No plastic, only flesh
The memory of that afternoon branded itself into Liam’s soul. Every waking moment, the ghost of the double dildo stretched him, the echo of his father’s groan vibrated in his ears, the taste of that desperate, filthy kiss lingered on his lips. He couldn’t focus in class. He couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed at night, hand wrapped around his hard cock, stroking slowly as he replayed the scene in his mind: the slick slide of silicone, the shocked intimacy of their eyes locked, the raw confession of “we’re fucking together.”
He was obsessed. Completely, hopelessly consumed. The countdown became his private religion. Three weeks until his mother’s trip with her girlfriends. Twenty-one days of torture and aching hunger. He wanted more. He needed it. The promise they had made—next time, no toys, just skin—haunted him with a desperate, greedy need.
Patience was a foreign concept.
Without the freedom of the empty house, they found their release in stolen moments, flirting with disaster. When his mother was in the garden or busy folding laundry downstairs, Liam would grab his father’s arm and pull him into his bedroom, pressing him against the door before it was even fully closed.
“Mhhh daddy I can’t stop thinking about it,” Liam breathed, his mouth hovering just an inch from his father’s. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I feel you.”
His father’s hands slid up Liam’s chest, gripping his shoulders, pulling him close. “It’s the same for me, baby. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
Their mouths met in a hungry, searching kiss. It was wet, deep, tongues sliding together with a practiced urgency that grew more confident each time. Liam moaned into his father’s mouth, grinding his hips forward, feeling the older man’s cock harden against his own through their jeans.
“Owwww daddy I want you so bad,” Liam whispered against his lips. “I want to feel you inside me. For real.”
“Ohhh baby,” his father growled, his hand slipping down to cup Liam’s ass, squeezing hard. “When your mother leaves for her girls only weekend, we’ll have the whole night. I’m going to take you apart, my baby.”
They rocked together slowly, a desperate, dry-humping rhythm that left them both breathless and aching. Liam’s hands fumbled with the button of his father’s jeans, freeing his thick cock, wrapping his fingers around it. He stroked him slowly, feeling the heat, the weight, the throb of blood pulsing through the shaft. His father gasped, burying his face in Liam’s neck, biting down gently as Liam worked him.
“That’s it, baby,” his father groaned, his hand mirroring the motion on Liam’s own cock. “Show me how much you want it.”
They jerked each other off in the dim light of Liam’s bedroom, mouths fused together, swallowing each other’s moans. The risk of getting caught made every touch electric. When his mother called from downstairs, they froze, hearts pounding, then laughed breathlessly as they tucked themselves back into their pants, sharing a secret grin that promised so much more.
But three weeks was an eternity for a teenager’s libido. Liam needed a release valve. Something to burn off the frantic energy that built up inside him every day. He downloaded Tinder, swiping right on dozen girls, not really caring who they were. He just needed bodies. Warm, willing bodies he could use to vent the fire his father had lit inside him.
Within days, he had a parade of them.
The first was a blonde cheerleader from a neighboring school. He brought her home when his parents were out for dinner. He fucked her face-down on his bed, her ass in the air, her giggles turning into moans as he pounded into her from behind. But his mind was elsewhere.
He closed his eyes and it wasn’t her tight, wet cunt he was buried in. It was his father’s ass. The heat, the gripping tightness, the sound of his father’s deep groan. He imagined driving into that tight, forbidden hole, feeling the older man’s body yield to him inch by inch.
“Fuck… yeah… take it,” Liam grunted, his voice raw, his rhythm brutal. He grabbed the girl’s hips and slammed into her, over and over, chasing a fantasy she knew nothing about.
He came with a shuddering gasp, collapsing onto her back, his mind still swimming with images of his father. The cheerleader sighed contentedly, rolling over to cuddle, completely unaware that she had just been a stand-in for her boyfriend’s own dad.
The perversity of it made Liam’s spent cock twitch. She has no idea. The lie was perfect. The secrecy was its own kind of aphrodisiac. He was using these girls, fucking them hard, and every thrust was a prayer to the night he was saving himself for.
He saw others over the following weeks. A redhead from English class. A brunette he met at a party. Each time, it was the same ritual. He fucked them rough, fast, and deep. He ordered them around, bent them over, took what he needed. And every time, his eyes were closed, his mind was in that bedroom with his father, replaying the feel of the double dildo, imagining the real thing.
The girls never suspected. They thought he was just an enthusiastic, dominant lover. They never knew that when he grunted, “You feel so good,” he was picturing his own father’s sexy ass. They never knew that when he kissed them, he was tasting his own father’s tongue.
The deception thrilled him. It made the casual sex feel dark, wicked, and twice as hot.
During one of their secret make-out sessions pressed against the wall of Liam’s room, his father’s hand slipped down the back of Liam’s jeans, fingertips tracing the cleft of his ass.
“One more week darling,” his father whispered, his breath hot against Liam’s ear. “Then I don’t have to use my fingers.”
Liam shuddered, pushing back against that touch. “A week. Then the house is ours.”
His father’s chuckle was low, dark, full of promise. “I’m going to fuck you so slow, baby. I’m going to make you feel every inch.”
Liam grinned in the darkness, his heart racing. The Tinder girls were a good distraction, a way to burn off steam, but they were hollow compared to the anticipation of what was coming.
Seven days. Six. Five.
The countdown continued, and Liam fucked another girl, closing his eyes and dreaming of his dad. The wait was torture, but the pay-off was going to be everything.
The morning of his mom departure arrived with a crisp, clear sky. Liam stood at the front door, watching his mother kiss his father goodbye—a quick peck on the lips, routine, empty. She laughed with her girlfriends on the phone, rolling her suitcase toward the waiting Uber.
“I’ll have a wonderful time, Mark. You two better not trash the house,” she called over her shoulder.
His father waved, calm and composed. “We’ll be fine. Have fun, Karen.”
The door clicked shut. The lock turned. The sound of the car pulling out of the driveway faded, swallowed by the suburban quiet.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Then Liam turned, and something in his father’s eyes caught fire.
“Finally,” Liam breathed, and before the word was fully out, his father grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the wall, crushing their mouths together.
It was desperate, rough, all teeth and tongue. Liam’s back hit the wood paneling as his father’s hands roamed down, gripping his ass, pulling him into a grinding embrace. They kissed like starving men, like they’d been saving up every moment of the last three weeks and pouring it into this one collision.
“Mmmmm daddy I fucking need you,” Liam gasped between kisses. “I can’t wait anymore.”
His father’s voice was a growl. “Then let’s not wait.”
He took Liam’s hand and dragged him through the house—past the kitchen, up the stairs, down the hall into the master bedroom. The room where Liam had spent his childhood, sneaking in for goodnight hugs. The bed where his parents still slept. The air smelled faintly of his mother’s perfume, a ghost of normalcy lingering in the sheets.
His father kicked the door shut.
“Get undressed.”
Liam obeyed without hesitation. T-shirt over his head. Jeans shoved down. Boxers kicked aside. He stood naked, his cock already hard, jutting out, pre-cum beading at the tip. He watched his father strip—the older man’s body was strong, still trim, with a dusting of gray hair on his chest. His cock was thick, circumcised, fully erect, and Liam’s mouth went dry.
“On the bed,” his father ordered.
Liam climbed onto the king-sized mattress, his heart hammering. The sheets were cool beneath his knees. He turned and lay face-down, legs spread, ass in the air. He heard his father’s breathing grow heavier.
“Look at you,” his father muttered, climbing onto the bed behind him. “Perfect.”
He felt hands on his asscheeks, spreading them apart. Then a wet, hot tongue pressed against his hole.
Liam gasped, his body jerking forward. His father’s tongue was thick, probing, circling his rim with slow, deliberate pressure. He licked him open, laving the puckered skin, dipping inside just enough to make Liam’s toes curl. Liam buried his face in the pillow and let out a long, shuddering moan.
“Fuck, Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!… OH GOD…”
“You sound like a whore when you moan,” his father said, his voice muffled against Liam’s flesh. He licked again, harder, pushing his tongue deeper. “That’s right, my baby. Let daddy taste you. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”
Liam’s moans turned into sobs of pleasure. His hole was wet and loose from the licking, and his father spread him open with both thumbs, examining him, admiring him. Then he heard the sound of a palm smearing something liquid, and a moment later, a slick finger pressed against his entrance.
“You ready?”
“Oh my god! YES!, please YES!”
The finger slid in. Slow at first, then deeper, curling, searching. Liam’s hips bucked, a guttural groan escaping his throat. His prostate was still tender from the dildo, but this was different—this was his father’s actual finger, hot and alive, feeling his insides from the inside.
“You’re so tight,” his father murmured. “God, baby… I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
He worked Liam open with two fingers, scissoring, stretching, while his other hand stroked his own erection. Liam was dripping, his own cock leaking against the sheets. The anticipation was torture.
“PLEEEEAAAASEEEE,” Liam begged. “FUCK ME. I want your cock. I want it now.”
His father withdrew his fingers, and Liam heard the squirt of lube again. He turned his head, watching over his shoulder as his father slicked his thick shaft, coating it generously. Then he positioned himself behind Liam, the fat head of his cock pressing against the rim.
“Look at me,” his father ordered.
Liam twisted his neck further, meeting those dark eyes.
“I’m going to fuck you in the same bed where I fucked your mother,” his father said, his voice low, raw. “The same bed where I came inside her and made you. I’m going to put my cock where that came from. Do you understand?”
Liam’s cock throbbed violently. The incestuous reality of those words hit him like a shockwave.
“Yes—fuck, yes, Daddy you’re so kinky…”
“This is the sperm that made you,” his father continued, pressing the tip against Liam’s hole, not yet pushing in. “And now I’m going to fill you with it again. You want that?”
“Mhhh Daddy I want it. I want your come, the same that made me 18 years ago. Ohhh Daddy please.”
And then his father pushed.
Liam screamed into the pillow as the head popped past his sphincter. The stretch was incredible—a burning, splitting fullness that made his vision blur. His father held still for a moment, letting him adjust, but Liam was beyond patience.
“OWWWW DADDY DADDY DADDY FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK MEEEEE”
His father obeyed, sliding in inch by inch. Liam felt every ridge of that cock dragging along his inner walls, deeper and deeper until his father’s pelvis pressed flush against his asscheeks. He was fully sheathed inside his son’s body.
“OH FUUUUUUCK,” his father groaned, gripping Liam’s hips. “You feel so good, baby. So hot. So tight.”
He began to move. Slow and deep at first, pulling almost all the way out and then driving back in, each thrust punctuated by a grunt. Liam’s moans turned into wails of pleasure. He was being fucked—truly fucked—by his own father. The taboo of it, the incestuous side, mixed with the physical sensation to create something transcendent.
“You’re my boy,” his father panted, fucking faster now, his rhythm growing wild. “I made you. I own every part of you. And now I’m inside you, Liam. I’m inside you like no one else ever has been.”
“YES YES YES keep going—don’t stop—make me pregnant!”
His father leaned forward, covering Liam’s back, his chest pressing down, his mouth next to Liam’s ear. “Mmmm yes my baby. Daddy’s gonna make you pregnant. We’ll have a baby together. I’m going to come in your ass. I’m going to fill you up with my cum. And you’re going to love it because you were made from it.”
Liam could barely think. He just felt the relentless pounding, the slap of balls against his perineum, the wet squelch of lube. His own cock was rubbing against the sheets, a counterpoint of pleasure.
Then his father angled his thrusts. A little higher. A little sharper. And suddenly, the head of that cock scraped against Liam’s prostate.
A jolt of electricity shot through Liam’s entire body. He screamed, his vision going white, and came without warning—a massive, pulsing orgasm that erupted from his core, spilling hot cum across the sheets. His ass clamped down around his father’s cock, milking it uncontrollably.
His father groaned, one last hard thrust, and Liam felt it—the hot burst of ejaculate flooding deep inside him. Pulse after pulse, his father’s seed poured into his son’s body, and Liam felt it trickle down his thighs as his father slowly pulled out.
They collapsed onto the wet sheets, breathing ragged, sweat-slicked. His father turned Liam onto his back and kissed him, long and deep, tasting of salt and love and filth.
When they broke apart, Liam’s father looked down at him, a smile curling his lips. “You really are my boy.”
Liam grinned, still panting. “Let’s fuck again.”
His father laughed, low and dark. “Give me five minutes.”
Liam lay there, his hand on his father’s chest, feeling the heartbeat slow. The afternoon stretched before them—a whole weekend of possibilities. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that this was only the beginning.
The sweat was still cooling on their skin, the air in the master bedroom thick with the smell of sex. Liam propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at his father. A grin spread across his face, hungry and determined, his cock already stiffening again against his father's thigh.
"My turn," Liam said, his voice rough with need.
Mark raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by a smirk of approval. He didn't hesitate. He rolled onto his back, spreading his legs wide, making himself completely vulnerable. "Show me what you've got, son."
Liam shifted his position, settling between those strong thighs. He looked at the older man's body—the dusting of gray hair on his chest, his semi-hard cock, the powerful legs. He lowered his mouth, pressing his tongue flat against his father's asshole. The skin was slick with leftover lube and traces of their previous encounter. Liam dragged his tongue across it, tasting the musk, the salt, the absolute filth of the moment.
Mark sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck, baby..."
Liam licked him again, harder, plunging his tongue past the tight ring of muscle. Mark's moan was deeper this time, guttural, a sound of pure surrender. Liam rimmed him thoroughly, circling his tongue around the rim, fucking him with it until Mark was gripping the sheets and bucking his hips against Liam's face.
"Enough," Mark gasped, his voice strained. "I want your cock inside me."
Liam pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He grabbed the lube, squeezing a generous amount into his palm and slicking his own cock, which was now rock-hard, throbbing with anticipation. He positioned himself, the fat head of his cock pressing firmly against his father's hole. He looked into Mark's eyes.
"Ready?"
"Do it."
Liam pushed. The head popped past the tight ring of muscle. Mark groaned, long and low, a raw combination of pain and blinding pleasure. Liam's whole body trembled—not from hesitation, but from the sheer electric charge of the moment. He was fucking his father. The taboo burned through him like wildfire, making every nerve ending sing.
He slid deeper, inch by excruciating inch, until his hips met Mark's ass. He held still, letting them both feel the fullness of it.
"Good?" Liam whispered.
"So good, baby. Don't you dare stop."
Liam leaned down and crushed his mouth to his father's. They kissed deeply, tongues tangling in a wet, messy dance while Liam began to thrust. Slow, rolling, deep motions that made the bed creak softly beneath them.
Breaking the kiss, Liam grabbed his father's legs by the ankles and pushed them up, folding Mark's body until his knees were near his ears, his calves resting against Liam's shoulders. The new angle was brutal, burying Liam's cock deeper than ever before.
Mark gasped sharply. "Fuck, yes!"
"Now I'm going to really fuck you," Liam growled, his voice dropping an octave.
And he did.
He began to pound his father's ass without mercy. Hard, fast, savage. The slow, loving rhythm shattered into a frantic, brutal pace. The wet slap of skin against skin echoed through the room. The headboard banged against the wall in a steady, violent rhythm.
Mark cried out, his voice raw. "YES OWWWWW YES BABY FUCK YOUR DADDY!"
Liam roared in response, his voice joining his father's in a primal duet. They were animals, lost completely in the heat. Sweat dripped down Liam's back. He fucked his father like he owned him, driving his rigid cock in and out, the wet sounds of their fucking mixing with their shouts.
In the middle of the furious pounding, Liam's eyes fell on his father's foot resting on his shoulder. Without breaking his frantic rhythm, he bent his head and grabbed the foot, dragging his tongue along the arch, tasting the salt of his father's skin.
Mark's shout faltered, turning into a seductive gasp. "Mohhhh yeeees! Be kinky for daddy lick my feet!"
Liam sucked his father's toes, one by one, taking each digit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, tasting the sweat and skin. Then he opened his mouth wide and took the whole foot into his mouth, the entire front half of his father's foot disappearing past his lips. He sucked hard, bobbing his head, while his hips never stopped slamming into Mark's ass.
Mark's eyes rolled back in his head. "Oh god, baby... that's so fucking sexy and perverse..."
It was perverse. It was perfect. Liam pulled the foot out of his mouth, slick with saliva, and let it drop back onto his shoulder. He returned his full attention to fucking, driving his father mercilessly toward the edge.
"I'M GOING TO CUM," Mark gasped, his body tensing. "I'M GOING TO CUM BABY..."
"Cum for me, Daddy. I'm right there with you."
Liam fucked him through it. Mark's body arched, his back bowing off the bed, and his cock erupted, shooting thick ropes of cum across his own stomach and chest. The sight of his father's orgasm triggered Liam's own. He shoved himself deep, burying his cock to the hilt, and came with a guttural roar. Hot spurts of his seed pulsed deep into his father's ass, filling him up.
Breath ragged, body trembling, Liam collapsed on top of him. They lay there for a long moment, slick with sweat and cum, hearts hammering against each other.
Liam pulled out slowly and rolled onto his side, facing his father. He reached out and touched Mark's cheek.
"That was incredible," Liam whispered.
Mark smiled, exhausted, his eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction. "You're a natural."
Liam leaned in and kissed him. Soft. Deep. Grateful.
When they broke apart, Liam's hand trailed down his father's chest, dipping into the cooling cum. He looked into his father's eyes with a glint of playful mischief.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Can we be kinky tomorrow?"
Mark laughed, a low, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. He pulled Liam closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Whatever you want, son. Whatever you want."
The weekend stretched before them, full of dark promise.
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