Bobby was so fucking drunk, Dean really shouldn’t have flirted with him. But Sam was gone, away at Standford, and Bobby was sweating from working in the garage. So, Dean brought out Bobby’s birthday present, just a few weeks early, with some ice. Bottle of some good stuff, strong stuff. And maybe he’d just kept pouring, maybe he wanted to see if he could get the old man riled up. Maybe he hadn’t noticed the motor oil behind him, putting ideas into Bobby’s drunken mind. Dean wasn’t to know how horny Bobby had been lately, what having a writhing body beneath him would do for him.
Dean kept trying to scream, Bobby easily thicker than a beer can and pounding into his asshole like its job was to cleave it in two. But Bobby had thought of that, and a cleaning rag had been swiftly stuffed in his mouth. Dean’s eyes widened in horror as he felt Bobby’s hips a little growing closer to his ass, Bobby slurring out some curses and laughing darkly as he forced his way halfway inside. He hadn’t used fingers, no need to, plenty of oil for lube, and time to break open the teasing little bastard. Bobby’s mechanic jumpsuit was open, his hairy chest and gut on full display, showing the weight and power he was putting into every thrust. Dean’s legs were gripped tight in his hands, just above his knees, and his hands were alternating between pushing Bobby off and feeling up his dad bod.
“Goddamn, son, you shouldn’t have kept givin’ me those eyes. Open up, I mean it, or I’m gonna fuck right through that tight pucker.” Bobby ordered, pushing just a little deeper and making Dean yelp into the gag. The younger hunter stopped trying to weakly push him off, groaning into his rag and trying to relax his hole. Bobby held still, using the chance to grab the bottle from next to Dean’s head on the workbench, swallowing down another two shots worth. Dean gazed up at him with worried eyes, and Bobby grinned perversely, speaking before gulping some more down. “Need to fuck you good and proper, boy, need that to make sure I don’t take it easy on your sorry ass.”
Dean’s hole relaxed almost against his will as he exhaled, and there was the smallest second of peace before his uncle Bobby shoved his entire cock into his formerly virgin hole. His resulting muffled scream had Bobby’s eyes widening, but not with guilt. The drunken red-blooded hick needed to breed, and Bobby changed his grip to around Dean’s hips. He sniggered stupidly before the only other man Dean thought of as father started aggressively fucking Dean’s hole like he was trying to knock the man up or break him in half.
“Want your daddy to walk in, want him to see me takin’ you! Fuckin’ his boy! Holy shit, son, I’m gonna fill you up. We won’t be done, don’t you worry about that, but it’s a start!” Bobby yelled into Dean’s scared face, both staring at each other with wide eyes, Bobby drooling on his face. He forced more of himself onto the bench, Dean letting out a shrill whine as Bobby began slamming him deeper than ever before, stretching him far too wide. Dean began panicking, feeling an orgasm start to build and knowing it would force him to tighten up way too much on the monster cock inside him. Bobby didn’t care, even as Dean shoved at his shoulders, Bobby’s fingers found their way around his neck and squeezed, the drunk leaning down and beginning to yell as his own orgasm neared. “Take my cum, boy, take my fucking load! Take it, take it you fucking princess, prettiest fucking mouth I ever saw! And after I’m done filling up your cunt with sperm, I’m gonna fucking take your PRETTY!! FUCKING!! MOUTH!!!”
Bobby’s hips were slamming into him so aggressively the wall was shaking, and Dean was screaming with what little air he could get out. His face was turning bright red, his cunt squeezing around Bobby even if he didn’t want it to, forcing his prostate to get as hammered as Bobby. He came on his father figure’s cock like a whore, his trapped dick spurting all over their chests and bellies, Bobby’s own brutal orgasm lasting even longer than his as he filled up the closest thing he had to a son. He didn’t stop rutting and squeezing until every drop was where it needed to go…not bad for a first round, he thought, Dean already sobbing and trying to get Bobby to kiss him, even saying please. Who said booze couldn’t lead to healthy behaviors?
When you play with fire, sometimes you get burned!!
And now Dean can spend all his time at Bobby's either on his knees or on his back, taking it... now that Bobby had a taste of that sweet bussy he's not going back to his hand! Not when the sweetest, prettiest boy who does everything he's told is right there...
Of course, Dean might be a little scared but he thrists for the attention... he loves being special...
