May 21st, 2010
Clark Allen opened the door to his son’s room and strode in, all
confidence and brawn. Closing the door behind him, he flicked the
door with one gloved finger and let his eyes crawl over the figure of the
boy on the bed in front of him. The man wore a dark blue uniform that
held every curve of his muscular body, unlike the boy on the bed who
appeared naked except for the gleaming white jockstrap that hugged
his round ass. Clark ran a gloved hand over his thick mustache and
close-cropped goatee and took a deep breath.
‘Boy,’ the man started in a gruff voice. He loved using that word
for his son.
‘Is it time’? Peter Allen asked, his voice hitching in his throat.
‘Oh ‘ yes,’ Clark responded, cupping the bulge in his tight uniform
pants and letting his thumb slide over the head of his confined cock.
‘You bet your sweet white ass it’s time.’
Peter languidly rolled onto his side, exposing a well-formed, slightly
muscular torso. Dark brown hair, just like his dad’s, fell onto his
forehead as he stood. Adjusting his jockstrap, Peter caressed the front
and his hard dick. His heart rate increased when his dad took the
first step toward him. He loved seeing his dad in uniform; he thought
of it as just one of the perks of having a cop for a father. That cocky
walk, that seasoned swagger, the way his utility belt rode his hips, and
especially the way his crotch announced to all who saw it that he was
proudly packing quite a baton!
‘You wore what I told you,’ Clark said, sliding his hand over the
tight mound in his son’s middle. ‘Good boy,’ he praised, running his
hand back and forth over the boy.
‘Thank you, sir.’
Clark’s soft lips met Peter’s. His rough hands massaged his son’s
cock, and his body was going wild with both sensations. It always did
when Dad came to his room. Peter welcomed the thick slab of tongue
that slipped between his lips. He sucked on it, lashed it with his own
tongue and encouraged the hungry thing to rape his willing mouth.
Soft sounds came from him, sounds of intense delight and enraged
hormones. Letting his hands wander, they soon found the tight halfmoons
of his father’s ass.
‘Gentle or rough today, son’? Clark asked when the kiss ended and
he brushed the hair from the boy’s face. ‘Your choice this time.’
‘Let’s play bad cop,’ Peter responded with a sly smile.
Quickly, Clark grabbed his son’s left arm by the wrist and brought
it up into the center of the boy’s back and walked him smartly to the
door, pressing his face into it. Holding him there with the weight of
his body, Clark nuzzled his son, rubbing the scruff of his face on the
boy’s smooth jaw and growling low against him. Using his teeth, Clark
removed the glove from his left hand and let it fall. Reaching with his
right hand, he took a small bottle of clear liquid from the top of the
dresser that stood by the door. Peter had put it there on his instructions.
‘You follow directions well, boy,’ Clark praised as he removed his
other glove.
‘Thank you, officer.’
‘You’re more than welcome,’ the man said, running his bare hand
over his son’s back. ‘But I think we’ve had enough talk.’
He slid one hand down over the beautiful curve of Peter’s ass, flipping
open the bottle with his other hand. Gentle fingers slipped into
the dark crevice and found the boy’s pucker. Gently massaging him
there, the brawny man let some of the clear liquid fall onto the dark
hole and Peter made a small sound from the cold of it. With his index
finger, Clark began to work it up inside of the boy, activating the
warming aspect of the stuff. Bracing himself on the door, Peter pushed
back against his father’s hand, anxious for more. He’d waited all day
for this. He’d showered, cleaning his hole extra well, put on the new
jockstrap, and waited for the man whose meaty digit now slid in and
out of him.
Clark slid the nightstick from his belt and ran it up along Peter’s
thigh, up under the boy’s balls. Smiling at Peter’s quickening breath,
the brawny officer stirred his son’s hole deeper with his index finger.
‘Club or cock, Pete’? Clark growled.
‘Cock, sir ” Peter said, almost whispering. ‘Please ‘ cock.’
Clark replaced the nightstick in the silver ring on his belt and worked
the front of his pants open. With a practiced hand, he hauled his own
impressive stick free of the tight, blue fabric and laid it against the
exposed hole where his finger stirred his son to a whimpering frenzy.
Very slowly, he extracted his slippery finger and maneuvered his head
onto the gaping pleasure pipe. Easing himself into his boy, Clark let
Peter dictate the speed and depth. Peter urged his father forward by
pushing back against the prick in his ass. Finally, when he had all of
his father inside him, Peter allowed himself a deep sigh of satisfaction.
Clark held his son against the door with the weight of his muscled
frame and again nuzzled his boy’s face with his own scruffy one.
‘Easy, Pete,’ he said soothingly, his hands caressing the boy’s sides.
‘Don’t forget to breathe. Daddy will take care of that sweet hole good
and proper.’
‘Yes, Daddy. Please take care of my hole,’ Peter said, using his best
‘little boy’ voice, knowing it was what his father liked to hear. ‘Take
care of it good and hard.’
Clark took hold of his neck and held him to the door. His other hand
slid up to his hip and took hold. Peter didn’t resist, but held himself
braced against the door. Inside the tight athletic supporter, the boy
felt his cock throb, jerk, and wet the front of the thing. As his father
began to work his log deeper inside his asshole, Peter clenched his
talented muscle, milking him.
‘You feel that, boy’? Clark nuzzled the boy’s face. ‘You feel Daddy’s
hard cock getting into that hole? That feel good, son’?
‘Yes, Daddy ‘ oh yes!’ Peter moaned back, arching his back and
pushing his butt backward. ‘My jock’s wet, daddy; I’m smearing my
spunk all over the door.’
‘That’s because Daddy’s about to rock that ass, huh, boy’?
Peter moaned his agreement as his father began working himself
back out to the head of his shaft. It was time, Clark thought. It was
time to press this boy’s buttons and to get himself off in the process.
He had the boy by the neck and the hip so he spread his legs to steady
himself. Peter’s hands pressed against the door, fingers splayed, readying
himself for his father’s assault.
The beginning rhythm was slow. Clark let himself take his time,
filling the boy up and emptying him just as slowly. Peter responded
to each thrust with small sounds of encouragement. For a few long
minutes, father primed his son for what would come next.
Almost as if he’d been put on a timer, Clark began to pump himself
into his son at a faster pace. Both hands settled on the boy’s hips and
he shoved his fuckmeat deep into his son. On occasion, he lifted the
boy off the floor with his thrusts. Peter began to moan and whimper
as his father pummeled him from behind, but never asked him to stop.
The boy milked his father. Peter would clench his asshole when his
father pulled back and released when the thing was pushed deep into
him. Peter knew what his father liked by now. He knew as he pushed
his willing hole back to meet the paternal onslaught that it would drive
his father to the brink faster, and anything that made his dad hot made
him hot, too. His dad liked plowing his willing ass, and Peter liked
having his ass filled with hard, thick, cop-dad dick!
Clark slid his left hand under the boy’s arm, letting his fingers dig
into the pit and work around in the damp hair before bringing the
scent to his nose and breathing deep. Inside of his son, Clark’s dick
expanded a bit and Peter winced in excitement.
‘Aw, boy, you smell like a fucking man!’ Clark growled, breathing
in the smell again. ‘Daddy’s dick-boy will be all grown up soon, huh’?
he said, grinding himself into his son’s butt.
Peter smiled and took more of his father’s fuckstick. He forced his
legs wider and reached behind him to grasp his own asscheeks. ‘Yeah
boy, spread that ass,’ his father coaxed as Peter pulled them wider. It
seemed to the boy that the slick cock sliding into him gained another
inch with each thrust. That only stirred the fire rising in his jockstrap.
Peter’s voice was cracked as he began to talk his father into deeper
thrusts.
‘Deeper, Dad ‘ fuck me ‘ plow that hole. Do me deep, Daddy ‘
deeper! Fuck that ass deeper!’
Clark was turned on by hearing his son ask for what was being done
to him. Peter wanted his father’s prick as much as Clark wanted to
give it to him. Knowing this, the bigger man really began to step up
his pace, pulling out enough to leave only the head inside, and then
burying himself to the balls, making Peter moan with acceptance. That
was part of the fun, hearing his son moan and whimper under him.
‘Daddy, I’m close. So fucking close,’ Peter panted, his face still
against the door. ‘Are you close, Daddy? Are you close to giving me
that hot load’?
‘Fuck yes,’ the officer responded, leaning onto his son, never faltering
in his pace.
Peter felt his father’s badge dig into his back, the warmth of his
father’s body against him, and his father’s cock expanding inside his
hot hole. Peter’s prick oozed profusely as it rubbed up and down the
door’s facing. He was close to coating the front of the thing with his
sticky sweetness, but that wasn’t the plan this time. He had to hold
it, regardless of how good it felt. Wildly, Peter thought that the only
way it could have felt better would have been if his dad had chosen
to give him both the club and the cock at the same time. They hadn’t
done that yet.
‘Pete, get ready, boy ” Officer Clark pumped his prick once more
into his boy before shoving it so deep into him that he was sure Peter
could feel it in his throat. He gripped the boy’s wide shoulders as he
roared with his release. ‘Mother ‘ FUCKER!’ he growled, throwing
his head back. ‘FUCK, boy! Daddy’s cumming up that hole, boy!
Daddy’s feeding you that load!’
Peter felt the first geyser scorch his insides. This triggered his own
first jet into the cotton confines of his jock. His father’s next volley again
signaled his own. As his father’s third and slightly less powerful shot
soaked his insides, Peter felt himself filling the cum-full jock with his
last shot, as well. The two of them fell fully against the door, panting,
sighing, sweating and still locked hose to hole.
‘Damn,’ Clark said, easing himself up and back off his boy. ‘Damn it,
boy. You’re the hottest piece of hole I’ve ever dipped my dick into.’
The burly man braced his palm against the door beside his boy’s
head. Gently, he pulled his spent stick from his son’s tight ass, careful
to dislodge himself in a way that wouldn’t hurt Peter. The boy turned
slowly, leaning against the door and looking at the man that had given
him birth. He smiled a satisfied smile and was almost giddy with
pleasure as his father kissed him. It was a tender gesture that turned
carnal as the man’s tongue pushed eagerly into the boy’s. Peter met that
challenge with his own tongue, working it hard against his father’s.
‘I have to go,’ Clark told him, breaking the kiss. ‘Dinner’s in the
oven and I’ll be back around eleven tonight.’
‘Thank you, Dad,’ Peter smiled, his hand cupping the front of his
cum-soaked jockstrap.
‘Don’t you have something for me’? Clark asked his son, taking a
step back and adjusting his shirt.
‘Yes, Daddy.’ Peter smiled a bit wider.
Clark watched his son hook his fingers into the waistband of the
jockstrap. He admired the taut body that bent at the hips and slid
the thing down his slender, hairy legs. His boy was beautiful to the
eye, the hand, and the cock. Clark reminded himself how lucky he
was as he watched Peter step out of the spunk-spewed jock and hand
it over to him.
‘Thank you, son,’ Clark said, pulling his son to him and kissing him
fully and deeply. ‘I’ll see you tonight and we’ll work on my gift for
tomorrow’s shift,’ he said, slipping the wet jock into his pocket and
heading out the door to work.
Written by by Christian
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