A disclaimer from the author: This story is a work of fiction and contains themes that some readers might find difficult to read about, including: incest, a man with a vagina, male pregnancy, period sex, and themes involving dominance and submission. Please consider your tastes and comfort levels and show discretion before reading or commenting on this work.
Positive and/or constructive comments are always appreciated at: [email protected]
9 days until ovulation resumes
Ever since the claiming, mornings in the McManus household tended to pass in a blur of heavy clutching arms and pelvic thrusts into willing, wet heat. In a matter of weeks, Robert McManus’ bedroom, once a sanctuary of stoic masculinity for the older man, had shifted into a den of delirious sexual pleasure, as delightful for the younger Jacob as it was depraved in the mind of the more conservative father. No matter how reserved the older man was, it seemed all it took was his son’s insistent prodded to melt through his guarded exterior and open himself to anything his oldest son threw his way. Today was different, if only in the finer details.
For once, Jake was the one on his back, legs spread wide and inviting. He wasn’t getting fucked though. I’m not that kind of man, he thought to himself. I was true that young Jake McManus had been wondering more about himself and his developing identity as the weeks passed. His new, unexpected relationship with his father had opened doors he never knew existed or could be stepped through and all sorts of intriguing possibilities lay beyond the scope of his old, stale-tasting sexuality. He had formed no definitive answer to who he was as a man, and wasn’t eager to pin a label on himself. It seemed, like his father, he was content to let the feelings and experiences happen without probing too deeply in his psyche.
On his belly, nestled between his son’s lightly haired thighs, Robert McManus’ head bobbed gently, taking his son’s considerable length slowly, but surely, into the wide cavern of his mouth. The blowjob was completely unprompted on Jake’s end. Rob had willingly, and eagerly, set to servicing his boy right from the moment he awakened, still wet and musky from the previous night’s activities. Jake could tell that Rob was no expert at sucking cock, but what his dad might have lacked in experience, he was making up for in devotion and enthusiasm.
This was only the third time Jake had felt his dad’s mouth on his package. The first had occurred two days ago, when his dad had dropped to his knees after dinner and shyly asked Jake if they could try it this way tonight. Jake had watched with rapt attention as his father’s dark bearded face, reddened with a potent mixture of lust and embarrassment, took his cock to the root for the first time. It hadn’t taken long for him to spill his semen and Rob, like a dutiful lover, had swallowed every drop without a word of complaint. The second time was only last night, when the elder McManus, with a lusty twinkle in his eyes, had bent down over the couch and given his son head while a football game played in the background.
Jake was still trying to wrap his head around this new sexual development in their incestous relationship. Obviously, he loved getting them. What 20 year old didn’t love some sloppy head first thing in the morning? No, it wasn’t the act itself, or his dad’s skills, which were pretty decent already and getting better every day, or the now regular offering of blowjobs that bothered him. It was the intention behind it all.
Deep down, Jake knew his dad was more wily than most people suspected. He had successfully hidden away the secrets of his genitalia and the nature of Jake’s birth from him for over 20 years. No small feat that. So he knew his dad was capable, quite easily, of deception and manipulation. It begged the question, was his dad’s newfound hunger for cock in his mouth borne of a genuine desire to taste his son’s sweat and seed, or was it part of a larger strategy? One that sought to taper the consequences of Jake’s explorations of the other holes in his body...
Jake didn’t try and stop the blowjobs. Far from it, he encouraged them. Letting his dad feel like he was still in control and get his rocks off at the same time? Win-win, in his book.
Rob’s bobbing slowly sped up as the minutes passed. Rob hadn’t mastered the art of deepthroating yet. His dad would eventually have to pull back when a gagging fit threatened to overcome him, but Jake didn’t particularly mind that for the moment. Jake had only gotten it a few times from one particularly slutty girl back at the dorms, and now that Rob was rapidly developing a taste for his son’s cock, Jake was eager to take advantage of that hunger and train his old man to please him just the way he liked. Whatever he feelings might have been before Caleb’s birth and their coupling, Robert McManus most certainly enjoyed sucking his oldest son’s cock now. The older man’s thighs were slick with vaginal fluid, devoid of Jake’s cum for the first time in long while. Jake had been spent and happy after his father’s impromptu blowjob last night and not even the sight of Robert McManus’ face glazed like a donut had been able to bring him back for seconds. The thought was certainly working wonders now though, and Jake grunted as he felt himself inch closer to the edge.
As if feeling his boy’s balls churning below his chin, Rob’s pace slowed minutely, attempting to draw out the pleasure he was giving Jake for as long as possible. That’s new too, Jake thought, hissing in pleasure. The first time had been a quick and sloppy affair, Rob clearly still getting comfortable with the idea and feeling of his son’s cock in his mouth. Now it was a completely different story. He didn’t just suck that cock, he worshiped it, savoring the flavors that were uniquely Jacob McManus. That tongue of his, thick and pulsing with life, swirled around the head, catching any drops of precum that emerged from the erect shaft. Rob had quickly graduated (or fallen, depending on your perspective) from a quietly dedicated father to a hungry cocksucker in only a matter of days.
Jake didn’t just come, he erupted like a volcano, and Rob instinctively dived down to capture the molten flow that poured out of the young man. Jake, his eyes beginning to feel heavy after such a hard blow, watched his father’s Adam’s apple bob enthusiastically as he gently swallowed, fully committed to capturing every last drop of semen in his mouth. It was a sight that was almost tortuously erotic, and Jake would not have let his father stop even if the man had begged for it. Which was pretty hard to do when his mouth was stuffed full of college-aged cock.
When Rob finally released Jake’s cock, reluctantly, it flopped, useless and spent, onto Jake’s wiry groin. Rob, head resting on his son’s damp lab and wearing a very self-satisfied grin on his face said to the spent young man,
“Thought I’d give you something a little special this morning.” Jake would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy catching his breath.
Finally, he managed, “I’m not complaining…” His stomach rumbled, and Rob glanced down at his son’s flat abdomen with a look of bemusement on his face.
“Hungry, huh? Even though I was doing all of the work?” he said, gentle teasing in his tone that made Jake’s heart beat just a bit faster.
“I’m a growing boy,” Jake teased back, and at those words Rob grinned widely, cupping his son’s genitals in his hand.
“I know from personal experience.” Then rising, completely nude, with a masculine self-assuredness that had been missing since before their encounter in the hospital, he turned around and walked out of the room towards the kitchen. Jake watched his father’s ass, muscular and plump from lucky genes and lots of hard labor gently bounce as he walked. Jake’s eyes narrowed, and his cock twitched in sympathy with the thoughts in Jake’s mind.
Robert McManus might have thought he was playing his son, but he couldn’t be further from the truth. They were playing each other now, both jockeying for control in the twisted but deeply satisfying relationship that had developed between them. Jake remembered his dad as he was a month ago. Heavy with child, yet undeniably a man. He wanted Rob like that again. He needed Rob like that again. Looking down at his cock, which had half-filled again just at the thought, Jake smiled to himself, safe in the knowledge that no matter how much his dad tried to delay the inevitable, no matter what methods he used to stop his son’s lustful advances over his body, that there would never be a shortage of seed in the balls of Jacob McManus. Something told him that seed was potent too, and the day when he could plant it all right where it belonged couldn’t come soon enough.
----
7 days until ovulation resumes…
As Jake lounged on the big leather couch in the living room, he watched through the glass doors leading to the outdoor patio as his dad cooked burgers outside on the grill. The older man had a curious pep in his step and was humming a Springsteen song under his breath as he filled a patty. Jake’s eyes honed in on Rob’s thick, clubby hands, clenching the metal spatula. His dad’s hands had always been a fixation of Jake’s. Big, hairy, mitts that had felt huge, yet comforting as a child, carried an entire new connection after feeling them on his aching prick. He imagined his dad, coming back into the house carrying the burgers on a plate. He would notice the tent in his son’s jeans, and like a dutiful partner drop everything to sink to his knees, grabbing ahold of his package with those same hands, and taking care of Jake’s needs. Rob caught Jake watching him from the corner of his vision and stopped to give his oldest son a tiny grin before turning his attention back to the meal he was preparing.
Jake took this all in silently, pretending to play with his phone. Earlier, Rob had noticed Jake renewed libido and had quickly set out to empty his son’s tanks. After giving him a particularly adept blowjob, Rob had shook his head when Jake tried to reach for his hips, saying, “I’m all good, son.” The worst part about it was that Rob wasn’t lying. The older man seemed perfectly content to just service his son with his mouth and get on with his day. Again, it wasn’t bad, per se. Jake liked the eagerness to please him. It just wasn’t his idea, and that scared him, because if he wasn’t driving the boat who knew where they would end up landing.
There were other concerns on Jake’s mind too, concerns that distracted from the pleasures of the flesh. The enigma surrounding the parentage of his younger brother Caleb, for example. He hadn’t made much comment about it to his dad, but...Caleb had awfully dark skin. Jake and his dad weren’t quite lily white, they could get a decent tan if they wanted it (or in Rob’s case, if he was forced to work outside for many extended hours), but Caleb wasn’t tan, he was brown, like the color of a caramel latte from an overpriced coffeehouse. Which meant Caleb’s dad was…
Jake winced inside when he thought about how prejudiced his thoughts sounded, even in the comfort of his own mind. He didn’t actually have a problem with his dad sleeping with someone who wasn’t white. No, race wasn’t the problem. It was just the mystery of it all. Right now, outside on the patio, Rob was cheerfully playing Good Dad, but underneath was a different man, one would evidently spread his legs for men who didn’t look like Jake McManus. That was the problem. Who was this man that had knocked up his dad? What sort of power did he wield to make Robert McManus bitch out to the point of an unplanned pregnancy?
Since their time at the hospital, Jake hadn’t tried broaching the subject with Rob, content with his sexual explorations of his dad’s body, but that would need to change. Or, he thought to himself, Maybe I can beat Dad at his own game. Robert McManus may not have wanted to tell the truth, for whatever reason, but the information still existed out there, waiting for someone clever and determined enough to discover it. He had stepped away from the discussion about his own father, knowing fully well that even breathing a mention of the man was steering into Rob’s no-fly zone, and he would be damned if he was going to fuck up the amazing sex he was having because he was too impatient. So, he had given his dad his word that he would let the subject drop, content for now to hover around the perimeter like a vulture waiting for his next morsel of information to drop. That promise didn’t extend to Caleb’s dad. As far as Jake was concerned, his brother’s baby daddy was fair game.
Rob’s paternity leave was ending soon. Right around the same time he was going to need to pack up and head back to college. 7 days…he needed to move fast.
---
5 days until ovulation resumes…
Lunch had been good, dinner had been better. Jake was well and truly stuffed, but unfortunately for Robert McManus, his son was still hungry for a different kind of meal. His dad had made his usual feeble, token protestations. “But the baby, Jake…” “Wouldn’t it be nicer in the morning…” Blah, blah, blah. They had never worked before, and they sure weren’t working now.
Rob fell back on the bed easily enough, not even bothering to keep his legs closed while his soon pulled his sweats and underwear off. As he pulled his dad’s drawers past his ankles and onto the floor, there was the peek of beautiful pink beneath that forest of black fur, and soon enough Rob’s face was matching the color of his puss when he saw the way his son stared down at it.
“Jake…” he whined, always so embarrassed, and Jake decided to show him a hint of mercy by halting his staring and instead crawling up his father’s body, running his face across his dad’s hairy thighs and taking a deep inhalation of his dad’s fragrant hole.
“Fuck, Dad…” he whispered between sniffs. “You’ve got the best smelling cunt…” In parallel to it now, he brought his face closer, rubbing the entirety of it all along the puffy lips and clit, making Rob gasp from the ticklish scratching of Jake’s beard hair on his sensitive bits. Jake’s face broke into a grin, mouth now wet with saliva.
“You want me to eat you out again, Dad?” he asked, noting the way Rob’s cunt twitched almost imperceptibly at the usage of the word with that act. Rob looked down at Jake for a moment, biting his lip, words tumbling around behind his eyes before finally releasing from his mouth.
“Whatever you want...Son…” Jake’s nostrils flared.
He wasted no more time with talking, diving in as deep as he could go, lips and nose quickly smothered by Rob’s meaty cunt. With his nostrils filled with the scent of his dad’s most secret place, he eagerly swirled his tongue inside the warm depths, collected the fluid inside, all the while the bridge of his nose rubbed teasingly along the lower ridges of Rob’s rapidly engorging clit. His eyes locked on his father’s, piercing, and he saw his dad gazing down at his oldest son with a sense of wonder and fear. If you only knew how wild this makes me, Jake thought, his cock suspended in the air below his legs.
They went on like this for a while, Jake eating out his dad as he had before, moving at his own pace, his own desires. This was the way Rob truly liked things, Jake had realized. He wanted Jake to be in control, to call the shots. Was he only like this with his oldest son? Was he special? Or was this simply Robert McManus’ true nature and any man could have him this way? Jake’s brow furrowed, and he countered his disconcerting thoughts by rubbing on Rob’s clit as he worked, turning Rob’s muffled whimpers into breathy sighs.
He could easily make his father come this way. He had plenty of times already in the few weeks they had been together. But Jake had a different sort of plan for his dad tonight. It was time for something new. Something that would leave another mark on the man who had birthed him into this world. He removed his face from Rob’s cunt, a wet, breathy inhalation of much needed air filling his lungs as he did so. He didn’t miss the brief look of disappointment that flashed across Rob’s face as he did so either. Such a hungry slut once he got going.
“Hold your legs open,” he ordered, providing no context for his order, but Rob obeyed, hesitating only a brief moment before hooking his legs back until the broad feet nearly touched his shoulders. Rob’s body had begun to regain some of the musculature it had lost during his last pregnancy and now the man was looking fine as hell. With his hairy body spread wide, pussy exposed, and a look of open want never far from his eyes, Robert McManus was an image of masculine, fuckable perfection.
Jake admired his father for a moment more, smiling broadly, almost innocently, though what he was about to do to his sire was anything but innocent. Two fingers, his index and middle plunged into the wet recesses of his dad’s cunt, going in smooth as butter. As he began to inch them back and forth, dragging them along the area that butted up against the older man’s prostate, he let his thumb settle on his dad’s bulging clit, rubbing it in time to his vaginal explorations. In and out with the fingers and circling with the thumb. Two duel sensations shooting straight from Rob’s groin to his brain, and the tension that rested in his father’s shoulders began to slowly dissipate. The man was melting at his son’s ministrations, and once he lay fully open, reacting to Jake’s probing with sounds that could only be mistaken for pleasure, he knew it was time for the next step.
While his dad lay back on the bed panting, Jake’s pinky finger, the one connected to the hand currently stimulating Rob’s vagina, inched down between his dad’s furry cheeks. It searched around for a moment, looking for that tight, virginal hole, before finally finding its target and pushing past the breach. The reaction was intense and instantaneous. Rob’s eyes bulged, looking as if they were about to jump out of his head. His hands, previously clutching onto the bedspread, shot like a bolt down to his son’s probing arm. His grip was tight, borne more from shock than pain. The intention was clear, but like the fateful night in the SUV that felt like it had happened ages ago, Jake had no intention of ceasing his deviant explorations. His free hand grabbed his father’s moving it away as if swatting a fly. Holding his dad’s hip firmly in his grasp, Jake continued his probing, causing Rob to clench his eyes closed.
It took a while for Jake to find the correct rhythm, like trying to chew gum and walk at the same time, but with a little effort he found the pace and set up a motion like a well-oiled machine running in time. Two fingers pistoning in and out of Rob’s cunt, a bulkier thumb working the older man’s throbbing clit, and a little finger probing the most sacrosanct hole of them all. He watched his dad’s reactions with apt attention, memorizing every quiver, every groan, every stilted exhale of breath. He couldn’t remember a time where his dad looked sexier, except for maybe when he was giving birth to Caleb.
During the start of the anal fingering, Rob’s body had tensed back up, his mind in a tumultuous battle against the waves of stimulation coursing through his body, but soon, just as it always happened when his eldest son took control, Rob began to settle into the assault and the pleasure that was there under the surface began to rise to the top. His eyes took on a familiar, dreamy expression, as if he was staring at something wondrous in the distance, just out of eyesight. Tiny, breathy, almost feminine sighs began to escape his parted lips. A thin drop of saliva began to pool at the corner of his lips, slowly trailing down his mouth and chin at a snail’s pace.
All of these signs had become well telegraphed signals of Rob’s pleasure, surefire ways for Jake to know that his skillful handwork was sinking deep past his father’s numerous guards. Smiling inwardly, Jake doubled his efforts, and now having found the proper movements in his wrist and fingers, was able to stimulate Rob’s prostate from two sides: anal and vaginal. A gasp of pleasure stricken dismay burst from his dad’s mouth, tongue lulling out wildly for one precarious moment, before the older man pulled his senses back together enough to grab a pillow and cover his face with it.
Jake would have laughed if he hadn’t been busy frigging his old man to point of insanity. Let his dad have the pillow for now. There would be plenty of other opportunities to repeat this same torture in the future and he would get to hear every cry of pain or pleasure that poured from Rob’s lips. He leaned forward, his face much closer to Rob’s cunt now. He could hear the muffled cries of pleasure much more easily from this closer and even from behind the layers of fluff and cotton he recognized the cadence of his dad’s voice. He grinned, wickedly; Rob was getting close. His dad’s hips began to cant on their own, robotic, mechanically seeking out his son’s probing fingers that didn’t stop for a moment to give the older man a break.
Then, something unexpected happened. The usual signs of physical pleasure pouring from Rob’s body dramatically halted, and his father froze in place before uncontrollable tremors began to surge through his body.
“J-Jake!! St-st-STOP!!!” he heard Rob clearly say, even with the pillow blocking this airways. For a moment Jake almost obeyed, slightly alarmed by his dad’s stricken reaction, but then the devil inside won out and he ramped up his fingering drawing a lengthy shriek from Rob that not even the pillow managed to contain.
His dad froze, a gagging sound erupting from his throat, before his hips arched off the mattress and a spray of vaginal fluid shot out of Rob’s cunt like a hose, hitting his son squarely in the face. Jake fell back on the bed in shock, instinctively wiping the musky fluid from his face. In the process, his hand was ripped from Rob’s orifices, drawing out a convulsion in his father. More fluid, less intense than before began to pulse and shoot from the open hole and then eventually settle into a dribble that soaked the sheets beneath both men. Jake stared down at his dad in wonder, as the intensity of the man’s orgasm calmed and he was left shivering from the sensory overload.
“Holy shit!” Jake exclaimed, wonders never ceasing for the young man when it came to bedding his sire. “I think you just squirted!” He had never seen a woman squirt in real life, only in the most decadent of pornography. He had wanted to experience it for years, and now here, in the most unexpected and unplanned of situations, his dirty wish had been granted.
Grin never leaving his face, Jake pried the pillow off his dad’s head, having to practically tear it out of his dad’s hands. Where the pillow had lain, Rob’s hands quickly filled the space, covering as much of his face as humanly possible. The older man was breathing heavily, still trembling as tiny waves of overwhelming sensation intermittently wracked his system. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat, causing his fur-like body hair to stick to his damp form. The room was full of the smell of sweat and cunt. The smell of Robert McManus.
Jake licked his lips, tasting his dad in his mouth, which only made him grin wider.
“You never told me you could do that…” he teased, knowing full well his dad would have died before admitting such a fact. The only response he got from the prone man was an exhausted sounding huff.
“You’re acting as if I even knew I could do...that,” he said, nearly spitting the last word out. Jake patted his dad’s leg in faux sympathy.
“Well, I don’t about you, but I’m feeling awfully thirsty after the fun we just had,” he paused, grin becoming more mischievous. “Let me go get you a bottle of water. You must be dehydrated.”
Jake dodged the pillow thrown at his head, laughing as he darted down the hall to the kitchen. When he came back to Rob’s bedroom, his father seemed a little more put together. He was sitting up now, still red skinned and slick to the touch, but his breathing had normalized. Jake jumped onto the bed next to his dad, bouncing a bit as he did so, and handed him the liquid refreshment. Rob sniffed the air and frowned.
“You need to take a shower,” he said, back in chiding father mode. Jake pretended to consider for a moment and replied,
“Nah, I think I like way I smell.” He looked directly into his father’s face. “It’s the smell of a job well done.” He was still laughing even as Rob pushed him off the side of the bed and he tumbled to the floor.
----
3 days until ovulation resumes…
Most days Jake awoke to the smell of bacon, the sprinkling of water from the bathroom shower, or even the grumpy voice of his dad calling his name, but none of those occurred this morning. Instead he woke up with a jolt, initially disorientated by his surroundings, before the final minutes of the previous night drifted back in his conscious memory. He was in the full size bed in his bedroom, the one he had slept in since he was a child and not Rob’s, which he was quickly beginning to think of as his bed. They had bickered about it when Rob told Jake he needed to go back to his own room last night.
“I made you cum and now you’re kicking me out,” Jake whined, but Rob was having none of that. Rob wiped his mouth, still damp from saliva from their earlier activities.
“Did you somehow forget about the blowjob I gave you less than 30 minutes ago?” Jake swallowed, feeling himself swell slightly. No, he remembered the feel of that mouth just fine. Rob rolled his eyes and pointed to the door.
“Out. I need my sleep since I have to go to the job site first thing in the morning.”
Jake grumbled, but put on his briefs and sauntered out of the room and down the hall to his own bedroom. He crashed onto the bed, suddenly feeling exhausted, yet not being able to fall asleep at all. This was one of the first times he had slept in his own bed since they had started...whatever you wanted to call what they were doing together. It had only been about a month, and sleeping alone in his own bed without the bulkier weight of his dad settled next to him already felt wrong.
He rolled on his side, a reawakened hardon poking out of his underwear. I can’t believe my old man kicked me out, he thought to himself. It’s like he doesn’t trust me to behave myself… He gave his full cock a sympathetic squeeze, conceded that maybe his dad had a point, and eventually sleep descended upon him.
Now in the stark light of the morning sun, and more cognizant of the oddity of his morning routine, Jake crawled out of bed, the crisp air making his nipples stand on end. He sniffed a pit. He probably needed a shower, but he decided to hold it off for now. Maybe he could punish his dad with his sweaty crotch and arms when the older man finally got home. Smirking to himself now, he strolled down the hall and peeked into the bedroom where his baby bro was still napping peacefully in the bassinet. Looks like it’s just you and me today, little bro.
Letting his brother sleep, he walked down the rest of the hallway to the kitchen, absentmindedly scratching his balls. He poured himself a quick bowl of cereal, shoveling milky grains into his mouth when he noticed a note with his dad’s chickenscratch laying on the counter.
At work. Help yourself to the fridge. Should be home for dinner. DON’T FORGET ABOUT YOUR BROTHER.
Jake rolled his eyes, crushing the paper in his hand. He tossed it sideways where it bounced off the rim of the trashcan and onto the floor. Ignoring the trash, he finished his breakfast, noisily slurping the leftover milk as he walked to the sink and put the bowl and spoon in with his dad’s coffee mug. He glanced at the sink and then the trash, frowning. I should probably do some cleaning…
Instead, he ended up crawling into his dad’s bed, where he drifted off surrounded by the scent of Robert McManus in his nostrils. His dreams were horny and erratic, full of images of bulging muscles and wet holes. In the dream, he was doing his damnedest to talk his dad into letting him rail his ass, and was just starting to make some headway, his tongue buried in the hairy pucker, when he was rudely awoken by the piercing cries of Caleb.
“Ugh…” Through weary eyes, he glanced at the electronic clock next to the bed. 10:47. Not even an hour had passed since he woke up this morning.
Caleb’s cries reached a pitch Jake couldn’t ignore, and he pulled himself off the mattress, muttering, “I’m coming...I’m coming.”
He hated to admit it, but he was a little more nervous without Rob here to supervise. Jake shook those thoughts out of his mind though. He was an adult, he could do this. He lifted Caleb gingerly in his arms, wondering what was the matter this time, when the smell hit him. He grimaced, holding Caleb a little further away than before. A leery peek into the full diaper confirmed his worst fears.
“I’m never letting you live this down, little bro,” he muttered, as he laid his brother back down and rummaged around for a fresh diaper.
Later, after successfully changing Caleb’s nappy all on his own (and disposing of the disgusting evidence), he set about getting something accomplished. Rob had always been a bit of a fastidious cleaner, and even with the baby he hadn’t slowed down too much. So, the house was still in pretty good shape. He rolling through all the easy chores he bulldoze his way through quick and easy: emptying the dishwasher, taking out the trash, vacuuming the carpet, etc. Eventually, he settled on doing laundry. Why not let a machine do all the heavy lifting? Rob had always been the one to clean the clothes when he was still a teenager (not trusting Jake’s lackadaisical cleaning mentality with his whites), and he had only begrudgingly learned how to do the task properly once he moved into the dorms and realized he had to do it himself unless he wanted to spend the entire semester smelling like a men’s locker room.
He made his discovery as he was digging through the assorted coloreds in the hamper. There, separated from the rest of the dirty whites, was a rolled up pair of tighty-whiteys, balled up inside one of his dad’s t-shirts. He didn’t think anything of it at first, assuming the underwear had accidentally been misplaced during the cleanup after one of their bedroom romps. Then he noticed the blood. Four tiny drops of red marking the scene of the crime, right in the cup. He grinned, and almost giggled, realizing what this meant.
“It’s that time of the month…”
A giddy excitement pulsed through Jake’s body and his mind raced with the possibilities as he contemplated what his next move should be. He grabbed a laundry basket, dumping soiled clothing into it haphazardly and carried it down the hall and down the stairs to the laundry room. When Robert McManus came home he was going to find out his newly dutiful son had stepped up and helped out with the chores around the house. Not just the laundry either; All of it. Everything he could get accomplished. With a new pep in his step, he hoisted the basket up and got to work.
When Rob returned from work later that evening, the first thing he noticed was the smell of cooking poultry in the air. Taking off his jacket, he peeked his head around the corner, catching a glimpse of his son, the very one who had to be dragged screaming and kicking into the kitchen just to boil a pot of water, turning a chicken breast in a pan with a pair of tongs. Holding his jacket in one arm, he walked across the living room toward the kitchen, curious about this sudden change in Jake’s behavior. The sound of boots on wood alerted Jake to his presence, and his oldest spun around, brandishing his tongs like a weapon.
“Jeez, don’t sneak up on me.” Jake said, his body visibly relaxing. He bounced forward toward his dad and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Go get changed. Dinner is almost done.” Eyebrows raised, Rob hesitantly followed his son’s command, missing the tiny smirk stitched onto his son’s face. When he stepped into his bedroom, everything looked...normal. Caleb was sleeping like a lamb, and looked freshly bathed. Rob smiled, bending forward to give his infant son a tiny kiss on the forehead.
“Hey, baby boy…” he murmured quietly, taking a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of seeing his son so cute and innocent. These days never lasted long, he thought, remembering how Jake turned into a royal terror once he started crawling. “You’re not going to be like your big, bad brother, are you?” he said to Caleb in a sing-song voice. As he walked toward the closet, lifting his dirty work shirt as he did so, he noticed the basket.
Sitting near the edge of the bed was a laundry basket full of clean, carefully folded men’s clothes and sitting on the very top of all of the colored shirts, like a crown of glory, was a conspicuously placed pair of white briefs. Fuck… Rob made no move toward the basket or even the bed. The message was clear enough from where he stood. His mind briefly flashed back to the discarded package of condoms in the trashcan, but all it took was a sideglance to see his son had gone to the trouble of taking out the trash as well. Very thorough. Rob thought to himself. Jake hadn’t even left the illusion of choice behind.
For one brief, soul-wracked moment, Rob was overcome with the urge to put his jacket back on, run out of the house, jump into his rental truck, and just keep driving. But then, as it always happened when the fear threatened to overcome him, his thoughts turned back to his boy. No, his boys, he corrected, remembering the newest member of their family sleeping away in the bassinet, completely unaware of his father’s trepidation. No, he wouldn’t, couldn’t walk away from the ones he loved. He wasn’t like his parents. Not now, not ever.
His stray thoughts turned back, as they often did in time of stress, to his oldest son, Jake. The physicality of him. He knew he shouldn’t think of him that way, but his traitorous body had its own agenda. He could feel himself beginning to moisten as he thought of the claim Jake was staking on him. He would never say this out loud, even to himself, but he fantasized about it, had fantasized long before Jake took the matter into his own hands and made the fantasy a reality. It was like a dream come true, but unlike a sleeping dream, there was never the safety of a wakening morning to escape back into when things became too scary. Now, his life had become like a waking dream, tossing him like a boat in a storm from one emotional extreme to another, seemingly dictated by the sexual whims of his wayward son. He could do anything and I wouldn’t stop him, he thought, a pang of agonizing arousal surging in his groin. My boy...he won’t stop until the deed is done. The hand on the underwear clenched the fabric hard enough to sting and his other hand grasped the dip between his legs, wanting to touch, even just a little, just the tip of a finger…
He was jolted out of his stupor by the clanging of metal-on-metal from the kitchen, followed by the throaty shout, “Dinner’s ready!” Rob dropped the briefs on the mattress as if burned, where they lay crumpled next to the heap of laundry. Dammit! Get it together, McManus! Taking a deep breath, he gave Caleb one last cursory glance and then left the room and his conflicted thoughts behind, his cunt aching for something Rob couldn’t name out loud.
----
1 day until ovulation resumes…
Jake was not surprised when Rob tried to call off sex between them. He could give his dad a break, for now. The man had just started menstruating again, and that had to suck. Rob seemed like the type who probably got the bad cramps too. Might explain the grumpy ass attitude he got sometimes…
Jake didn’t fight his dad about it. He had already made a statement earlier, so rather than wallowing in frustration, he decided he would use this lull in their sex life to supremely torture the older man. He took every chance he could to walk around the house half naked: lounging on the couch with no shirt on, doing yoga in a pair of baggy sweatpants that hung precariously on his hips, whatever he could get away with “naturally.” To Rob’s credit, he did a good job pretending like he didn’t notice or care. And maybe he did notice less than usual. Maybe the periods really did suck for him. But, Jake had his doubts.
So he upped his game. Shirtless posing turned into the open flaunting of his naked body. He would slip into the bathroom while his dad was showering to take a piss, offering his most faux sincere apologies. He would “forget” a clean towel when he did his own bathing, shouting for his dad to fetch him one so the man had to watch drops of water cascade down his youthful body. He had even started slyly masterbating when his dad was in an adjacent room, making no shortage of noise as he did so. Never to completion, just enough to get his juices flowing, and hopefully his dad’s as well. He hadn’t expected to enjoy himself as much as he was. This little game he was playing was turning out to be a potent aphrodisiac for the younger man.
After a couple of days of this behavior, he could see Rob’s walls beginning the weaken, wobbling at the foundations with every glimpse of his eldest son’s flesh that came into his view. As he strutted out of the bathroom from one of his sessions of “self harm”, working himself up to a sweat from the intensity of his stroking and fixations, he caught the shamefilled glance his dad gave his body as he stepped out of the bathroom and knew he had ensnared the older man once again. Tonight would be the time to pounce for the kill.
Dinner started out as a simple affair; leftover pizza and garlic bread from a local pizzeria. Both men hadn’t bothered to dress up, each content in old sweats and t-shirts. As Jake nibbled on a slice of cheese pizza, he angled his foot so it rubbed against his father’s shin and then up the beefy leg to settle on the older man’s thigh. Rob pointedly didn’t respond, but Jake had learned enough of his dad’s physiological responses to recognize the signs: a slight, barely perceptible jerkiness to his hand movements, a reddening of the neck that threatened to inch up to his cheeks, a drop of perspiration flowing down the side of his face, they were all there, plain as day for whoever could decipher the language of Robert McManus’ body. Jake never moved his foot. He let it sit there, a constant presence that reaffirmed his ability to elicit power and control over his dad even from the simplest of touches.
Later, after dinner, Rob was lounging on the couch in the living room, a sports magazine in one hand a beer in the other. This was Rob’s third beer for the night, more than his usual one or two. On the TV, repeats and commentary of last night’s football game played, a familiar and comforting background noise for Rob. He seemed unaware of his son’s prying gaze. Completely vulnerable, Jake thought to himself, licking his lips. He slinked over closer, never within his dad’s direct eyesight, but always there perched in the corner of Rob’s vision. He grinned as his dad brought the magazine closer to his face, hiding all but the mop of greying, black curls on top of his head.
When Jake finally settled in next to him, nude except for an old jock he had found in his closet, Rob nearly jumped out of his skin. Rob lay back, frozen, as Jake took the magazine in his hand and tossed it across the room where it landed in a heap of fanned paper. He didn’t throw the beer though, instead setting the nearly empty bottle down on the table next to them. His eyes met Rob’s, a knowing exchange passing between them.
“Jake…” Rob began, but his protestations were cut short by his son’s lips crashing into his own. A muffled moan rumbled between his pursed lips, but he put up no struggle as his son began to lay him down flat on the leather cushioning. When Jake reluctantly broke the kiss, a tiny strand of saliva tied them together for a single moment before breaking with a noiseless snap. The familiar glaze was beginning to settle in his dad’s face, and he knew his old man was ripe for the taking. Rob voiced no protestations when he moved to tug the older man’s pants off his body. This was a well traveled road for the pair by this point, and the old sweatpants, turned inside out during the disrobing, dropped to the floor next to them. As Jake’s hand gripped the waist band of his dad’s underwear, Rob’s own palms halted his son.
“Jake. Wait…” he began, a bit of his old authority rising in his voice. Even still, it was obvious the older man was fighting an internal battle with himself, and losing if Rob’s quickening breath was a sign of things to come. Jake stood perfectly still, his lean and tone body hovering over his father’s, like a divine being seducing a mere mortal. Finally, Rob found his voice.
“We...we shouldn’t…” he said, and realizing his son needed clarification, he added, “I’m...not clean...inside…” The admission seemed to have cost his father, because a look of profound disappointment settled in the rugged features of the man’s face. Jake wasn’t sure if his dad was disgusted in his body’s natural tendencies or his failure to please his boy. Either way, he wasn’t having any of it. He scooted up closer, situating himself between his dad’s legs, their groins in alignment with one another, his teenage package nearly touching his father’s clothed entrance.
Eyes shining with a fierce expression, Jake tore at the white cotton with all of his strength and it ripped with a tearing sound that sounded cacophonous in the near silent room. The shreds of fabric still clung to Rob’s legs, but the body of the underwear, the place that Jake’s attention was fixated on, was completely exposed. A pad, dyed red from hours of usage, dropped limply between Rob’s legs. The sight of blood ignited something primal in the son, and he scooped his now aching erection from it’s athletic prison, letting it land on top of the red and white remains of Rob’s undergarments.
“That doesn’t scare me,” Jake said, simply, no more words necessary as he sank back inside his father’s body. The feeling inside was no different on a physical, but the realization of what they were doing and how they were doing it added a layer of heightened reality to their coupling. Rob gawked at his son in disbelief, his cunt spasming at the intrusion, before his natural tendency to please and accommodate set back in and he lay passively on the couch, letting his son do as he pleased.
As Jake’s cock inched inwards and out, a now familiar rhythm for the pair, he chanced a glance downward and saw that his cock was clean for the moment. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed. It made no difference in the end, and soon enough he settled into a comfortable pattern, grinding his hips intimately against his father’s. Some combination of the angle, the speed, or perhaps perversely, the period, served to draw out a submissive passion in Rob. Quiet moans of pleasure came from his mouth. A steady “hah...hah...hah…” that floated in the air around them.
Jake angled his cock just right, letting the head brush up against his father’s prostate. He made no move to touch his dad with anything but the cock, letting the tool between his legs do the talking and lay down the law. This was the one and only area in their lives together where words were not necessary. Here, on top of his father, inside the man who made him, Jake felt a sense of completion he couldn’t properly express, but there was something he could say, something that felt more and more right everytime they coupled. He felt ready.
“You know I love you, right Dad?” he said, more a statement than a question. His penetrative strokes never ceased, a constant in and out that floated between pleasure and torture. The words took a moment to land on Rob’s brain, and a look of confusion eventually became shock and then back to something resembling his normal expression.
“Yeah...I’m your dad,” he said, and at first Jake didn’t take his meaning until he realized the rationalization that was settling into his dad’s mind.
“No.” he said, thrusting hard against that spot. “Not like family. Like a lover. Like a man. Like a husband loves his wife.” Rob’s eyes widened, disbelief shining in his expression, but he said nothing. Jake had put into concrete terms the thing that he craved and despised most of all, and the reality of it was too much to process, not while the source of that conflict was busy fucking his brains out.
If anything the confession seemed to have lowered his father’s inhibitions. The man’s bulky legs opened just that bit more, as if eagerly accepting his son inside his body now that he knew definitively that more than simple lust was at play. The sight of it aroused Jake and his thrusts grew harder, harsher, his arousal rising above any thought of his dad’s comfort and moving to claim the older man as his.
Now there was blood, thin but viscous, coating the length of Jake’s prick. The sight of it stilled the young man. He was reminded of an incident back during his first semester of college. A girl he had been chasing had eventually given it up to him only for Jake to find out during the act that she had been a virgin. Rob, perhaps detecting the trepidation building within his son, gripped Jake’s arm, his hands strong, steady, and unmistakably fatherly.
“You don’t have to stop,” he said softly, voice almost too quiet to hear. Then, even quieter, a deeper admission.
“It feels good.”
Jake’s eyes widened and he resumed his thrusts, concerns about Rob’s wellbeing now and truly in the past. His father responded to his son’s passion openly and enthusiastically, legs open as much as he could manage on the limited space of the couch. Wet, slick sounds came from his open hole, which clenched on Jake’s length with every inward thrust. Jake wasn’t looking at his cock anymore. His eyes were locked on his father’s, his passionate gaze mirrored in the blue globes just like his very own.
He saw his dad’s lips part, saw the tip of the pink tongue dart out, timid and searching. He eagerly answered his father’s call. Their lips crashed together, in perfect harmony, tongues connecting and mixing saliva, forming an oral cocktail that was all McManus. Jake was on top of his father, nearly flat with the older man’s covered chest. He would brush against Rob’s nipples as he moved forward drawing tiny, breathless sighs that poured into his son’s mouth. Neither man wanted to break the kiss, but eventually the natural order reasserted itself, and they broke for air, gasping in time.
“Fuck me, Jake,” Rob said, arms clutching his son’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle hard enough to mark. As Jake obeyed his father’s cries, the older man’s legs instinctively wrapped around his boy’s hips, heels crossing and digging into the dip of Jake’s lower back. Rob’s pelvis raised as much as he could manage and he was nearly rolled into a ball in his efforts to make himself the best target for his son’s passions and aggression. The angle was perfect, the big cock slamming into his spot with each hammer thrust.
In fact, it was so good, so perfect, that Rob didn’t even need to have his clit stimulated to be taken over the edge. His mouth opened into a silent scream, lips trembling in a spasmic “O”. Jake felt the way his dad’s cunt came alive, matching the uncontrollable quivers on the man’s mouth.
“Oh god,” Rob moaned, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’t stop...please.” Jake couldn’t have stopped even if he had wanted to. Driven to the next level by his dad’s orgasm, Jake now fucked in earnest, throwing his full weight into it, bouncing his hips and letting gravity power his downward strokes. Rob didn’t complain, couldn’t it seemed. His eyes squinted and bulged in response, sensations too powerful to put into coherent words, and he responded vocally the only way he was able, “Ahh!! Ahh!! Ahh!!”
Jake’s hands, grasping manically in his passion, seized the sides of Rob’s head, holding it in a deathgrip as he staked his claim. His eyes never left Rob’s face as he said,
“You’re mine, Dad. Tell me you’re mine!” If it was even possible, Rob’s eyes teared up just that little bit more as he choked out his response, “Ahh...y-yes...Uh-ahh...Yours!” The last word came out like a roar, as if some chained up part of Robert’s psyche had finally managed to escape from its prison and was screaming into the night.
Rob was a sweaty mess by this point, shirt soaked to his chest. His body began to meet his son’s manic thrusts, hands digging like claws into his son’s flesh as he took everything Jake threw at his body without complaint. He really does belong to me, Jake thought in wonder, and knew without a shadow of doubt, that every thing he fantasized about could and would become a reality. He risked a glance down, wanted to see the place of connection, and the sight of red smeared across their laps and staining the cushions was a jolt to the system. He was instantly reminded of that night, the image of birth that had burned itself into his mind like a brand, and made him realize he wanted to do that to his own father. Now I am.
The realization was all that was needed, and with a shout of “Fuck!”, young Jake McManus spilled his seed into his father’s now fertile cunt. Rob sensed what was happened, perhaps even feeling the charge of liquid burning its way into his uterus, screamed as well, and a convulsion that looked more painful than pleasurable wracked his older body, his lips tightening on his son’s body hard enough to bruise. “Oh my god…oh my god…” he chanted over and over again, seemingly in a different state of being, one that was focused solely on the conquering effects of his son’s advances.
When the dust finally settled and both men slumped, Jake practically collapsing on top of his father as the older man sunk into the couch. They didn’t speak. There was only the sounds of harsh breathing, lungs desperately grasping for much needed air as their hearts pounded in their chest. Jake could hear it too, the rapid, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, of Rob’s heart beating away, too physically and emotionally stimulated to settle down to a normal rate. It was a strangely comforting sound, and even the knowledge that he had brought that upon the older McManus couldn’t wipe that feeling away. Rob made no move to stop Jake as his oldest son rubbed his face between his dad’s breasts, smelling his father masculine odor and the coppery tang of blood just out of view. He suddenly felt like a little boy and clutched his father that much harder.
“Sorry about...everything,” he said lamely, and felt a wave of relief when his head shook from the vibrations of his father’s quiet chuckle.
“Next time, let’s grab a towel first,” Rob said, goodhearted amusement twinkling in his words. Next time, Jake thought, feeling his cock give a sympathetic twitch, and Rob’s legs squeezed him in turn, his hips gently rolling, like he was rocking his own son while he was inside him. They stayed like this for a while, joined together as one, until the calls of the youngest McManus forced them to part.
Afterwards, they showered together, lazily touching and soaping each other’s bodies, the frantic passion of before having now dimmed to a calm tone. When they settled down for bed, both in Robert’s bed, their bed, sleep hit them both like a wave, and they drifted off, Jake wrapped in the comforting feeling of his father’s arms. Neither man dreamed and Caleb slept through the night. All was well in the McManus household.
Meanwhile, deep inside Rob’s body, Jacob McManus’ seed patiently went to work. The ground was fertile. It was time to bear fruit.
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