Date: Fri, 3 Mar 2017 13:09:38 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Callahan Clan The Callahan Clan Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) FOR ADULTS ONLY. The following contains depictions of sexual acts between men, including men who are related. If this is inappropriate for your age or offends you, go no further. The story is fiction. In real life, act responsibly. This story is my first venture into male impregnation (mpreg) fantasy. I have at least two more planned along these lines. Thanks to a4f101 for the encouragement and ideas. Please consider making a donation to the Nifty Archive to support all the great work they do. The Callahan Clan by Bill Drake [m/m, inc, mpreg] (Set in the not-too-distant future.....) "Is that your boy? Killer Callahan?" I didn't really know the man next to me but I immediately pegged him to be another football dad. Probably a few years older than my 37, but otherwise we looked similar. Corporate looking suburban dads like several dozen others at this suburban high school football field on a Friday night. "Yeah, that's my boy," I said proudly, my chest poked out a little, proud of my son's achievements on the field and even proud of his new nickname. Brendan had just made an incredible play, a running drive where he'd gotten the hand off from the quarterback and instead of just powering a couple of yards, he blew right through the D-line and made it 45 yards before finally getting tackled. His third time doing it this half alone, and it was sure to put the Chiefs in scoring position. They called the same play again, and unbelievably it worked once more, Brendan's power and agility worming his 215 pound 16 year old body through the crush till he was home free and cruising easily to the Chiefs' fifth touchdown. "I hear he's Mike Callahan's brother," I heard from a few men down from me. "Yeah. Football must run in the family." "Shit, he's only a sophomore, too. Just imagine next year's season." I smiled to myself and wondered how these guys would react if I told them. Told them that yes football ran through the family. It wasn't my genes responsible, at least not mostly. Both Brendan and Mike took after their dads, different dads but each a pro player. It had all started when I was Brendan's age. Got a good fake ID and relied on my big frame and my large-for-16 size and the stubble that was coming in years before my classmates. I'd saved my summer money, too. The womb-transplant procedure was experimental then, but I knew I wanted it. Wanted to be able to bear children. I knew I was gay, and had done enough experimenting around to know I was a big-time bottom, and I knew this is what I wanted. My Dad didn't quite see it that way and we had a nuclear meltdown of an argument when I came home from the clinic, still very much in outpatient recovery. Through the tears and the yelling, I stood my ground and told him I may be 16 but I was a man now and knew what I wanted and he could try to stop me but he wasn't gonna. That seemed to take the fight out of him. He slumped and sighed and shook his head. "Goddamnit, Steve," he said more in resignation than in argument. "Just be careful, son." I was, sort of. The thing was, in my mind, I imagined finding Mr. Right and getting into a relationship and having 2, maybe 3, kids. Only here I was in a suburban high school without a clue of how I was going to find a date much less a suitable father for my children. Moving into the city after graduation didn't help, either. It was awesome to have gay bars to go to, and guys to meet online, but I found myself too guarded. Like guys would think I was fucked up for having undergone the procedure or too nervous to date me, thinking I was clingy. Or guys who didn't want to be a father. Well, a horny 18 year old can hold out only so long, and it all came to a head one night when I used my fake ID to accompany my friends to Champions, a popular sports bar downtown. Apparently it was where players from the local NFL team liked to come, because I found myself chatting a friendly chat with some guy at the bar as we waited for our drinks. I didn't get a gay vibe at first, but there seemed to be some reason he seemed to be talking to me, more than small talk. My phone buzzed with a text from my buddy Reggie. "You know who you're talking to? Adam Marshall." Marshall was the star QB of the city's team. I thought he'd looked familiar. I pounded back a taunting reply. "Yeah. He's a cool guy." Adam was tall, about 6'5" and real muscular but not as giant as some of the other guys from the team he was out with. He had a three-day scruff going but otherwise had the All-American boy-next-door look. It was hard not to stare at him. "You're not one of those gays who trawls bars looking to give pro athletes head, are you?" The suddenness of the question stung a little and I had no patience for what I thought was an anti-gay putdown. I didn't care who this fucker was. "I'm not trolling or whatever the fuck you call it and yes, I am gay. Got a problem?" I was bracing for a punch from this dude, but honestly I didn't care. Instead, he shushed me and held up his hands. "Easy buddy, that's not what I'm getting at. See, I, um, well, my manager told me to lay off chicks for a while, particularly at a place like this." I raised my eyebrows. "Most of them blab about bagging the star quarterback and the rest of them press assault charges." As he explained gay guys were more focused on the sex. It was the best way to get off. I smiled, almost laughing, which made Adam smile, too. We hit it off pretty well after that. That night, I gave Adam Marshall a nice, long blow job, which had him texting me a week later, asking for a repeat. We took our time the next Saturday evening, but the star quarterback took my cherry. Fucked me like I'd dreamed about getting fucked for several years. We went at it three times that night. And wouldn't you know, first time fucked after my procedure and I get knocked up. Yep, Adam Marshall was Mike's father, though the athlete never knew or found out. He was long gone, traded to Buffalo by the time I gave birth. But I couldn't care less, in addition to a few weeks of unbelievable sex, but he'd given me the most wonderful baby boy. After Mike was born, I devoted myself to work and fatherhood and trying to raise a young child right. When Mike was 2 and a half, I decided he needed a younger brother or sister. There was no way I could find the time to date or deal with a long courtship. Work and parenting was taking it out of me. I had another idea. I got my folks to babysit Mike one weekend. They'd calmed down a LOT since they realized they were getting such an amazing grandson. They loved looking after the little guy and I could tell they were going to be the sort of grandparents to spoil him rotten. Free for the weekend, I went back to the scene of the crime. Champions. First night I didn't have any luck, but the second night I made contact with a large beefy man, blond with a bit of a gut that was dwarfed by his frame and muscle mass. I sidled up to him at the bar. "I'm Brendan," he said, squeezing my hand in his large mitt. It almost hurt, but his power was a real turn on, too. We made chit chat over a couple of beer, then Brendan said. "I got a condo a couple blocks away. Wanna come over?" I loved the no-nonsense approach and nodded. Back at his place, we made out, impetuously, before Brendan knocked me back on the couch and started stripping off my clothes. The guy was one impatient fuck and after a rushed lube job I was getting stuffed with a big fat cock. It made it hotter to know that his unprotected cock was spurting his fertile seed into me, knowing I was at the right moment to conceive. Yeah, it was gonna happen all right, given the amount of spunk this dude shot in me. Particularly when he bent me over for seconds. It was afterward, after our second pairing, that we talked more and he told me he played on the local pro-football team. Running back. I stayed over and the next morning we fucked again. Brendan asked when he could see me next. I came clean and told him I had a kid at home, so I wasn't sure when or if I could hook up again. "You married?" he asked surprised. "No, Mike's my son. Had him with another dude, I said." I explained to him the womb procedure. Rather than being freaked out, the running back seemed intrigued. "That's cool," he said. "You got a little guy at home, huh? If I didn't have my career, I'd consider that. Only, I don't like getting fucked. Tried it once, definitely not for me!" he laughed. I patted my stomach. "Well, I hope you're not mad, buddy, but there's a good chance you put another one in me last night. Or this morning." His eyes lit up. "Yeah? That'd be awesome." His arms wrapped around me in a friendly hug. In a lot of ways he was the opposite of Adam, Mike's father. His first thought wasn't on how things would affect his career. "If you get pregnant, let me know, bud." I did. A month later, I was sure and told him. We kept in touch and after football season wound down, Brendan was over at my place as I showed off the big swollen belly. He proudly rubbed it, amazed at the life he'd created inside me. "You know the sex?" he asked. I nodded. "A boy." That made the big lug smile big. "I don't know if you've picked out a name, but man I'd be honored if you named him after me." His lips met mine and I kissed him back, sealing the deal. For all the closeness and bond we had, it never developed into a relationship. It was really about sex and breeding and friendship. In that order. I kept the man in the loop, gave him updates on Little Brendan's growth and milestones. And after Big Brendan moved away, we got a Christmas card from him every year with a big check for a present. But that was it. Part of me felt lonely raising the boys without a partner, but they more than compensated for the emotional hole in my life. They were everything you could want out of children. To see them now, as they grew into amazing athletes, just like their daddies, well, that was just a big bonus. * Little Brendan, as I still thought of him, won MVP for the game. I went up to the sidelines to congratulate him after the game. He walked up to me at the chain link fence, helmet in his hand and beaming and high on endorphins. It was funny how he was so much like his brother in personality but so different in physical presence. Even at 16 he was big, real big, a powerhouse of muscle and frame and bulk. "Congratulations, son," I said. He showed off a pearly white smile. "Thanks, Dad. I gotta go in for Coach's speech. See you back home?" "Yep. I'll be there." I told Brendan he could go out to a party with his friends, but I wasn't home thirty minutes before I heard the key in the door. Surprisingly enough, Brendan looked even bigger in his casual clothes than in his football pads. It gave his teenjock body nowhere to hide. I probably needed to buy him new clothes. His brother's hand-me-down T-shirt was riding up his belly. "Did I do awesome or what?" he asked, still pumped from the game. "Incredible" I said. We hugged and I felt his strong arms hold tight. The boy had some real strength on him. I gave a quick pat and started to let go, but Brendan clung to me, holding us tight together. It was only then I felt the power of his young masculine presence in my arms, his clean male scent, his bulk, the hardness of his chest and arm muscle. The movement of his hands on my back as he muttered. "Thanks for being there dad. Thanks for being there every step of the way." He pulled back and pressed his mouth to mine and it was electric. I knew it was wrong, but I was in that time of my cycle. The hormonal surge as my body wanted instinctively to mate and mate bad. I kissed him back, my own son and we moaned as our tongues battle. "Fuck yeah," he groaned, as he started backing me down the hallway. "I've been thinking about this. I wanna do it in your bed, Dad." Whoa, this was moving all too fast, but it also felt right, his hands on me, his powerful bulk against mine, his teen erection hard as nails pressing against my crotch. My boy wanted this all right, and his hunger fed me. I let him walk me to my bedroom. I practically collapsed back on my mattress and with a grunt Brendan pounced on me. Killer Callahan, indeed. He used his arms to keep the landing from being a solid blow, but I felt instantly overpowered by his body. I'm not a tiny guy and with my age I had some years' muscle development on my boy, but he had the superior genetics. His paws were on my body know, clawing at me, massaging my muscle, pulling up my polo shirt. "You gonna give it up, Dad?" he moaned. "Gonna let Killer Callahan fuck you?" Jeez, it was like he was his father incarnate. I never talked much about Brendan Bonds, but both my boys knew who their other father was. At this moment, I felt like Little Brendan must have some special knowledge. Knowledge of how his dad ravaged me 16 years ago in that downtown condo, fucked me full. Cause the son was now copying everyone one of his dad's moves. Grinding his crotch against mine, stripping me off. Kissing up to that secret spot behind my ear. I was really regretting that I was at my special time. I was putty in my boy's talented ballplaying hands. He lifted my legs and with a powerful ass clench he started to push in. I pushed him away. "Fuck! Lube!" "Oh yeah," he moaned as he reached over to my nightstand to see if any was there. It was in the other one, so I fetched it and handed him the bottle. "Go easy, son. Your dad's out of practice." "Aye aye, sir," he said with a lusty grin and started slicking his prick up. Damn, Brendan's hung with a nice fat tool, just like his daddy. Bigger than me by a good inch and a half and unlike me he had his foreskin. Even erect, that skin bunched up at the end around his bloated dick head. Now Brendan took his time. Pushed in and let me take him slowly. I knew it was wrong, on so many levels, when my son pressured more of his dick in me, my ass fluttered and opened up and suddenly all of my 16 year old boy was buried balls deep inside me. "Dad, you're so fucking tight," he growled. I'd have to remind him about his language but at the moment a lecture didn't seem appropriate. Particularly when he pulled out and fucked back in. It felt even more marvelous, and the lube was creating just the right amount of tension. Cock against assring, against my inner ass walls. Brendan fucked, hard but not rushed, with steady inward thrusts. He looked down on me, his eyes a look of pure sexual focus as he savored his time topping me. "I can't believe I'm fucking you Dad. After all this time thinking about it." "God," I moaned, taking in the size of his penis and how amazing it felt inside me. It had been a while since I'd had sex. Too fucking long, in fact. "You still able to get pregnant?" he asked me, his face coming in closer. I wanted to kiss him so bad. I nodded. "Yeah, still fertile. You should pull out, son." He shook his head no. "I don't wanna, Dad. I want to impregnate you." If anything he fucked harder now. "I want you to carry my baby." "Oh fuck," I growled. This was SO wrong but I wanted it too. Maybe it was the hormones talking. "You want it, too." It was half question, half statement as Brendan started reading my expression. "Want me to knock you up." "Yeah. If that's what you want son. You won the game, you deserve what you want. Give Daddy your baby seed." That made him growl and really start to pound me. "Aw Dad," he huffed, now working up a sweat for the second time tonight. "We're gonna fucking do it aren't we?" Unable to believe it. "We're gonna make a baby. Our baby." With that he heaved his body and let out a cry. His body shook and my inner womb got flooded with my son's sperm. His body convulsed for about two minutes and I was starting to wonder and to worry just how much semen my football star of a son was pumping into me. I was already pitched at a sexual heat and just the thought he was breeding with me got me there. As his abs brushed against my dad cock I spurted out hard and heavy between us, communicating the love and desire I felt at that moment. Brendan had recovered now and showered me with kisses as I came to and rubbing my arms and shoulder lovingly with his big paw of a hand. "That was awesome, Dad," he said. "The best." He slowly extracted himself and padded off to the master bathroom. I heard the sink run as he washed himself clean and came back with a washcloth. "Here," he said. I couldn't move I felt so fucked out, but I wiped the lube and excess semen off. "You're not going to douche out or anything, are you?" He asked crawling back in bed with me. "I'm serious what I said before. I want my seed in you, Dad." I shook my head. "I'm crazy for allowing that to happen." Brendan wrapped his arms around me. "Why? Some things feel right." His hands lazily stroked my chest and torso, not exactly sexual but sensual. "I want to be a dad. So bad. I can't wait to have 5, 6, 7 kids. A whole litter. Knowing you're able to bear, knowing that you bore us, well it's been tough to be in this house and not fantasize about doing it with you, Dad." I started to object but his mouth met mine, and he gave me a kiss that was more persuasive than words. My son had major game, I'll admit. I expected him to go back to his room at some point but instead he slept in my bed that night, the first of every night from then on. ** Brendan was on cloud nine after that... the next morning when he made me breakfast ("we gotta feed for two now," he said with a charming earnestness)... and the rest of the weekend when we mated so fervently and so frequently that I had the feeling Brendan was trying to make sure I was really knocked up. I'd gone through a long dry spell, without my occasional casual hookups even, so I was really hungry for it, too. Brendan pushed me to the edge of my sexual endurance and beyond, but it felt great to have a man in my bed even if was my youngest son. When Sunday came around, Brendan seemed disappointed when I begged off taking his cock again. My ass was just too sore and worn out. When I suggested maybe giving him a blowjob instead, he got a huge horny grin and knelt up in the bed, grabbing my head and practically spearing his cock into my mouth and throat. Fuck, I'd have to sit the boy down and have a discussion about sexual consent and taking it easy. But a part of me loved his, love being a real bottom, taking the rough face fuck my football player son was dishing out. Thankfully it took little time at all for Brendan to reach his orgasm. If anything his grunts of release were louder as he unloaded in my mouth than when he took my ass. As he pulled out and kiss me, he gave me a big thanks. "I'm gonna wanna do that a lot, Dad," he said, rubbing my body with his big hands. I met him for a quick kiss. "You bet. Only... maybe let your dad do the work next time. It's even better that way, I promise." "Yeah?" It hadn't even occurred to the kid, he was so horny to get blown. So that set up a pattern. Me blowing Brendan, usually twice a day, on the weekdays, and on the weekends us taking our time for some deep breed-bond fucking. It was especially intense after my pregnancy test came back positive. I had to convince him the baby was just a tiny embryo now and Brendan wasn't going to hurt it through sex. But once I did he was pounding me hard, I swear he'd put on extra muscle over the last month, he just had so much fierce power in his hips and glutes, the way he drove that fat son cock into me. We had a nice long conversation. About our plans raising a kid together. How we couldn't tell anyone, no matter how much we wanted to. I'd thinking of something to tell his brother. I was worried how Mike would take it but when he came home for Christmas I took him aside. "It look like you're going to have another brother," I said. He gave me a big hug. "Awesome, Dad. You dog, at your age too... I wasn't sure you were even getting any." "I'm only 38," I replied. "I guess I wanted another one before my biological clock ran out." "Can't wait," Mike said. "Will be cool to have another little bro around." The hardest part of those two weeks was sex withdrawal. I could tell Brendan was about to go crazy, and he walked around with a constant boner, leaking in his jeans crotch, and the minute Mike had left on his long drive to Auburn, my youngest was pouncing on me. It only got better as I went into my second trimester. Starting to show, it made Brendan hornier if possible. He openly caressed my belly as he fucked me, and sometimes he'd get off just licking my stomach as he jacked his heavy teen cock. Me, I loved seeing how Brendan was so obviously proud of his impending fatherhood. He got serious in school, took advantage of tutoring and studied his ass off. When I remarked on the change he told me straight up, "I got responsibilities now. Gotta be a good father." He still hung out with his friends but spent more time with me in the evenings or on the weekends. Yeah, I was giving him orgasm after orgasm, but it feel like a helluva lot more than that. When Mike came home the next summer, I was pretty round and showing real big. My oldest son was a big help, doing the grocery shopping and cleaning around the house. Both my boys were awesome. I should have expected it but somehow didn't. On the third night Mike was home we were talking. Brendan had gone out with his buddies so it was just us. "I don't know why you didn't tell me, Dad. I think it's great." my son said out of the blue. I looked at him like a deer in the headlines, afraid he was saying what he was saying. "What do you mean?" I asked, nervous, cautious. "You carrying Bren's kid. It's beautiful, man." He was looking me up and down, not sexual, but just appreciative of my large pregnant form. I was relieved that someone else knew. That I didn't have to lie to my oldest son anymore. "How did you know?" Mike laughed. "You kidding? The way you two are around each other. Bren can't stop looking at you or you at him. Geez, I hope you guys aren't stopping fooling around just because I'm here." I blushed. This was not the conversation I was expecting. Nor his next sentence. "Then again," he added slyly, "I may get a little jealous of my little bro." The way he looked at me - smoldering eyes, that flirty jock grin, those dimples - I couldn't help it. I leaned in. Felt Mike's soft lips against mine as he kissed me. Different than Brendan's take-charge impetuousness. No, Mike was real smooth, a charmer. I'm sure he had countless experience, and I melted into his embrace just thinking about that. Yeah, my oldest boy fucked me that night. Whereas Brendan had a fat cock, Mike was hung real long, just like his daddy. Felt amazing punching deep, but the sensation didn't compare with the head fuck that I was now making it with both my boys. The dadfucking thing must have turned Mike on, too, cause he lost his smooth measured approach at some point and just went to town on my ass. We had barely cleaned up Brendan got home. Mike gave him a big bro hug. "I'm so happy for you and Dad, bro," he said. "No more secrets now, OK." ** Mike had to go back to football camp before the delivery, but he was on speaker phone as Brendan drove us to the hospital. Dr. Peters gave a suspicious glance as Brendan was by my side as I got wheeled into the operating room, my son's big hand squeezing mine lovingly and his mouth placing a quick peck on me before he had to let go at last. I felt uneasy being that open with our affection, but fuck it, I thought. I loved my son and the father of my child. The C-section was routine and the baby was a large healthy boy. By now I'd found out that men who had the womb implant procedure had a 98 percent chance of fathering boys. Brendan couldn't be happier or prouder as he held his son, our son, in his big teen arms. "What do you think of Cooper?" he asked. "Cooper Michael Callahan." "It's perfect," I said and this time he leaned down and kissed me for real. I took both paid and unpaid paternity leave and was able to look after Cooper as Brendan started back at school. He was having an even better year at football and already the scouts were sniffing around at the games. His body was bulking out even more, and his coach sent him to a local university to work with their strength training coach. Brendan was gonna be one big guy, all right. He'd probably out muscle and outbulk his daddy. At home we settled into a nice domestic life. My son would do his homework while I nursed Cooper. My ability to produce milk fascinated Brendan and he finally asked if he could give it a try. Sure, I said, lifting up my free pec for him. My pecs sagged down with the extra childbearing weight and the milk. I wasn't happy about my new look but Brendan seemed very excited that his dad had tits he could play with and now suckle. And suck he did. Brendan went wild nursing at my tit, drinking my milk. I finally had to pull him off. "Save some for Coop, son," I said. "There'll be more for you later." So we worked milk and tit play into our bedroom games. And when Mike came home from Thanksgiving, Brendan must have told him about our activity (no secrets now, I suppose), cause he started pestering me to try it that first night. So that Thanksgiving evening I lay back on my king size bed, really it was Brendan's and my bed, now, since we'd been sharing it for over a year now. And Mike was nursing my left tit, Brendan my right. It was the first time we'd been in bed together, like this, but it felt right. I enjoyed feeling the pump of the liquid slowly relieving the discomfort in my producing bosom. "Pretty awesome, huh?" Brendan asked. Mike leaned up, traces of my milk on his lips. "Fuck yeah." Then he leaned over and kissed Brendan. This was all new, but it was horny connecting in a threeway like this. My boys took turns fucking me while they made out with one another, sharing their brotherly love. There was a subtle competition between my sons, but a lot of caring too. ** I wasn't ready for another baby yet, so I made sure I had a diaphragm ready pretty much at all times. I didn't tell Brendan, which made me feel a little bad - I mean, my second-born really wanted to have lots of kids - but I knew he needed to focus on school and his developing football career. I knew he had a good shot at going pro. Like his brother. Like his father. Brendan's hard work paid off and he got a football scholarship at Georgia. It was closer to our suburban Atlanta home than Auburn and coming home for quick visits to see Coop would be easy for him. We celebrated with a champagne toast and a babysitter so we could go out for a nice steak dinner and spend a night fucking in a hotel room. My boy had always been precocious but now he was a real man. 18, huge muscular football jock dude, deep resonant voice. Getting fucked by him blew my mind more and more. Brendan had a great freshman year at college, and was put on the varsity roster right away. But Mike's season was just spectacular. Bowl-bound, MVP, Heisman contention, the whole works. When winter came around, we knew he'd do well in the draft and I was thrilled when Mike invited me to accompany him to New York for that weekend. I only wish his brother could have joined too, but he said he'd look after Coop. Mike got picked in the second round, for the Chargers, and we celebrated back in that Times Square hotel room. Mike liked to rim, more than Brendan even, and he ate me out for what felt like an hour, til he started exploring my hole with his fingers. True to his quarterback genes, his fingers were real long and felt amazing prodding into me, poking, and exploring my insides. I lifted my legs and urged him to finger fuck me. He finally shoved his digits in, real deep and held them there as his finger tips squirmed around. "Got it," he said and extracted them. In between his fingers he held my diaphragm. "Don't need this," he said, tossing it on the floor. "My signing bonus is enough to support our kid, maybe two," he said as he raised up and started sinking his cock into me. It went in deep. I couldn't believe that my oldest son was going to make me pregnant, but the thought went straight to my cock. I was rigid and leaking as Mike fucked me with slow, steady loving strokes. "I want you to name this one, Mike, Jr," he huffed as he got nearer to coming. And there, just like with his brother three years earlier, I knew I was going to bear Mike's son. The knowledge his was shooting his fertile seed in me was enough to make me orgasm all over my hairy bod. Mike actually had a busy weekend, with press engagements and meetings with his new team's management. But he managed to fuck me a couple more times, making sure he'd gotten the job done. He didn't have to bother, I could have told him the first time took. My body had a way of knowing. When I got home, I broke the news to Brendan. "You're gonna have another brother," I said. "And nephew." ** I was five months along and starting to show, when I ran into Dr. Peters at the supermarket. "Steve Callahan," he said. I was impressed he remembered my name. "Hello Doctor," I said. "You can call me Greg," he said. Then nodding down at my belly. "Looks like you're pregnant again?" "Yeah. About five months along." "How's your other one? About two years old now?" "Three and half," I said. "At the age where he's starting to get into all sorts of trouble," I laughed. "Well, I read all sorts of great things about his dad." I stood in scared shock. "His dad?" Peters looked at me with an intent gaze, knowing and purposive. "Yeah. First stringer at UGA. Pretty amazing ability. We're all rooting for him." "Oh," I gulped. "I just put two and two together. Don't worry, Steve, I got a reason for bringing it up." "Yeah?" He lowered his voice. "You able to swing by my house on your way home? We can talk more in private." "Sure," I answered nervously. But I figured if Peters was gonna make trouble for me and Bren he could have done it by now. I wasn't sure what I expected at Peters house but the last thing was sitting in the living room as his son walked in wearing just a jock strap. He was in high school still, and while he didn't have the large musculature my sons did at his age, he was real cute with a taut, trim body, completely smooth from the belly button up. "Hi Dad," he said. "Oh, hello sir," he stopped, embarrassed and surprised. "Come on in, Zach, I want you to meet Steve. He and his boy have a similar situation that we do." Zach's eyes lit up. "Really?," he said as walked forward to shake my hand. "Zach, sir, nice to meet you." "Nice to meet you, Zach," I replied, smiling back and absorbed a little in his cute face. "I don't know the details yet," Dr. Peters, "and he doesn't know the details about us yet. That's why I wanted to invite him over for a little chat." So they talked. Turns out Zach wanted to have the womb procedure, to carry his father's children. "I could pull some strings, get it done for him," the doctor said, "but I'm worried he's too young." "I had mine done when I was 16," I admitted. Zach smiled. Dr. Peters smiled bigger. "Wow. Really?" "Yeah. No problems whatsoever. I was 18 before I got pregnant, though." "Brendan?" "No, my oldest son. Mike. Brendan came three years later." "See, Dad," Zach said, his enthusiasm infectious. I couldn't wait to tell Brendan and Mike about these guys. We'd spent so long thinking we were the only ones, the only father-son team. "Um, I don't want to say anything out of line, but if you guys want to come over one night, meet Brendan, and maybe get better acquainted?" "I'd like that," Dr. Peters said, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I bet Zach would, too." He looked over at his son. "Yes, sir." *** The biggest surprise that year was hearing again from Brendan's father. He'd now long retired from the league and was now partnered with his former coach. Turns out they were going to be in Atlanta and wondered if we wanted to meet up. "I'd love to see Little Brendan," Big Brendan said. My son drove down from Athens that night and we waited anxiously. He had never seen his father in person and was nervous. There were tears and a bear hug when Big Brendan walked through the door. He was older and burlier but looked almost the same as 19 years ago. I gave him a hug too. "Great to see you guys," the man said. It was then that I noticed the man behind him. Not as big but just as tall. Definitely his ex-coach, the man looked every bit the part. Ex-marine look, weathered tan face, gray hair shaved high and tight. He was in his 50s but looked very muscular and in-shape. The one incongruous part was the big round pregnant belly sticking from his mid-section. "John Wilson. Nice to meet you," he said shooking my hand, "Brendan has talked so much about you, said how awesome a dad you are." "You're expecting," I noticed. "When's the due date?" "Next month," he beamed proudly. "Our first one." Big Brendan's arms circled around his man, holding the baby belly. "Took me twenty years to realize the man I loved was right under my nose the whole time." Coach Wilson looked down at my stomach, also protruding. "How far are you along?" "Six months. This will be my fourth." "Who's the dad? Another football player?" I blushed, not able to say who the father was. But I answered truthfully. "Yeah, he is." "Keeping it discreet, huh?" Big Brendan said. "That's cool." I introduced them to Cooper, who was playing with blocks in his room. Later as my son and I were in the kitchen, he whispered to me, "You gonna tell him, Dad? Tell him that Coop's ours?" "You think we should?" I was worried to. "I have a gut feeling we can, dad." So Brendan spilled the beans. I expected any number of hostile reactions but Big Brendan just grinned and John let out a "that's so hot." His partner explained. "Coach and I like to play 'dad' and 'son'" "Never thought I'd meet a real life pair," he added. "And this one's his too? Fuck!" "Nah," I winked, "that's my other son's. Mike's." "Christ," Coach swore. Then turning to my son. "You think your other dad is hot?" Brendan was getting his now familiar cocky horny grin. "Definitely, sir." "Fuck!" I muttered. It was my turn to swear as I realized what was happening. I let the three guys get a head start while I put Coop to bed. When I got to my bedroom I saw the two Brendans kissing and making out while Coach watched and stroked his cock. "Pretty hot, huh?" he asked as he met me in a kiss. The highlight of the evening was me and Coach Wilson both lying back, legs up, while our Brendans took turns, switching places and fucking us side by side. It was awesome to see that Wilson was a real horndog of a bottom, it made me glad for Big Brendan that he'd found such an awesome man. And seeing his big pregnant belly, covered in silvery fur, bounce a little while getting fucked made me wonder how old one could be and still have kids. I had assumed I'd be barren in a year or so, but maybe since John got his implant later in life, it was different. The next morning when they left, we were all pretty fucked out. The goodbye kiss was more of a friendly peck. "Maybe next time we can bring Mike to the party," Big Brendan said. ** I waited until Mike was back home for a few days before setting up an evening with the Peters. The Peters came over and everyone seemed excited, jubilant even. We grilled out, Greg Peters, Mike and I shared a couple of drinks, and when I saw that the doctor was letting his son have a beer, I let down my guard and told Brendan and Mike to help themselves. We were all unexpectedly nervous after dinner, as we had a lull in the conversation. Mike said, "Well I guess we all know what this is leading up to," and pulled me into a kiss. The minute we broke, Brendan was kissing me. I was boning up quick and glad to see Dr. Peters and Zach making out on the sofa opposite us. "Wow," Greg said, his eyes darting between his horned up son and us Callahans. "Yeah, wow," I said. My sons hands were on my shirt, lifting it up and showing off my body. Their football playing hands were on my gut, massaging the swell. "You like seeing our Dad pregnant?" Brendan asked. "Yah," Zach moaned. "This one's mine," Mike said proudly, his legs spread to show off the long erection in his shorts. "You wanna get pregnant like that, Zach?" Greg Peters asked his son, hand caressing his back. "You wanna preg up for daddy?" The kid practically moaned and sealed his mouth onto his fathers. Dr. Peters started fumbling with Zach's shorts, unzipping them, pulling them down. My boys were doing the same to me. If fucking around with my sons was an incredible, head rush of an experience, it was even doubled doing it as Peters long dicked his boy. The kid was a class-A bottom, all right, like I was at his age, it felt like we were kindred spirits. Peters even did me while Mike and Brendan took turns on Zach. They left that evening late in the night, fast friends all around. A couple of weeks later, we met up again, without Mike, over at the Peters house. Brendan and the doctor went off to his bedroom for some one-on-one time, since it turns out Greg wanted to try the bottom role for a night, while Zach and I got better acquainted. "You ever scared?" he asked me. "About the procedure?" "That. Being pregnant. All of it." "There were moments I was. It's a big unknown, pregnancy. But I just knew it was right, knew that's what I wanted." That seemed to satisfy Zach, who thrust his dick against mine. I had a question. "Are you doing this because your dad wants you to?" He shook his head. "I let him think that, but I want it, too. My dad's a real stud, it's all I can think about now, carrying his babies." Our mouths met. There's something about a kiss between two bottoms, it's a communication of brotherhood and camaraderie rather than dominance. "I like kissing you, Mr. Callahan," he said softly. "I like kissing you, too, Zach." We kissed again. "If there's any way I can help, ever, just let me know." A week later, I talked to Greg on the phone. Zach was going through with the procedure. "I'm glad," the doctor said. "This way he can get the procreating out of the way before med school." *** I think the toughest thing for Mike was being away when I gave birth to Mike Jr. But he flew home two days later, just for an overnight, to see his son-brother in person. "How's my little quarterback doing?" he addressed the infant in a baby voice. Knowing his daddy's genes, Mike was probably right the kid would grow into another Callahan football star. Brendan was thrilled not only to have another brother... a nephew this time... but also to resume the milk suckling sessions on his weekday visits home. His star was rising at UGA, and already Sports Illustrated profiled him in a "25 young college players to watch for" spread. He'd insisted going shirtless for the photo spread, his bulky body showing proud in his football pants. I remarked on it when the magazine came out. "I wanted to give you some JO material for when I'm gone," he said with a lighthearted sneer. *** Within a couple of years, Mike was already shopping around for a bigger house. "I think it's time to have another son," he said matter of factly as those talented fingers started digging into me, searching for a diaphragm. Finding none, he plunged in, locking eyes with me, telling me of his need to breed and letting me communicate my acceptance, my submission. In fact, I'd given up wearing protection. I was thinking I wanted another boy while I could still bear. Both Brendan and Mike were fucking me that spring and we didn't know the father of my next pregnancy. But sure enough pretty soon I was ballooning up again, getting big. And both my sons were ecstatic. It made the sex even hotter, the nasty talk we'd get into. The fact that both boys could imagine it their own riled them up, trying to punch their dicks deeper into me, shooting more cum into me. My prostate got more battering that summer than it ever had. The pairings with the Peters were great too. We actually witnessed the moment Dr. Peters conceived inside Zach. Such a beautiful, emotional moment. It was just as great two months later, when both Zach and I were pregnant, getting family-fucked simultaneously. Seeing the look of pride on that 18 year old's face - and the matching lust of the horny, salt-and-pepper haired doctor - was priceless. When my next son was delivered, I had an instinctual feeling it was Mike's. The baby was tall with long arms and legs. I knew his name already. Adam Brendan Callahan, taking both Mike's father's and brother's names. By now, Brendan was entering his senior year, topping 240 pounds and definitely ready for the pros. Georgia didn't do so well that year, and I know Brendan was disappointed to end his college career with a tough loss to LSU, but the drafts came and he made first round. I was thrilled and even more so when his new team was the Falcons. We had a mansion-sized house with a nanny now, plus a private wing when I wanted some alone time with one of my sons (or both), perks of Mike's salary and now Brendan's bonus. It took a lot of worry off my mind. I was 45 now, and knew I'd start going through manopause. I was so satisfied with the two generations of sons I'd had - Mike and Brendan, and now Cooper, Mike Jr., and Adam. They were the apple of my eye and growing up so quickly, all of them. Cooper was already 7, going on 8, already playing ball with the neighborhood kids any chance he could. Brendan and Mike would both practice throwing the ball hours on end with the little guy and he never got tired of it. The opposite, he'd beg for more. "I want to be a football star like my Dad and Uncle Mike," he said. *** When puberty hit with Coop, Brendan and I could already tell he was going to be a big bruiser of a teenager. Brendan sat him down and gave him the birds and the bees talk. Neither of us were prepared though for how much an oversexed lady killer he'd become when he hit his growth spurt and was already making waves as Central High's latest football sensation. When Cooper started talking about the senior cheerleader he had a date with on Saturday night and going on about how "fuckable" she looked, Brendan and I gave each other a silent "uh oh" look and knew it was time for another talk. Brendan said he would. "How'd it go?" I asked as he crawled into bed that night. It was hard not to admire the body that he now sported as a pro athlete, big, bulky, hairy and outright manly, and I was amazed his still had the hots for his middle-aged dad. "Um, well," my son started, his cock firm and pressed up against my hip as Brendan gave me a kiss on the neck. "Some stuff happened." "Stuff?" He leaned back, unsure if he should tell me. "We were talking about sex, being careful with pregnancy, other things you can do, and Coop started asking me about blow jobs." "Yeah?" I asked. "Yeah. He asked if there were any girls who would be able to take care of a dick as big as his. Then he pulled down his shorts." "No," I said. "Yeah, he did. I don't know if I'm proud to say or ashamed but our son is better hung than me. He's a big fucker, actually. I couldn't help myself." "You blew him?" I asked, both horned up and surprised as he told me. He nodded. "For the first load. Then, don't get mad at me Dad but I let him fuck me. Gave up my cherry to him." "You serious?" "Yessir," my big grown up bruiser of a football player son blushed, "now I know how you feel." Our lips connected in a heat and we made out until I realized something. "His load still in you?" He nodded. Scooting down I lifted Brendan's power thighs and examined the hairy asscleft. The hole was wrecked and loose and fresh sperm was everywhere. I started licking. Coop's semen was saltier than his Mike or Bren's. And thicker too, with big white globs oozing out of Bren's newly deflowered pucker. I let the sperm collect, watching intently before spearing my tongue to taste it and lap it up once more. "I wish I could have watched," I moaned before latching my mouth full on to my son's anus and felching him good, tasting my son/grandson's seed. "Oh dad," Brendan moaned. *** I had misgivings about inviting Coop into our bed, but Brendan was excited and insistent. Besides it felt inevitable, I swear our boy got even more natural top ability than his dad or granddad even. Or maybe it was just the thrill and taboo that my grandson was fucking me that gave me the first of multiple orgasms the second his fat uncut teen dick bottomed out in me. And then there was the cocky look of power in Coop's face as he recognized and savored the power he had over my 45-year old body. "God, Granddad," he moaned, thrusting his hips with amazing power. "I can see why Dad loves you." Brendan looked on, his fat erection dripping and sticking out from his hairy gut, a look of pride and happiness on his face. "Our son's right. I love you like crazy, Dad." Those words, combined with the feeling of Coop's fat tool ramming against my prostate, made me nut the second time as Brendan leaned forward and kissed me deep. We had some explaining to do with Mike Jr and Adam, now that Cooper was sleeping in our bedroom. And my grandson was even a louder, more verbal fucker than his daddy. So no way Coop's younger brothers didn't hear what was going on behind our closed bedroom doors. But we approached it as with everything, with honesty but a reminder that not everyone would understand. What we did in the Callahan house was private and had to stay that way. I had assumed I had long stopped being fertile but about a month and a half into our new arrangement I realized something was off with my body. I had a spare pregnancy test, one I thought I'd never have to use. Sure enough, positive. And I knew without a doubt that it was Cooper's. My first grandfather pregnancy. Of course, he's my son, too. I broke the news and both my boys were ecstatic. I wanted to have a serious talk but they dragged me back to our king bed where they took their turns fucking me, getting three loads out of my nuts in the process. Cooper's hands were appreciatively rubbing my mostly flat belly, impatient to see it grow. "Wait until he starts nursing," Brendan said. "His tits get real big." "Yeah?" Cooper said, excited. "Can't wait." If anything, Cooper was more obsessed with my tits and my milk than his father. As my pregnancy went on, he'd come home from school and ask to suck on them. I wasn't producing but he loved licking the nipples and trying to get milk from them. When I finally did spurt, he was beside himself and started coming, right on my leg. I patted his head as he came down from his orgasm, unwilling to relinquish my nipple from his mouth. "Oh Granddad," he moaned, finally breaking contact. It only got worse after the baby came. Coop loved to be at my free nipple, sucking from the other teat. We had an ongoing joke about the milk being responsible for his growth and his success on the field. He was taking after the Brendans in a big way. *** I managed to visit Big Brendan and Coach Wilson. The retired pro player was 50 now, and his coach lover was a silver-haired hunk, even at his age. They'd had three beautiful boys, and even though Wilson could no longer bear, their sex talk still worked in the heat of impregnation. It was hot being back in bed with those two, sharing their love and having Big Brendan excited to have us both at once. "The fathers of my children," he said as Coach and I flanked him and double-team sucked his cock. "Both at once. Awesome." *** Mike's career was winding down now, he was in discussions to join the quarterback coaching staff at Auburn. Brendan injured a ligament and had surgery to fix it. His game wasn't the same afterward and he knew he'd be facing retirement now. I asked if he was disappointed. "You kidding Dad? Getting banged up every week stops being fun after a while. Looking forward to just being me, you know? Unlike Mike, Brendan never ate up the stardom and publicity of being a pro player. He'd say, "It means I can't be as open living here with you, you know Dad?" We were making out one night, just some me-and-Bren time, when he said, "Dad, I got the procedure done." I thought I hadn't heard him right. "What?" "I want to have a son with Cooper. Like you did. I know he wants it, too, I can just tell. He's just too scared I'll turn him down." "Oh my boy," I said clutching his heavy muscular form against mine. "You're gonna make Coop the happiest boy on Earth." "Yeah?" "There's nothing like seeing the expression in your son's face when he finds out he's knocked you up. That part of him is in you." "Fuck, Dad," Brendan moaned as he rolled us over and climbed on top of me. Our fuck was fast, intense, and loving. That night, Killer Callahan put my seventh son inside of me. I was 54 years old. *** Brendan's pregnancy was just a couple of weeks behind mine. As I was when I got knocked up with Mike, you're real fertile after the procedure and the first time often takes. He was 32 and even though pro ball had taken a toll on his body, Brendan was in the prime of his life. We relished our retirement, feeling our bellies grow in unison, as if we were synched in some cosmic way. Cooper was beside himself, having knocked up both of his dads in turn. We actually had to rein in his cocky attitude sometimes, but mostly it was charming to see him so full of himself. Best of all was the sex. "Dads," Cooper would say. "You can't believe how crazy hot is to be sandwiched between two pregnant fathers." We could now easily get Coop off without any penetrative sex, just by rubbing our pregged up bodies against him. As for me and Brendan, we loved flip fucking, getting off on our big pregnant bellies hanging out and bumping as the top thrust into the bottom. The whole experience was getting me to really go for the top role in the first time in my life. I felt like a real patriarch of the family, pushing my seed into my son. Mike got the surprise of his life when he came home to visit. He was really starting to get the hot 30-something coach look, and enjoying letting his belly go a little. Still a fucking hot ex-jock. I started making moves to top him, eliciting a "Dad, what the fuck?" But I was undeterred. I kept rubbing the area under his balls, poking my fingers against his tight hole. Brendan kissed him and urged him to give it up. "Come on, bro, think of everything Dad's done for us. Time to pay him back, don't you think?" He hissed and gritted his teeth as I penetrated his hole but soon was getting into it. "Fuck me, Dad," he said, so loud I was afraid he was going to wake the babies up. Brendan shut him up with his fat cock. Cooper impregnated me once more before he graduated. Number eight. I was entering my second trimester when I noticed Brendan pass on a beer, and knew something was up. "Christ, Coop got you, too?" I asked him in private later that night. "That boy's a nonstop breeding machine." "I've been meaning to tell you dad, only I was ashamed. It's not Cooper's." "Well then who...?" I was pretty sure Brendan hadn't been out seeing anyone, though I suppose I might have missed something. Then it hit me. "Fuck.... Mike Junior." The boy was turning into the spitting image of his father, Brendan's brother. Brendan nodded. "I couldn't help it, Dad. I saw him coming out of the shower and he had a huge donkey dick swaying between his legs. I didn't know it was possible to be that hung. And at his age, no less." It was hard not to look at Mike Jr. differently from then on. And notice the way he was looking at me. I was getting older, and I devoted most of my days to working out and cardio, trying to keep fit. It was an uphill battle and I didn't compare with my pro athlete sons. But maybe Junior liked the idea of a conquest. Of banging his dad/granddad. He started going around the house commando, that huge dick flopping in his shorts. Making offhanded comments about needing a jockstrap with more support. So it wasn't a surprise when one day when it was just Jr. and I around the house he got a sly look on his face and slid down his shorts. That big donkey dick, the one Brendan had described so well, hell the one that had knocked Brendan up with his second son, that dick was exposed and growing harder by the minute. I felt I should lecture him, but instead I silently got up out of my chair and walked over. Knelt in front of him and took my son/grandson's cock into my mouth. Tears streamed down my eyes and I struggled to accommodate the giant dong in my throat. "Maybe you can try it from the other end. Uncle Bren says it's easier that way." So yes, we fucked. Or rather, I fucked myself on it, making sure I was on top, controlling it. It was obscene, but incredible getting stuffed like that. I had a feeling that if my old body would still bear, I'd be having Mike Jr's boy next. ** We had followed the Peters as the doctor raised two strapping boys and Zach went off to med school, did his internship, and finally became a surgeon, like his dad. He was handsome as fuck when he moved back to town, setting up practice and getting all the women to gossip about the new bachelor doctor. He had to get fixed so another pregnancy wouldn't affect his career, but we got a big surprise when we reconnected with the Peters and arranged a meetup for old times sake. There'd be more Callahans to join in this time around, I thought, with glee. When they showed up, Greg Peters was pregnant and holding hands with his two sons-grandsons, Jake and Trey. The two looked so much like the young innocent Zach I remembered when I first met them. The retired doctor saw my big belly and laughed. "Can you believe we can still carry, at our age?" "Tell me about it buddy. Pretty awesome, huh?" "Yeah, especially cause my boys are so impatient. This one's Trey's but Jake has already called dibs on the next one." ** I had corresponded with Big Brendan and learned the sad news that Coach Wilson passed away. "I have my boys to raise, but life's just not the same without Coach." We talked and I floated the idea of having them come move in with us. It was impetuous and I was worried I've been too forward but a couple of weeks later, I get a call from the guy. "I've been thinking about what you said. A lot." A month later the Bonds had moved in with us. I was real glad we had the mansion now, and the staff to help out. It was a full house, and full of testosterone. But it felt right. Particularly when Big Brendan got little Brendan pregnant. It cemented the bond that had been growing between them. I was starting to feel left out. 59, and maybe toward the end of my muscle DILF days. The Brendans had paired up pretty intensely, and Cooper was off now a senior in college, playing for Auburn and having some good bonding with his uncle. Mike Jr. was about to head off to college, himself following in the family football footsteps. I'd miss him and his giant cock, for sure, when he moved out. Just when I was feeling down one night, Junior knocks on my door. "Dad?" He was nude, his freakishly long dick erect and sticking out. Behind him was his little brother, Adam, also nude, also horny, but nervous. "Yeah, son?" I asked sitting up in bed. "I was thinking I'd show Adam here how to top. He's been asking and I thought maybe you'd help me show him?" I peeled off my covers, showing my nude dad-granddad bod. My dick didn't have the spring in its step it once did but the situation had me firming up hard. "Come on in, guys." I scooted down and spread my legs, ready to lift them on command. Turning to Adam, I said. "You're learning from the best, son." Adam wasn't nearly as hung as Mike Jr but, like his brothers was a natural top. You can't tell me it's not genetic, that kind of skill. And shit, would you believe? That night, Adam Callahan fathered his first son. And my ninth.