Fucing His Father

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

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Fucking His Father

"You need this so bad, don't you?"

The lion, Simon, shuddered bodily, thrusting his cock into the older fur's mouth, his mane all a mess. But the problem was, if it could even be considered a problem, that the fur on his knees before the young, studly lion, was pretty much a copy of him, yet older. For he was Simon's father and rippling with muscle, even in his more advanced years, a few streaks of grey cutting through his thick, heavy mane.

They knew what they were doing wasn't 'right' but there were many ways to go about that and their lust was just one of them. It was not the first time Simon had fucked his father but it was the first time in his father's bedroom, a single dad who had done so much for him in his younger years. A divorce had brought them closer together and, well, while Simon was gay, Sam was bisexual and that had played into kinky lusts when one had found the other (they'd been so out of it that night it was difficult to remember) watching porn one night, the glow of the screen reflecting off a muzzle that could have been either one of theirs. There was no kissing, no romance, just carnal lust as Sam dropped to his knees before his son, swaying lustfully, drunkenly, wanting it all as that hard length of lion-mat was fed desperately into his maw.

And, so, things had progressed from there.

His father, Sam, moaned around Simon's length and the younger of the two lions groaned in the back of his throat, hips working. Oh, he needed it too, so very badly, but he didn't want to let his submissive father onto that, revelling in the control, power thrumming through him with each and every pump of his heart, forcing blood around his body. Simon snarled, lips peeling darkly back from his teeth, but he could barely think with the blood roaring through him against his eardrums, snapping and growling and biting as pleasure lanced through his body. It was too much, better than anyone else, truly, sucking his dick, but there was still more he wanted, furry nuts churning with the need to spill his load one way or another.

His eyes narrowed, tongue lashing out against his muzzle.

"Get over."

He didn't need to say more for his submissive father scrambled to obey, the two of them as naked as the day they were born, manes shivering with restrained lust. For there was only one way in which a heated liaison between hem could end and that was with Sam bent over the bed, tail lifted for his son, a fat length of lion-cock pressed up to his anal ring and the memory o f those light barbs layering the length pricking on his tongue.

Sam caught his breath. He could take them. He always had before.

But it was the push in that was the easy part, Sam clawing at the bed that he was bent over and yowling like a lioness in heat as his anal passage was plundered, unforgiving in the strength of his son's strokes spreading him open. When Simon drew back to thrust again, however, those barbs caught and dug in, raking through him, trying to stimulate the wrong lion to ovulation while Sam panted harshly, breathing through a gaping mouth and still not getting enough air into his lungs.

Simon laughed, shaking his head cruelly, languishing in the moment, drawing it all out for his pleasure.

"I thought you'd get used to taking my cock, dad..."

He had and he hadn't but that wasn't a question that actually needed answering, yowling and snarling and rasping out breath after breath as Simon's claws dug into his hips, biting deep His son did not need permission to fuck him, hammering in, slamming his cock right up where it belonged. His anal ring was forced to stretch around it, though it was there that the barbs pricked the most, softening his own cock but not making it so, in fact, that he could not climax. Strings of milky pre-cum that were like part of an orgasm or not flowed from his dangling shaft, grinding into the bed as Simon leveraged his weight over him, but it was not for Sam's pleasure that they were fucking but the dominant stud of a son howling over him as he pounded his tight hole for all he was worth.

Simon's jaws parted, baring his fangs, eyes wide and wild, mane a mess. Pleasure rushed over him, the little lubrication that his dad's tongue and mouth had given his cock having to be enough, for he was hardly in any position to slow the pace them. With a bucking, twitching, gyrating body under his, it was all he could do not to spill his load immediately, hissing and rolling his head from one shoulder to the other, tail lashing, everything striving to release tension that, tenaciously, kept building and building.

Simon should have known that there was no holding back as his nuts swung up to his father's arse, bumping lightly, the force of his pounding thrusts more than enough for both of them. He had to bear through his father's tail hole clenching down, even making it hard to keep thrusting for a moment, but the lick of ecstasy curling up heatedly through his body could not be denied, thrusts speeding up, slamming in with every ounce of strength and muscle his young body, in the prime of his life, could boast.

The moment dragged out, his father twisting in faux-climax, body milked, his prostate sore and yet whole body begging for more. Simon roared, covering his father's body with his, slamming in hard and fast, not caring for his father's comfort at all in the moment of orgasm, rope after rope of thick, virile lion-cum flooding that tight hole. It would not stay tight for long with the pounding length of his cock to do the work for him, straining that unyielding hole open more and more, desire coursing through. And every last drop of cum that his trembling, sweating body had to offer would come to a heated edge in that hole, drooling out as his father moaned, submitting with his head hanging, lowered softly.

They both knew that Sam's orgasm did not matter. It was by the by for them and that was the way it was supposed to be, Simon heaving for breath as he leaned over him, raking his claws down his father's back just to hear him moan. They may have been father and son but one thing, after all that, was certain.

It would not be the last time father and son enjoyed each other that night.