Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Oh fuck, Daddy!” Stiles snarled, his voice thick with lust. “Your hole is so goddamn tight!”

His ass clenched and rippled as he pounded into Peter’s hairy hole, each thrust driving him closer to the edge. The 18-year-old jock’s eyes were glazed over, his mind a mess of dirty thoughts and pure, unadulterated need. “You make my Boy cock feel so fucking good,” he grunted, his grip tightening on Peter’s hips. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum!”

“Good boy, Stiles,” Peter growled, his voice a low rumble from where he lay, spread-eagled on his back. “Give Daddy Peter that hot boy seed. Fill my fat ass, boy! “

That was all the permission Stiles needed. He slammed into Peter, burying himself deep into the muscle bear’s guts. A guttural moan ripped from his throat as he felt his balls empty, shooting load after load. “Mmmm, I’m c-c-cumming! OH, DADDY! I’m breeding you!” he roared, lost in the primal pleasure.

For those glorious, messy seconds, Stiles was drowning in a sea of pure lust. Every thrust, every spasm, was fueled by raw, carnal desire. But as he kept pumping into Peter’s enormous, meaty ass, the thick fog started to lift. With each shot of cum, the warm blanket of desire started to unravel, replaced by a chilling sense of reality. The lust in his face morphed into confusion, and as the weight of what he was doing crashed down on him, confusion twisted into pure, unadulterated horror.

“Holy shit! Dad? What the fuck are we doing?” Stiles gasped, his voice cracking with a mix of panic and disbelief. “Why is my cock… in your ass?” He looked down, his eyes wide with horror, taking in the reality of his situation. He tried to pull back, desperate to escape, but his cock was still throbbing in Peter’s hot, wet hole, stubbornly refusing to leave. It was swimming in his own sticky, delicious seed, a disgusting reminder of what had just happened. The room started to swim as he took in the scene, and a wave of nausea crashed over him.

Peter could feel Stiles’s cock softening inside him, the hard, throbbing muscle turning limp. He knew that the high was wearing off, and the reality was settling in for the kid. He was gonna have to deal with this mess. The older man grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This part was almost as entertaining as the actual fucking, observing how his son reacted to their twisted actions. Stiles' shock was beautifully displayed on his young, innocent face; a perfect mixture of horror and confusion. Preserving this look too long wouldn't be ideal, though. 

As Stiles began to extract his cock from his father's ass, the dominant bear of a man quickly reached out and tweaked one of Stiles' nipples, causing a gasp to escape his lips.

"Happy fucking Birthday, Son," Peter grunted, his voice low and gruff.

Hearing those words, Stiles whimpered, and his cock twitched, still tightly packed in his father's hole. Stiles' confusion started to dissipate under the fog of lust. He was reluctantly starting to see the appeal of it all. His dad's fat ass felt incredibly warm and inviting around his cock, and the fact that he was fucking his own father made it all the more delicious.

"Why does it feel so right and wrong at the same time?" Stiles wondered aloud.

With a loud "pop" sound, Stiles pulled his big cock out, cum leakages dripping from his father's well-fucked hole. He looked down at the mess he had made, a mix of his own cum and his father's ass juice forming a puddle on the hardwood floor. It had already gotten quite big, indicating this was not the first time he had discharged his load inside his dad. 

Suddenly, another thought popped into Stiles' head: Did I really fill Daddy up with all my jizz? He chuckled to himself, the cloud of confusion lifting. Just the thought of it, the sheer depravity, was enough to make his cock ache even more. "Oh my god, I'm a total jock. My balls must be full to the brim with jizz," he thought, grinning at the thought of unleashing another load of spunk into his father's ass.

"Good boy, Stiles. Trust your cock, son. Let it guide you like a good little jock should follow his coach," Peter encouraged, his voice full of heat and lust. "No need to think. Just look into my eyes."

Stiles' eyes met his father's, and it was like he could see his whole world in those deep blue pools. He felt his thoughts blurring, his mind a mix of confusion and lust. This felt so right and so wrong at the same time, and it was driving him crazy. He was a muscular jock, and his father was his plaything.

"That's right, son. Empty your mind. A horny young hunk like you doesn't need to think about anything but his cock. You're young, dumb, and full of cum. You know that, don't you?" Peter whispered, his hands gripping Stiles' meaty ass, pulling him closer.

Stiles nodded, his brain feeling as if it was melting inside his skull. He was a young, dumb jock, and his father was his to use and abuse as he pleased. He looked down at his massive, glistening cock, the tip pressed against his father's furry ass. Stiles could feel his cock twitching, ready to plunge back into the forbidden depths of his father's ass.

"Look at my big, hairy ass, boy. You remember how good it felt, don't you?" Peter taunted, positioning on four and waving his fat ass in front of Stiles' cockhead. "You remember the way my ass felt around your hard, young cock? You remember how soft and pliable it felt, how it made you feel like a real man?"

Stiles nodded again, his cock twitching harder at the thought of being inside his father's gigantic and furry fuckable meaty ass again. He was a dumb jock with a hard cock, and his father was his to fucking use. He lined up his cock with Peter's ass, the tip slipping in easily, and he let out a soft moan at the sensation of being inside his dad's ass again. The world around him melted away and all that mattered was his cock and his father's ass. This was where his hard boy dick belonged, and he was going to fuck his father until they both couldn't walk anymore.

"How does my ass feel on your cock, boy?" Peter asked with a smirk, his voice rumbling through the room along with the slapping sound of his giant asscheeks resonating against his son's powerful thrusts.

Stiles grinned back, his eyes glazed with lust and pure fucking need. "Your ass feels so fucking good, Daddy. It's so big and thick, just like my cock. It's perfect for my big, thick, uncut cock to slide into," he groaned, his words barely coherent as he started to thrust in and out of his father's ass faster.

"You like that, don't you?" Peter grunted, pushing his ass back to meet Stiles' thrusts in sync. "You like how squishy it is, don't you, boy?"

Stiles nodded, lost in the sensation of his father's ass. "It's so warm and wet inside, like a fuckin' pillow. It's soaked with my jizz, and it feels so good to fuck."

Peter chuckled, reaching back to grab a handful of Stiles' pecs, looking him deep in the eyes. "That's because it's full of your boy seed, son. You've been fucking me for hours, filling my ass up with your spunk just like a good, young stud should. And now you're going to fuck me until you're ready to burst again and fill my ass with even more of your jizz, aren't you?"

Stiles groaned, his cock aching for release. He was so close to the edge, so ready to unload another wad of cum inside his father's ass. He was a jock, a young, dumb, and full of cum, and this was exactly where he belonged: balls deep inside his father's ass, fucking the older man like there was no tomorrow.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Stiles mumbled, his voice thick with a drowsy haze. He didn’t even bat an eye at the fact that his memory was a complete blank, that somehow, they’d apparently been going at it all night. Who cares, he thought, a slow, stupid grin spreading across his face. “I’m just a dumb boy,” he reminded himself, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at his lips. A dumb boy with a hard-on that could rival a steel beam, and balls that felt like they were bursting at the seams with hot, sticky cum. And that’s all that mattered. All that should matter. His only purpose, as far as he could tell, was to breed and breed, to fill older men’s giant, gaping asses until he was completely empty. He was a breeding machine, and right now, that felt like the best, the only thing he could ever be.

Stiles’s gaze drifted to the mirror, the one he and Peter had just been fucking in front of, and the reflection jolted him. He saw his own young, muscular body, all raw power and barely contained energy, bucking and grinding in and out of his Dad’s furry ass. And as he watched himself, the memories came flooding back – not like a gentle stream, but like a tsunami of dirty, twisted truth. He remembered the countless hours in the gym, months of pushing his body to the limit, all leading up to this, his 18th birthday. He remembered Peter’s voice, a low, seductive whisper in his ear, telling him how important it was to be fit for Daddy, to be ready for Daddy, how he needed to be Hard for Daddy. He remembered the vague, dreamlike mornings after those late-night workouts, a feeling of pride washing over him as he remembered that he was being Daddy’s Good Boy. His hand would instinctively go to his cock, the memory of his Father’s voice echoing in his mind, “Daddy’s Good Boy. Daddy’s Hard Boy…” He’d stroke himself until he was a sticky mess, his young, jock body coated in cum, his balls emptied over and over again.

“Soon boy, soon… you will be ready…” Peter’s voice echoed in Stiles’s memory, a sinister promise that had been hanging over him for months.

And then, today. Stiles’s 18th birthday. He’d woken up hard and throbbing with excitement, a giddy feeling bubbling in his chest. He was finally a man, and today was going to be big. He smiled, a wide, innocent grin, as a text from Daddy popped up on his phone: “Happy 18th, come to my room for your present.”

He practically bounced to Peter’s room, and when he pushed the door open, the sight before him stole his breath away. There was Peter, naked, on his hands and knees, his gigantic, bare, furry ass facing the door, a fleshy mountain that seemed to hum with power. And that’s when Peter, the man who was supposed to raise him, to guide him, the man who was supposed to make him a decent citizen, spoke the three words that would shatter their normal relationship and send Stiles spiraling down a dark incestuous path.

“Happy birthday, Boy,” Peter purred, and it was like a switch flipped in Stiles’s brain. It was like his mind went on autopilot, his actions no longer his own, controlled by some twisted puppeteer within. His hands were on his cock, his clothes were on the floor, and his body was responding to some primal command as he grew harder, his eyes locked on his Father’s inviting ass. He stumbled towards it, like a drunken zombie with a massive, throbbing dick, his foreskin peeled back to reveal a bulbous, purple head that was already glistening with precum.

“Daddy…” Stiles moaned, the word raw with need.

“Like your present, boy?” Peter taunted, his voice dripping with a sick, twisted satisfaction.

“Yes, Daddy,” Stiles whispered, his head throbbing as his vision tunneled in on his Dad’s thick, inviting ass.

“You want to stick your cock inside my pussy? Breed Daddy’s guts?” Peter pressed, pushing him closer to the edge.

“Yes, Daddy,” Stiles answered without hesitation, his voice barely a rasp.

“You’re just a Good Boy, aren’t you Stiles. A Hard Boy,” Peter purred, his words like a hypnotic spell.

“So… Hard… DA-A-A-DY!” Stiles roared, lost in a wave of pure, carnal need.

“Then c’mere,” Peter growled, and Stiles knew, with a sickening certainty, that he was exactly where his father wanted him.

As Stiles' thoughts came back into focus, he remembered the hours of relentless fucking, the different positions, and the unbridled lust that overtook him as his father guided him through their perverse journey. Each time he came, his awareness returned, but it was always Peter who brought him back to his senses, reminding him that he was a dumb jock with a hard cock, and that his place was inside his father's ass, and destroying his son's mind defenses, on and off. 

He looked down at the cum that continued to drip from his father's ass, a mix of his own jizz and Peter's ass juice. It was a tangible reminder of just how much he had fucked his father, how much of his young, jock spunk he had pumped into the older man's ass. He felt a sense of pride, knowing that he had claimed his father, had turned him into his personal fuck toy.

And with that thought, Stiles felt his cock twitch again, ready for another round of breeding. He wanted to fill his father's ass up again, to claim him as his own. He was a dumb jock with a hard cock, and his father was his to use and abuse as he saw fit(because that's exactly how Peter wanted and liked it). 

With a grunt, he plunged his still-hard cock back into his father's ass, feeling the familiar warmth envelop him. He was home, and this was where he belonged. He would fuck his father until they both couldn't walk anymore and then maybe he would fuck him some more. 

As he resumed his breeding, he felt his mind start to blank again, his thoughts fading away as he became one with his father, their bodies moving together in a primal, fucked up dance that only made sense to them. This was what it meant to be a dumb jock with a hung, hard cock, and this was what it meant to be a father who loved his son enough to bring him to the edge of debauchery and beyond. They were both lost, and they were both found, and nothing could ever change that. 

The Good, Hard boy inside him smiled, before bending down, eating and licking Peter’s hairy hole, pushing his tongue as long as possible up his father’s gut cleaning all of the cum he left inside his daddy. And with the taste of his own man seed on his lips and his dad's ass-juices, the two began to kiss as their marathon breeding session continued apace with the younger man breeding and breeding the manipulative and insatiable older man’s furry mancunt.

As their marathon breeding session continued, both men knew that this was only the beginning. They had crossed a line, and they would continue to cross it again and again until their cocks were spent and their asses were sore. But they would always come back for more because this was where they belonged. They were father and son, and they were lovers, and nothing could ever tear them apart. Not even the twisted, perverse act that had brought them together in the first place. They would fuck each other until the end of time, and beyond because that was what it meant to be a part of the family.