Date: Tue, 5 Sep 2023 16:44:22 -0600 From: King Dom Subject: Man Whore Father and Jock Slut Son Man Whore Father and Jock Slut Son By: KD This story features sex between consenting adult males, two of whom happen to be related. It is 100% fictional. Any and all similarities to people dead or alive are purely coincidental. If this is not your kink, or you are not of age in your territory, then read no further. If on the other hand you are a pervert like me then pull it out, stroke it hard and release! If you enjoy the Nifty archive then be sure to donate to keep the cum flying! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Luke -- 19, 5'11" 185lbs Thickly built and sculpted former HS football wide receiver/wrestler. Dad -- 37, 6'1" 235lbs BEEFY furry bearded Latino, rugby build. 7"uc thick My body shook furiously as I tried to catch my breath. My thick forest of dark chest hair matted to my meaty pecs as I sat there soaked in my own load. My eyes frozen on the image paused on the screen. That was him alright. There was no doubt. How could I be wrong? I'd made him for fucks sake. That was my son going full slut mode bent over his bed. I had a million questions. How? When? For how long? Was it as tight as it looked? FUCK. Focus. To be fair this was the last thing I'd expected to come across. I'd come home from the gym riled up beyond fuck after an exceptionally eye candy filled chest workout and I'd decided to treat myself to a nice long popper bate. I was twenty minutes into the trainer vid I'd found and was feeling feral from the combination of weed and amyl. I was working my 7" uncut latin meat, taking in the heady musk of my pit stink, when in the corner of my eye I caught sight of the screen. There was a beast of a man in the frame. Bald. Thick built back. Covered in hair much like me. Covered in sweat much like I was right then. Tight roid ass pounding in and out as he sank his cock into a college jock in front of him. What caught my eye first though was what was on the wall. Hanging proudly was my son's framed football jersey, #3. Right next to his shelves of trophies and medals. I hit pause and just stared at the wall. Before my mind could even process that it had to be my boy beneath the stud my eyes found the evidence. Centered between the corded muscle of his delts and traps was the simple tattoo he'd gotten to celebrate becoming an Eagle Scout shortly before leaving for college. It was my baby, boy bent in half. His hefty, rounded bubble butt sat wide under his narrow waist. I'd seen him in a similar position countless times as we changed in locker rooms and on vacays over the last few years. I often teased him that his time as a wide receiver would have been easier if he wasn't carrying those globes around but he just laughed and said it was worth it for the attention. Now I knew just what kind of attention it brought. The man, and yes, I mean MAN, on screen had to have been close to my own 37 years. Rugged, ripped and clearly owning the cunt in front of him. That's when I noticed I was stroking my cock again. Not that I'd ever stopped playing with it completely. But now I was pumping it. I took a hit from the bong next to me then grabbed the brown bottle and brought it to my nose. Two DEEP hits. I grabbed the apple tv remote and went back to the beginning of my son's time on screen. I hit play. Now that I was aware of what was happening in front of me I became hyper focused. I was listening intently to every sigh, every whimper and every filthy word being spewed between the two of them. "Rape my fucking cunt coach." He didn't shout it but his voice was clear. Firm. He wanted the brutal fuck `Coach' was giving him. "Yeah champ? Ya been missing this rough rut since ya been at school? Miss me gaping ya every damn day?" Everyday? Goddamn. "Fuck sir yes. Fuck Coach, fuck..." The scene changed. FUCK. It was a popper trainer vid after all. Little clips of filth designed to rile a cock up as you edged it. I put the scene back. I must have watched the 22 seconds over and over for half an hour. I edged and huffed the brown Amsterdam bottle in my hands over and over. Not once did I soften. Not once did I think how wrong it was. Not once did I not wish it wasn't me behind the boy I built. Correction the slut I built. Looking at Luke like this it was clear he was made for it. Hell he looked like 90% of the dudes I dipped it in. Strong, built, young jock holes that loved an older hunk taking control. `They're built to be bred' I often joked to my friends about the jocks I took to bed. Fuck. Luke in MY bed? Bent over like that? Plowing his ass as he begged me to rape it? It sent me over the edge. My body shook furiously as I tried to catch my breath. My thick forest of dark chest hair matted to my meaty pecs as I sat there soaked in my own load. I closed my laptop and walked straight into my shower. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- After the shower I'd gone to bed, taken some Zzzquil and put myself down for the night. My phone woke me now though. The morning light just peeking through my blinds told me the pills had done their job. I peeped my bedside clock, not even 7:30. Given I didn't take meetings on Fridays I had nothing that should require my urgent attention. Who was fucking calling? Fuck. On my screen was Luke sweaty and grass stained in his jersey, the same one hanging on his wall. The pic was snapped just after they'd won state and he'd run over to the sidelines to find me. His contact photo. Goddamn it I could not handle this right now. I waited for it to go to voicemail then opened my phone. That's when I noticed the texts and missed calls from the night before. In my rush to get my popperbate on the night before I had forgotten it was the last Thursday of the month. The mandatory day we'd set aside for Luke to call and give me an update about life and school. I read through his joking messages about the ginko not working if I had forgotten about the call. Then through his worried messages once he realized I wasn't answering his calls, a true rarity. I'd worried him, hence his wake-up call just now. Fuck again. I knew I had to call to set his mind at ease. I hit his name in my missed call list and waited for the ringing to start. He picked up before the first ring even finished. "Papa?" He only called me that when he was scared and that hadn't been in years. "Hey Kid. I'm sorry I worried ya last night. I..." I... what? I didn't know what to say. "Is everything okay? Are you okay?" He sounded tired. "Kid I'm fine. I wasn't feeling great after my workout last night and took some nyquil. Shit's stronger than I realized I guess." "Oh. Okay. That's okay. I just was worried when you didn't answer." He legit sounded terrified. I'd fucked up. "Lukey I'm fine I swear. I really didn't mean to scare ya. I just forgot it was Thursday or I'd have text to warn ya." I lied. I could hear him breathe a sigh of relief and then it was like it brought him back to life. "I so told you that ginko wasn't working for shit!" He was laughing now and I could hear the little chuckle he got when was particularly amused with himself. His `Goofy laugh' I called it. "Little shit. Lest we not forget it's YOU my dear boy with a fucked up memory who actually needs it. I take it in moral support." It was true ish. We took basically all the same supplements as it was cheaper to buy in bulk before he moved out. Now I guess I took it out of habit. "You WERE taking it as moral support. Seems like ya may need it for real now pops." The chuckle again. "If this was all you needed to tell me I could have stayed asleep dreaming of..." "...Dreaming of yet another Equinox fuckboy uh huuuuuh." He'd cut me off to make the joke. It was something typical of us. He'd chided my manwhore nature for years and I'd just joked back that he'd understand one day. My voice caught in my throat as it occurred to me he understood better than I ever knew. I shook myself back to when I noticed the silence was hanging there as he'd stopped laughing by now. "Show's how well you know your old man, it was NOT an Equinox fuckboy this time." I wasn't lying. It had been him. He laughed again. "But it WAS a fuckboy." I paused. I bit my lip for a second but decided what the hell? "Not that I know firsthand but from what I've seen he's quite the fucking slut." The words came out like a growl. Low and DEEP. Luke cleared his throat, seemingly caught off guard by either the change in my voice or the bluntness of the statement. "Well fuck Dad. I. hope ya get to see for yourself then." "Me too son... me too." FUCK... This is chapter one in a new series chronicling the beginning escapades of a manwhore father and his jock slut son. Apologies to readers familiar with my other work but I promise I am currently working on a new chapter in the Daddy Bear Boyfriend & Muscle Nephew series as well! As always feedback is welcome! TheKingDomWrites@gmail.com