NOTES: Hi all, I apologize for the delay in this release for chapter 3. This chapter is 15,036 words long, which means this chapter ALONE is longer than the past two chapters COMBINED. I wanted to split it up, but then the old chapter 3 would've been pretty short, so I decided to cut my losses and make one long chapter. HOWEVER, I assure you this chapter deserves the length it has for good reason ;)
I appreciate all the love and support, which really helps keep my motivation up for weekly releases and always brightens my day. I'm entering a busy part in my life, so I hope to keep a once-a-week schedule; you might need to give/take a couple of days in that schedule!
As always, my email for private comments, suggestions, ideas, and support is [email protected], so please feel free to reach out to me!
Michael:
The sound of my alarm yelling at me in an obnoxious tone breaks the comfortable hold that sleep has on me. Rousing, I turned off the alarm, not wanting it to spoil my mood after the dream I'd had. I had dreamed that my son, Dylan, was beautifully restrained beneath my desk, wearing nothing but a tight red thong, dripping with his leakage as he worshipped my feet and warmed my cock as I worked on paperwork for clients.
Looking down, I could see my hard cock had been leaking throughout the night, with my blanket having a deliciously stained wet spot formed over the night. Walking over to where I discarded the same used underwear Dylan had last night, I picked it up and moved back over to my bed. Sitting down, I slowly began to stroke my cock, reminiscing on my dream last night.
I had put him under there as punishment for acting up earlier, where he had teased me by walking out in that red thong, a color that showed that I owned him, that my son wanted to be mine. He knew that I had to focus on work that had to be done at home, so I grabbed him by the neck and brought him to my office. On the way, I grabbed his red collar and chain leash that I had gotten him, and when we entered the office, I quickly put it on him, the leash clicking into place.
“Under the desk, now, pup,” I growled, shoving him with force yet not overly aggressive.
“Yes, Dad,” Dylan said, which earned a sharp tug from me as I pulled on the leash to correct him. “Yes, Daddy,” He corrected, as he moved under the desk on all fours, sitting on a blanket I had placed there before, as I knew that my son had to be punished. I'm still his father, and his well-being is more important to me.
“Good boy,” I said, sitting on my chair, which creaked with my weight. Rolling the chair forward, I boxed my son in with my large thighs, lifting a sock-covered foot.
“Remove,” I commanded. Which Dylan eagerly obeyed like the good pup, the good son that he is. He moved to kiss my foot, but without permission, so I placed my other foot on his hardened cock and pushed. He seized with pleasure beneath my foot; he cried out for me, his daddy. I pushed harder, pushing out the babbles of pleasure and desperation from my son, which sounded like music to my ears.
“You need to ask permission before serving me, son; you need to learn to respect your father,” I said, growling in a way I knew sent shivers down his spine. “Now do my other sock.”
This time, when I lift the foot, and he removes the sock, he simply puts it aside and waits for another command.
“Good boy,” I say, pleased with his obedience and seeing the smile bloom on his face after receiving my praise. “Now undo daddy's belt, son.”
With a sense of haste hidden behind seductive movements, Dylan quickly undid my belt and waited for my next order.
“Unzip my pants and remove my cock, son, slowly,” I instructed, planting a hand on his head while my other clicked away at my mouse.
Following my command, he slowly unzipped and unbuttoned my pants, freeing my large bulge in the jockstrap I knew drove him crazy. With care, my boy slowly peeled back the jockstrap, pulling it down so my cock sprang free, nearly hitting him in the face. As he pulled down, he tucked the jockstrap pouch underneath my large balls so it wouldn’t obscure his view.
“Good boy,” I praised, rubbing his head. “You like the smell of daddy's cock?”
He nodded in response, “Yes, Daddy, I do.” Leaning forward to smell the semi-hard cock.
Grabbing his hair, I push his face into my bush and order him to sniff. Hearing him inhale, I could feel the eagerness in him, the desire to serve his daddy.
“Now I've got work to do,” I say, pulling his head back and angling it so he could only make eye contact with me. My heart fluttered at his half-drooped eyelids and the face of my son, who seemed so at home between my legs. “And you also need punishment for teasing me. Get on the floor laying down, pup.”
I could tell he was disappointed to be away from my cock but enthusiastic to do as his dad commands him. Dylan lay on his back, his legs scrunched up so that he could fit comfortably. One of his legs shifts and hangs out slightly from the desk, but I decide not to reprimand him for it, as it gives me the perfect view of his body and the teasing red thong that is now dripping wet. Shifting my chair a little further in, I enclose my son between me and the desk, I place my feet on my new footrest, one on the source of my temptations, the red thong that covers the cute dick of his, and the second on his face to stifle any sounds he may make in an attempt to seduce me. A muffled gasp comes out from him as I apply pressure, forcing myself to rip my focus away from him and to the work I had to do.
“You decided to tempt me, son, so now you need to watch my cock while I work. And if I think you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll let you warm it up later.”
I remember my dream had sped ahead, to me finishing work and looking down at my son. His eyes peeling away from the sight of my hardened cock, which had gotten aroused from the sounds that occasionally stemmed from my footrest son whenever I decided to tease him and apply pressure to his cock. Meeting mine, his eyes seemed to plead with me to grant him mercy, to grant him release.
“Perhaps maybe I’ll make you suffer some more,” I said, a grin appearing on my face as I pushed the foot on his cock down a little bit. Enjoying his squirm underneath me, I began to stroke my cock, using my own precum as lube. Gathering a finger of my seed, I lean down as if to feed it to my son, although I never removed the foot on his face.
“Shame you can’t taste this, son, I know how badly you want to,” I teased, sitting back up and fondling my balls. I enjoyed watching him squirm and whimper, watching him get lost in the sight of me as I pleasured myself, knowing that he was desperate to prove to his daddy that he could treat me better than I could treat myself. I could feel myself beginning to take pity on the poor boy who only wanted to serve his dad. To show him that he was worthy of being my son, which he was, of course, I knew I wouldn’t trade him for the world. Slowly, I removed my feet from his body and rolled the chair back as I released my grip on my cock.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson, my boy,” I said, resting my hands behind my head in order to show off my hairy pits to my son. Leaning back, I say, “Now be a good son for daddy and warm my cock.”
Eagerly, Dylan got to his knees and stumbled over between my legs. He grabbed my monstrous cock in both hands as if to admire it like it were a log. Once he seemingly had it memorized, he began to kiss and lick along the length of it, savoring the taste of his father. Before I could tell him to suck it properly, he opened his mouth and began to devour it as if it were the key to life itself. I could feel the wet warmth of his mouth grow tighter as he pushed himself further onto my cock. His tongue explored and traced the veins and ribbons of salt that had stuck to the exterior of my dick. I could feel his throat muscles constrict as he gagged on it, pulling up and off my cock with a string of spittle and precum connecting his mouth to it. Smiling up and me, he brought himself back down onto me with empowered vigor and determination as his pace quickened. His mouth felt like one of those automatic sucking machines, but so much better. He moved along it as his slut mouth belonged on it. His mouth and throat were the perfect receiving piece for my cock.
“Fuck, boy,” I said with a long, drawn-out breath, “You’re doing such a good job for daddy.”
I could feel him smile around my cock, his head bobbing even faster after receiving praise as if to thank me. And to milk out more. I knew what my son wanted, and by the gods, he had earned them now.
A seemingly endless string of praises cascaded from my lips. How proud I am of him, what a good job he is doing, how good he treats me, what a good obedient pet he is, and how lucky I am to have him as my son. With every praise he seemed to push himself to take more, to worship my cock deeper and faster, to make sure he did his job as a cockwarmer. That thought sparked a new string of praises, although these ones were more designed to praise the slut side of my son, the side that ached for me to show him off. I praised him for warming my cock so good, that I never have had a cocksleeve as good as him. That he makes his daddy proud for how much he is able to take, and how much of a good whore he is for his fathers dick. As I continued with a mix between praises for my son and praises for the son between my legs, I could see the waterfall of wetness that flowed from his adorable cock.
He must’ve pulled the thong down when I wasn’t paying attention; he must be close now.
“Does my son want to cum? Does he want to ask for permission to make a mess for daddy?” I say, grabbing his air and pulling him off my cock, which screams out, already missing the attention it was receiving.
“Yes, Daddy, please let me cum,” Dylan pathetically said, his mind lost to lust and servitude.
“Get back to work, and I'll permit your release. But you cannot stop serving me until I stop.” I said benevolently, knowing that I myself couldn’t last too much longer.
Once his mouth fell back around my cock everything seemed right with the world again. My thick monster throbbed against the walls of his mouth, the tip vibrated with pleasure as my son's tongue ran across it. As he kept it up, I knew it was only a matter of time before both of us came. Wanting my cum to reward him, I began to egg him on by returning to the praises, the thought of him cumming from my cock and voice sent a thrill down my spine.
“You’re such a good boy, and you’re doing such a good job,” I whispered in labored breath. “You make me so proud, kiddo, you’re such a good mouth for daddy, you deserve a reward, take it.”
With that, my son cums all across the floor. Ropes of his seed paint the bottom of my chair as they arch in the air, his back seizing. I could feel his climax in his mouth as his entire body shudders. He lets out a moan on my cock that sounds like the holiest of music to me, and it breaks whatever willpower I had left. I bring both hands from their resting position behind my head and grab onto his head, keeping it nearly fully sheathing my cock around his lips as I cum inside his mouth. I feed my son my milk straight from the source; shot after shot gets unloaded down his throat. I can feel that he is struggling to gulp it all down at once, but he does so with a sense of determination and desperation. As if this were the only thing that could keep him alive, he clings to it like a baby and its bottle.
I open my eyes to find my climax not in my son’s mouth being swallowed but rather coating the inside of my new cumrag, my son's blue underwear. Despite being a dream, I’m amazed that I could recall it so perfectly. Perhaps because it’s something that I’ve been thinking a lot of lately, or perhaps it is something else. Disregarding the recollection of dreams, I allow myself to catch my breath and slowly begin to stand, used underwear still in hand. With a sigh, I hide the underwear the same way I hide the memory of the dream and begin to sort out what to wear for the day.
Dylan:
Stepping out of my dad's truck, I squint my eyes towards the forest, raising a hand to block out the rising sun. We had arrived at the park after a quick morning breakfast and an hour drive out into the mountainous terrain of the forest. The fresh smells of the trees and the land were a welcome change from the smells in the city.
“Ready, kiddo?” Dad says, lifting a backpack onto himself as he walks into view. Today, he wore a red long-sleeve plaid flannel shirt that complemented his size over a white undershirt that strained to contain his heavy chest. With a pair of rough jeans that hugged his legs in the perfect way, he seemed like a sexy lumberjack stepped out of a porn catalog. I myself also wore a pair of jeans that hugged my ass perfectly and a grey t-shirt that was just small enough so that when I lifted my arms, it raised up just perfectly to show my stomach and faint V-line.
“Yeah, Dad,” I said, walking towards the entrance to the trail. There were no other cars out in the parking lot here on the side of the road; we seemingly had the trail to ourselves today. As we began the hike, Dad and I continued our conversation on which music artists we liked the best currently, which we had started in the car.
As we walked the trial we found our conversation drifting to different topics, and with each change I found myself walking closer and closer to dad. We were walking nearly hand in hand by the time we reached the halfway point of the hike, a sparkling crystal lake whose small waves lapped at the rocky shore next to the trail.
“It’s been a while since we’ve been back here,” Dad says as he steps onto the rocky shore near the water.
Joining him, I bend down and place my hands in the chilled water, the cool sensation a welcome one to ward against the growing heat. “It hasn’t, has it?” I responded, reminiscing about the last time we came here.
It was a couple of years ago when our relationship was a little rocky after my mother's passing. I had fallen a couple of yards away from this location and gotten a bad cut on my knee. I remember my dad carrying me all the way to the parking lot, reassuring me the entire way that everything would be okay. Looking back, I think that was the day my feelings towards him began to develop, the feeling of being taken care of by someone fatherly. Since that day, we had gotten close, and by the time it was time for me to spend a year away from him, it felt like a stab through the heart, even though I could visit. I found he often buried himself in work when I was away, as if my absence also hurt him as much as it did me. Of course, I visited when I could, but it still wasn’t the same.
“I’m glad I'm back, Dad. Being here reminds me of how much I care about being with you, as corny as it sounds.” I say, trying to downplay my expressions, not wanting to seem outwardly desperate for any returned feelings, no matter how different they may be from mine.
“I’m glad too, son.” He said, his large arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into a sideways embrace. The warmth of his body heat and musk enveloped me, my body leaning into his as if on autopilot, knowing that it felt right to be held by him. He smelled like him but mixed with the earthy scents of the land, and something else I couldn’t quite place, like a good saltiness.
“I remember how scared I was last time we were here,” He continued, staring straight forward across the lake. “You're getting hurt. I knew everything would be okay, but still, I never want to see you hurt Dylan.”
His eyes shifted downwards to meet mine, which looked up at him. His body shifted so now we stood face to face with his hand resting on the small of my back, holding me in place against his warm, manly smelling body. His free hand shifted up to hold the back of my neck with a firm grasp so I couldn’t look away from him even if I wanted to.
“I promise I will never do anything to hurt you, son. I am always here to support you. I care about you more than I know, and will always serve in your best interest.” He said, his eyes piercing my very soul.
“Same, dad.” I stuttered, as if it were all I could manage. “I’m here for you, too.”
Dad pulled me into an embrace, his scent filling my senses as his strength wrapped around me. He held me there, and when he released his grasp on me, I knew that the minute he held me there was not long enough at all to satiate my desires.
We both sat down, my head resting on his shoulder as we spectated the beautiful view of the lake. I could feel the rise and fall of his deep breaths, a motion that relaxed me to the point I was fighting to stay awake. In order not to embarrassingly doze off, I grabbed a pebble and said, “Watch this, Dad.” Chucking it in an attempt to skip it against the surface of the water. But to my disappointment, it just sank into the water with a kurplunk.
My dad chuckled, “Were you trying to skip a stone?”
“It’s because I'm sitting,” I responded, standing up despite the cries from my body to remain next to my father's warm scent and body. I grabbed another rock, this time making sure it was flat, and threw it. This time, it skidded along the surface of the water three times before splashing beneath the surface.
“Not bad, not bad, kiddo,” Dad said, grabbing a stone and standing. Carefully, he brought his arm back properly and threw the rock. He bounced seven times before plunging into the water.
“Ahhh, I'm rusty.” He said, placing his hands on his hips in disappointment.
“You call that rusty?” I exclaim, knowing that I have never been good with rock throwing. “Better than I’ve ever done, my record is like, five.”
“Here, let me show you,” Dad said, walking behind me. His presence was equal parts powerful and comforting, being so close next to me in a space I couldn't see. I could feel him rub against me as his deep voice filled my ears, calmly giving an instruction.
“First, pick up a rock, son, we won’t get very far without a rock.” He instructed.
Bending down to pick up a stone, I could feel him against my ass. Unsure if I had moved back against him unconsciously or if he did so by accident or on purpose, I decided not to worry about it, so I didn’t appear shaken by the strength he held behind me. Rising up with a stone in hand, I made sure this time to rub against him on purpose, partly to see if he would back up or lean in. To my pleasure or displeasure, he neither moved away nor pressed into it.
“Now bring your arm back, like this.” He instructed, using his large, strong hands to guide my arm into a slinging position.
“Now curl your fingers and tilt the stone slightly.” His fingers delicately wrap around mine, and shocks of electricity seem to shoot from my fingers into the rest of my body as his touch lingers on me.
“Good, now throw.” He instructs, his voice firm with confidence and assertion. Raising my arm slightly back, I sling the rock across the surface of the water. This time, the stone bounces one, two, three, all the way to eleven times before running out of momentum and dipping below the surface of the lake.
“Good job, kiddo! Way to go!” His hand rubbing the top of my head as he praises me causes my heart to flutter.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say sheepishly, keeping my face turned away so he can’t see the redness that has awoken on my cheeks. When he steps away, it’s like my body is being exposed to the vacuum of space as the eclectic heat of his body being right up against mine disappears, leaving me in the lonely cold.
We continue to sling rocks back and forth, seeing who can go farthest. I ultimately get to a high of fourteen skips, whereas Dad gets to nineteen skips. As the sun rises even higher and the temperature starts to get uncomfortable, we begin to hike back down the trail. We’re about halfway back to the parking lot when my dad suddenly stops and drops the backpack to the ground. I watch as my father strips off both his flannel and undershirt so that he is shirtless in all of his glory. Distracted by this glistening, sweaty body, covered in the perfect amount of hair with strong shoulders, a large chest that could make any man jealous, and a belly that seemed to be just right for him, I at first didn’t hear him ask me a question.
“Hmm? Sorry, what did you say?” I ask, attempting to downplay my distraction and elevate my apparent innocence as I stared at the armpit hair peeking out as if to tempt me.
“I asked if you could hold onto my shirts. I would put them in the backpack, but I don’t want to stink up the bag since I forgot to take a shower last night.” He said, handing me the clothing, which I graciously took. I kept my face calm, but however dubious the reasoning may be, I wouldn’t pass up the chance to be close to my father's sweaty clothing, the clothing that smelled so deeply of him that I could get lost in it.
“You don’t mind, do you? It was getting a little hot, and I didn’t want to feel all constrained. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t be wearing anything at all!” He said, followed up by a laugh as he stood up. Which I would have to agree with, I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing him without clothing, especially if I could join him.
“I don’t mind, I think you look good like this.” I immediately clamped my mouth shut as the last few words escaped my mouth before I could stop them. His eyes widened as if equally caught off guard by what I said before laughing with a smile on his face.
Shit, shit, shit, I thought, I need to do damage control.
“By that, I mean, have you been working out more?” I stammer, trying to salvage what I could from a slip of the tongue.
“I have, I’ve started going to the gym occasionally when I have someone to go with.” He said, leaning into what I said, if that was my intention.
As we began walking, my face flushed with embarrassment and arousal, Dad trotted alongside me, wrapping one of his large arms around my shoulders as his scent penetrated my nose.
“For the record, I think you look good, too, son. It’s a shame you wore cooler clothing.” He initially said, which was quickly followed up with, “that is, if we saw someone on the trail, you might just peak their fancy.”
I let out a small laugh in response, “That would be something, wouldn’t it, huh, Dad?” But it’s you that I want, Dad, not someone else.
Michael:
Arriving back at the car, my dad put his clothing back on, to my disappointment. After quickly grabbing some lunch before returning home, we finally pulled into our driveway. Stepping inside the nice air-conditioned house was like a breath of fresh air from the now afternoon sun. Removing my shirts once again, I laid them across the arm of the living room couch and undid my belt with a swift pull.
“You don’t mind if I strip down a little again, do you, son?” I asked Dylan, knowing he wouldn’t say no to seeing me in only my underwear. “It’s still really hot, and I’d like to beat the heat somehow.”
“Go for it, Dad,” Dylan responded, his eyes widened as he diverted his gaze, but glanced back with a poor attempt to conceal where he was actually looking.
Pulling my pants down to my ankles and stepping out of them, I stretched, making sure that my sweaty pits were visible to Dylan. As nice as it was to tease my son, it felt equally as good stepping outside of my clothing, letting my skin breathe, even if I wanted to remove even more. Flopping down on the couch, I closed my eyes so that Dylan could steal glances at my heaving bulge in my red briefs and large hairy body without fear of my gaze watching him. I could feel his eyes trace my body with interest, sending electric jolts of energy throughout my body, knowing that my son was enchanted by his father's form. Stretching my leg, a devious thought entered my mind on how I could tease my son even further.
“Dyl, do you think you could rub out a knot I have in my leg? I don’t want to cramp after all that walking we did.” I said, allowing one leg to slip to the floor, and kept the stretched out leg on the sofa cushions so that my prominent bulge in slightly stained underwear would be the center of his attention.
“Yeah, no problem, Dad, seems only fair since you helped me the other day.” He said, walking over to me. Meekly, he added, as if he were unsure, “Would it be alright if I stripped down too, Dad? I’m also finding it to be a little hot.”
“Of course, kiddo, I’ll never stop you,” I responded, allowing a smile to form on my face, both as a reaction to knowing he was comfortable enough to strip for me and also to make sure he had all the confidence he needed to continue.
Slowly, as if teasing me himself, he undressed himself till he too only wore a tight pair of blue briefs that comfortably held his adorable package and seemingly extenuated his beautiful ass.
Carefully, he sat down on the couch, tucking one of his legs underneath his cute ass. “Where is the knot?” Saying as he sat.
“Right here.” I pointed to a spot on the backside of my calf, knowing that he would have to get fairly close to my leg to properly massage it.
As if he thought the same thing, my son scooted closer, pushing my leg up slightly so the knee bent and maneuvered the foot in front of his crotch so that he could lean slightly from both sides of the leg.
My foot is right next to his dick, I thought, I could put pressure just like my dream… A shiver went down my spine with that thought.
Ultimately, I decided not to act on my impulses, but rather lifted my arms and rested them behind my head, showing off my chest, arms, and pits all in one fell swoop. As he began to apply pressure, messaging back and forth, I closed my eyes and let out a relaxed groan.
“Mmm, that's the spot, son,” I exhaled, opening my eyes again and making eye contact with his cute bulge. “Right there.”
Closing my eyes again, I allowed myself to get lost in the sensation of my son rubbing my leg while his covered cock was so close to my foot I could reach out and give him everything he wanted. However, I knew he deserved a little teasing for not telling me how he felt about me, and he had been good today, so I thought I could reward him at the same time by allowing him to rub my body. I could feel the heat of his eyes tracing my body as if he were committing it to memory while I had my eyes closed. I decided to keep them closed so he could have as much time as he needed to stare at my body, thinking, he has been a good boy after all.
“Can you go a bit higher?” I asked, as I flexed my leg briefly for him, my eyes still closed. “Just travel with it.”
“Sure, Dad,” Dylan responded as I felt his hands begin to wander further up, his body shifting to where I felt it riding up against my leg.
I let out a satisfied groan to encourage my son as he worked his way to the top of my calf. I extended my leg slightly to encourage him to move onto my thigh, but as I did so, I could feel my foot graze along the fabric of his underwear. Not pulling back, I kept it there, as a test to see how deeply my son read into this massage scenario. Dylan shifted at my prolonged presence there. I felt him move closer to my lower leg as if he were hugging it, his fingers burying into my large thigh messaging it, slowly getting ever closer to the top of it where my underwear began. His fingers teased the end of the stretched fabric as if he were sticking his hand into water to test the temperature.
“Mmm, right there, son,” I encouraged with a deep whisper. I could feel a hardness beginning to grow against my leg and in my own briefs. “You’re doing such a good job.”
I could hear him smile at the praise, his hands stopping just at the edge as if it was his turn to tease me now. After a few minutes, he began to move around my thigh to different spots on my leg, his body shifting away from my leg to my disappointment. I had tasted what it was like to have my son so close to me, and I was already addicted. I needed to feel his warmth even more, despite the heat of the summer, even with the AC on.
Slowly, his massaging lessened as he moved away. When he stopped, I frowned a little, missing the worship my leg was receiving.
“If it’s alright with you, Dad, I’m going to go upstairs and take a nap. I’m a little beat after hiking all morning, plus I didn’t sleep all that well.”
Instinctively, I knew I didn’t want him to leave. I opened my eyes and could see him staring at my chest as if hypnotized by the hairy pillows that resided there. His hands covered the front of his underwear, surely hiding the real reason he wanted to stop and leave me.
“Remember when we would watch movies, and you would fall asleep on me?” I said, reminiscing in an attempt to keep him with me. “I’m a little beat too, and I remember those naps always had you rested when you woke up.”
Hesitant, I thought he could see through my weak excuse of a reason to keep my son close to me. But after some time, he lifted his eyes to meet mine, giving me an inquisitive but accepting look.
“Alright, Dad, that sounds nice.” He said, as if expecting a catch to be added, but in a grateful tone.
Slowly, he moved closer to me again, electricity shooting through my body as I reached out and grabbed him to pull him closer. I maneuvered him on top of me, and I could feel the hardness attached to him as he shifted in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.
“Don’t worry, son, we’re both men, it’s natural,” I say in an attempt to reassure him. “I’ve got a similar problem myself!” I bark out a rumbly laugh, directing his gaze to my own growing hardness in my briefs.
Dylan laughed in a way that seemed to put him at ease. “I think you’re a bit more of a man than I am, Dad.”
I laughed, “Don’t worry, son, you’re all the man you need to be for me.” The comfortable weight of his body brought comfort to me; the ability to run my hands down the size of his back was that of a dream to me; to have my son so close and so trusting. I felt his head shift away from lying on one of my hairy pecs to slipping slightly down towards the notch of my armpit. Swiftly, I shifted, bringing one of his hands to rest on one of my pecs, his own bulge to mine, and his head pushed into my armpit as I lifted up my leg that was on the floor, I lifted up to wrap around Dylan's own legs, trapping him against my body.
Resting a muscular arm around and slowly rubbing his back, I say, “Get comfortable, son, you deserve a good rest.”
Dylan:
Waking up in the morning, my dreams had been beautifully plagued by what occurred yesterday afternoon. After returning home from hiking and having lunch, I massaged and took a nap with my father, nearly nude. I remember being guided into the crevasse of his armpit, his musk from a day of hiking washed away any commonsense I had left with his smell. The feeling of his hardness against mine was that of a fantasy to me; his large, hairy body under mine was one of the comforts I thought I could only achieve in my fantasies, and the slight stick of his sweaty skin was like a gravitational pull keeping me in. After we had woken from our nap, we made and ate dinner, conversation sparking between the two of us rather than the awkwardness that I expected to have followed after such an event. We watched a movie together afterwards, and proceeded to say our goodnights to each other as if we still weren't both in just our underwear and me still hard as a rock with a small wet spot at the tip of my tent. Dad simply said it was natural, and showed off his own hardness that was still bigger than mine, but I knew it was only half-erect despite the monstrous size in height and girth that was connected to a hairy bush peaking out of the top of his underwear all day.
I continued to fantasize as I went about my morning, while in the shower, I thought about how close we were at the lake together and what would’ve happened if one of us had suggested we go skinny dipping. While making myself breakfast, seeing that dad must’ve already gone to work, I thought about all the little actions he has done since I had gotten home that he normally didn’t do regularly.
He had become more advanced since the night I borrowed his underwear, but surely he would've said something by now, I thought while folding up laundry he must’ve put in the wash last night. It was about one o’clock when I finished up chores around the house, noting that a piece of underwear of mine was missing and couldn’t find it in all the normal places around the house. A piece of clothing may go missing.
Maybe it fell out in Dad's room, and he didn’t see it, I thought my mind was trying to figure out where it could have gone while also trying to find enough reason to go back into my dad's room again in hopes of finding something interesting.
Entering Dad’s room, I began to look around for the pair of blue briefs that had seemingly disappeared. After searching everywhere in visible sight of the room, I opened up the drawer attached to my father's nightstand. Inside, next to a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms that rested on a closed underscript box, lay my underwear.
What are these doing here? I pondered curiously, pulling them out. In the light, I could see that there were slightly visible stains on the fabric, with the largest stain on the inside of the underwear. Knowing that I didn’t stain this pair of underwear, I could only reason that my dad had stained it somehow. Bringing the retrieved briefs to my face, I could smell the unique aroma of cum coming off of them.
No way, I thought, in disbelief and amazement, overwhelming me. He used my underwear as a cum rag.
The thought spurred excitement and a little bit of jealousy as my cock twitched to life ever-so-slightly at the thought of my dad using my underwear as a rag, although I knew I would gladly offer my body as services for that instead. However, doubt filled my mind as I knew logically there was no way he could have used it to think about me. I had seen him too, and he clearly was getting off to someone that wasn’t me. He must have used this since it might have been the only thing accessible to him to clean himself off. I knew the argument felt weak, but I knew I couldn’t allow myself to believe that my very own father had sexual intentions towards me, too.
As if the thought of him manifested, my phone buzzed, and I could see that it was my dad calling. Quickly picking it up, I greeted him with a hello that was suspiciously fast.
“Hey, kiddo, I forgot a file needed for the contract on my desk this morning. I took my motorcycle to work this morning instead of my truck. The keys are by the door for it since I may need to load some things in the back. Would you mind driving to the construction site and bringing the papers for me?”
“Uhh, yeah, I can do that, no problem,” I responded, trying to center myself so I didn’t sound like I was a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“Everything okay, bud?” Dad asked, and I could detect some hesitancy in his voice of genuine concern.
“Yeah, Dad. Don’t worry, where’s the construction site?” I asked as I put the underwear back into the nightstand and quietly closed it.
Entering my dad's office after getting the address and hanging up, I saw the files lying in front of his monitor. Walking over to grab them is when I spotted the used jockstrap I had smelled a few days earlier laying on the chair, calling to me as if it were an alluring siren attempting to bring sailors to a watery grave. And like those sailors, I gave into lust and need as I ignored the files and brought the underwear up to my nose and inhaled. My father's musky sent filling my nose and warmed my lungs with each breath. I allowed my mind to sink into the fog of the aroma temporarily before dragging myself out of it, before I got too lost and allowed myself to jerk off in my father's office. Quickly, I dropped the underwear onto the chair again and grabbed the files and rushed to the door before a devious thought filled my mind with a whisper I could not ignore.
Put them on Dylan, think how hot it would be to wear something that’s touched your father's cock. To see him and his buddies while you secretly wear something of his. It’ll be like he’s secretly claiming you, the thought whispered seductively into my ear.
I hesitated slightly before giving in to the temptation, dropping my pants and removing my briefs in exchange for my father's red-and-black banded jockstrap with the stained white pouch. The pouch itself was loose as it was meant to hold something much bigger than me, but the bands that held it up were still snug enough to fit around my waist. Pulling my pants up and grabbing the files, I walked out the door, leaving my underwear in place where my dad was, at least for now.
Michael:
Arriving at work in the morning, I was met with a nice surprise of donuts being handed out by my friend Felix. Felix was a large man with a nicely sized beer belly that seemed to contrast with the large arms that he had from lifting heavy materials all day. He had short salt and pepper hair that matched his trimmed beard, showing his age, being slightly older than me by a year or so. He wore a white tank top today with messy brown work pants splattered with paint. Like me, he was a single father to a son, Matt, who was around the same age as Dylan. Felix, unlike me, was a single father due to his wife leaving him for some fling in Spain. He had nicely tanned skin with a sleeve of tattoos up his right arm that depicted surprisingly natural scenes. He loved being out in nature. From what I knew, he and his son often went camping together, and every once in a while, he would invite some of us with kids to join him and his son. Dylan and I were never able to attend, sadly, but to my understanding, they were great bonding activities.
“Michael! Good to see you this fine morning, should have those new tiles in within the hour.” He said, his voice not as deep as mine but more gravely. He had given up smoking a couple of years back after receiving a protest from his son to stop, which he seemed to listen to.
“Felix! Right back at you, and it sounds good. With any luck, we can finish this project in a couple of days.” I responded as I decided on a donut covered in white glaze. We worked for a small company, about twenty of us, men and women who were contracted by wealthy houseowners to build additional houses or other construction properties on their estates. Because there were so few of us, and wealthy people seemed to always add on additional costs, it was a good-paying job with a good sense of community.
“Mateo and Lucas, are they here yet?” I asked as I bit into my donut, the white glaze sticking to my mouth forcing me to wipe it away with the back of my hand.
“Yeah, they’re working on getting the barbecue installed right now,” Felix responded, closing the pink box and placing it on a nearby pool table. We had been contracted to construct an outdoor kitchen and poolhouse for some wealthy couple, whose husband kept changing the interior design while the wife kept changing the exterior color. The job was almost finished, besides some paint that still had to be applied, outfitting appliances, installing the new outdoor kitchen tiles, and whatever final touches that needed to be made. Because the job was nearly finished and we were working as a skeleton crew today for this project, just Mateo, Lucas, Felix, and I. We were all good friends, often hanging out after work and grabbing a drink and dinner together. All of us were single fathers to sons, the only single fathers to sons in the company besides Elayne, who was a single mother to a daughter and a son. Somehow, she made things work. I don't know how, but she did well for herself and her kids. But naturally, the single fathers of sons seemed to gravitate towards each other, and all became good friends. Mateo's son, Nico, was about two years older than Dylan, and Lucas’ adopted son, Devan, was about a year older than Dylan.
Walking over to the two, double-checking the space with some unknown plastic-wrapped appliance next to them, I greeted them with a wave.
“G’mornin’, Michael,” Lucas said, his southern drawl shifting the words. Followed by Mateo’s nod of his head, greeting me in his own Italian accent, said, "Good morning, Michael.”
Lucas had brown medium-length hair that had growing streaks of grey throughout him alongside a beard similar to mine, his build was a comfortable mix between mine and Felix’s, and, just like us had the strength and arms to prove it. Lucas had short dark hair with a bearded stubble; he may be the shortest out of all of us, but more toned than the rest.
As we got on with our work together, preparing the outdoor kitchen for tiles and installation. As we talked to pass the time, I eventually found myself praising Dylan and talking about the things he’s done in his first year at college.
“I take it it’s good having your son back,” Lucas laughed after I finished speaking.
“It’s been great, I feel,” I said, releasing a sigh of contentment. “We’ve been hanging out a fair amount. Went hiking together the other day and showed him how to skip rocks properly. After that, we even took a nap together like old times.” I laughed.
“Oh?” Mateo said, “In this heat?”
“Well, we had the AC running, plus we stripped down a bit together, so it wasn’t that bad.” I bit my tongue, not wanting to clue in that I was more distracted by having my son nearly nude in my arms with his cute bulge against my own, his face nearly in my unwashed and sweaty pits, and how his bubbly ass was in perfect view for me.
The three of them exchanged knowing looks with one another, as if speaking in a language that I didn’t know that used their eyes.
“The way you talk about him,” Lucas started, “Makes it sound like you have a crush.”
I could feel my cheeks redden, “That would be insane, Lucas,” I responded. Before I could continue, Felix stepped in.
“Listen, Micahel, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be fatherly for your son. Nothing wrong with wanting to be the best dad you can be, we all understand that.”
“Thanks,” I said with some unease in my voice, hesitant to reveal too much about my actions over the past couple of days.
“I know you two have had it a little bit hard, and it’s only natural for a father and son to have some feeling towards a sort of… companionship,” Lucas commented in a way that seemed to suggest some alternative motives.
“We all know what that’s like,” Mateo chimed in, “we’d be glad to help you two meet that connection.”
“Thanks, guys, we’ll see,” I said, curious about what my three friends might mean. Surely they don’t mean more than they suggest. I know what Dylan wants. I just don’t know the best way to go about getting him to admit it yet, besides teasing him. My thoughts drift back to what I left on my desk this morning. I had intentionally left behind a folder on my desk with the same jockstrap I saw my son using to get off. I knew at some point I should call him to get the files, read out some information, and see the jockstrap as a treat left for him for doing as I asked.
"You know, if he wanted to swing by, we could talk to him and give the impression you feel like the two of you could bond even more,” Felix said, shooting a mischievous look over to Lucas and Mateo.
“I did leave some files regarding payment at my desk. I could ask him to bring them to me.” I said, unsure why I was going with this random plan to get him to spend more time with me.
More time to tease him then, I suppose, I thought, appreciating the possibilities of what that might mean.
“So now, Michael, trust us when we say we won’t judge. In fact, we may be able to relate to you more than you realize. Tell us what it’s really been like with Dylan back.” Mateo said, his eyes beginning to shine with curiosity.
Dylan:
Arriving at the worksite, I pulled through a gate with a code my dad had given me. Parking in a large driveway, I walked around the mansion of a house to the back, where I could see a mostly completed structure attached to what seemed to be a nearly completed outdoor kitchen next to a pool, much larger than the one we had at home. Walking my direction, I saw Lucas, a large man, possibly taller than my dad, with large thighs held by pants that seemed a little too snug as they held a nearly pronounced bulge and a set of strong arms that complemented his barrel chest held by a shirt with enough buttons undone to show off his large, clean-shaven assets. They were not as big as my dad's, but still large enough to capture my gaze with the bounce of his walk. His brown and grey streaked hair on his head and face seemed to redden under the sun as he approached closer, showing off his similar, yet slightly older, age to my father. When he reached me, his southern drawl greeted me like warm molasses.
“Hey there, Dylan, good to see you.” His arms pulled me in for a hug, my face planting between what distracted my gaze. He smelled of musk and pine, surely some cologne mixed with his natural aroma.
“Lucas! Good to see you,” I exclaimed, breath leaving my body as his large arms squeezed me tight before eventually releasing me. The red on my face was hopefully explained by the hug he had given me, rather than the truth of just his smell and strength. “I brought some files that my dad needed.”
“Ah, good boy!” He praised me, sending a shiver down my spine like sweet honey with his voice. “Your father has been praising and talking non-stop about you when he can.”
“If I didn’t know better, it’s like he has a crush on you.” A raspy secondary voice said from behind, as Felix walked up behind Lucas. Wearing paint-stained workers' pants, overshadowed by a strong, fat body. He wore a white tank top, which allowed his hair pits to peek underneath his large arms. Felix was a bear of a man, large with hair all over; I could see him wearing all leather or being on a bear dating app. He ran his large hands through his sweaty salt-and-pepper spotted hair and beard before pulling me into a hug of his own, my face planted into his wet, sweaty pits. My nose was met with an aroma of manly musk that made my mouth water. After being held for a couple of seconds, I was guided away from it, my face flushed once again from the interaction as I met his eyes.
“Good to see you, Felix,” I stammered, trying to regain my composure.
“Your dads this way,” He said as Lucas grabbed me by the shoulders, guiding me toward the poolhouse being constructed. “How’s college been, huh? Getting any action? I’m sure a fella like you with an ass like that, surely you’ve gotten somethin. Got a Boyfriend?”
I laugh, surprised to know that he knew I was gay. “A little, I suppose, Felix. And no, no boyfriend yet.” I finished, a touch of sadness dripped out as my thoughts lingered on my dad.
“Tell me, has he taken care of you yet? Did what any good father should do? If he hasn’t, I might take a swing.” Felix responded with a laugh, seemingly picking up on the hint of sadness.
“What are you talking about?” I said, shock covering my voice in an attempt to hide any sort of desperation that might be present.
“Please, boy, the way he talks about you is the way I used to talk about my wife,” Felix said with a grin. “Plus, I’ve worked with the man for a long time; I would recognize this band anywhere.”
Felix reached towards my waist and pulled at a slightly revealed strap of my father's underwear that peeked out from my pants.
Red fully filled my face with embarrassment. How did they realize so quickly? What are they going to do? Seeing my panic, Lucas softly held my chin and directed my gaze towards him.
“Hey, bud, it’s fine, it’s natural for a son to want to be close with his father.” He said in a soothing tone as if his voice was medicine to my anxiety.
As we neared the poolhouse, Mateo stepped out. Mateo was shorter compared to everyone else besides me, having an inch or two on me. His body rippled with the perfect amount of muscles that stretched against his paint-stained white workers' shirt as if his chest and shirt were held back by the fabric. As he approached to meet us, he wiped sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt, revealing a sculpted set of abs with a trail of hair leading down into his jeans. He was shorter than the other two and my dad, but still much taller than me, around 6 feet.
“What are these two grunts teasing you about, Dylan?” Mateo says, greeting me with a handshake.
Before I could say anything, Felix chimes in, “Just tellin' little Dylan over here that it’s okay to bond with his father.”
Mateo laughs, his eyes twinkling with a knowing look. “It’s important to share a special father-son relationship, y'know.”
With the three men behind me, I find myself being ushered into the poolhouse. Inside, it smells of fresh paint, various tools lie strewn about, and plastic-wrapped objects sit in various places. Inside, my dad turns around, glaring at the three men behind me.
“What are you three up to?” He said, crossing his arms in suspicion.
“Nothin’ that doesn’t help you, Michael,” Lucas responds, which earns an agreeing laugh from Mateo.
Dad steps forward, towards me, his eyes dropping to the file in my hands. “Thanks for bringing this, kiddo. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, Dad,” I respond, trying not to make eye contact and hoping that Felix and Lucas don’t tell him that I am wearing his underwear.
The sound of eyes avoiding contact seemed to be the only sound that filled the void as an awkward silence filled the room.
It remained this way till Felix broke the silence with a sense of annoyance and impatience. “Go on, Michael, tell him what you told us already, for goodness sake.”
I looked up at my dad, our eyes meeting for what seemed like eternity. He cleared his throat and then began to speak. “Dylan, I have been, no, I know you’ve been sneaking peaks at me, smelling my scent, cleaning… things.”
My heart began to race, fear and panic gripped my mind as I prepared for the worst.
“I saw you that night, son, and since then, I can’t seem to get you out of my mind. My dreams have been filled with you, and I thought I could hide it and push it down even though I knew how you felt. But my friends told me how important a special bond between father and son is.”
My heart continued to race, but the reasoning had shifted from panic to confusion and anticipation. Just what exactly was my father saying?
“You have no idea what you do to me, kiddo, but I know what I do to you.” He said his hand reached up and grabbed my neck in a delicate choke, while another wrapped around my body.
“Tell me right now that you don’t want this if you don’t, kiddo. But otherwise I won’t be able to stop. It’s a father's duty to take care of his son, and I can sense that you need to be taken care of, desperately.”
Everything seemed surreal, like this was a dream and I was going to wake, but I could feel the firmness and warmth of my father's hands, the tough and loving tone of his voice, I could feel the grins of the men behind me, and most importantly, I could feel the strain in my pants and his.
“Dad…” I whispered, “I feel so empty when I’m not with you, please, show me the meaning behind a fathers lo-” before I could finish, my dad's lips were on mine. Like ice on a hot day, I melted into his arms and gave in to desire. His tongue attacked my mouth, which I could only meet with a meek defense in surprise as I relished in the feeling. My arms wrapped around his strong body as much as they were able to, not wanting him to pull away for any reason. As if mirroring me, his grip around my throat and body tightened as a primal growl emerged from him as I bit playfully on his bottom lip. He held me there, our mouths connected for what seemed like forever and yet too short before we broke apart, breathing in air instead of each other.
“Son,” he breathed, staring into my eyes. To which I responded, “Dad.”
“About time by the sounds of it,” Mateo said from behind me, and I could hear the grin in the words.
“Listen, Michael, if you don't have the opportunity to show little Dylan here a father's love, I will.” Said Felix, who sounded as if he was grinning as well.
A growl came from my dad, staring daggers past me. “I’ll be damned if I let either one of you take my son before I do.”
He looked down at me, his gaze softening, unlike my cock. “If you want to, that is.”
“Please, Dad,” my voice slipped into a tone of begging. “Show me what only a father can give.”
“Good boy,” Dad praised me, pulling me to the center of the room where a plastic-wrapped couch sat. He maneuvered me in front of the couch before sitting down, his legs spread.
“Strip.” He commanded me, his voice deep and powerful. Without hesitation, I obeyed, removing my shirt, followed by my socks and pants. As my pants dropped, my dad's eyebrows raised at seeing his underwear where mine should’ve been.
In a sudden burst of movement, he grabbed me, manhandling me until I was draped over his lap with my ass pointed up into the air. “I left those out as a treat, and as cute as it is on you, you need to learn to ask permission before taking something that belongs to someone.”
I felt a hand slap against my ass, the sudden spark of his hand against my flesh hurt slightly, but felt twice as good as any pain it made me feel. Another spank slapped my ass, the pain and pleasure scouring my body for a place of release, and I found it in a boyish moan that tumbled from my lips. My hands bunched into fists as another slap landed on my ass, forcing my now-hard cock to twitch in my father's jockstrap.
My father's other hand grabbed my hair with a sense of firmness and strength, but a lovingness of not wanting to pull too hard. He angled my head to look at the door, where Felix, Lucas, and Mateo all stood watching us with wide grins on their faces and their hands unbuckling their pants.
“Tell them you deserve this punishment, boy. Tell them what you did and ask for forgiveness from me.” Dad ordered, another slap landing on my ass that seemed to push out precum I could feel building at my tip already.
I- I deserve this punishment,” I repeated, “I took my dad's-” A slap landed against my curved ass. “I took my daddy’s underwear without permission. Please forgive me.”
Looking at the three men, each of them was pulling their cocks out of their pants. Their manhoods were growing firm with the show that my dad and I were giving them. Mateo's cock was thin, but rather long and curved, with veins perfectly detailing his growing length. Felix’s cock, beautifully wrapped in a sweaty bush, was the smallest of the three, but his cock had the girth of a soda can and was still bigger than mine. Lucas was a sexy mix of the two, smaller in length and thickness compared to my dad, but was thicker than Mateo and longer than Felix. It was a mouthwatering sight to behold before my vision was moved up by force as my father pulled my head up.
“Good boy. Now get down on your knees and undress your daddy.” His voice whispered into my ear with a sense of firmness that could have made me cum right there.
Getting onto my knees, I began to untie his work boots, pulling each one off with a tug. Above me, Dad pulled off his shirt, revealing his handsome body covered in the perfect amount of hair above me, his chest seemingly calling to me, and his arms bulging with the strength and sweat of the day. Lost in the sight of my father, his socked foot planted in my face, the smell of his sweat and the heat of his body overwhelming me.
“Remove.” He commanded, as if he were impatient with me staring at his masculine form.
Wanting to prove myself to my dad, I removed the socks from both his feet, planting kisses on both as I did as a show of my devotion. Once removed, I looked up at my father, waiting for my next order.
"Good boy, you’re learning,” He said with a smile on his face. “Now remove my pants.”
Grinning, I pulled down on his pant legs with a sense of urgency and desperation, needing to know what he would tell me to do next. Freeing his legs from his pants, I threw them aside, which landed with a thud. Behind me, I could hear the three men stroking their cocks, their grunts, and the occasional sound of slick hand against slick cock reverberated out. Before I could look behind me to see them, my dad's hand found its place on my head again, and brought me close to his heaving bulge.
“Do you want this son? Do you want to warm my cock with your face? To smell my unwashed cock?” My dad said, his tone slightly teasing, as if talking to a dog.
“Yes, Daddy,” I said with a nod. Immediately, my head was pulled into the crevasse between his thighs, where the massive bulge in red briefs that had a growing wet spot, and held there. My father's scent overpowered me, scattering whatever thoughts and concerns I had left to the wind. I inhaled deeply as I found myself indulging in my new favorite scent, my tongue lolling out to clean the growing wetness, and greeted the musky salted taste that leaked onto my tongue.
“Since that day, I stopped taking showers for you, boy, you should be more grateful that your dad cares for you so.” He said, his tone now shifted back to the firm and demanding voice from before.
His grip tightened on my head as he pushed my face further into his bulge, my face seemingly under his covered cock and directly in front of his balls, most likely. My tongue continued to explore as my mouth sucked as if it were sucking much-needed nutrients out of something. I felt my father's hand slap my ass again, which earned a series of cheers from the men behind me. I wiggled my butt at them, making sure to show off what my dad sought to claim. Lucas whistled, which earned a growl from my father, and his voice, low and fatherly, found my ears.
“I think you’re thinking too much about them. Maybe you need to be shown what your attention should be directed to.” Dad said, his voice protective and labored. “You may remove my underwear, son.”
With excitement, I removed my head from his crotch; the absence of warmth from him immediately filled me with cold, but I knew I would find my way back there soon. Grabbing the band of his underwear, I slowly pulled it down. With care, I began to reveal more and more of my dad, first his hairy bush greeted me, shining with a hard day's work amount of sweat, then the hidden base of his enormous cock, seemingly as thick as my forearm. Moving down, I revealed inch by inch the length of my father to a total of around a little more than eight inches when his cock finally sprang free, nearly hitting me in the face. My mouth was watering, being so close, I could still smell him despite not being right up against his underwear. Pulling his underwear all the way off him, I gave it a sniff before discarding it, knowing that the source of its scent was right there in front of me, ready for the taking upon permission. Looking up at him, I begged with my eyes, knowing that he wanted me to wait before acting.
“You look like such an eager pup, son. Is this what you want? To taste daddy's cock?” He said, pushing and pulling his cock up and down as if to hypnotize me with its movement.
“Yes, Daddy, please let me,” I said, my head nodding and words slurring, distracted by the sight.
With a smirk and a chuckle, Dad said, “Very well, pup, show me what a good son you are.”
Moving forward, I grabbed hold of his cock, my hands wrapping around its size. His own hands moved to my body, rubbing wherever they pleased as if he were memorizing the feeling of my smooth skin. Slowly, I stuck out my tongue and ran it across the bottom length of his cock, sending a shiver down my spine and his as I felt his entire being shake. The salty unwashed taste of him seemed to imprint on my tongue, the exotic flavor dancing around my mouth and crying out as if begging for more. To satiate the newfound craving, I ran my tongue along the length of the cock again, this time finding my way to his hairy and sweaty balls. The salty taste of sweat greeted me, along with a similar flavor to his cock, but still uniquely different. My tongue swirled around his balls, getting lost in the unique flavor before drifting back up the dick that made me. At the tip of my tongue was met with the slightly salty taste of strong precum, a reminiscent echo from what I had tasted in the flashlight the other day. Before I opened my mouth, I hesitated, not knowing if I would be able to fit it comfortably in my mouth, but my dad's voice carried me out of any concern.
“You got this, kiddo, you’re gonna take me so good with your sexy mouth,” Dad said, his voice warm with compassion and desire.
With renewed confidence, I staked my face onto his cock, my mouth enveloping his length as much as I could. I felt more complete than I ever had with any other guy I had been with. No man made me feel this way alone in my mouth; his taste, his smell, his strength seemed to become my entire world. Slowly, I began to bob up and down his length. With each movement, I pushed myself deeper onto him, wanting to take him entirely. My tongue swirled around his tip as if milking it for salty nectar that I needed to live. My nose inhaled every time I got closer to his hairy bush to get a whiff of his scent mixed with his wet cock. Grunts and groans emanated from above and behind me, my dad loudest of all.
“Fuck Dyl, you’re so fucking good at this.” He said out of breath, “Fuck, son.”
His hand landed on my head, his fingers tightening in my hair as he slowly began to move his hips with the movements of my mouth. His hand keeping my head in place allowed him to take more control of me. Soon, it evolved into him fucking my mouth, my face simply a hole for my father to use as he saw fit. A string of praises mixed with degradation tumbled out of him like spicy honey.
“You’re such a good slut boy, my son is such a perfect whore for his daddy, to think you’re showing yourself off like this to them, such a brave boy,” He said in labored breath.
I felt only bliss as he spoke to me, my mind completely lost in the strength that used my mouth in the way that he saw fit. My hands, which were placed on the ground to support, began to drift towards my still-covered cock, not caring if I had permission to touch myself or not. Slowly, I began to stroke myself off through the cloth of my dad's jockstrap as my dick was so hard it seemed to hurt, as a healthy flow of precum flowed out and moistened the pouch of the underwear. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of my throat and his shaft gliding across my tongue was a beautifully violent feeling of ecstasy and aggression. My lungs burned with the lack of air, and my throat fought back out of reflex, but still my body took it as if it were the key to my very existence, and in a certain way, it was.
My dad pulled back from a violent thrust and peeled my face off his cock, a string of spit and precum tied my mouth to his cock, still even while parted. I looked up at him with wet eyes, begging to be put back in my proper place as my chest heaved, gathering what air I could.
“You’re such a good boy, son, you take me so well.” He growled, his voice filling my ringing head. “Don’t think I don’t notice you touching yourself down there, son. I’ll allow it this time if you can get me off.”
As if on instinct, my mouth fully opened again, and this time, my own body moved before I could think as I plunged myself back onto his cock. Moving up and down, I bobbed my head, gurgling and slick sounds of wet movement emanate from where I sat beneath his legs. I continued to rub my cock through the fabric of his jockstrap as I pushed as far down as I could go onto his dick, the smell of my spit, his precum, and sweaty bush overwhelming my nose as his salty taste alone filled my mouth with his precum and my spit. Pulling myself off his cock I spit on it, further glossening it up and stroking it with one of my hands, making his cock seem even larger when I held it. Bringing my face in deeper, I planted it between his sweaty balls and tried to fit the large sacks into my mouth as I massaged the sweat and hair-covered balls with my tongue, sending out a series of groans from my dad. Behind me, I could hear the moans and grunts from the three men jerking off at the show, each one surely dripping with their own precum at the sight of me worshipping my father. Moving up, I planted my nose directly in his bush, allowing his smell to cradle my nose with his scent. Obsessed, I stayed there as I blindly stroked his cock for a moment before dragging my face along his length. Upon reaching the end, my dad grabbed his cock from my grip and smacked me repeatedly in the face with the wet cock, leaving a wet spot on my cheek where his dick had landed.
“Stop teasing me, kiddo, and get back to work, show me what a cock hungry pup you are, son.” He said, his cock maneuvered directly in front of my mouth.
Opening again, I welcomed the powerful sensation of his masculine dick inside my mouth, the tears of pleasure and service began to roll down my cheeks as I took his near entire length again and again.
The strength and intensity of his precum was beginning to accumulate, and by the sounds of his increased groans and snarls, I knew I was doing a good job if he could no longer string words together good enough to praise me. I swirled my tongue along his tip when his cock was nearly fully out of my mouth, memorized the path and location of his beating veins as I went down on my father, and when I reached the base, my tongue tasted the entire length of his musky cock, further enhanced by the smell of his bush. I knew I was getting close myself; my strokes had grown from slow and gentle on my dick to furious and desperate, but I knew I had to wait for my daddy to cum with me. As I pulled my mouth back up his length, I swirled my tongue on his head, slightly applying pressure to it before taking him back to his base, my warm mouth squeezing around him as if to milk his glorious cock.
“I’m so close, Dylan, fuck, you’re doing such a good job, son, Dyl-“ his voice snarling with lust, desperation, and pleasure as his body began to tense up.
Retracting my mouth far enough to where I still had my dad's dick in my warm mouth, but still had open space, my dad's hands grabbed my head and held it in place. With an animalistic grunt, my father's hips bucked, and his warm, sticky seed filled my mouth as a wave of his salty cum shot out of his cock. Pulse after pulse of thick salty cum poured into my mouth as I struggled to gulp down the onslaught of his seed that threatened to spill out of my mouth. My own cock erupted at the sensation of his load being deposited into my mouth as if fed to me, pulsating into my dad's jockstrap. Waves of ecstasy rolled over me, my eyes tipping back in my head as I allowed the sensation of both of our releases to sweep me away. After a moment, the flood of cum dwindled, and my father pulled back, his cock departing from the warmth and wetness of my mouth with a satisfying pop.
“Shit, Dylan, did you really swallow all of it?” He asked, resulting in my opening my mouth to show it had all been devoured as if I was dying of starvation.
“Such a good boy making me so proud like that,” He praised, his hand rubbing my head with an approving nod. “And you made such a mess in my underwear, such a good boy making me so proud.”
His praise was uplifting in a way that should’ve been demeaning, but right now it felt like the best thing in the whole world. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and carefully tried to stand, but stumbled as my legs wobbled from the electric energy still flowing through me.
My dad caught me, his mouth finding mine as he indulged us with a kiss, one deep and passionate that told me everything was going to be okay.
“By the look of you, I’ve thoroughly messed up this hole. What do you say about me ruining your other one?” He asked, his voice suggestive yet demanding.
“Please, daddy, claim me as yours,” I whispered as a wall of fatigue washed over me.
Carefully, he helped me stand up and removed his dripping jockstrap from around my waist, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. My own cock still standing upright, glistening, covered in my cum rubbed against his belly as I sat on his lap, straddling his massive lap. I could feel his still-hard cock rubbing against my back with the slickness of my own spit mixed with his cum. My dad caught something thrown to him, a small, clear bottle that I could only assume to be lube, as I heard him pop it open behind me.
“Alright, son, I’m going to start to prepare you for me. I know I am big, but we’re going to try to fit me inside you anyway. How about you take the time to explore my body as I loosen you up, sound good, Dyl?” He asked, his tone shifting from the commanding and firm tone from earlier to one of a warm and fatherly tone.
I nodded and pressed my face into his neck, inhaling his scent alone. As I felt him preparing his hands with lube, I kissed my way down his shoulder, finding myself at his armpit, which produced a smell unlike anything I had ever smelled before. It was powerful and masculine, yet had a special sharpness of Old Spice to it that didn't make it overly pungent, but rather a rich mixture of his natural musk.
“You like my smell, don’t you, son? He asked as two of his fingers, slick with cold lube, circled around my hold, which clenched with excitement. He raised his arm where my head was, allowing me to fully envelop my face underneath him.
He laughed at my movement and muttered something, with me only hearing him say the word ‘son’. Carefully, one of his fingers began to enter my hole, which pushed out a sudden gasp from me as I felt my father enter me. Methodically, he began to fuck me with his finger, slow at first, but he was picking up the pace. Flashes of pleasure shot through me like hot steel. I could hear Mateo and Lucas laugh behind me as my back arched when Dad entered another meaty finger of his. Slowly, his two fingers circled around my hole in an attempt to loosen me enough. Slowly, I grinded myself against my dad's furry belly as I inhaled everything I could of him, my tongue sticking out to kiss and lick wherever my face found a place to worship. When a third finger was added to my already full hole, my hips bucked as I felt him prepare me even further.
“I think you’re ready for me, kiddo. I know you can do this.” He said, pulling my head out of his pit, greeting me with a kiss.
We kept our mouths together as I felt him lube up his cock, our tongues entwined with our shared devotion for one another. Slowly, he removed his fingers from my hole, leaving me with an empty feeling, suddenly missing his presence inside me. However, the void left behind was soon teased with being filled again as my dad's large cock rubbed against my entrance, as if knocking on my door to let me know he was there. Raising my ass up, Dad positioned himself underneath me, his massive cock poking at my throbbing hole as if to tease me with his presence. Slowly, I lowered myself onto him as my dad's hips rose from beneath me. My gasp of pain and ecstasy was caught by his mouth as he entered my slick hole, his cock slowly sliding into me. He was only halfway in when I felt like I was completely full, my eyes were seeing spots of white under my closed eyelids as pain and pleasure rocked my body. Slowly, he pulled back, his hips and cock lowering before thrusting up again, this time going even deeper in. I felt like I was going to be split in two by his enormous size, but with each slow thrust, my body opened itself further to him.
“Please, Daddy, P-please! Want you so bad. Need to feel you. Want you to fuck me senseless...hgnnn Please!.” I moaned against his lips, desperate to fill the burning hunger building up within me, the burning pain being smothered by the feeling of his enormous rod buried deep inside me.
“Anything for you, son?” He murmured before smacking my ass with a free hand and grabbing my cock with his other. “Fuck you feel so tight, kiddo, it’s fucking heaven.”
With each thrust that grew in power and speed, he rubbed my red, weeping cock, my wetness dripping onto his hand and hairy stomach. The sound of his balls slapping against the plastic mixed with the erotic harmony of our shared moans and cries of pleasure washed out any other sound. The only thing to occasionally break through were the pleading sounds of desperation from me and the warming praises that emerged from my father's bruised lips between hard kisses.
“Please, daddy, oh gods, oh fuck more. Stuff me full!” I panted between stolen breaths before returning to the barrage of kisses between us.
“You’re doing such a good job taking me son, you’re being such a good boy, I’m so lucky to have you as a son.” The words were enough to make me cum alone, but I kept back my second load with whatever internal strength I could muster. Each thrust from him, however, threatened to break the wall I built inside me, threatening to release a torrent of cum from me as he hit my pleasure spot over and over again. My eyes wept in the beautiful feeling of the pleasure as tears of ecstasy rolled down my warm cheeks as if my dad's cock were seemingly fucking them out of me.
I knew I was being turned into a mess, that my hole would be utterly ruined forever as it molded itself around his cock and seemingly memorized the veins of his textured cock. Never in my life have I ever felt so full and in so much pleasure from a dick. Any other man that I had taken seemed like nothing compared to the strength of my father's cock beneath me. My body bounced up and down on his lap as if I was riding his knee, with his cock moving in and out, which was like the best ride I have ever ridden in my life. It was like all the worries of the world had melted away with each powerful thrust, and with each time he was nearly buried to the hilt in me was another chance I would squirt out whatever remained in my balls all over his torso.
I rode his cock as best as I could for a handful of minutes, my moans growing louder and my kisses growing sloppier as his dick thrusted inside of me. I had restrained myself as best as I could for my dad, but I knew the dam was about to burst with each hammer from his cock.
“Daddy, I’m going to cum soon, I can’t hold it.” I cried, my sloppy kiss spreading spit into his beard as I missed his lips when his cock buried entirely inside me.
“You’ve earned it, son, make daddy proud, cum from riding on my cock.” He whispered into my ear as if it were just for us and us alone to hear.
I let myself go, relishing in the pleasure of the release, throwing my head back. My entire body spasmed from the orgasm as multiple thick ropes of white cum shot out like a fountain from my cock. Ropes painted my smooth torso and splattered across my dad's hairy chest. His hand still milked my cock for every last drop, now thoroughly soaked in my juices. I could feel my hole clench around his cock with each spasm as if to urge my father to unleash his load inside of me. Seeing me ride the high of release, my father lifted the hand that was once wrapped around my cock to my face, his hand was dripping in my spent seed. Without hesitation, I began to service him by licking it clean, finger by finger, I sucked him till no trace of my release was left on his hand.
“Fuck you’re such a cumslut aren’t you, boy?” He asked, which earned a nod from me as I moaned as his cock punched into me again, all the way. “Fuck, you’re such a tight hole. From now on, I’m only using you, nothing else, okay, kiddo?”
I nodded my head repeatedly with an eagerness to serve. My dad wanted me all alone from now on; it was like a dream come true. The thought alone caused my hole to clench again, resulting in my dad releasing another primal grunt. My upheld cock slapped against his belly as his already fast and powerful thrusts picked up more speed, and I could tell by the look on his face and the tenseness growing in his body that he was nearing his own release.
“AHH- Fuck daddy, fill me up-” I begged, urging him on.
With a growl, he bit down with just enough pressure for me to feel on my shoulder, resulting in my hands digging into his back. The sudden pain was met with a sudden feeling of warmth as I felt him unleash inside of me. Torrents of his cum unloaded into me, painting my walls with the seed that made me. The world went white for me again as another, smaller squirt of cum from my cock shot out in response to the overwhelming sensation of his sticky load filling me. His mouth crashed with mine, our teeth clashing and tongues immediately finding the warmth of each other's mouths. My dad's thrusting slowed but remained constant as if to fuck his seed further into me, burying so deep that it would forever be a part of me, and in some ways, it already was. I knew I never wanted this feeling of fullness to end. The weight of his cock and the warmth of his milk made me feel fuller than I ever had. The feeling before with just his cock felt like an appetizer, and this was the main course.
Behind me, the howls of the three men climaxing filled my ears, and I felt drops of warmth splatter my back with their seeds; seemingly, they too found their release in seeing my father cum.
My dad's thrusts came to a stop, and our mouths parted. The sound of our bodies rubbing against each other faded as heavy breathing filled the room. Resting my head on his warm chest, I could hear the rapid speed of his heartbeat, and I could’ve fallen asleep right there if it wasn’t for the knowledge that we had an audience. I could feel my dad's cock begin to soften, but still hard within me. Despite my body's best attempts, I could feel the warmth of his cock seeping out of my ass, dripping onto his balls beneath me.
“Dad-” I started before trailing off, not certain what to say.
“I know, kiddo, I know.” He responded, one hand cupping my ass to hold me up, the other rubbing my back in a caring fashion.
Diverting my gaze behind me, I could see the three men with their cocks out still. Slowly softening, I could see the majority of the aftermath on the floor, with streaks of cum painting the ground in watery streaks.
Some part of me still could not make sense of the situation, but I knew that I would rather be nowhere else right now, that all I needed in life was all in this very room.
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