A Dad who fucks his son so full of guilt that he has to keep his eyes screwed shut or he might accidentally bust a nut from the utter mix of disgust and loathing he feels akin to a hot ache in his core, though now he can only focus on the wet plaps and the heady tug of his boy's hole when he moves faster.
He convinces himself it's all just to get it over with.
That each plunge, thoroughly intimate with his cockhead reaching deep depths in a meaty kiss, is just the result of his frantic bucking, yet his jaw is hung loose, drool spills from his lips and he's groaning with his son held captive below.
“Ohh...oh fuck..." He finally loses it. The shallow will to believe that simply closing his eyes would absolve him of all this shame. The guilt that’s compounded into a nervous rattle throughout his spine finally comes to an eerie slow the moment he peers down.
There, his boy’s hands are clenched on the sheets below, and a slow rhythm moves his son- panting he recognizes.
His son is arched up against him, and dad’s own larger hands have naturally found their way to his son's flank, resting above his hips.
He's really inside his son right now. His entire cock is.
“Holy..."
he can't even finish his thought. he pulls back to check if this is real, that his cock didn't magically disappear. Along with the pull comes a fresh surplus of desire when he watches the way his son arches back into him, greedy to take his father back inside him with a slow, arduous slurp.
it’s disgusting how pleased the sight makes him,
so he thrusts with intention.
it's wet music to his ears, a raunchy shlick that combined with the visual, has his cock jumping naturally with a spurt of fresh pre feeding into his son's seemingly bottomless hole. He's never had to think that his son was a whore in his life, but somehow, the thought settles more comfortably in his mind now that he’s accepted the truth.
maybe it's because he knows himself to be so depraved that it almost feels like some common biological urge in their shared blood.
He moves his hips to the thought of this, and he pays close attention to the joining of their bodies, his much more masculine one and the way their skin bunches, and how his son's ass receives it without a wink of regret. How could this little shit be so unaffected by what’s been weighing on him this entire time? the underlying muscles in his son's body shift to relax once dad picks up his lost rhythm and a subtle moan of satisfaction rings through his ears. He growls. “little fucker…” He can't possibly be frustrated. Not when he’s having the time of his life, so he takes a hold of his son so firmly that his fingers dig into his hips and he picks up the pace with a plethora of wet, meaty smacks that douse the weak embers of his son’s whining.
He wanted this. no more worrying about what the fuck’ll happen after this. dad’s gotta cum, and his son’s about to learn why he shouldn’t have agreed to this. He should be terrified, should’ve wanted to move out the moment he heard his dad agree to this. even that yes was so huge- yet his son of course said, “it’ll be fine. Of course it’ll feel good! we can take it slow…”
The older man knows logically he needs only to scratch this itch and that it’ll be over. The outstretched grasp towards finality shows its mark in a twinge carrying up his swollen balls. He hasn’t been so certain that he’d cum since the night he came in this boy’s mother…but fuck, focusing on the present does it’s dues better than he’d thought it would.
He burns the information along the coast of his fingers, the slap of his son’s ass and how it stings his palm, the hair atop his head and how each lock threads through the gaps in his fingers, those wet lips that part so easily for him in a cry of vulnerability, and that cute little tongue lulling out so damn salaciously.
He shouldn’t feel so damn shy about a kiss, yet he’s already made it this far, and he can recognize the hunger in his son’s eyes. The gentle prying, the seeking for contact more than this ass has already had with it’s effect on him. He’s being sucked in, not only literally.
“So greedy……fuck, I love you.”
Dad tastes his son’s answer before their tongues meet.
“You..too…”
Their lips envelop one another. Their words now are only electricity travelling along one another’s nerves.
He’s already hunched over, keeping that face held up to his. Despite the drool, he somehow feels parched so he melts into the kiss with ruthless intensity that becomes all enveloping.
He must devour.
Dad moves his hips and hums in approval at the way he’s so eagerly accepted by his boy, his bottom lip sucked on, a tongue coasting along his own- his son really is a whore in every sense. Inside his son, the world fucks off for a second- and his senses dissolve into a thrum of heavenly electricity. His neurons feel like they’re on fire from the mish-mash of senses colliding together all at once.
He can’t let anyone have this. It’s too addictive to let go of.
The larger man eats away at a squeal, pinning his son to the bed, completely smothering him in his weight. His hips move, undulating in motion while he captures those arms, holding them down onto the bed. If anyone were to walk in, they’d see a man completely in the throes of lust, intent on making a baby if they didn’t know any better.
It’s too damn bad he can’t because if it was up to him…he’d have this slut on his cock all day everyday, morning and night taking his seed like the good little faggot he is. Perhaps those kinds of people are drawn towards one another. Perverts that feel disgusting thoughts. It would explain the magnetism, and the sudden loss of strain on his body as though he’s been cut loose from the hypothetical strings of his regret.
Like roiling waves of magma bubbling up on the shores of heated rock in a slow, eventual rise, the shape of their two bodies that can’t live without one another eats away at his mind. his muscles exhale, and he lets out a sound from his chest like a deep groan.
his heart races as the earth slams back down onto him. He’s about to orgasm. He knows what it feels like to cum, but his body feels as though it’s turning inside out to warn him of the impending heat threatening to boil his core down into nothing.
There’s a rhythmic panic, his heart racing, but it’s just as soon smoothed over as his animal instincts take the reins, reminding him he’s in the throes of excitement. it’s only normal for it to feel so strong when your son turns you on like this. what a fucking godsend being a horrible father is.
Something escapes his body in heaves, causing his heavy balls to draw up. the motion pulls his hips forward into long thrusts that escape his notion of distance, like the tides of a blackhole that pull your body apart into string. It’s so tight. So perfect. So utterly unbearable that he can’t tell when his orgasm has ended.
All he can feel is the centerpiece of his urges letting out a few stuttering breaths in each thrust, at what must be the flood of his cum settling.
The room begins to zero in on itself, and he takes a long series of breaths now that he feels so heavy. Gravity’s returned, and it swells down to his bones. He can feel several cramps brewing, but right now it feels wrong to just…look away. Ignore what he’s done.
He’s fucked his son. It felt unbelievable…and he isn’t sure if he can ever go back from this, but there’re no words he can properly give right now to describe that. Beneath him, in that heap of a mess, he isn’t quite sure what to say…so instead he reaches out.
His boy’s feeling just as clammy as he was, and a soft huff escapes him at remembering those tempting words that started this all off.
Of course it would feel good.
It’s only been a short time since then, having struggled to get back up, but a cool cloth bathes his forehead, and another wipes down his son’s body. He smiles down at him, though it’s not a pitying look. He keeps his eyes lingering on him, watching his boy’s expression turn into a mystified one as if stuck in a haze, softly realizing all that’d happened.
That’s right, It was no dream. “You’re lucky I’m an old man…or I’d be hard all over again, the way you’re looking at me.”
He admits, half jokingly. The thought of going again does get him an errant throb…but it aches a little too much to go ahead and try it.
They’d definitely gone rougher than they should have for their first time at least. A small part of him knows he’s glad it happened like that, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to accept the man he is. He’d been aiming just to get it over with…but he enjoyed himself just a little too much to go back.
He’s definitely keeping this all to himself.
