Lockdown Loving

A sweet boy and his “Stepfather” get close in quarantine.

It was about five months into 2020 when my Aunt died of coronavirus. Though she was a fiery woman, her smoking habit didn’t help when she caught the bug.

My Aunt was my only family and I’d lived with her ever since I can remember. She had recently married a new guy who I barely even knew and now I was stuck living with him in quarantine during the pandemic.

It was awkward at first because we hadn’t talked much before she died and now it was just us two alone in the house. My “Stepdad” John was an exec at a finance firm and skirted the lockdown laws by going into his office occasionally. His absence made the situation more bearable because at least we weren’t stuck together all the time. It’s not that I didn’t like him, it was just awkward.

One night after a long day of doing nothing I was making dinner for myself when John came back from work. He looked hungry and asked me what I was cooking up. We never ate together so I hadn’t thought to make him food, but I told him that it was chicken parmesan, noodles, and salad. I was embarrassed that I hadn’t offered to cook for him before so I asked and he gladly accepted.

He was grateful, saying that he usually just had take out and hadn’t come home to a nice meal since my Aunt died. Then he told me he was going to his den to catch a football game and left me in the kitchen to finish dinner.

Once done I called John over to the table to eat. He arrived looking handsome, having changed into shorts with his light blue polo shirt from work still on.

My Aunt was a looker when she was alive and John was definitely an equal match. While he wasn’t all that handsome: late 30’s, gruff smile, dark beard, receding hairline, tan skin, mediterranean; John was big and masculine. He really was huge and even though I stood at 6 feet he still towered over me when we talked.

I tried to hide it but secretly I had a crush on Big John. Not only was he sexy, but he was actually really nice to me. He never made me feel weird for being gay, something my Aunt let slip early on during a meal. I thought he might be offput by my sexuality since he’s so manly but he treats me well and always looks happy to see me.

While I plated our food I noticed John hadn’t sat down yet and was waiting for me to finish. Though I was a bit embarrassed by his chivalry since we were both men, I did appreciate his manners. I gave John the bigger chicken breast and a bit more noodles than I gave myself. I have a tight little body that I like to keep thin and I figured John needed to eat more than me anyways.

John the gentleman helped me into my chair then pushed it in for me as I sat which made me blush. He talked mostly as we ate, venting about something that was happening at work. I was only 18 and had just graduated high school so there wasn’t much going on in my life before college in the fall. I couldn’t see my friends in quarantine so I pretty much just played video games and jerked off all day.

We talked for a while and I learned that John was actually a very pleasant man despite his intimidating size. I really liked spending time with him. He was kind and let me finish my thoughts, always watching me intently with a smile while we chatted. He warmly put his big arm around my shoulder a few times, flexing his veiny biceps in the tight arm holes of his smart shirt.

When the meal was done John stood up and pulled my chair out for me making me blush and giggle like a school girl.

“I’m going to go finish the football game. Why don’t you come in and watch with me after you clean up?”

I was so happy at his invitation to watch TV that I barely recognized the suggestion, command, to clean the dishes. I felt emasculated being told to do the “woman’s work” especially after I made him dinner.

I thought about my predicament as I cleared the table, realizing, though, that John did pay for all of the food we just ate. He also pays for the electricity, internet, my phone, and pretty much everything I own. Making John dinner and cleaning up around here for him actually seemed like a great way for me to show my appreciation, and I began to smile as I gleefully washed the dishes.

I padded into his den wearing a white shirt and athletic shorts. I wanted to be cozy while we watched TV. He was reclined in his La-Z-Boy sipping a scotch while gesturing for a nervous me to enter. Like I said, we didn’t really hang out together so this was new for both of us. I took the spot on the far couch, opting for the comfiest seat other than his big chair.

We watched the game and talked like before, though I didn’t know much about sports. He asked me which team I wanted to win and I was embarrassed because I didn’t even know which two teams were playing.

I always hated talking about sports with guys because they seem to just instinctively know everything and I don’t even know the rules of football. I felt bad looking like a girly boy in front of John and whispered that I didn’t know who the teams were.

John sensed my athletic illiteracy and told me not to worry because he’d teach me! This made me grin and I was told to come over to him so we could watch together. I stood up but wasn’t sure exactly where to sit since there were no chairs near him.

“Come here, cutie, you can sit on the floor by my feet.”

I walked over feeling giddy at John calling me cutie. John undid the recliner and sat straight up in his chair, giving me a place to sit beside his legs. I plopped down on my bottom and immediately noticed how massive John looked over me when I was on the ground. He smiled down at me, thick fur coming from his collar to meet the stubble on his neck. From down here he seemed larger than life, a demigod, and I was humbled to sit by his feet.

We watched the game and John explained the rules of football and which team he liked, the Ravens. He never made fun of me even though I knew nothing about the rules; it made me feel good. He was gentle and I found we were both watching each other more than the actual game. When the Ravens scored John let out a “whoop” and clasped my shoulder with his meaty paw.

“That’s our team, baby!” he yelled, making me blush again at his nickname. This time John kept his hand on my shoulder, its presence like a radiator. I was trying my hardest to not squirm but the hand on my shoulder may has well have been on my cock.

Speaking of which, my little dick awakened to my dismay and was tenting up in my shorts. When John wasn’t looking I quickly swiped my 5 inch stiffy into my waistband.

John’s hand still hadn’t left me and now it had now traveled to my neck. He grabbed the back of it with his firm grip, kneading me and making me shudder.

I looked over to his legs during my massage and was facisnated by the differences beteeen us. While his legs were like thick trunks covered in dark fur, mine were pale and thin, almost hairless except a few sprinkles on my shins. I traveled up to check out his arms. His biceps were the size of my thighs. He continued massaging my neck and I noted the dimorphism between us while going down the checklist of our anatomy. I couldn’t believe we were both considered “male”.

I ventured to touch his leg, so curious to feel the hair that I lacked. When I petted it once I heard him huff out a satisfied grunt. I took this as an invitation and began to softly rub his shin. Eventually I had tilted myself towards his leg and was wrapped around it, holding on as a buoy. He kept his hand on my neck, approving of the new position.

The game finished and John got up first then reached down to lift me. Again he stood over me and we both stared at each other silently, understanding that what had just happened was special.

“Hey, sweetheart, how about a hug before bed?” John asked. We had never really hugged before but there was nothing I would have rather done in that moment than be squeezed by John.

He came up to me and wrapped my whole body keeping my arms by my sides. He constricted me, holding me close while gently rubbing my head and sniffing my hair. His other hand wandered down my shirt to my lower back and he lifted the bottom of my tee to slip his hand under and onto my smooth flesh.

The skin-to-skin contact made my knees buckle but he held me tighter so I didn’t fall. He rubbed my back up and down, his huge hand covering most of it laterally. His hands were calloused but I knew John was rubbing gently to not hurt me. He was really good to me.

The hug continued and I thought about this year and the catastrophic loss of my Aunt, my only family. I started to shake and eventually broke down, sobbing into John’s arms.

John wouldn’t let me move and continued to hold and stroke me, ensuring, “it’ll be okay, sweet boy. Shhhh. It’ll be okay. I’ll make everything better. Daddy’s going to make everything better.”

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