Daddy Joseph and Daddy Alistair: A Belated Birthday

Story by Obsidarin on SoFurry

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Fifth entry in the Daddy Joseph series I commissioned from Rosenade.

Special father/son time is in sight for a special day.


Tomorrow was Taylor's birthday, not that he could really remember. So much had changed about his life within the past year - going from a reasonably independent adult to a tit-sucking, ass-sniffing daddy's boy entirely dependent upon two wealthy, domineering Pokemon - that such information felt like a vestigial organ. It wasn't as though the date made much of a difference in his current routine. Whether it was September 29th or March 3rd or December 25th, he was still expected to do the dishes, drink his milk, and desperately huff at his Daddies' armpits like they were furry, sweaty oxygen masks. What was the point in making a fuss about another year around the sun? And so, as Taylor grew more and more dependent upon the two middle-aged men who controlled his life, he filed his birthday away, alongside other inessential activities such as building a workbench or doing his taxes. But his Daddies didn't. - "What brand of butter do we get?" Daddy Joseph's upper body was halfway inside an open cooler at the supermarket, and he was bent over comparing prices. "We want something nicer than usual for this, don't you think?" Daddy Alistair glanced either which way down the aisle, rolling his eyes with a slight smile. "It's only going in a cake, isn't it?" "What do you mean by 'only', dear? Any chef will tell you-oh." The Lucario interrupted himself by bumping his head against the shelf above him. "Any chef will tell you good food comes from good ingredients. Nothing but the best for our boy, isn't that right?" "If it was really so important, we'd just churn our milk," Daddy Alistair responded. "And would you mind terribly if you stopped showing the entire dairy aisle your ass?" With a sheepish laugh, Daddy Joseph pulled his head from the cooler and stood up straight, his massive khaki-covered ass no longer possessing its own gravitational pull. "There's a thought. We could use our milk, couldn't we?" "Aye, we could. But it'd take a bit of time, and it's not like you've got time for it." "You do." The Delphox flashed a playful grin. "But I don't want to." It was true that he took a less active role at his law firm than Joseph did with his company, but that didn't mean he wanted to stick around at home churning butter like an 18th century hausfrau. Daddy Joseph crossed his arms, thought for a moment. "Not even if I let you tie me up next weekend?" Daddy Alistair considered this offer. "All of next weekend," he said. "You'll be comfortable, don't worry." "Oh, don't worry about me. I'll make myself comfortable." "You forgot the last time I tied you up, didn't you?" "Nonsense. I like stress positions." The Lucario chuckled, leaned in, kissed his husband on the cheek. "That's settled, then?" The Delphox grinned and returned it. "Aye, I'd say so." And so Daddy Joseph pushed their shopping cart ahead, the pair moving on to the spice aisle. The second-to-last item on their list was vanilla; the very last item on the list, they had already picked up from the pharmacy. - When Daddy Joseph took the underwear hood off of Taylor's head one morning and murmured "happy birthday" in his ear, the human had no reason to disbelieve him. He was vaguely aware that Daddy Joseph likely possessed his driver's license and other personal information; and if he didn't have that, he would have Daddy Alistair, a Psychic-type who could have plucked the information from the recesses of his mind even when Taylor thought he forgot it. But it also seemed plausible that the massive Lucario simply knew, with the same certainty with which he knew Taylor needed a strong, stabilizing presence in his life when he showed up on his doorstep by accident. In any case, Taylor felt that familiar fluttering in his heart when the Lucario took him in his arms and cradled him close. "We don't have a special breakfast for you today, I'm afraid," Daddy Joseph said, "but we'll have something for you tonight. In the meantime..." He had unbuttoned his shirt to let one of his blue moobs free, nipple twitching and already slightly leaking. "I'm sure this will suffice for my special boy. Isn't that right?" And of course, it did. Taylor's head bobbed forward without another word, and he and Daddy Joseph both would luxuriate in the simple pleasures of feeding. The Lucario's chest gradually drained itself into Taylor's belly, and all was right with the world. It certainly got Taylor's birthday off to a lovely start, but the rest of the day leading up to dinner was...well, it was a little strange. Daddy Joseph had to go off to work, leaving Taylor alone with Daddy Alistair throughout the day, which Taylor thought he was used to by now. Just do whatever chores the Scottish Delphox gave him, lick whatever crevices he wanted licked, and all would be well. He loved his boy, but he was never as touchy-feely as his Lucario husband. Except, apparently, for today. Taylor smelled Daddy Alistair before he saw him. He had been sent upstairs to do the dishes (more for character-building than anything else; his Daddies had a sleek white dishwasher in their kitchen, but insisted he scrub them by hand anyway), and he had only been at it for a minute before his nose tingled with the masculine scent of sweat mixed with traces of smoke and coffee. Then, a hand reached between his legs, and Taylor almost dropped the plate he had been holding. Daddy Alistair chuckled in his ear. "What's the matter, lad? Can't I touch the birthday boy?" "I-well-uhh..." Taylor stammered for a few seconds, flustered and more than a little confused. His Daddies loved him, and he loved them back, but it was rare for them to do anything remotely approaching reciprocity. Their relationship was defined by what the younger human could do for them, not the other way around; the two Pokemon played with his cock so infrequently he wasn't entirely sure why they didn't just put it in chastity. And yet, Daddy Alistair's hand stroked his boy's dick through his thin pair of underwear, not squeezing but still feeling oddly tight. "I didn't say stop doing the dishes, did I?" Another teasing laugh in Taylor's ear; the Delphox's hot breath tickled his neck and made him shiver. Taylor's hand continued to work the sponge across the surface of the plate in circles, and he thought if he focused very hard on the way the suds dripped along the ceramic he could distract himself from Daddy Alistair's slow, teasing caress. No such luck. It turns out that a handsome middle-aged fox breathing sweet nothings in one's ear while giving a through-the-underwear handjob is inherently more attention-grabbing than a sink full of used cutlery. Taylor rinsed off forks, scrubbed the inside of glasses, and made sure no stray particles clung to the rim of a bowl, but no matter what he did, that grasping, stroking hand remained in the center of his mind. He did his very best, but soon enough, a gentle, needy gasp escaped- -and Daddy Alistair withdrew his hand, clucking his tongue. "You'll have to hold back a little better than that, my boy. Especially considering what Daddy Joseph and I have in store for you..." Then Taylor would be left alone to his chores for a while longer, but in another hour or two there he was again: rubbing between Taylor's legs, nibbling at his ear, licking along his jaw. Was Daddy Alistair just in a mood? Or was there something more nefarious afoot? - Well, "nefarious" wouldn't be the first word for it, Taylor supposed. As he watched his Daddies approach him after dinner, holding a round, vanilla-frosted cake on a tray and singing "Happy Birthday", he was, of course, flattered and joyous. But if this was supposed to be a celebration of his birthday, then why did Daddy Alistair seem to make it his goal to see how many different ways he could sexually frustrate him throughout the day? Had he known they were doing something special, he might have even been so bold as to ask for a handjob. (Just kidding, of course - Taylor was trained to be better than that.) Still, any questions he had would fade to the back of his mind by the time Daddy Joseph, carrying a plate and wielding a spatula, carefully began to cut the first slice for Taylor once he blew out the candles. The Lucario was tall enough that he had to get down on one knee next to the table, but that just made the moment feel more intimate: he leaned his head in close, whispering "happy birthday, mein liebling" into Taylor's ear, as he placed the slab of dessert on Taylor's plate. It certainly looked like the kind of cake two wealthy men might serve for dessert. If Taylor hadn't smelled the cake in the kitchen as it was cooling throughout the day, he might have thought they had gone to a high-end bakery. The cake itself was a friendly, sunny yellow, bright but not unnaturally so, and the icing had an appealing consistency, smooth and runny and just shy of opaque. Taylor wasn't ordinarily a dessert person, but his mouth was watering before he took a single bite. And what a bite it was! He would have never taken two men like his Daddies to be bakers, but the way this tasted suggested that at least one of them was a natural. Soft but not insubstantial, sweet but not cloying, it practically dissolved the instant it touched Taylor's tongue. He didn't say anything for a moment, but with the expression on his face, he didn't need to. "I think he likes it," Daddy Alistair remarked, with a hint of pride. "Look at that smile, hmm?" "A beautiful sight to see." Daddy Joseph gently laughed as Taylor dove back in for a few more bites, not seeming to mind a bit of greediness. It was his birthday, after all. After he had finished three-quarters of the slice, Taylor was finally able to say something. "Delicious...delicious," he repeated, dreamily, for a good few seconds, letting each new bite land on his tongue like sweet cakey clouds. Eventually, he thought to ask something. "What's in it?" "Just a normal pound cake," Daddy Alistair said. "Pound cake, butter cake, whatever it's called." "You know," Daddy Joseph said, showing a hint of pride of his own, "if it tastes richer than usual..." He brought a hand up to one of his tits, bouncing it with a smile. "The butter was made with some special milk. Can you taste it?" Now that Daddy Joseph mentioned it, Taylor could - he could taste that same sweet, creamy comfort that his Daddies fed him morning, noon and night. That would explain the warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling in his belly. But it didn't explain why he suddenly felt so woozy. Nor did it explain why his fork felt so heavy, heavy enough to clatter from his hand and onto his plate. And it certainly didn't explain why Daddy Joseph leaned in, giving Taylor one more kiss, and whispered in his ear. "We'll see you at midnight, birthday boy." As Taylor fell asleep, he was trying to figure out what else he tasted in that slice of birthday cake, and why he couldn't quite put a name on it. But of course, the drug the Lucario daddy had laced the cake with didn't have a name yet - it would be another year or two before it showed up in pharmacies. Of course, Daddy Joseph researched and grilled his pharmaceutical connections so he would know for absolute certain it was safe before asking for a bottle, but government approval didn't happen overnight. How lucky of Taylor, then, to get a sneak peek. - Taylor couldn't see. This, in itself, wasn't unusual. Even when his face wasn't mashed into one of his Daddies' sensitive crevices, he often found himself with his head stuck in a hood made of a pair of Daddy Joseph's underwear. But he was wearing no such hood right now. In fact, the only thing he could feel on his face was a smooth silk blindfold. He tried to move his hands to pull it off and see whatever his Daddies had surprised him with - but, of course, they were bound behind his back. It took Taylor a minute to realize what he was expected to do. He was, after all, seated on a soft, cushy mattress, the kind he would have never had the chance to sleep on even before he started sleeping in the laundry room of a giant sweaty Lucario. He was in no particular hurry to move. But he would have to move eventually. And, if a faint but distinct scent tickling his sinuses was any indication, he had a good idea of what direction he had to take. His Daddies certainly didn't make it easy on him. They were on this floor, he was pretty sure - they didn't want him to fall down the stairs and crack his head open - but they were way on the other side of their large house. Their scent was faint - faint enough that Taylor worried he was mistaken and that his Daddies had left the house entirely - but he was already planning the path he would take to get there. Sniff sniff sniff. Taylor tasted the air like a bloodhound, feeling a little stupid doing so, and stepped off the bed, slooooooowly moving forward. His steps were careful and deliberate, and, absent his hands, he often stood on one foot to test where the doorways were. This greatly reduced the number of walls he ended up walking into, although, much to his embarrassment, it did not eliminate the threat entirely. Once he left the bedroom, it was mostly a matter of walking from one hallway to the other, keeping himself against one wall to make sure he stayed on the right path. As he moved, the scent grew, if not stronger, then more well-defined: it was like a speck on the horizon becoming a small but recognizable building the closer you came to it. At a certain point, he was able to distinguish the smells of Daddy Joseph (deeper, earthier) and Daddy Alistair (spicier, fresher). Sniff sniff sniff. If he had to guess, they were in the same room. Taylor coughed from the sudden intrusion of a sharp, pungent smell immediately to his left, and for a split second he wondered if he had been going about this all wrong. But another few sniffs was all it took to reassure him. There was none of the warm-body smell in the direction he was pointing in, none of what told Taylor's nose that his Daddies were really there. Did they put a pile of laundry someplace to serve as a decoy? For a moment, he felt proud of himself for briefly outsmarting his Daddies - but then, he still had to actually find them. Each deliberate step forward brought him another step closer to that smell, which by now had become so clearly defined in his nose (and by extension, his mind) that he could practically paint a picture of the two of them in his head. Daddy Joseph, lounging on a couch in the spare room they were probably in, arms resting behind his head; Daddy Alistair, leaning against the wall, a hand reaching down to idly scratch his balls; neither wearing a stitch of clothing between them. What did it say about Taylor that his sense of smell had developed so acutely, just from sniffing the ripe man-stink of his two Poke-daddies? Another version of him might have cared. This one only followed the trail his nose traced, his steps growing quicker and quicker, barely able to restrain himself before turning left through an open door and being greeted by the rich, bassy laugh of Daddy Joseph. "Very good, little one. Very good." Two hands took off his blindfold, and Taylor got one second of light before his face was shoved into the Lucario's sweaty ass crack. Now that was a scent Taylor knew well. Even though he didn't have to make out with Daddy Joseph's ass every single day, he had spent enough quality time with that big blue behind to recognize every pheromone-laden bit of that sweaty, heavy, salty canyon. If his arms were free, he would have wrapped them around Daddy Joseph's waist; as it stood, he was content to merely sniff and kiss, tongue and nose circling the Lucario's hole with the drunken affection of a slow dancer savoring an embrace with his partner. Taylor's ears were swallowed in the embrace of Daddy Joseph's ass cheeks, which meant he could only hear a muffled sentence, followed by "ready?" and a laugh that came from behind him. The sensation that came next was difficult to mistake for anything else: Daddy Alistair's hairy, sweaty ass, pressing against the back of Taylor's head and trapping him in some kind of perverse sandwich. The effect was more psychological than anything else. When your nose is shoved somewhere as overpowering as Daddy Joseph's asshole, it's difficult to smell anything else in the vicinity, even if it's equally as strong. But it served its purpose. It reminded Taylor of his place, reminded him that there was no backing away from his true purpose: servicing sweaty, masculine Pokemon daddies. "Shame you're so set on hogging his nose," Daddy Alistair said, his tone light and teasing. He ground his hips backward, making sure Taylor's nose was lodged against his husband's pucker. "I was the one who brought him in to begin with," Daddy Joseph reminded the Delphox. "Besides, if it's any consolation, you can fuck him first tonight." "Hmmrrf?" Taylor made a quizzical noise between the pairs of cheeks, but his Daddies paid him no mind. - Taylor had already spent a longer time sucking Daddy Alistair's cock tonight than he had the whole previous week - and he had sucked no shortage of cock that week, either. It was honestly quite impressive how the Delphox managed to keep himself from cumming, even after a half-hour straight of slow, leisurely dick-sucking. Taylor was certain that if he were in Daddy Alistair's position, he wouldn't have been able to last five minutes. His jaw was complaining from the strain of keeping his mouth open to accommodate his Daddy's girth, but Taylor was nothing if not eager to please. He kept his head bobbing, dutifully and skillfully, drool seeping from the corners of his lips as he felt Daddy Alistair's dick slide so smoothly in and out of his mouth. The Scottish 'phox was being relatively gentle tonight, too - the head of his cock only barely kissed the back of Taylor's throat, and he never tried to make his boy swallow it to the hilt, no matter how badly both of them knew he wanted to. But foreplay, lovely as it may be, couldn't last all night, and it came as a relief to Taylor when Daddy Alistair leaned his head down and murmured an order into his boy's ear. "Right, lad. On your stomach. Raise your hips." Taylor remembered the first time the handsome Delphox first had his way with him from behind - it was only a few months ago, but time had a way of dilating when your sole purpose in life was to serve a pair of rich middle-aged men. He remembered the shiver of anticipation that ran up his spine that day, and he was happy to note that, no matter how many times he presented his ass for his Daddy, the shiver remained. Some things never got old. Now thoroughly lubricated, Daddy Alistair braced himself in position behind Taylor, the human feeling the comforting presence of the Delphox behind him like some benevolent shadow. The head of his cock prodded against Taylor's hole (which was nicely relaxed at this point - Daddy musk was as potent as poppers), just to locate it, just to make sure he was lined up just so. Then, those firm hands rested on Taylor's shoulder, the bigger man grunted- -and every inch of Daddy Alistair's cock pushed its way inside. "Hnnnnaaaah," Taylor said, his grunt of momentary discomfort giving way, as it always did, to a blissful moan. It was enough to earn a small laugh from Daddy Alistair (not to mention Daddy Joseph, who was taking a breather and lazily stroking his dick as he watched). The Delphox leaned forward, pressing his upper body against the human's back, nipping at his boy's earlobe and rumbling. "Hope you like your birthday present," he purred, his hot wet tongue flicking out against Taylor's ear and making the boy squeak in a way that elicited another round of laughs from his Daddies. Blushing seemed silly when a man was already balls-deep inside him, but Taylor blushed anyway. From there, things proceeded according to the usual, wonderful routine, aside from Daddy Alistair going much slower than normal. Between him and Daddy Joseph, the Delphox was generally the more sexually aggressive - as evidenced by the fact that when the two of them had sex, Daddy Alistair always topped - but he was making a real effort to hold himself back this time. Deep, slow, sensual strokes, pumping his hips with an easy, undulating rhythm that reminded Taylor of waves going in and out. Not that Taylor could think too hard about waves - or anything, really - with how deep Daddy Alistair was digging inside him. The boy's mind was going blank with each firm thrust, eyes rolling, mouth opening, tongue lolling free. It only took a minute for him to press his face into the bed, muffling his moans and whines, and wheedle Daddy Alistair to go a little faster. "D-Daddy...c'mon...~" "Mmm?" Daddy Alistair kept up that deliberate pace, the motion of his dick making Taylor's hole pulse and contract with each centimeter of movement. "Couldn't quite catch that. Speak up, birthday boy." "Fumme..." Taylor slurred his words a little, then scrunched up his face and took a second to correct his speech. "Fuck me harder...please...?" "That last word again, my boy. Just a little louder?" Taylor didn't need to look behind him to know that Daddy Alistair was smiling as he teased him, but that didn't mean he wouldn't do as he was told. "Please!" A nice low chuckle from the Delphox as he wrapped his arms around Taylor's chest. "Well, it is your birthday..." Which was all the warning Taylor got before Daddy Alistair started to pound him. It was like a piston had been suddenly switched to full power. There was maybe a second of warming up before Taylor started to feel every inch of that dick overpower his hole, the collision of Daddy Alistair's hips against his ass ringing out through the room with heavy THWOCK THWOCK THWOCK THWOCK THWOCKs. It was such an overwhelming display of force that Taylor couldn't even moan for a good ten seconds - he just kept his mouth open, giving quick, hiccuping gasps every time that cockhead rammed into his prostate. And by the time he moaned a high-pitched, mewling porno-moan, it was too late to stop himself from cumming. Completely hands-free, Taylor's dick twitched and bounced before squirting its load out all over the bed, with Daddy Alistair's own grunting, growling orgasm not far behind. As Taylor fell forward, sprawling out on the mattress and feeling Daddy Alistair's seed slosh around inside him, he realized he had a whole other Daddy to fuck. - Daddy Joseph didn't spend quite as much time getting his cock sucked as Daddy Alistair. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was already hard as a rock at this point in the evening, or maybe he was being considerate: he had an absolute jaw-stretcher of a cock, and sucking it for even a minute or two, let alone half an hour, was no mean feat. It was Taylor's birthday, after all. But it was still a task Taylor performed happily, savoring every inch of Daddy Joseph's thick, meaty blue dick, letting his drool dribble down his chin, letting every inch of his Daddy get nice and acquainted with every inch of his throat. "Oh, yes, das ist gut..." Daddy Joseph murmured to himself, right as Taylor took a deep breath through his nose and brought himself down to the base. His face tightened, he groaned out through grit teeth, and the human took more than a little pride in the knowledge that he just made the all-powerful Lucario visibly hold back his orgasm. When his Daddy pulled out, cock slapping against his plump thigh, Taylor was smiling. "I forgot you were an expert," Daddy Joseph said, with a half-smile. "Now, allow me..." Huge hands rested on Taylor's shoulders, guiding him onto his back as the Lucario climbed into bed after him. Even considering the size of the bed, the mattress springs still creaked and whined beneath the added weight of the musclegutted man, but Daddy Joseph paid it no mind. His eyes were locked on Taylor, and his hands rubbed up and down the boy's legs as he gently spread them apart. "I'm going to lay forward a bit, boy," Daddy Joseph explained. "If I'm crushing you, tap me five times. Do you understand?" Taylor managed to nod, even though he was so focused on the Lucario's plump, perfect mantits that he could barely hear his Daddy speak. But then, Daddy Joseph didn't really need to speak. All he had to do was rest forward and press a nipple against Taylor's lips, and the human would take it from there. A warm, relaxed tingle went through the boy's body as he started to suckle, lips sealed around that sensitive pink nub, teeth lightly nipping every now and then to make Daddy Joseph moan. It never took long for the milk to start flowing, and in a matter of seconds Taylor's eyes had fluttered shut, falling back into the familiar rhythm of suckling on his father's tit. The milk was as delicious as it always was: it was sweet and rich, paradoxically easy on the stomach yet utterly filling. Milk alone was a substantial meal, and yet when he nursed on Daddy Joseph, he felt like he could drink indefinitely. It was the kind of simple pleasure Taylor never tired of, and he was so engrossed that he didn't notice Daddy Joseph's dick prodding against his entrance until the Lucario pushed his hips forward and- "Mmmmmrrf!" Daddy Joseph was as gentle as possible, but there was simply no way for Taylor to take something of that size up his ass without a bit of discomfort. Caught off-guard, his muffled squeal vibrated against the Lucario's nipple, making him lean his head back and give a little moan of pleasure. "Careful, my boy," he warned. "My chest is so sensitive when I feed you, so when I do this-" He buried himself inside Taylor again, and the gasp and moan he felt against his tit made him shudder. Daddy Joseph never quite sped up like Daddy Alistair did. He never strayed from that steady, careful stroke pattern, guiding his massive dick in and out of the boy's hole while still tenderly feeding him his milk. It may have been Taylor's birthday, but Daddy Joseph was savoring this gift as much as his human son. After the long, satisfying evening they all shared together, perhaps it wasn't a surprise that Daddy Joseph didn't last as long as his husband. He was simply too eager, too horny to hold back for much longer. A few minutes of pressing his weight against his boy, feeding him and fucking him at the same time, before the Lucario whispered with surprising delicacy into Taylor's ear. "Ready...?" The nod against his chest was all he needed. As Daddy Joseph's cockhead kissed Taylor's prostate, both of them reared back, brought to the very precipice of pleasure, and then- - Taylor must have blacked out at some point after that earth-shattering prostate orgasm, his second of the night. When he came to, he found himself in a decidedly unfamiliar position: waking up not wearing his underwear hood in his laundry room/bedroom, but laying on a luxurious bed as big as his old bathroom, sandwiched between his two loving Daddies. Daddy Alistair's head was resting against Taylor's shoulder, while Daddy Joseph had his arms wrapped around the younger human like he was a teddy bear. Both of them were snoring rather loudly, the sound coursing through Taylor's body like some kind of deep tissue massage. Taylor didn't know if this was going to be a regular occurrence, if he had finally graduated to sharing a bed with his two Pokedaddies. In all honesty, he didn't mind his old bedroom at all - he would happily spend the rest of his nights breathing through Daddy Joseph's sweat-laden briefs. But while there was no doubt that his Daddies loved him...well, being here with them made it feel concrete. Made it feel lasting. Made it feel irrevocable. Daddy Joseph's snores started to synchronize with Daddy Alistair's, the two of them drifting in and out of unison like some strange piece of classical music. Taylor took in the odd comfort of the noise, the purring chainsaws on either side of him. He closed his eyes, he smiled, and he slept.