The summer sun hung low over the suburban backyard, casting a golden haze across the manicured lawn where Dirk and his son Christian tossed a football back and forth. Dirk, at 45, was a towering figure of rippling muscle from years of gym devotion—broad shoulders, thick pecs straining against his tight tank top, and powerful thighs that filled out his loose athletic shorts. Beneath those shorts, he wore his favorite black jockstrap, the straps hugging his firm ass cheeks, a secret thrill that made him feel exposed even in the open air. Christian, 20 and home from college, matched his dad's physique but with the fresh, cocky edge of youth. His tank top clung to his chiseled abs, and his basketball shorts hung low on his hips, no underwear in sight—he always went commando, letting his thick cock swing free against the fabric, a habit that drove him wild with subtle freedom.
It started with a glance. Dirk caught Christian's eyes lingering a beat too long as he bent to pick up the ball, his shorts riding up just enough to tease the edge of the jockstrap's waistband. Christian's gaze flicked away, but not before Dirk felt a familiar heat stir in his gut. Throughout the afternoon, as they mowed the lawn together, the tension simmered. Christian's bare foot brushed Dirk's calf while they shared a cold beer on the patio, and Dirk's pulse quickened. He shifted in his seat, the jockstrap's pouch tightening around his growing bulge. Christian smirked, wiping sweat from his brow, his shorts tenting slightly as he stretched, the outline of his uncut cock visible through the thin material.
By dinner, the air crackled. They ate grilled steaks at the kitchen table, the windows open to the warm evening breeze. Dirk's fork paused midway to his mouth when Christian leaned forward, his muscular arm flexing, eyes locking onto Dirk's with an intensity that screamed unspoken hunger. 'Hot day, huh, Dad?' Christian said, voice low, his foot nudging Dirk's under the table. Dirk swallowed hard, nodding, his mind flashing to the slutty nights of his past—anonymous hookups in dark bars, bent over and begging for it. But this was different. This was his boy, all grown up and radiating dominance. The glances multiplied: Christian's stare tracing the veins on Dirk's forearms, Dirk stealing looks at the way Christian's shorts gaped at the thigh, hinting at the heavy balls beneath.
As dusk fell, they retreated to the living room for a movie, the tension coiling tighter. Dirk sat on the couch, legs spread wide, his jockstrap now uncomfortably snug against his hardening cock. Christian dropped beside him, closer than necessary, their thighs pressing together. Halfway through the film, Christian's hand landed on Dirk's knee, casual at first, then sliding upward. Dirk's breath hitched. 'What are you doing?' he whispered, but his body betrayed him, leaning in. Christian's eyes darkened. 'What we've both been thinking about all day.' He grabbed Dirk's chin, pulling him into a rough kiss, tongues clashing as the spark ignited into flame.
They stumbled to Dirk's bedroom, clothes shedding in a frenzy. Christian yanked off his tank top, revealing his sculpted chest dusted with dark hair, then shoved down his shorts. His thick cock sprang free, already half-hard, veined and heavy, balls hanging low. Dirk peeled away his tank, his massive pecs bouncing slightly, nipples hard. He dropped his shorts, standing in just the jockstrap—black straps framing his round, muscled ass, the pouch bulging with his own erection, pre-cum soaking the mesh. Christian growled, palming Dirk's ass through the straps. 'Fuck, Dad, you've been teasing me in this all day.' He spun Dirk around, pressing his bare cock against the jockstrap's fabric, grinding the length along the cleft.
Dirk moaned, pushing back, the dominant energy from his son making his hole twitch. Christian ripped the jockstrap down just enough to expose Dirk's ass, leaving the pouch intact around his cock. He spat on his fingers, shoving two into Dirk's tight hole without warning. 'You're such a slut for it, aren't you? Been waiting for a real man to take you.' Dirk gasped, nodding, his body arching as Christian finger-fucked him roughly, stretching him open. The jockstrap's straps dug into his hips, heightening the slutty vulnerability. Christian pulled out, slicking his cock with spit, then slammed in balls-deep. Dirk cried out, the burn turning to pleasure as Christian pounded him, hips slapping against ass, the jockstrap's pouch swinging with each thrust.
They fucked like animals through the night. Christian flipped Dirk onto his back, yanking the jockstrap aside to suck his dad's cock—deep throating the thick shaft, gagging himself on it while fingering Dirk's prostate. Dirk bucked, hands fisting Christian's hair. 'Yes, son, fuck my mouth with your fingers later—no, your cock.' Christian obliged, pulling off to straddle Dirk's chest, feeding him his dick. Dirk slurped greedily, tongue swirling the head, tasting the salty pre-cum. Christian face-fucked him hard, balls smacking Dirk's chin, until he was close. 'Gonna cum down your throat, slut.' But he pulled out at the last second, stroking furiously, shooting ropes of hot cum across Dirk's tongue and lips.
Dirk swallowed what he could, but held a mouthful, eyes locked on Christian's. As Christian caught his breath, Dirk surged up, kissing him deeply, snowballing the thick load between them. Their tongues pushed the cum back and forth, salty and warm, dripping down chins as they moaned into the messy exchange. Christian groaned, savoring his own taste from his dad's mouth, the intimacy raw and filthy. 'Share it all, Dad. Every drop.' They kissed until the cum was gone, swallowed in shared gulps, then Christian flipped Dirk again, sliding back into his ass for round two.
Hours blurred—Christian breeding Dirk's hole twice more, cum leaking out around his cock, the jockstrap now twisted and soaked. Dirk rode him reverse, ass bouncing on that dominant dick, the straps framing the view as Christian slapped his cheeks red. They collapsed in sweat and semen, Christian's commando freedom leaving him gloriously bare, Dirk's jockstrap a ruined symbol of his bottom slut desires.
Morning light filtered through the curtains, stirring them awake. Dirk lay tangled in sheets, sore and sticky, second thoughts crashing in. What had they done? The slutty past he'd buried for fatherhood now echoed in the ache of his ass. Christian stirred, arm draping possessively over Dirk's waist, his morning wood pressing against the jockstrap's remnants. 'Regrets?' Christian murmured, voice husky.
Dirk turned, meeting those intense eyes. 'I... we crossed a line. You're my son.' Christian sat up, muscles flexing, unashamed. 'And? That fire yesterday wasn't wrong. I've wanted you since I came home—watching you strut around in those shorts, knowing you're a total bottom whore underneath.' He cupped Dirk's face. 'This isn't just a fuck. It's us. Your past doesn't scare me; it turns me on. And my future? It's with you, owning this ass every night.'
Tears pricked Dirk's eyes, the tension from the day before melting into something deeper. The slutty echoes of his youth found a promising anchor in Christian's dominance. 'Not a one-night stand,' Dirk whispered, pulling him close. 'It's the start. Love you, son—more than father and boy now.' They kissed softly, then heatedly, Christian's hand slipping under the sheets to stroke Dirk's cock through the jockstrap. The morning led to slow, tender sex—Christian entering him gently at first, building to hard thrusts, ending in another snowball as they shared the fresh load, sealing their bond.
It led to true love, a twisted, passionate fusion of Dirk's slutty history and Christian's commanding tomorrow—nights of breeding, days of stolen glances turning to forever.
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