This story is a long, multi-chapter male-pregnancy story, in world where that happens.
My son Braden brought in a couple of beers - I'd been cutting back and was on a fitness kick, but this felt like a special occasion. But as he set them down on the side table he knelt down in front of the couch, his thick muscle filling out his black T-shirt and jeans.
I had a good idea what was going to happen. "Um, Brade... this is supposed to be YOUR homecoming," I said.
My son looked up at me. He had a killer smile, and some gorgeous looks he'd partly inherited from his mother, fair haired, ruddy complected, cute dimples. The square jaw, roman nose, and brown eyes were mine, though.
"It is, Dad," he said. God, somehow his voice had gotten deeper during his deployment. "I've been thinking about this for months." His hands reached forward and undid my belt then the button of my khakis.
"You sure, buddy?" I asked. We'd moved past the furtive, guilty phase, but this was incest, and I was always looking for a way to put the breaks on things with Braden.
"Sure, I'm sure, Dad." His fingers skill fully peeled down my briefs and pulled out my growing dong. I topped out at 7 and a half inches, and very thick. Braden had almost a carbon copy of my dick, just a smidge shorter, only I'd left his foreskin on. But he wasn't concerned about pulling out his own meat. Instead, he examined my heft and pulled it toward him. "Sit back and let me take care of you."
And like that my hunky Marine son started to give me a slow, loving blowjob.
***
I've made mistakes in life, God knows, but Braden wasn't one of them. Even if he was the result an unplanned pregnancy - wouldn't you know... my swimmers did the job the first time I got laid at 16. I did the right thing in marrying Susan, and we were a good team, at first. Me working full time even as I got my econ degree in college. And me somehow fitting in my CFA studying in between work and child care.
Susan and I made it work, until it didn't. There was no love and no sex, just a partnership in raising our kid. Braden was 8 when we divorced. The only bad part was seeing my son go through that, and visiting with him only on custody weekends and holidays.
He rebelled in his teen years. Brade was good at sports, or more accurate to say that's all he cared about. He refused to take school seriously, and the more I got on his case the more he actively resisted doing homework. Susan, god bless her, tried everything from punishment to incentives, but Braden was a solid C kid who failed sophomore English and had to do summer school.
I was pissed as hell and tried to give him a tough love lecture. Tell him he was going to fuck up his future if he didn't take school seriously. That was the first and last time Braden talked back to me. Calling me a dumb prick and a controlling asshole who wanted to be a parent only when I was in the mood to be. I was enraged, but I held it in.
After that, it was like something shifted. Brade never became a star student, but he apologized to me. He opened up about his emotions, and we talked through them. I assured him I'd be better about being there for him. I could be a workaholic, since that was my way of dealing with divorce and realizing I was mostly gay. I finally told Braden that his dad was a homosexual and may at some point date another man. No time soon. I wasn't sure what I expected but my surly jock son clasped in me in a tight hug. "Me, too, Dad," he said. When he pulled back he was tearing up some. "I haven't told anyone," he said. "Don't have the guts."
That was an emotional connection with my son that I wasn't expecting.
I still had a demanding job, but I made an effort to see all of Brade's football games and to catch some of his practices too. And then, in Spring, catching wrestling meets.
I'd been frustrated that my son was growing into a man very much the opposite of me. Then I came to love him for who he was. Custody visits stopped feeling like an obligation for him, and something he looked forward to.
Our first kiss just happened. Maybe there was a little sexual tension there, but Braden and I were hanging out and eye contact grew and a spark happened between us. I leaned in just a little. Braden leaned in the rest of the way. He was nervous, and so was I. But our lust took over. The forbidden aspect made us insanely horned for each other.
We made out and groped each other and stripped our clothes off. Right there in the living room, Braden made a beeline for my hard cock.
"God, I've dreamed of this, Dad," he whispered as he wrapped his fingers around the base and pulled it to his lips. "So much."
"Buddy...!" I urged in a tone that let him know he didn't have to do this. But that I wanted it.
It felt great. That was an understatement. It was the mind fuck of incest and the fantasy of seeing my jock son service me - all come to life. I wasn't Brade's first cock, I could tell, but he was still green. Innocent in his way.
I warned him I was about to cum. He sucked harder and moaned. I watched my hunky son take my load and swallow every drop.
I could taste my cum in our kiss when he finally pulled off and I gripped his neck to pull him in toward me.
"Let me do you, Sport," I urged. I was very much in the receiving is better than giving category when it came to sex, and it turns out there was a good supply of men on Grindr who were happy with that arrangement. But Brade deserved some recip head from his Dad.
That dick was a challenge, and I blushed at how much easier Braden had sucked my big cock than I was doing him. But it didn't matter. I loved the taste of him and the knowledge I had my own son's dick in my mouth. Pushing into my throat with each bob.
Brade went wild. He came buckets. I did my best.
As I finally pulled off and licked around his foreskin the best I could without overstimulating him, I heard him say simply and softly. "Thank you, Dad."
***
I took Braden's cherry the night before he shipped out to Basic Training. He didn't ask me to, and I didn't ask him if he wanted it. I just started rimming him, licking and feasting on his nearly hairless hole before I reached for the lube. As I locked eyes on him and slid one finger in and out, then two, then three, I knew Brade was ready. I wanted him so bad just then, but more than that I wanted to connect with him in the most intimate way before he went away.
Lord knows I'd lectured him about using protection. Even if Braden was the light of my life, I didn't want him facing an early pregnancy like I did as a teen. So I sheathed up my thick piece of dad meat before I slowly entered him.
I could tell it stung, maybe a lot, but Brade was a trooper. Holding on to me. Feeling up the chest muscle he loved. Focusing on the act he'd dreamed of. Pretty soon, he was feeling it, the pleasure of bottoming. It's something I'd tried only a couple of times before I realized I enjoyed topping a lot more. But Braden was getting very into it. His insides opened for me and his whole body seemed to receive the fuck, his thick athletic legs pulled back, his angelic face pleading with me as much as his deepening jock voice. "Fuck me, Dad!" he said aloud into private space of the master bedroom.
My hips began pumping for real. I'd never been so hard or so much in a sexual frenzy. I wanted this first time to last, but I knew it couldn't, not with how worked up I was and how quickly Braden was approaching orgasm. His 7-incher throbbed and jutted off his crunched abs, leaking like crazy, then quivering like his voice.
"Dad!" he hissed, his eyes widening in disbelief. I was gonna get my Brade across the finish line to a hands-free cum.
I powered the last strokes with that goal.
My son's grip on my body grew tighter, an eagle talon's grip, and his voice climbed to a high whimper.
It was a glorious sight watching that teen cock shoot unaided, all over his body. I could smell the fresh scent of sperm and see the light of the lamp make the white splotches stand out more on his still largely smooth body.
I'm the kind of guy who can't cum with a condom on. But I came inside one while I fucked my son. The sensation and physical thrill was incredible, but mostly it was the idea that Braden was fully a man now.
He loved watching me nut, and I could see a big smile sweep across his face, and a laugh came out of him. He was riding some major sex endorphins, too.
"Way to go, Dad!" he enthusiasm.
"Buddy..." I started. "Goddamn..." I reached down and held on to the rubber as I extracted my dick from my son's ass. No longer vice tight I thought lewdly as I watched my condom-sheathed head clear the breach, a heavy reservoir of cum at the end. Fucking Brade had inspired one of my healthier cum loads.
My son's eyes were on that bulbous tip. "Let me drink that, at least," he urged.
Jesus.
I nodded and scooted up in the bed, waving my still turgid dick in front of him. "Serve yourself, Sport."
His fingers peeled at the rubber and gingerly tugged it off. He brought it to his lips and up ended, taking the semen into his mouth like a shooter. Braden moaned excitedly as he swirled my cum in his mouth before swallowing it. That alone was enough to keep me rock hard.
Wide eyed, my son then discarded the spent condom and then turned back to take me into his mouth.
"You're too good to me, Sport," I hissed.
***
I told myself it was sex. Fooling around of the naughtiest kind. My own goddamn kid. The only thing that kept me from feeling completely guilty is that Braden wanted sex even more than I did. Anytime he came home we found ways to get it on nonstop. Long slow sessions at night. Him giving me road head. Us sneaking into a bathroom stall for a quickie. I got a big box of Trojans and learned to carry a couple on me at all times.
We had our first date night. And the next homecoming our first argument. We were still the odd couple, and Braden resented when I asked him what he wanted to do with his life after the Marines.
"You're just mad I didn't clear enlisting with you first," he said bitterly.
"Come on, Brade," he said. But he was right.
I was in the doghouse the next couple of nights, sleeping on the couch. Part of me resented the fact I was exiled from my bedroom, but the fact I considered it mine instead of ours - after all the ways Braden had given his body to me, after all the pleasure we'd had together - was part of the problem.
I apologized. A real apology, not a Bill half-assed apology. I told him I was in love with him.
My big tough Marine son melted at that. He got off of the kitchen stool and met me in a bear hug. "God, Dad. I love you so much. For real." My son didn't show emotion a lot, but he was better at it than me. I hugged back.
Then we kissed. A real lover's kiss. A boyfriend's kiss. Soft, sensual. I didn't want that kiss to end, but it did.
"I'm gonna miss you bad, tough guy," I said, running my fingers along his square jaw.
"I'll miss you, too, Dad," Braden said. "A lot." His hand reached down to cup my crotch. I hardened up under his touch.
He gave a soft laugh. "You must think I'm some kind of nympho."
"I think you're perfect, son." I ran my fingers along his T-shirt, eager to feel the hard flesh beneath. "And I'm grateful for every way you make me happy."
Brade smiled but just took in the words. He looked down at my sweats, which were filling out big time with dad meat, getting harder by the second. "I'd so love to suck you off right now, Dad."
"Why don't you?" I asked, my voice croaking. I was getting very turned on now.
Braden's brown eyes looked up into mine. "Cause it's been three goddamn days since you're fucked me, that's why."
We kissed, harder this time, and began stripping one another. I wanted this to be romantic, a slow screw in the master king-sized bed I'd been exiled from. Braden wanted to be bent over the kitchen table and taken like a whore with just a little cooking oil for lube.
We did it Brade's way.
It was hot, crazy hot, and we'd gotten carried away. In my mind I knew we were fucking without protection. And given how much in heat my Marine son was, there was a good chance he was ovulating. But it felt so good being inside him raw. Intimate with my boy like this. My big hunky, muscled boy, taking my dick and asking for more. Calling me Dad as I railed him.
My Dad brain won out. I pulled out just before I came. I only had to give two tugs and I was firing out one of my biggest loads, all over his muscled back. Brade tried to wiggle his way back onto my but I held him apart. My son was definitely in full fertile heat.
I pulled him up and kissed his neck as he went for his cum, my own semen cementing his back to my chest as I growled how fucking hot incest was. How I wanted to fuck my son every single day. I got a little rough in my fantasy talk. Not only did Braden not mind, the scenario I was describing got him to shoot big. I loved feeling him orgasm as I held his body. Not seeing his face but knowing the intensity of his cum from the way his muscle tensed and shook.
We came down from the sex high and laughed at how carried away we'd gotten. I patted his chest and nuzzled my face against him. "All right young man," I said in a voice that was playful even as I meant every word. "You're going on the pill."
***
It was super hard to see him go off again. He had another year on his enlistment contract. I stayed off Grindr and all the apps. No hookups, no dates. Partly it was my desire to be faithful and monogamous with my son. None could compare to my Branden anyway.
My son made a show of pulling out his birth control pills when he was home next, setting him on the counter.
"I've been taking them, Dad," he said proudly.
I laughed, stepping up to him. "You didn't think I'd trust you?"
He shook his head in a way that said maybe I didn't trust him enough. "You know I'm crazy about you, sir, but you got some control issues."
"Just wait till you're a father," I said.
Brade got a serious look on his face. "You won't let me be one." His hand was now reaching down to cup my crotch. I'd learned to go commando whenever Braden was home, with just some shorts or sweats that could come off easily. So my son was now feeling a very hard piece of dad dick through some flimsy gym shorts.
My heart pounded. It had never occurred to me that Braden would want to get pregnant, especially that he'd want to be knocked up with MY kid.
"You think about that, buddy?" I asked, looking into his hunky-adorable face and his soulful brown eyes. God, I was so crushed out on my own son.
"All the fuckin' time, Dad," he replied. His fingers now slipped beneath the elastic band of my shorts to make contact with my hardon. The touch of his fingers was electric.
He looked down briefly then back up at me. "I know you're gonna lecture me about responsibility and being ready for parenthood."
"Probably, yeah," I replied. This idea was so crazy, and I needed to put the breaks on it. But my dick sure liked it. And Braden could tell.
"You like the idea, though," he said. He was now frigging my dick as our eyes locked.
"I almost didn't pull out before..." I said with a croak in my voice, getting majorly turned on. "When we barebacked."
Our kiss was intense. And I heard Brade undoing his jeans and could tell he was shucking them down as he moaned into my mouth. He was crazy turned on when he pulled back, breathing heavy. "I wish you hadn't," he said with a half apology, then turned around. Between high school sports and Marine conditioning and plenty of leg day time at the gym, Braden had an incredible ass. Round, meaty, mostly smooth except for a dusting of light brown hair that got thicker in the crack. I'm not a religious man, but some god had given me a gift.
Instantly, my hand was on his buns, feeling up that warm muscle.
"I lubed up, Dad," I heard his masculine voice say.
I ran my finger into his crevice. Even before I got to his pucker, I felt the telltale viscous stickiness. It would be our first time with petroleum jelly. Turns out it wouldn't be the last.
I scooted up. I craved to have more foreplay time with Brade, but this wasn't the time. I lined up my prick into the tacky gel and rubbed it around his hole with my cock head.
"You took your pill today?" I asked. I wanted confirmation before entering him bare. But I also wanted to hold onto that idea of knocking him up.
"Yessir," he hissed. He was backing up some, trying to get me into him. He wanted this.
I reached around and held his body. Even through the T-shirt Braden's chest was hard and warm.
"And if you hadn't... would you stop me from being inside you, like this?" God, I was getting carried away by the fantasy. Particularly as I pushed in, about a half inch of raw dad cock.
"No, sir," Braden replied. Then "Fuck yes!" as I breached him all the way. A homecoming fuck that felt more intense than the ones before. Almost more intense than taking his cherry.
It was awkward fucking standing up. I was a couple inches taller than Brade. But bent my knees a little, and Brade leaned over to brace himself on the wall as I pounded him.
"Love ya, Sport..." I said as I fucked faster and deeper. Maybe it was in my head, but Braden's ass had never felt so good.
"Love you, too, Dad. So fucking much." His voice was needy now.
The words were what I needed to hear as I pounded us both to a heavy climax.
It took me a minute of the afterglow to realize Brade was crying.
"What is, buddy?" I asked with concerned. Jesus, if I'd gone too hard on the boy, I wouldn't forgive myself.
I could hear a laugh come through. "Just happy is all.. fuck! Sorry..."
I pulled him back against me tighter. My dick had slipped out and it all felt very lewd now that the act was done with. It only added to the emotional roller coaster we were both on. "Nothing to be sorry about. Let it out, Sport.... Guess it's pretty intense dating your old man," I said empathetically.
Braden nodded. "Pretty much," he said. "It's fucked up, right?"
I thought for a second. I mean, objectively it was. And yet... "Inside this house, inside these walls, it's not fucked up, Brade. It's what's meant to be, OK?"
He turned and looked at me with an emotional openness that melted me. I wasn't good at this stuff. Relationship stuff, emotional stuff. But I knew I could assure my son in this moment.
We kissed. Softly, like boyfriends.
Then we cleaned up and talked, for hours.
***
Braden was done with the active duty part of his contract and was living with me. Full time, day in, day out. It took some getting used to. I maybe had a loner thing going on, and it was hard to shift from the Dad role to the boyfriend role. And the honeymoon period of homecoming sex quickly wore off.
It came to a head one evening. I had to work late, later than normal, even. Brade had a dinner ready for me and plated it for us.
I was still preoccupied with work, though I gave a quick thanks before digging in.
Braden picked at his food but was sulking. Finally, he set down his fork. "I guess workaholic Dad is back now," he grumbled.
I felt both chastised and pissed off. "Forgive me for making a living, Son."
"It's all you think about."
"That's not true," I said sternly.
Braden shook his head and went back to eating. Maybe he was right, but he was acting like a sullen teen again, goddamnit. And here I was the father who didn't know how quite to handle that.
I did make a point of thanking him again for the dinner and of doing the dishes. "Go kick back, Son," I urged in my best contrite voice. Braden didn't even reply but just got up and left the room. I guess it was silent treatment time.
I'd dried the last of the dished when Brade came in.
"Sorry, Dad," he said.
I turned toward him. "Oh buddy... it's me who should be sorry. You do all this work, and I come home late."
I set down the dish towel and stepped toward him. He was stepping up to me, too. Our mouths met, hungry. This was gonna be me and Brade's first time having make up sex.
"Bedroom?" I asked.
"Yeah, Dad."
We were like kids jumping into a lake, rapidly stripping off our clothes and hopping on to the bed we now shared. His body felt amazing. I mean it always did but I craved the contact now. My hunky 23 year old stud in bed with me, his hardon battling mine as I started to roll him over.
Only he stopped me. "Let me ride you, Dad. Please."
"Pretty please?" I teased.
"Pretty please, sir. I wanna ride your cock."
This was a fun change of pace, my lying back and having Braden lube up my thick cock before straddling me. The penetration was quick, too quick for my son, and he had to rise up before trying again. The second time was a charm and I watched my hunky stud sink down on my bone.
I pumped up into him, but position equally allowed Brade to use his hips to work up and down my dick. It was magnificent, like a slow steady milking motion.
"Fuck, Son... so good, buddy."
"Yeah?" he asked with a smile. "I want it to be so good for you, Dad."
"You have no idea, Sport."
That increased his determination to ride me up and down. "I took my pill today... but if I didn't..." he said with a lust-filled voice.
I grunted. The idea was hitting me hard. We'd indulged some of this talk, but it was coming back even harder than before. "I'd feel a fertile ass riding me," I answered.
Braden had to let go of his cock to keep from coming. "God, Dad... this turns you on too."
"Damn straight it does, Sport. Fucking you... knocking you up..."
Even without stroking, Brade was getting close to cumming. "It's my biggest fantasy, Dad. Having an incest baby with you."
That tripped my trigger before I expected. I was fucking up into my son, but it was the mental shock as much as the physical sensation making me shoot a heavy series of cum shots into my son's bowels.
I could sense Brade was imagining it fertilizing him. His voice quivered and his body flushed pink. And I watched his dick shoot out its thick cum as he bounced up and down hard onto my still spurting prick.
"FUCK!" he gasped.
I patted his thigh. This was intense sex, for sure, and I was starting to return to normal. "Yeah," I said.
Braden eased off and slid down next to me, meeting me in a hot kiss.
After we made out he lay his head on my chest. Like that night I took his cherry. Before he shipped off. Life has a way of coming full circle.
His voice now seemed tentative. "Dad... you know I wouldn't do that, right? Stop taking the pills without your permission?"
I patted his back muscle. "I know, buddy. It's just talk... something to get us going."
"Yeah," he said. "Only if you ever decided it was right..." he said softly.
"I know, buddy. We'll talk about it, OK."
"OK."
***
Like moths to a flame, we couldn't avoid getting deeper into the pregnancy talk. It spiced up our time in the bedroom, then became our fixation during sex. No longer occasional, it became every single time that me and Brade talked about having kids. Me impregnating him, us imagining his body being transformed by our kid.
I occasionally opened the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom to check that Braden was still taking his pills. I felt bad that I didn't 100 percent trust him.
We tried to mix it up. Braden gave me more blow jobs. He became an expert at edging me, and that felt new and exciting.
My son and I found our rhythm as a couple. Braden got used to my long work hours, and I did my best to make weekends about us. Brade would the first to point out that I wasn't good at romance, but Sundays were Brade Day, when he'd choose what we'd do. I was a big saver when it came to money, but I learned to relax a little. For Brade Day, I'd buy tickets for to catch a baseball game or go see the nearby city football team's home game.
Sometimes for Brade Day, he's choose to do something I wanted, which was usually playing golf. I'd object, but he insisted that relationships weren't one-way things.
That stuck with me. I'd run through it all in my head why Braden and I couldn't have kids, why we shouldn't have kids. Incest was one thing, but having a child together was another. And the practical side of my personality was persistent. I knew raising a kid would cost money. I had it, but I wasn't sure what job or career Braden had in mind for his future. If we'd be on the same page in our parenting.
OK, my idle thoughts were no longer idle.
It was fun surprising my son. It was Sunday morning, Brade Day, and it took him a while to notice. Even after his cup of coffee he was still groggy.
"Um, Dad," he asked as he walked back into the kitchen. "Have you seen my pills?"
I nodded, with my best poker face. "Yeah, Sport. I threw them in the trash."
He was processing what I was saying. "You're joking."
I shook my head. "Nope. You can feel free to fish them out, if you like."
"Oh fuck," he hissed.
This was like make up sex on steroids. Me and Braden embracing in a bear hug and then a hot kiss. Then fucking on the kitchen floor.
I'd have felt bad if we'd conceived our son like that, but even lost in my fantasy I knew it would be a couple of weeks until Braden was fertile.
But it was decided now: we were gonna have a kid together.
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