The Pressure Relieving Boy

I was a pale, little geek. Not short but nor was I tall for my age. Although, I suppose my thin frame made me look comparatively tall, even though I wasn’t. I certainly wasn’t taller than most of my peers. For as long as I could remember, me and Mom had been living with my grandmother. Grandpa had passed away, and my dad might as well have been deceased for all I ever saw of him. He had done a few trips to jail (related to drugs and robbery) and had abandoned me and Mom when he got out the last time. Mom called him a useless deadbeat, among other things, and that was that.

My mother, a slender blonde who was about to turn thirty-three, was working the front desk of a hotel. She was narrow across both hips and chest, and I guess it’s fair to say that I got my own unimpressive physique for a boy more from her genetics than from my father. We had never had a lot of money, and truth be told it didn’t help that my thieving father had leeched money from my gullible mother and left her in debt. Anyways, with him out of our lives, we were to get our own place once Mom had saved up a little bit of capital, but up until that time we would continue staying with Grandma.

It wasn’t too bad there, but neither was it great. My room was small, and the furniture was old. Even worse, my computer was ancient. I had coerced Mom into paying for broadband, so I could game with the few friends I had, but I could only play the simplest of games without lag. Mostly, I stuck to Minecraft unless I wanted to have a mental breakdown. I rarely complained to Mom though, she truly did her best and I knew that. She didn’t even have a room of her own, and instead slept on the living room sofa – which made it awkward the weeks she worked the night shift at the hotel reception. At those times, she slept on my bed when me and Grandma got up and I was getting ready for school.

Things changed later on though. Mom met a new boyfriend – an older man. A real gentleman, she called him. After they had been dating for some time, we moved in with him. Our standards of living went up what seemed like tenfold. Richard’s – that was his name by the way, and he was 58 years of age – house was both big and luxurious. It had marble counters in the kitchen and the bathrooms – of which there were several – and it had a steam shower. Out back, there was an outdoor pool and a jacuzzi. The fairly large garden was surrounded by high hedges, and the front lawn and driveway was protected, so to speak, by a wall (taller than me) which had a sturdy-looking gate in the center.

What really impressed me though, was how I got not only my own bedroom with nice, new furniture and a big, comfortable bed but also a whole separate game room for my toys and gaming computer. The computer, which Richard bought for me, was a brand new one with which I could easily play any game I wanted on the highest settings. Also, I had gotten a couple of high-end monitors hooked up to the computer. Furthermore, as if that wasn’t enough already (!), he soon after gave me both the newly released Xbox One AND the PS4, as an early birthday present – my birthday being in the second week of December. While other kids at school had the debate about which of them to wish for at Christmas, I suddenly had ‘em both! I could have connected the video game consoles to the PC monitors, but instead I got a big LED TV mounted on the wall – as a Christmas present. I could have happily spent that rest of my life in that room!

Evidently there had been a lot of money to be made from fixing peoples’ teeth. That’s what he had been doing before he retired a few years back; being a dentist. When I asked him about it one time, with incredulity, he laughed and confirmed that it was indeed so – he had been running his own father’s old clinic, which he had now sold upon retiring.

Richard used to get up in the mornings to drive me to school, and pick me up after it. With the move to his house, we lived further away from my old school. There had been some talk about changing schools, but I had pleaded for that not to happen and had thankfully been listened to. You see, I did not have an easy time making new friends – other boys were just as, or even more so, prone to picking on me as being friends with me. I did not want to be the skinny newcomer who also happened to be a quiet and introverted nerd, sucked at sports, and probably would be considered a teacher’s pet because I sat calmly in class, didn’t make a ruckus and did my homework when I got home – before I could play video games, as Grandma always insisted.

As it were, I at least had a couple of reasonably close companions with which I could hang out with at school. I suppose the harsh truth was that we were more or less equally unpopular kids who found solace in banding together. It always struck me as unfair that when the more popular crowd talked about games, then it was normal, but when we did it, we were such losers.

After my new stepdad had picked me up from school, I usually spent most of my time playing video games, while he would spend his days reading books, gardening and working out in his home gym in the garage. He had suggested that he had enough money for Mom to quit work, and possibly go to a community college and study something she liked – if she wanted to. He would also suggest, while getting a little frisky, that she could simply stay at home with him as his “gorgeous gold digger”. Even though Mom used to tell him to stop it, reiterating it several times in fact, when he did stuff like that, she seemed to like it nonetheless because she almost always laughed and smiled meanwhile. However, in the end Mom insisted that she’d do her bid to contribute to the household’s income and not rely entirely on him. Richard said that he liked that about her; that she wasn’t lazy.

One Friday evening in the beginning of 2014, me and Richard were watching a movie in the living room – Mom having gone to work the night shift at the hotel. In the middle of the film, he said “Hey sport, now that you’ve been living here for a while, I trust that you’ve settled in nicely?”. Truth be told, I loved living at his place, and said as much.

He laughed. “That’s good to hear! However, it’s kind of something along those lines I need to talk to you about…”. As he was talking, his mirth had diminished, and he seemed more thoughtful. I did not like where this was going. Richard continued by saying that he loved my mom, and that they got along great – and also that I was great kid to have around in the house. However, he didn’t know whether my mom was enough for him, no matter how strong his feelings were for her.

I immediately pictured them breaking up, and myself ending up back at Grandma’s, losing my two awesome bedrooms and all my stuff in them. No, no, no (!) – I thought. This couldn’t be happening! He had said something more, but I hadn’t been listening, instead panicking about the possible reversal of fortune for myself. However, now I got to promise to keep listening – since we were friends – and that I couldn’t tell Mommy what he was about to tell me. I did so, and nodded to convey the earnestness of my reply.

Richard, now with a strong arm around me where we sat on the sofa, went on to explain how every man has this “pressure” inside of him that he needs to release. It just so happened that he was a man with an exceptional amount of pressure that needed to find an outlet – and that outlet was the sex. Now, he loved Mommy and they apparently had absolutely fine sex – but he was worried that she couldn’t keep up with his needs for release. Ultimately, if nothing changed, he feared that their relationship would have to come to an early end, and by extension that we would have to move out of his house. However, he hoped that that wouldn’t be the case. I nodded emphatically as if willing it so would make everything good and alright.

That’s where I came into the picture, he said. He explained that if I were able to help him relieve his stress, that had been built up from many years of working long hours, and thereby take some of the responsibility away from Mommy, we could all still be a family and live happily together. That last bit resonated greatly with me; we would get to keep living in his big house, and I would get to keep all my new, nice things.

It would be our secret then, he said. The biggest of secrets, and if I were ever to say anything about what we had talked about right then and there or anything of the secret stuff that we might do, he’d feel very betrayed and would deny it. Also, since I (in that case) would have betrayed his trust in the most egregious way, we couldn’t be a family any more…

He asked if we should give it a whirl, if I was game to try some of the Mommy-Daddy stuff that could make him feel good? I wasn’t quite certain what it was that he expected of me. I knew what the sex was – I had watched a few pornos online, and touched my hard, little prick meanwhile. But, for example, I had no boobs like Mom. I guess her tits wasn’t all that big, but at least she had a pair. My chest was completely flat.

As if understanding my confusion, he asked “You know what, erm, adults do when they get naked together, right?”.

“Mmh,” I said. I wasn’t an idiot. “It’s when… when people do IT. A guy puts… his thing inside a girl, and she gets pregnant”.

“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” he replied while nodding. “Hey, if I go ahead and show you something right now, something reeeally secret, you’re not gonna tell Mommy, right?” he asked.

“No,” I promised and shook my head.

At that point, he undid his pants, scooched down his underwear and pulled out his thing. It was large, and it was expanding in size right before my eyes. It looked almost angry, which conflicted with how pleased he seemed when he looked at me and saw how my gaze ping-ponged from his smiling face to his hard manhood.

“Well, here’s mah thang – with which I sex up your mommy whenever she’s up for it”, he explained while grabbing around the shaft of it with one hand and moving it around. “The lovemaking is.. nice. Aaand after a while, all the pent-up pressure in me is released – which feels super awesome and relaxing”.

I said nothing. I didn’t know what to say, or if I needed to say anything. I was scared and mesmerized at the same time. Nervous, yet excited.

“When you’re younger, you can more easily relieve the pressure yourself,” he continued, and started to jack himself off – I knew that’s what he was doing when he moved his hand up and down on it. “However, as you get older, that becomes less effective and you need a wife, girlfriend or simply a good friend to help you out. You see, your mom is good at helping me out, but I need more help than she realizes, and that’s where I thought you might pitch in. By taking some of the workload away from your mommy, not that she can really keep up with my needs as it is – which is why we’re having this conversation in the first place – I’m sure we’ll all manage to stay happy together”.

I nodded. As he had laid it out and explained it, it seemed sort of sensical to me.

“Go ahead, touch it,” he said.

I had never really stopped looking at it. Now I did as I had been invited to do; I touched it with my small fingers, tentatively. Although I was a little scared of how enraged it looked, and of the sheer size, which dwarfed my own (that was safely hidden away inside my pants), I was still inexplicably drawn to it – like it had a gravity that was pulling my little hand towards it.

“That’s it, go on. Grab onto it,” he urged.

Again, I did as suggested. I placed my hand on the middle of his shaft. About an equal distance from the pink, shiny tip and the base at which he had what looked like a short-trimmed beard around the penis. It was smooth and warm in my hand, which couldn’t reach entirely around it. It seemed to pulse, as if it had a life of its own.

“Aw yeah, that’s the stuff”, he said while leaning his head back and exhaling loudly.

“I think.. I can feel the pressure,” I said.

“Bet you can! You’re a natural. Yeah, you’re your mother’s son alright, just the right touch”. Leaned back and breathing deeply, he added in a slowly spoken sentence “Are you sure you haven’t done this before – helped some older geezer with his pressure, I mean? It’s OK, you can tell me”.

I hadn’t, of course, and said as much – though I had to admit that so much praise for doing something so easy felt nice.

“Well, you’re.. R-E-A-L-L-Y talented. That’s it, just like that!” he uttered, groaning as if he was in pain. Listening more to the way he said it than the words he spoke, I stopped clasping onto his upwards-pointing throbbing dick. “Did I do it wrong?”, I asked at the same time.

“No, no.. It’s… it can feel so good when a man gets help with his thing, that.. urm, he cannot help but moan out his abundance of good spirits. You understand?”.

“Ok,” I replied – a little confused about how something that was supposed to feel good could make someone sound as if they were hurting.

Richard was looking around, behind the sofa, at the windows and into the darkness of his garden out back, as if he had seen something. “I think this a good time to emphasize how BIG of a secret this is – what I’ve told you and what we just did. It is highly forbidden for me to show you mah thang and, you know, to allow you to help me and try to release the pressure inside of it,” he explained. “It’s because you’re considered too young to help your mommy with her duties, with such adult relationship-stuff. If she finds out, she would be very upset that you and I did these things. She thinks she can handle it alone, you know, but she just can’t, truth be told, and that’s not because of her, it’s simply because I have so much… stored pressure in me”.

While saying all of that, Richard had put his penis back inside his underwear again, and with his trousers pulled up – though they remained unbuttoned – he had left the couch and was closing the shades on the windows of the living room. Then, he leaned on the back of the sofa, in which I still sat – now turned around and looking back and up at him. “You’re ready to help me out for real, aren’t you?” he wondered.

“Sure,” I answered. After all he had given to me and mom, it seemed no more than right that I tried to make some of it up to him, the best I could anyways. I didn’t want him to have to look for another woman, who would better manage to help him with his inside pressure. I was certain that Mom did the best she could, and I wasn’t about to hurt her feelings by speaking out of turn about how it just wasn’t enough for her boyfriend. I imagined myself moving out and some other kid moving into my bedroom and also getting my game room. I bet tons of other kids would line up to help their stepdad by touching his stiffy (which had its own strange allure to it), if it meant they could get all the toys, the computer setup, and the video game consoles that I had.

He led me out into the hallway, saying “First, we make sure that the door is locked as usual”, which it was. It had a floor lock, which could be bolted down – and he did so. At the same time as I thought that Mom wouldn’t be able to get in if she came home, Richard added “So Mommy doesn’t surprise us if she ends her shift early for some reason”. Then we stopped and looked at the hallway monitor, which showed the feeds from the half dozen security cameras outside of the house. They could see in the dark, and showed nothing or no one around the house or in the driveway behind the gate. After that, we went to the master bathroom with the steam shower.

Richard undressed. Not slowly, but not fast either. In a leisurely pace I suppose; casually. He dropped everything and got into the big glass box that was the shower and pushed some buttons. It even had a bench inside to sit down on.

I had gotten down to my boxers and paused, hands in front of my genitals. I supposed that if we were to shower, then I should get totally naked too, but I was hesitant. Richard was walking around with his dick pointing upwards, not minding that I was looking at it. Like it was normal, like it was no biggie – except that it was, big I mean. I imagined that I wouldn’t mind it if other people looked at mine if it were of a similar size. However, it certainly wasn’t, and as such I was not eager to display my own.

Coming out of the shower, he absentmindedly said “I engaged the quick-start feature, we’ll get warm steam within a minute or so, two at most”. Noticing me standing there, nervous and fidgeting, he came closer – him and his erect cock. He stopped in front of me and bent down. “Hey, I get it.. we’re not supposed to be nekkid together”. He paused and waited for me to stop regarding his angry-looking penis. As I finally managed to find eye contact with him, he continued, “But you can trust me.. and I can trust you, right? After all, we’re a family – and family is sacred, and especially this; our secret”.

I felt a bit more sure of myself, and stood with more confidence. I could to this. I could help Richard, and by doing so help both myself and my hard-working mother. I allowed him to pull apart my hands from where they had been intertwined in front of my nether region. He proceeded to gently lower my boxers to the tiled floor.

“There we go,” he said, “not so bad, ey?”. Looking from my willy to my face, he winked at me, made a chik-chik sound, and added, “Just as pretty as the rest of you”. He then ushered me into the warm, humid steam of the glass box shower.

In there, he ran his large, powerful hands all over me. Massaging my neck, and down my back to my little butt. He bent down and whispered in my ear how much he appreciated that I was willing to try and help him with his pressure, and he was certain that even though Mommy could never know about it, she would have a lot to thank me for as well”. Meanwhile, he had been fondling my wiener – which felt very good and gave me a stiffy. I was thankful that he stood behind me and couldn’t see how my cheeks were burning red in my face.

When he stopped, I was disappointed. I wanted more of what he had been doing. However, as he turned me around, and I suddenly found myself standing inches away from his boner right at my eye level, I realized that it was time for me to try and do something that would help me hold onto this new and luxurious lifestyle.

I looked at it, and around it. The difference in age was reflected in the dissimilarities of our bodies. His was somewhat muscular and more than 6 feet tall with a weight of probably around 220 pounds, versus my petite frame of 4 feet 2 inches at 56 pounds. I also noticed that whereas I only had hair on my head, he had a trimmed stubble around his groin and also had hair on his upper chest as well as the hair on his arms and legs that had become matted against the skin.

“Do what you did before,” he said. Reaching out with my minute right hand, I first ran my fingers against the course short cropped hair around the base of his hard phallus before I clasped onto it. Tentative at first, I quickly became bolder and bolder with how I massaged and tugged on it. It didn’t exactly slow me down that he urged me on with fervor.

As I had begun jerking the top and shaft of with both my hands, under increasingly eager encouragement and praise from my stepdad, I rarely managed to look at anything else than his bulging tool in my small hands. With the way that it seemingly throbbed, as if it had a heartbeat of its own, I could relate to his earlier words of piled up pressure inside of it.

His breathing then changed, and soon thereafter the mushroom tip of his pulsating dick started to shoot string after string of lukewarm manmilk right at me. Onto my forehead, nose, lips, neck and chest. With a couple of slow steps back, he sank down on top of the bench there in the shower. He was breathing slowly, deeply and sighing. His dong was starting to hang downwards.

“That was… superb,” he said, “an excellent effort. I’d give you an A”. I didn’t feel like I had been doing anything complicated or especially arduous, but I wasn’t going to turn down easily earned praise.

As Richard stood and joined me again after a few minutes, and we washed our hair and bodies with shampoo and soap respectively, I couldn’t help but notice that his third leg was growing in size and was soon standing erect again. I figured I might have to grab onto it and rub the pressure out of it for a second time, but he didn’t say anything and so I did nothing more even though I deliberated extensively about it.

Having finished with the showering, we soon sat down in the living room sofa again – wearing bathrobes. He then hugged me close to his side, and opened up his bathrobe. There it was again, seemingly wanting my attention – which it got. I was captivated with it and the things I had seen already. He took my hand and placed it on his rigid shaft.