This story is a long, multi-chapter male-pregnancy story, in world where that happens.
I stirred in bed and heard Braden shuffle on the other side of the mattress. My son wasn't a morning person, and now that Bill Jr. was 2, Brade really preferred to sleep in. I loved to let him, and on weekdays I'd get Junior his breakfast before I went off on my way to work.
I would let my son-husband sleep in on Saturday, too, but we now had this ritual.
"Hmmm..." I heard his deep morning voice growl as his thickly muscled body scooted over to mine, resting his strong arm on my chest. Braden always had a great body, but he'd spent the last two years dedicating an hour or so to his workout on most days and I found myself married to a 25-year old who could be a freakin' porn star.
I always woke up with morning wood, like clockwork, but the warmth and body contact had me raging hard.
"Morning, babe," I said, kissing his forehead and running my hand along the knotted tricep.
"What time's tee time?" I heard his groggy voice ask.
"8:30," I said.
"Goddamnit," Braden said. He made a point never to curse around Junior, which meant when it was just us, his sailor mouth was in full force. "Fucking Fiedler."
I chuckled. My son and I had become good friends with both of the Dr. Fiedlers, Adam, father, and son Todd, and we often did double dates. There was the bond of being incest couples and the shared experience of navigating parenthood in that context. While the younger Dr. Fielder was Todd to me, Braden used Fiedler to refer to his doctor.
"My golf date is with both of them," I said. "With a new fourth. Todd says he found another man in a relationship like ours."
That woke Braden up. "Yeah?" he asked, looking at me to see if I was on the level. Brade no longer had a buzz cut but his hair was short and matted down in a sexy bed head way.
I nodded, patting his side. "He was cagey about the details, but I don't think he was bullshitting me."
"Wow," my son said, turning to scoot against my naked body. I could feel his own shank of morning wood against my leg. "That would be incredible." We both craved to connect to other father-son couples, Braden especially. Incest was amazing, but a lonely experience.
Braden's hand traveled down slowly from my chest over my furry stomach. I didn't have my son's six pack, nor his thick muscle, but I kept trim and in shape for 41. Brade seemed to love what I had going on.
Particularly a few inches lower. I grunted when I felt his strong fingers circle around my prick.
"That feels nice, buddy," I hissed.
"Yeah?"
"Hell yeah. Always does."
"I love this cock, Dad," my son said. "It fucking made me."
That dick surged in his fist. Even if we had a ritual, it never got old. To the contrary.
I looked Brade square in the eye as I lay back and let him stroke me. "It made Junior, too."
"Aw fuck!" Braden grunted. That was the button to push all right. He pounced forward for a kiss. He tried to take charge of it, but I battled back with my tongue. I won that battle, but otherwise my son was in charge, climbing on top of me. Braden was four inches shorter than me but with his brawn I definitely had that pleasant feel of his weight on top.
We made out as Brade kind of humped and writhed.
"Let me drive, today, Dad?" he hissed.
"You got it, Sport."
This was going to have to be a quickie. Bill Jr. would probably wake soon and as a married couple you have to find the private moments when you could take them.
We had a discreet container for our lube next to the bed, and I watched Braden's thick muscle flex as he reached over to pump a good bit out. For longer sessions, we didn't use so much, but for a quick entry, my son loved a super slick cock.
I was gonna be really frickin' wet, I realized, as that palm wrapped around my phallus once more.
Braden was horny but more in his quiet, relaxed early morning way. And maybe lost in thought. "The new guys..." he asked. "You think the dad is the top or bottom?"
"Dunno, Brade," I said. "Some guys are both. Or neither, I suppose," I answered.
Braden didn't comprehend that. He'd told me that for him sex was about being penetrated, or getting me to cum. Maybe if he'd been more vers, he could have talked me into switching things up, but I loved being his father that way. Dad on top. Being the breeding stud for my Brade.
Still, I knew some men were wired differently, like the Fiedlers.
Braden settled over my lap, looking down and bracing one hand on the headboard of the bed as his other reached behind to guide my cock into place.
"You're horny, Dad," he said.
I nodded. "It's been a couple of days, buddy."
"I know," he said. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," I said, running my hands along his thighs. Brade had really been hitting leg day. "We get sex when we can."
Brade got a shyly playful look on his handsome face, as he wiggled his hips back on to my dick, nudging his hole into place. "It's gonna be even trickier when the next one is born."
This was frequent with me and my son. Talking about impregnation and procreation, talking about the family we were raising and the sons we were going to sire.
But this was more than sex talk, I knew. Brade was feeling me out. "You itching to get knocked up again, Brade?" I grunted. This was sex talk, and real talk, and the fact they were one in the same was getting to me.
He pushed himself down. Even with out experience, Braden's experience, his kind of quick entry was tough for him, but he relished the way my slickness meant he was being bored with a few inches of dad cock. He winced but his cock twitched and bounced from his crotch.
We were incest fucking once more, like we could never get enough of.
"So ready, Dad," Braden hissed. "Whenever you're ready, Dad, just tell me and I'll stop taking those fucking pills."
I loved the tight hot feel of Braden's guts clenching my prick and descending down. "We'll talk about it, OK?" Real talk and sex talk could collide, but Braden and I were going to make the next pregnancy a planned one, decided in a sober conversation, not while fucking.
"Of course, Dad," he said, maybe a little too loud. Jesus, he was gonna wake Junior.
He rode me slowly, sensually. His goal was to relax his hole and his insides, but it also felt amazing on my lubed dick, like I was being slowly jacked.
"But say the word and I'm ready.... I wanna be so fucking fertile for you, Dad."
I gripped his hips now and pumped in. Ready or not, I needed to actively fuck my son.
"Yes!" Braden hissed. It was intense for him, but I could tell he was imagining me planting my seed in him, my sperm fertilizing his egg.
"You're such a handsome fuck," I growled. "Love you, Sport."
"Love you, Dad. Oh shit!" he let go of his prick to keep from cumming. Instead he angled his upper body up to focus on taking my cock.
"I thought you were driving today, Brade," I teased, pumping up more excitedly into his ass.
"You're in charge, Dad. Fucking take me."
"I am..." I grunted. I was so close, and this was one of those fucks where I was riding the edge of orgasm without topping over. "Can't wait to knock you up, kiddo."
"Please dad. Impregnate me."
"Make another incest baby?" OK, I was getting real close now. My hips were thrusting gaster.
"Hell yeah, Dad. How many grandkids do you want?"
Something about those words but also the tone in which Brade said them had me cumming, hard. I held onto his hips in a vice grip and fired several jets of my cum into his guts.
Excitedly, Brade gripped his bone and tugged and like that I was getting showered with my son's seed. It had been a while since he'd ridden me and I enjoyed the novelty of a Braden cum shower.
We kissed, softly, catching our breath and letting our heart rate come back to normal.
Our shower together was efficient and quick. I had to get to the golf course, and the sex had taken longer than I expected.
***
This was our way of maintaining a healthy balance as parents and as a married couple. Saturday was my own personal day for me-time, which in good weather meant playing golf. On Sundays, Braden got to do his own thing and take a day off from stay-at-home dad duties, which usually meant hanging out with his buddy Jackson, either going off to do some outdoor or athletic thing, or just watching football or hockey.
The Fiedlers sometimes played golf separately, but on Saturdays, both Adam and Todd were there in their knit shirts and shorts. Adam was an incredible golfer, whereas Todd had the power swings that could either make for a great game or a lousy one. I was a decent player but mostly enjoyed the game and the break from the routine of work and parenting. And I'd enjoyed bonding with the Fiedlers.
I related to Adam and Todd in different ways, but with either man... well, we'd opened up a lot. Guy talk, discussing the emotional side of married life, particularly in an incest couple, and even frank talk about our sex lives. With anyone else it would feel like a betrayal of trust with Braden, but I knew these guys would keep anything private, and I knew a lot about them. I had no one else to talk to, and maybe it's something a man needs.
Sure, there was some sexual tension, too, but we channeled that into crude jokes and double entendre, without danger of slipping into anything more.
When I got to the club house, I saw the fourth in our party. He looked to he a high school kid, until I got closer and figured he was closer to 19 or 20. About 5'8" with a compact body.
"Hey," came the voice. Adult but very young sounding, like a frat dude rushing at university.
"Bill Drake," I said, offering my hand to shake it.
"Jeff Connors." He smiled but seemed nervous.
Adam Fiedler patted my shoulder. "Bill's part of our special fraternity, Jeff... you can be free around him."
"Yeah?" the young man asked excitedly. But maybe feeling out of his element.
I nodded. "I don't know what these men have shared, but yes." I was nervous too, but something about Jeff's shyness brought out my protective side. I looked over at Todd. Dr. Fiedler. "I guess we got all morning to get acquainted."
My doctor grinned. "Especially cause you get to ride in the cart with him, Bill. Dad's upset he doesn't get to flirt with the dude."
Adam gave a hearty laugh. "Todd told me to be on my best behavior."
The younger doctor gave a mock-annoyed look. "Come on, Dad. You're teeing off first."
***
The first hour was a lot of small talk. Jeff was a college freshman, rising sophomore, home for the summer. My guess that he was a fraternity man was a good one, and in most ways young man Connors seemed like a typical college kid. Into partying but also finding himself and his goals in life. Kind of goofy in his humor but naive and serious about the world, too.
It was after the tenth hole, when he opened up. We'd gotten into the cart after a long drive. I pulled off and I heard him say softly. "Dad doesn't want me talking about things with anyone else, but I feel like was gonna explode if I kept it all inside you know?"
I looked over at him. I almost patted his knee but felt that would be appropriate. "Your dad has a point, but I know how you feel, buddy."
He smiled, a nervous but genuine smile. "Thanks, Bill. You, um..."
I could tell he thought it was too wild to ask. I leaned into the trust of the situation and wanted to show Jeff he could trust me. "I've been with my son Braden for seven years... been married for four of them."
The frat dude's face lit up. "Wow! That's amazing."
"I think so," I said. "I'm a very happy, very lucky man."
Jeff hesitated. "Like Dr. Fiedler."
"In more ways than one," I said. And seeing that Jeff wasn't following I added, "Brade and I have a son. Together." I felt proud to make that announcement, and I remembered Todd Fiedler's tone of pride when he first mentioned how many kids they had.
"How's that?" Jeff asked. Earnest as hell.
"Amazing. Even if it cuts into the sex life some," I said with a wink.
Jeff laughed. I could tell he was arranging his crotch. "It's so crazy to talk about a father and son having sex."
I looked over. "Well you and your dad are, right?" Maybe I'd misread the whole situation.
He nodded and blushed. "Yeah. Like, um, a lot."
I laughed and Jeff laughed too. It broke the ice a lot.
I figured I could share more. "Braden and I love the idea of incest. Always gets us going."
I could tell Jeff was getting worked up. I was getting hard, too. I was wired for incest talk, and just discussing this openly was way hot.
But we kept the conversation more serious. "I'm pretty sure Dad and I don't want to have kids," Jeff said. "But we've been talking more about what a relationship would mean."
"Parenting's not easy, you both gotta be on the same page."
Jeff and I talked more, off and on, between shots, and it was amazing to see him open up and his happiness at being able to talk about incest.
I listened, but I had to speak up. "Can I give you some unsolicited advice, Jeff?"
"Sure," he said. Over two hours we'd built up a high level of trust.
"If it's going to be more than sex with your dad, if the emotional part is important... well, you need him on board, buddy. About talking to others."
"Yeah," Jeff conceded, chastised.
I now patted his knee, paternally. "It goes both ways, too. He needs to know how you feel and your need to bond with other men. He may be your dad, but he needs to listen to you, not just lay down the law."
Jeff seemed quiet as he took that in, then finally replied. "Thanks, Bill."
***
Something about my conversation with the Connors kid stuck with me. Maybe I was too determined to lay down the law with Braden. I felt we had a strong, affectionate relationship, but my son gave up a lot to parent our child. And Braden was the one who wanted another kid really soon, I was the one always putting the breaks on that idea. In my head it was always a plan for the future. Maybe in five or six years the time would be right for another. Two sons, three max, despite how fevered our sex talk could get.
There would always be an excuse though, and I knew my son-husband wanted to take advantage of his peak fertility. And he very much wanted us to give Junior a younger brother.
I brought it up with Braden on Monday night. Junior was in bed by 8:30. Brade and I usually took turns getting our son to bed, and I was grateful Brade had duty that night, because work had been a real long, tough day for me. I sat on the couch and watched some mindless TV with the sound turned down.
Finally Braden came and sat down next to me. "Exhausting, huh?" he said with a laugh. We never bitched about parenthood, but we did bond on the work it took and enjoyed approaching the challenges with humor.
"I'll say," I replied. Then, "You up for feeling more exhausted, Braden?"
He paused as it sunk and looked at me. Then, "You saying what I think you're saying?"
I nodded. "If you're up for it. It's your body, son."
"Oh god, Dad. I'm gonna go off the pills tomorrow."
I smiled. Proud. Excited. Maybe more than a little horny. My dick was firming up. "I figure it's time for Junior to have a little brother."
"Yes, sir," Brade hissed as he scooted closer.
That kiss was the softest we'd ever had. Slowly, we made out on the couch, swapping tongues and just feeling the father-son intimacy of the moment.
The romantic vibe gave way to some soft caresses of each other's bodies, until Brade leaned back with an excited smile that made him look five years younger. "You're so fucking handsome, Dad," he said, openly appraising my body. "I can't get over lucky I am to be with you."
I caressed his cheek. "Right back at you, Sport."
He smirked. "There are probably a million men who want to be with their fathers, and I get to live the dream."
I had so much I wanted to say. About how I was thrilled I could be with my son and start a family with him. But already Braden was scooting off the couch and kneeling on the floor, hands openly caressing my legs and getting that horny look in his eyes.
I'd never turn down a blowjob from my son, but now that he was pawing at my crotch, a started tone entered my voice. "You sure Junior's asleep?" I asked in a whisper.
"He's out, Dad," Braden said with an impish smile as he pulled down down my zipper. "But you can keep watch if you like while I suck that cock that's gonna make our next son."
I lay back and enjoyed the slowest most sensual head I could imagine. Brade was making love to my dick and my balls, and I knew what he was thinking. How he was sucking his father, tasting the dick that made him. Getting closed to the breeding power that going to knock him up once more.
I made myself be quiet, almost silent as I orgasmed, feeding Brade a huge load. This was going to be a fun, emotionally powerful month or two. Or three. However long we had to mate to get the job done. I wasn't even going soft now, not even after Brade suckled at the dribbles and kept licking.
"Bedroom, Dad?" he asked, leaning up with a wild-eyed look on his face. I could tell he was thrilled by my amped up sexual response.
"You bet, Sport," I hissed, leaning into kiss him.
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