in time,” Ian said quietly, avoiding Travis’ intense stare. Last time he had been at the Dirty Dancer, the cops showed up when a fight broke out. Ian had managed to escape out the back door, worried that Daddy Travis or one of his coworkers would recognize Ian. Apparently he hadn’t been sneaky enough.
“You can tell yo’ mama whenever you’s ready,” Travis said. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around Ian’s prone body, his warm muscles and inviting chest sending a thrill of arousal through Ian’s sleepy mind. He stirred and again scooted closer to his stepfather, the edges of his police badge pressing into Ian’s shoulder. “You a virgin?”
Ian hesitated before answering. “Yes.”
His voice soft and weak as though nearly asleep, Daddy Travis murmured, “You wanna me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” he said without giving it a moment’s thought. He gulped. He had never really acknowledged how much Daddy Travis turned him on, though he always had, from the moment Mama introduced him. Ian had masturbated dreaming of this exact scenario on many occasions. He loved the way Daddy Travis’ muscular chest barely fit in his uniform shirt, biceps bulging against the seams, broad shoulders straining within the fabric. When he was off, he walked around the house in his boxers, slung low so his ass was slightly visible, the big bulge in his crotch attracting Ian’s attention and making it hard to concentrate. He wore a jockstrap with a cup most days because perps had kicked him in the balls on many occasions, so even in his uniform slacks, his mouth-watering bulge was apparent. That was what he still wore now, and since he lay on his back, the bulge was even more prominent than usual. Ian’s arms felt weak with anxiety and self-consciousness, since he was so skinny, bulgeless and twig-limbed compared to Daddy Travis’ gym-toned muscles.
“Whatchoo wanna do?” Daddy Travis said, reclining on his back as though to suggest his body was open for Ian. “You can go to town, boy… Y’ain’t gonna tell yo’ mama, right?”
“Good,” he said. “We gonna fuck on the downlow.” His body twitched as Ian awkwardly placed one hand on his chest, feeling his muscles beneath his shirt. His pecs were softball-sized rocks beneath Ian’s fingers; he had never felt muscle like this before, except on the few occasions Daddy Travis hugged him. His fingers crept to Travis’ nipples. Travis groaned. “You know what downlow means?”
“Kinda,” Ian said. His hand moved lower and lower until it slipped under Daddy Travis’ uniform slacks. His belt was loose so Ian’s fingers crept in easily, to the moist and warm hairy nest of his crotch. Ian had an idea of what downlow meant, but only because he had heard the black kids talk about it in the locker room, laughing and accusing each other of being on the downlow. Ian had no idea what it meant then, he just knew it turned him on, and he gathered the gist of it the longer he stayed there sneaking glances at their naked bodies.
“It means what happens in the dark, stays in the dark,” Daddy Travis said. “I’m a little drunk anyway. It don’t count in the dark. It don’t count if you’s drunk. It don’t count if you’s family. It don’t count in jail neither, but that one don’t apply here. Ya understand? Girls never get that. Sex is always an emotional thing for them. It always counts, as far as they’re concerned.” He scoffed. “Bitches!”
“Yeah…” Ian said, his mind too distant to pay attention. His fingers touched Travis’ dick, which was hot and veiny, throbbing as it grew hard beneath his grasp. Ian had touched cocks before, but it was never as sexy as this; he had never touched a black man either, and he wondered if the slick, vascular smoothness of the shaft was characteristic of black men. The handful of gay white men he had shared handjobs with were more clammy and spongy even when hard, but Daddy Travis felt sexier and harder even before he was erect.
He unzipped Travis’ slacks and pulled his dick out of his pants. He gave it a stroke and moved his head lower and lower. He hesitated, then let his mouth encircle the tip.
Having never tasted cock before but having fantasized about it many times a day since he was a middle-schooler, Ian was turned on instantly by the flavor. He moaned exquisitely and moved his head lower.
Soon his nose was ensconced in the kinky pubic hair of Daddy Travis’ crotch, which smelled of soap and black man’s musk. Ian inhaled deeply of the scent, his dick spasming inside the boxers he slept in. His hands roamed over Travis’ trunk-like thighs and the smooth muscles of his chest.
Daddy Travis took his shirt the rest of the way off and guided his head up and down. His dick turned hard in Travis’ mouth. The flavor of his masculine meat was so spicy and so pungent it brought tears to Ian’s eyes as his veiny shaft pulsated between Travis’ lips.
Much to Ian’s surprise, Daddy Travis didn’t act like what he assumed a straight man would in this scenario. He didn’t just lean back and let his dick leak precum down Ian’s throat. Instead, his hands roamed from Ian’s smooth back down to his ass and even into his crotch. He stroked Ian’s dick to full erection.
Ian wondered how common this was for him — was Daddy Travis on the downlow all the time? His friend and partner, the only other black cop in town, was named Winston, and he was a burly, hairy sheriff; the thought of them awkwardly fumbling with each other in the dark made Ian shudder with desire. He wanted to watch that more than anything.
They both jumped, startled, when the radio flickered into life. It was still attached to Travis’ pants on the ground.
Dispatch to Unit Eighteen.
Travis groaned. “He’ll remember I’m off-duty now, in a second.” He and Ian remained still and silent as though if they made a sound, the dispatcher would know where Travis was and make him come back to work.
Dispatch to Unit Eighteen. Where you at, Travis?
He dropped his arm to the ground and fished around for the radio. He pulled the entire pair of pants up along with it and spoke into the receiver. Ian kept his mouth on Daddy Travis’ dick the whole time, even as he spoke into the radio.
“This is Unit Eighteen, Dispatch. I’m off now. I’m at home. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
Oh. An emergency caller is requesting you.
“Is it Sheila Brandon?”
Yes it is.
“She’s crazy, Jim. She thinks black folk can’t be replaced by reptilian doppelgängers, that’s why she wants me,” Travis said. He closed his eyes and leaned back, his cock pulsating deep in Ian’s throat.
Well, she was throwing bottles at Scotty.
“She don’t like white people. Send Rizzer over. He’s dark-skinned. Tell him to pretend he’s a real light-skinned ni… African American,” he said, censoring himself since he was speaking on a public band. “She’ll believe that. She’s kinda stupid too. Stupid and crazy, the Alabama double-whammy.”
She said she’ll only talk to you. She said she’ll keep throwing stuff at anyone who comes to her door, until she talks to you again.
“Then she’ll have to wait until five o’clock tomorrow, Jim. Leave me alone. I’m going to sleep,” Travis said. “Or whatever, have Scotty tase her or ask her out on a date or hire a lady-boxer to take her down or he could just wear a helmet. I don’t care, as long as you don’t get me involved. I’m off now. I’m trying to spend some quality time with my wife, and you are not invited, Jim.” He held on to Ian’s head as he fed his dick down deeper. It got even harder as he talked, as though either frustration or subterfuge made him horny. He groaned, cockmeat spasming in Travis’ mouth.
Fine. Ten-four. Love you, Travvie-Wavvie.
“I hate that fucker,” Travis said to Ian as he dropped the radio to the ground. “Goddamn honky. Your family is cool, Ian. Jim at dispatch is a fuckin’ honky.”
Ian giggled around Travis cock. He licked down the shaft, tracing the track of a bulging vein as he went. The flavor of Travis’ manhood grew more intense the lower he went, the more his scent moved from clean soap to masculine musk.
Moving on pure instinct now, not worrying about whether he was doing this right, Ian moved to mount his stepfather. He placed his legs on either side of Daddy Travis’ hips and put their cocks together. Travis’ meat was hot as fire, and as solid as steel. Ian felt cold and insubstantial in comparison, and his skinny body jerked in stark contrast to Daddy Travis’ bulky frame, which flexed sinuously as pleasure overwhelmed them both.
Travis jerked and spasmed like he was uncomfortable with their cock-on-cock contact, then sighed as their precums mixed, running down their shared shafts and Ian’s hands. The sensation of creamy fluid lubricating their meatsticks made Ian shudder with desire.
The rock-hard feel of Travis’ throbbing cock next to his made Travis tingle with anticipation. He knew what was coming next, and he could see it in Daddy Travis’ eyes. The thought of being penetrated made Ian nervous, but he wanted to do it more than anything.
“You wanna sit on it, boi?”
“Yes,” Ian said without giving it a second thought. He scooted forward and lifted himself up, moaning as he did — he had never thought he’d lose his virginity like this, to his stepfather. It was already the most exciting thing he had ever done.
A biting pain hit him as he lowered himself onto Travis’ cock. Travis bit his lip as well, and Ian held his breath. The pain was excruciating, and he almost backed out.
But then pleasure washed over him as well. Like a switch had been flipped, the pain was still there but the pleasure overwhelmed it. He grunted, and Daddy Travis did likewise.
He didn’t stop stroking Ian off; he just closed his eyes and let Ian lift himself up and down, gradually working every inch of Travis’ big black meat inside him.
Ian was so aroused he shot his load almost immediately. He grunted and choked. He spasmed, sending fresh waves of bliss and agony up his spine.
His cum sprayed out over Daddy Travis’ chest, some of it even soaking into the uniform shirt he had only shrugged off, so it still lay on the bed behind him. Ian kneaded the sweat-dappled flesh of Travis’ muscles as wave after wave of orgasm ran over his body. Travis didn’t even mind when cum hit his lips and chin, he just licked it up and grimaced at the flavor.
Gripping his stepfather’s shoulders for support, Ian rode his cock the best he could. He wasn’t sure if he was doing this right, but Daddy Travis looked like he couldn’t believe the pleasure he felt; his face was scrunched up, eyes closed tight. His hands caressed Ian’s smooth, pale torso, and he moaned as pleasure overtook him. He even stroked Ian’s limp, cum-moistened cock, squeezing out every drop of juice.
It didn’t take very long for Daddy Travis to finish as well. Ian could feel it coming a few seconds before it arrived; he felt it in the spasming of Travis’ muscles and his cock pulsating deep within Ian.
Hot cum sprayed inside him coating his innards. The creamy warmth spread throughout his body, seeping into his very soul. He knew then that all his doubts about being gay were gone — this was what sex was supposed to be, for him.
He didn’t want to pull off. He stayed there, letting Daddy Travis’ dick go soft inside him. Then he kissed each of Travis’ pecs and laid down next to him.
Daddy Travis let out a snort, then rolled over onto his side, wrapping his powerful arms around Ian’s body. He buried his grizzled face and chin in the back of Ian’s neck, and he kissed the smooth skin there.
“What time is your alarm set for?”
“Good. Make sure I get up, okay? I don’t want yer mama to find us like this,” he said. “You ain’t gonna tell her, right?”
“I won’t, Daddy Travis. We’re on the downlow.”
“That’s right. Love you, boy.”
“Love you too, daddy.”