FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Charles sat in his kitchen and quietly read the newspaper just as he had done for the last thirty years of his life. The black nub of his tail swished back and forth as he read an article about a company he had took a chance on. His investment seemed to have payed off, but after extensive research into the future goals of the company his gut told him it was time to sell. He trusted his gut all his life. He played the stocks game fast and loose for many years. But, as he grew older and involved with life he decided to broaden his portfolio to include more mutual funds and stable companies.

His research afforded him many years of comfortable living. Wealthy, his home and mannerism never really fit the stereotype of high society. A clunker of a car that he had owned since college sat in his driveway. Though some would argue that it was a new car with the amount of parts he had removed and replaced. A paradox problem, how many old parts would need to be replaced before the old car would be considered new again. Home minimally furnished, the furniture appeared old but kept well. Pictures hung on the wall, some fine art while others were personal. Family photos and portraits adorned the eggshell white walls, their black frames popped from the surface and accented the photos. His late wife, son, and himself hung on the wall over his shoulder. Another portrait of just his wife and son hung on the wall opposite easy to see if he would just look right or left.

Charles closed his laptop and sighed pleasantly, the rush of trading always got his adrenaline going. He looked over at the portrait of his wife and smiled, the short leopard was dwarfed by him and the doberman.

A small smile crept across his snout, "you would have been riding my ass if you just watched what I did this week. My ever reluctant cheerleader," he said and folded the newspaper onto the table.

He picked up his coffee mug and finished the brew of third wave coffee and set the mug down. The brew was not your usual bitter dark crap from a fastfood restaurant or even something from a grocery store. Even though it had been lightly roasted, the coffee exuded a complex and full of character flavor. Subtle hints of berries and chocolate lingered at the back of his maw in a pleasant coat. Charles scratched his butt as he walked and pulled the fabric from the crevice of his ass. He wasn't a gym bunny, but he did have a powerful and thick look to him. Ricky liked to describe his father as a center position build. Padded with fat in some areas but muscled. Though one day Ricky described his father as a bear. His son had educated the rottweiler of what he meant by bear and he even took to calling himself it. Whenever he did it would make Ricky blush and then protest.

Charles had suspicions that his son might be gay, but he would wait and let his son tell him himself. That day hadn't come yet, but he had hoped the answer would come later that night. The rottweiler's mood had shifted dramatically when he got the text from his son. He was expected to arrive by mid afternoon and would stay for the week. The house was already prepared and the refrigerator stocked to capacity, he never did enjoy doing grocery shopping.

But what he did enjoy was the warmth of a shower and as he stood in scrupulously clean room he busily continued with his morning ritual. The minty flavor of his toothpaste sloshed over his tongue as he made that mossy sensation vanish from each tooth. He finished with his tongue and used a short buzzer to clean his face of any stray, fur that had grown too long. Fingers rolled over the peppered mixture on his chin and continued to groom himself till satisfied. He stepped into the shower and rumbled a content growl as the hot water soaked his short fur. His back fur was completely black, or at least had been, now there were large patches of grey fur that followed his spine and accumulated just below his shoulder blades. The luster had vanished and his dermatologist suggested a change in shampoo. It was a moisturizer that seemed to moderately work, it at least made his fur soft again. The medicated scent tickled his nose as he showered and scrubbed his body clean.

Eyes closed as his mind wandered and his hands went on auto-pilot.

"My big, strong, doggie," Mary would say when they shared a shower. "Let me get your back sweetie."

The memory of her voice made Charles smile and think further, it wasn't often he had such vivid memories. His hand cupped his low hangers and soaked them through with the sudsy brew. But they lingered there longer as he began to imagine his wife's hands was his own. The gentle massage made the old dog's sheath thicken, not as quickly as it had when he was younger. Not that he minded, he prefered it long and slow. His proud shaft began to peak from the mottled black and brown sheath, red as ever. The tapered tip was tickled which caused his hips to thrust forward.

"Mmm you always knew how to coax my cock out," he said to himself. He leaned forward and rested the top of his head against the shower tile. "You'd do that thing that make me whimper like a pup," the rottie continued and let his mind wander.

Curiously, a slick finger reached back and trailed along the valley between his cheeks until it found his ring. The leathery pad circled the flesh and gently teased penetration while his other hand peeled back his sheath. His red shaft throbbed with his pulse and dribbled water pre into the pool of water at his feet. Despite the constant stream of water drops he could smell his arousal. Mature, it didn't smell like it did when he was in college. Eyes closed once more he settled into a slow rhythm of strokes and probes. The slick finger had begun to push into his hole, just as Mary would do when he really wanted a quick dousing of doggie seed.

Charles grunted and moaned as his knot swelled at the base and his cock grew a few shades darker to purple. His finger had worked its way into his hole and was soon pushed tight to his prostate, the male g-spot as she liked to put it. He massaged it just like she would and stopped his firm strokes over his shaft. Fingers were wrapped around his knot as it slowly filled and expanded into his grasp. Hips drove forward when the tightness increased and he could feel his butt clench around his finger. The nut of his prostate swelled and he increased the internal massage two fold. It wasn't long until the old dog let out a shuddered gasp and lost his puppy batter across the tiled wall. It was one thing he was personally proud of, how potent he seemed to be even in old age. His cum arched several lashes across the white tile before it succumbed to weaker throbs and dribbles of seed between his legs. Afterglow quickly consumed his body and cock began to deflate. He leaned away from the wall and washed the rest of his body while he shrunk back into his sheath. The last pushes of thick, white, cream was quickly washed away under the shower spray.

Morning became afternoon and Charles continued to do one last pass of the house before he cracked a beer and sat on the leather couch. He took a sip before he set the can onto a coaster and pulled his phone out. He checked his email as well as his finances, it wouldn't be long until the market would close for the weekend. He came across another company and had begun to research into them and was interrupted by the doorbell. Floppy ears perked and his tail wagged a reaction that stemmed from his childhood. He rolled up to the door and opened it but was met with a fist to the face.

The sucker punch made him black out and collapse onto the floor. He remembered the sensation of being dragged into the home and duct tape wrapped around his snout, arms, and legs. Woozy he could make out two men who began to look through the home and grabbed what appeared to be valuable. His heart raced from pain and shock but it didn't raise higher when he observed the thieves did not appear armed. He laid in the hall, eyes closed, happy that no more harm had come to him.

There was nothing of great value kept within the home save for some of his wife's jewelry he kept upstairs. Though his heart would hurt dearly if they were to go missing, it was better than potentially being beaten to death.

"This guy has nothing, I thought you said he was rich," he heard one of the thieves yell.

"There has got to be something in here," another called.

"Shit, forget it, just grab the television and the computer."

Charles saw another figure appear at the door but his concussed brain blurred his vision. "Don't move dad, I'll be right back."

Ricky's familiar voice made the rottweiler's brow raise. But when he felt the presence vanish he began to squirm and muffle out protests. His eyes were closed again in hope as he heard Ricky climb the stairs to the upper floors. Then silence save for the sounds of rummaging and mattresses as they were flipped over.

"Shit he has a gun!"

"Get down assholes or I will fire," Ricky threatened.

"Okay, fuck," two voices said in near unison. "Just don't shoot us man," the young voices whimpered.

Charles sat at the edge of an ambulance and held an ice pack to his swollen face. The man was calm as he looked over the small scene in front of his house. Emergency lights flashed brightly and overpowered the sun's light against the painted walls. Two bikes were parked on his front lawn as the two thieves dressed as Jehovah's Witnesses were handcuffed and led to the back of a police car.

Ticky was next to one of the police cars busy giving a statement to the officer. Despite the circumstances he couldn't help but wag and smile warmly. Even angry, his son had grown into a handsome man. The doberman stood a couple heads taller than the leopard dressed in blue.

"I wonder if he needs to get his pants tailored still, he was always a tall boy," Charles thought to himself.

The rottweiler could tell that Ricky would be a cut man and the image only confirmed his suspicions. A subtle a-frame build, there was not a lot of bulk on his son's bones and gave the doberman a natural runner's look. Nothing compared to say a greyhound, but healthy. He chuckled as the infamous rage painted across Ricky's snout. He couldn't help not to flash his dangerous teeth when angry, it was just natural. Green eyes darted toward the police car and gave the two thieves a death glare every now and then. But the smaller leopard used his hand to drag the dog's attention back to him before continuing to write on his notepad. The conversation ended soon after that and Ricky walked over to Charles.

When he was within appropriate closeness Ricky said, "christ alive, what a scene to come home to. Come on, lets get you inside dad." The doberman extended his hand and Charles grabbed it tightly.

"Ricky, I--"

"The nerve, kids will will always prey on the older folks. I swear if they had done more harm to you, I probably would have shot them," the doberman said.

"Ricky," Charles said with a chastising tone.

"You're right, I wouldn't really have done that. They are kids after all," the doberman lead Charles to the couch and stood with him as if to offer a seat. "But still I ca--"

"Shut up son," Charles said in a fatherly tone. That was enough to make the doberman's trap snap shut and ears lower slightly. With a stone face, Charles walked up to the doberman and quickly wrapped his arms around him. The rottweiler hugged tight, head faced to the side and pressed against the doberman's chest. "I've missed you dearly," Charles said.

"Awe, dad," Ricky said and returned the hug as best as he could. "I'm sorry, I was just afraid, afraid that they did more damage. Couldn't stand the thought of losing you," Ricky said.

"Shh, I'm here for another twenty or so years, god willing," Charles teased.

"Pfft, yeah right. You'll live forever," Ricky said back.

"God, do not curse me with that hell. Getting old sucks but living forever sounds awful," Charles said with a chuckle and released the doberman from his grip.

"Ha, you're not old. There are older folks in the office, now they are old," Ricky joked, "like I bet they were around when the dinosaurs walked the earth."

"Ricky! That's rude," Charles said and spanked his son's butt through his slacks.

This made the doberman's long, slender, and slightly curled tail sway behind him. "What? Aren't you the one who said honesty is a great policy?"

"With discretion Rick, sometimes it is okay to tell a little white lie," Charles chuckled and collapsed back into the sofa. He put the ice bag back to his face and grunted in pain when the cold surface touched the tender one. "Hope it isn't too much of a mess upstairs," Charles sighed and relaxed on the couch.

"We'll worry about that later, but for now don't you be falling asleep on me," Rick said while he rummaged through one of his bags. "I got a little gift for you dad," Ricky said.

Charles's ears perked and he leaned forward, elbows on knees, "whatcha get me pup?"

"Dad, don't call me pup," Ricky said in soft protest. But his tail betrayed him as it wagged subtley behind him, "but I was near Harlem and found an old bookstore."

"Oh? Was it Third Hand Books," Charles asked.

"Nah, they closed down about a year back," Ricky said. He pulled a plastic bag from his case and handed the wrapped book to his father. "Do you remember when you talked about that book that got you interested in Stocks?"

"Mm hmm, One Up On Wall Street. I lost track of that book a long while back," Charles recollected and began to unfurl the bag.

"Well, wouldn't believe what I found in that store," Ricky said with enthusiasm.

"Hmm," Charles said and pulled the familiar book from the plastic wraps. Old, worn, the pages had yellowed with age. The spine had multiple breaks as did the soft cover of the book. His eyes glowed once he opened the book and read the handwritten note, "no way. You couldn't have, this is the one from our community college," he nearly barked.

"Mmm hmm, you got your cliff notes on some of the pages too. It is the original book," Ricky said proud.

The original, library, check out tag was glued to the inside of the cover and listed various names that had checked out the book prior. However, near the end of the tab two names bounced back and forth. Charles McNeil and Mary Kitland, had checked out the book in an alternate fashion. One day it would be his name and the next hers. He thumbed to chapter 11 and could see the note that started it all. She knew Charles checked out the book and left a note for him to read. Which he did and left a note in the margins as well. On and on it went until finally they agreed on a date. The rest was history.

"Well I'll be damned, shit it really is the original one," Charles looked up at his son glossy eyed. "I know just the place for this," the rottweiler said and stood up.

He left the ice pack to continue to melt on the couch and walked toward the stairs. At the top, he looked over the turned over house and didn't even seem to mind the mess. He stepped through it and entered his bedroom. Ricky had followed him and stopped short at the door and watched the rottie set the book down on his night stand.

He also adjusted the picture of his wife before he straightened and looked please. "Ahh, that's all I really need now," Charles said and then looked over his shoulder. His brow raised as he saw his son, obedient as ever, stood outside his door. He chuckled and smiled, "you aren't a pup anymore. I don't think you'll break anything accidentally in here anymore."

Ricky chuckled and stepped into the dismantled room, "I remember when I broke mom's lamp. She was devastated," the doberman said and stood next to his father.

"Mm," Charles hummed, "she spent the better part of five years going down to the antique store to find that specific lamp." Charles chuckled and wrapped his hand around the doberman's waist. Hands fell on Ricky's hip and squeezed their bodies tighter, "I seem to remember a puppy dog feeling quite guilty. Didn't even have to yell or lecture you to see that you were truly sorry."

Ricky wagged his tail and perked his ears, "I remember I tried to glue the pieces back together."

Charles snorted, "yeah and ya glued half of the glass to the carpet!" The rottweiler's boisterous laugh made the doberman blush and ears to wilt.

"Hey, it's the thought that counts right," Ricky said with a small voice.

Charles rumbled as his laugh died off, "you're right son. It was very sweet of you," he said. Muzzle turned to give the doberman a long kiss to the side of his head, "whatever woman you catch is in for a real treat. You're a bit hot headed like me, but that'll even out with age." Charles stepped away from his son and began to clean the mess, "but as your mother liked to proclaim when she baked a cake. A little salt in the batter makes the sugar sweeter," he said with a smile.

"Dad, you shouldn't be cleaning, not right now," Ricky said with concern that was hastily shook off by the rottweiler.

"You can tell me what I should and shouldn't do when I'm dead," Charles said with a light hearted tone.

"Stubborn bastard," Ricky grumbled and helped clean as well.

"Watch that muzzle of yours boy, I don't want to administer spankings," Charles threatened.

"Maybe I want to feel ya spanking me again," Ricky said in a way that bordered on jest, "or not, I seem to remember ya making my cheeks rosy through the black fur."

"I remember that too, I felt awful and got ya a big tub of Rocky Road ice cream," Charles recollected.

"Speaking of, ice cream once we get this place fixed up want to get some food? I'm starving," the doberman said as he refolded a shirt.

"Mmm, sure. Figure I can cook something up while you get settled into your old room."

"That sounds perfect," Ricky chirped.

It took several hours to clean the home but could have taken less than an hour if Charles hadn't stopped Ricky. The rottweiler spun the situation to an opportunity to get rid of junk and clutter that he did not need anymore. The extra nicknacks removed allowed Charles to display more items of sentimental value of which Ricky was blessed with a story for each. But now he sat in his old room, items arranged exactly as he left them five years prior. They all appeared to be dusted regularly, not a single piece of dander or fur on the surfaces. Carpet showed those long, pointed, triangular marks from a thorough vacuuming.

Ricky nested his empty bags and slid them under his blazers and slacks that hung neatly in the closet. The doberman had stripped naked, old travel clothes tossed into a hamper, sheath swollen as he looked at the briefs in his hands. They were larger than his own and appeared broken in. The fabric at the front was stretched enough to hold a pouch despite being empty. Ricky stood at his mirror and began to slip the underwear onto his body and despite the larger size it fit his waist enough to hold it in place. However, as that pouch slid over his uncut shaft and balls he barely managed to fill them. The thought that his father's package was larger than his own made the swelling in his loins increase until it began to fill the pouch properly.

The doberman posed his thin frame and stared at the reflection of himself in his father's underwear. He looked good and felt powerful as if his father had embedded the fabric with his own energy and authority. Ricky groped and squeezed his cock a dampness collected at the tip of his tent which began to spread with the copious shot of pre-cum. He shuddered and continued to stroke himself through the underwear like he did regularly in school. The afternoon had always left the house empty with the exception of himself. He remembered he'd often rush off the bus just so he could find a pair of his father's underwear to bust a nut in.

"Ricky, food is ready, get on down here boy," Ricky heard his father call.

He smiled, while he quickly pulled on a pair of sweat and t-shirt. He descended the stairs into a wall of spices and meat, arousal stifled by the empty pit in his stomach.

"Oh my god, it smells so good," Ricky called.

"Good, you'll love it even more when you're in here," Charles said as he pulled a baking dish from the oven.

Ricky saw his father leaned over, nub of a tail wagged behind him. Charles appeared genuinely glad to have company over, that overall glow of confidence and comfort seemed to grow ten times brighter than it had before. He felt like a pup again, being cooked for and cared for, a stark contrast to the cutthroat nature of business. The doberman looked over the counter top and noticed an unfinished salad, leaves sealed in their plastic bag. He walked over to it and began to make the salad for the both of them.

"Thanks son," Charles said as he set the tray onto the stove top. "I gotta say, this might be my best work in years."

"Mmm, if this smell is of your best work I don't think I'd mind smelling your worse," Ricky replied and began to toss the salad in dressing. "What's in it?"

"Mmm I'll leave that as a surprise, unless you use that sniffer of yours to pick out what it is," Charles said before a chuckle.

"Oh, a challenge? I do enjoy those," Ricky said and sniffed the air, "rosemary, some sort of fowl. It isn't chicken, too gamey, duck?"

"Mmm hmm," Charles hummed and fished out some plates, "what else?"

"Potatoes," Ricky barked and wagged, "and oranges? What are you doing with oranges?"

"Ha, was wondering when you'd pick up on that. I read in magazine about duck a l'orange and decided to modify it a little," he began to dish up a plate of the duck breast and sauce, "figure I'd use you as a guinea pig. The guys are planning a get together potluck and wanted to find something different to the usual potato salad."

"Hmm, well sign me up whenever you need to test more food," the doberman moved up beside the rottweiler. "I'll gladly be your guinea pig," he added.

Charles chuckled and moved his head to give Ricky a quick nuzzle, "lets eat!"

The window's blinds were drawn as night fell and obstructed the outside view of the street. A decorative light fixture glowed bright over the hardwood table and empty plates, scraped and even licked clean. Two bottles of wine had been emptied at sat on either side of the table next to their glasses.

"That was amazing dad, I'd ask for second but I think I might burst if I do," Ricky said and relaxed onto his chair.

Charles rumbled in approval, "I take it dessert is off the table," he teased.

"Not tonight," the doberman stood on shaky paws and collected both plates.

Charles did the same but with the bottles and the glasses. Both steps wavered slightly as they walked down the hall and into the kitchen. Charles stopped in front of the sink and set the glasses down, but when he stepped back he bumped his son. The doberman reached around the rottweiler and placed the plate into sink as well. But he didn't unwrap himself and instead brought both arms to hug the rottweiler tight. Charles put his hands on his son's hands as he felt the long snout rest on his shoulder.

"I missed you," Ricky said.

"I did too," Charles said and just let himself enjoy the contact.

Both tails wagged as they shared the moment together, Ricky began to roll his hand against Charles's stomach. Fingers tickled the hidden belly button before they wandered lower, the slight alcohol buzz made the doberman bolder. But Charles stepped to the side and denied the doberman a feigned innocent touch and walked to the recycle bin to put the bottles in it.

"Want a beer," he asked and moved to the refrigerator.

Ricky eyed his father for a moment as he became aware that his erection must have been pressed against his father's warm buns. Ears lowered in slight embarrassment but perked as it appeared that the rottweiler did not notice. "Sure, I might be up for awhile, I'm behind you with the hours and what not," he said.

"That is alright, I recorded a couple television shows you might like them," Charles said and began to walk down the hall into the living room.

The rottweiler flopped into a two seater couch and pushed a button to trigger the recliner setting. He sighed and set his beer onto the table beside the couch and extended the other toward Ricky. The doberman flopped into the seat as well and took the offered bottle.

"Thanks," he said and watched Charles settle in and lift the beer to his lips.

"Not a worry little buddy," he grinned, "it is going to be a fun week."

"It will be, I can feel it in my gut," Ricky said.

"Sure it wasn't in your loins," Charles teased.

Ricky's ears plastered against his skull, "oh, you felt that?"

"Mmmhmm," the rottweiler said while he flipped on the television. "I know how it goes son, sometimes it has a mind of its own."

"It does, I'm sor--"

"Makes me wonder who the lucky woman is tha thas my son getting boned up in front of his old man," Charles smiled wide, "whoever it is they are lucky."

"Yeah, yeah they are," Ricky said quietly before he hid behind a long drink of his own beer.

Charles watched the television, a crime drama drawing his attention in for the moment. Though the dialogue had turned to noise for Ricky he may as well have been in a quiet room. Gears whirled in his head as he began to debate whether to lets his father into his personal life or not. Beer had been finished before his father and set onto the table beside him.

"Uhm dad, I have something to tell you," Ricky began.

"What is it son," Charles turned his head to look at the doberman.

"Well I, hmm, well I'm gay," Ricky said.

Both sat in silence for a moment until the subtle swish of an excited tail pierced through the television's sounds. Charles turned his attention back to the television smiling, "thank you son."

The reaction confused Ricky, ears filled with stories of parents disowning their sons and daughters. The angry blast, the fights that followed, nothing, no reaction other than that familiar, warm, smile.

"Thank you?"

"Mmhmm, for coming out to me. Was beginning to think you were gonna wait till I was on my death bed," Charles said matter factly.

"You mean you're not mad or anything," Ricky said and leaned forward on his knees.

"I will be if you keep interrupting my show pup," Charles half teased but had a serious tone.

Ricky wagged and leaned against Charle's shoulder, the rottweiler brought a hand up behind his head and scratched an ear. The doberman's eyes closed and leaned into the scratches before they opened and he stood up.

"I'm gonna get another beer, do you need one," he asked.

Charles reached over and chugged his bottle before he nodded his head. Ricky smiled and walked down the hall. But when he was in the enclosed space he couldn't help but smell his aroused musk. It was strong and thick but most of all unmistakable. Cheeks blushed as he was certain his father could smell his scent. He opened the fridge and reached for two more bottles, but while he did he heard another noise from the living room. He knew what it was and it made his heart thump with the possibilities. The walk back to the living room seemed longer as he looked ahead eager to see what lay around the corner. When he finally rounded the corner he was presented with his father. The rottweiler had folded his chair back to its original configuration, pants were removed and left him in his underwear. One leg was up along the back of the couch while the other remained on the ground.

It wasn't an unfamiliar sight, something the doberman had seen his father do when relaxed. Eyes were glued to the television and body appeared anchored as Ricky approached. The doberman waited for Charles to move his leg but when it became clear the rottweiler did not intend to move that he cautiously conceded. The blush on his face would need the darkness of the room to conceal the blush on his cheeks. A deep flush that he thought could pierce black cheeks. Ricky settled into the couch and handed the beer to his father, lower back pressed against the rottweiler's calve. He felt the older dog's paw wiggle and adjust into a more comfortable position at the small of Ricky's back.

The two sat in silences as the television show continued to play out some cheesy, formulaic, crime drama. Ricky's eyes were glazed from alcohol and slight boredom while Charles only budged to fastforward through commercials. It was the only movement the dog made other than to sip his beer, but even that was a rarity. It wasn't until the doberman felt Charles's foot begin to wiggle that his ears perked from his head. He leaned forward slightly to allow the rottweiler's foot to leave its space from at his back. But what surprised him more was the sensation of the dexterous foot press against his spine. Toes curled against the soft fur and dipped lower until two toes slipped past the elastic band of Ricky's sweats. Ricky looked over at the rottweiler who either feigned interest in the show or was genuinely engrossed. Either way, he felt those toes touch in a place he had never been touched before by his father. Those toes found the second band of elastic and began to pull up to reveal the tag out the back of Ricky's pants.

"Uh dad," Ricky began as he turned his head toward his father.

Ricky's ears wilted slightly as he noticed Charles had turned to look at the tag and wore a wide smile, "mm hmm, just as I thought. Back to your old tricks," Charles teased.

"Hmm, what do you mean," Ricky attempted to feign ignorance.

"Those briefs, their mine. You ain't spunken in them again are ya," Charles asked with a coy tone.

"What, what? I would never," Ricky paused and looked away from his father, "do that."

"Mmm, there's my guilty pup," Charles said and leaned off the arm rest. "It's okay Rick, I don't mind ya wearing my underwear."

Ricky huffed slightly but gasped when he felt the rottie's fingers massage the base of his ears and slowly eased them up again. He took the chance to glance at his father's face, fur did not cast the same rim of light along his features as they used to. Dull with age some of the silver fur glowed in the light of the television. But despite the age it was very clear that the rottweiler was still able to pitch a tent. The front of his briefs were bulged obscenely between spread legs and it made Ricky curious.

"Do, do you want to see me in your underwear," Ricky said softly.

There was a long pauses of which Ricky could not discern if it was because he was too inaudible or the rottweiler simply hadn't heard it. Instead he felt Charles's arm wrap around his neck and tug him closer. He let the rottweiler guide him forward until his head landed on the rottweiler's warm chest. The rottweiler cuddled his son and lazily scratched his back. A low hum resonated from the older male as he let his son settle against him in a way he had wished for.

"Perhaps, after my show," the rottweiler said.

Ricky nodded his head and scooted himself closer to Charles. Head rested on the warm, bare, chest while a hand lazily played along the chest fur. Content at the moment he closed his eyes and allowed himself to become lost in the embrace. His tail swayed behind him as his breaths began to match his father's. Slow and relaxed, content with the world and the place they occupied within it. There was a moment that Ricky's nose caught a familiar scent, unmistakably the rottweiler's but also a more potent mix. Eyes half lidded themselves to peak at the source, that tent in the briefs had not waned and even sported a slight damp spot.

Ricky adjusted himself a little more and allowed his hand to cup the rottweiler's bulge. He could feel the loose, heavy, sack fill the pouch of the briefs as well as his palm. His fondles weren't met with protest which only helped to build his confidence. Thumb pushed against the underside of a clothed cock and milked more of that pre-cum into the fabric. The thick scent that wafted from his father's crotch only grew in intensity as each second passed. It was intoxicating, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to progress. However, Charles was as the hand on Ricky's back rolled up to grip the nape of the doberman's neck. With a gentle, guiding, pressure the rottweiler began to guide his son's head down toward his crotch. Ricky moaned when his damp nose touched the scent soaked fabric. Encouraged, he let any reservation leave his body and become lost in the scent he idolized as a child.

He dug his pointed snout against the bulged package and huffed deep breaths of rottweiler musky. Charles shifted his legs wider and sighed when he felt Ricky's tongue lick across the fabric. The doberman's tongue lapped over the strained tent before his black lips sealed themselves around it. His saliva soaked the fabric and was sucked back into his maw with the unmistakably salty taste of sweat.

"Mmm, you tease," Charles moaned and pressed his crotch into the doberman's maw.

Ricky chuckled around the hot shaft as his tongue flicked across the trapped tip of rottie shaft. It dug against the fabric and cleaned it of previous moisture but was quick to replace it. The broad tip sought the vent, that fold, the entrance to the cotton prison that promised him a hot reward. He felt a small pop against his tongue and the subtle abrasive sensation roll against the top of his tongue and knew he had hit gold. The strong muscle worked the fabric open enough to allow his tongue to grace bare flesh. The rottweiler shuttered and then moaned as he felt the fabric of his underwear roll off the tip of his cock and settle at the base of his sheath. Cock had moved from one prison to another.

Though to call the doberman's mouth a prison would be deceitful as it felt more like the gentle caress of the ocean against feet. Hot, wet, slick, and smooth the doberman was able to take his father's shaft to the base. The long muzzle helped but he could feel the tapered tip tickle the back of his throat. Head remained seated as he felt heated shots of fluid begin to roll down his esophagus in pulses. The tickle of taste graced the back of his tongue as some of that coppery pre backed up from his throat before each swallow. He craved it, he wanted the taste to coat his mouth and he knew how to do just that. Head drew back slowly and followed the thick length with his tongue. Pressed against the top of his maw, each ridge of the mouth's roof tickled the rottweiler's tip and was promptly bathed in that pre. When black lips met the tip his mouth was full of that preseed.

Ricky swallowed and began his descent again faster than he had before. Pace continued to grow faster and his suction increased as well, mouth milked that cock for all it could give. He felt Charles's hips twitch and thrust into his mouth on instinct from the pleasure. Sighs and moans created soft music in the darkened room, television turned off by the rottweiler.

"Oh Ricky," Charles moaned, "don't stop, it feels so good."

Ricky's tail wagged faster than it had before and his bobs increased in enthusiasm. Lips smacked and slurrped with each bob of his head. A hand held up his torso and left the other free to caress the hidden sack. Fingers juggled testicles between each other and felt the loose flesh begin to tighten. He could feel the base of the rottweiler's cock begin to expand and press against his lips. Knot rapidly began to form when he adjusted his grip on Charles's balls to allow two fingers to slip behind the formed knot. A lustful growl began to grow in the rottweiler's chest until the dog went quiet.

Charles's body bowed and pressed his hips tight against those expert lips. Ricky's fingers squeezed the bulb tight as he felt the heat in his maw grow in intensity. Not to mention the rigidity of rottie cock solidified to stone before it relaxed into rhythmic pulses. Each volley of seed hit the back of his throat and did not have time to force its way down the doberman's throat. Cum pooled along the doberman's tongue and filled his sealed lips in lust. The pulses continued even as Ricky's mouth left the shaft a minute after. Although the seed was no longer as white as the cream that had filled his maw the cock continued to jettison lines across the bare belly. Ricky brought his head up to Charles's and soon their lips graced each other. Tongues played across lips before both snouts opened. Ricky turned his head to allow their snouts to lock together, tongues danced and shared remnants of the load with each other. Teeth clacked and rattled in their skulls as both men shared a passionate kiss.

The kiss dissolved into close cuddles in the dark that neither dog seemed to care to give up. But as the rottweiler's maw opened in a deep yawn both came to similar conclusions. They untangled themselves and stood up. Through the darkness they ascended the stairs and paused when it came to the fork in the hall. Ricky at his bedroom door, the rottweiler at his own, both wore a bashful look.

"I'll see you in the morning dad," Ricky said and began to hesitantly move into the opposite bedroom.

"Tsk, the hell you will. Get your tight tookish in here," Charles said.

Ricky's tail wagged vigorously as he followed Charles into his bedroom. The rottweiler had just reached for a lamp when he heard the box springs clatter in the darkness. When he turned on the incandescent bulb he was greeted with his son stretched over the comforter. The doberman had taken off his shirt and sweats which left him bare save for the underwear. His underwear that had been saturated in the doberman's excitement. The uncut length was clearly defined beneath the fabric that had tightened around the swollen cock.

Charles chuckled, "hmm, that is a neat trick. I'm sure the men and ladies love that."

"Mmm they do," Ricky said and smiled warmly at his father.

"You should keep that pair of underwear, you fill them out well," Charles slipped under the covers, "I'm sure lil Ricky enjoys the extra space as well."

"Dad," Ricky whined and then chuckled as he slipped under the covers as well. "Don't call my cock lil Ricky," he chuckled.

"I'll call it whatever the hell I want," Charles chuckled and reached over to turn out the bulb.

"You've seen it, it is very far from little," Ricky protested. The doberman felt Charles turn on his side before that warm back pressed tight against his chest. He gladly curled his long legs up against the rottweiler's, the taller doberman practically allowed the rottweiler to nest against him. "How long did you know about my habit," Ricky asked.

"Hmm, well Mary noticed my underwear had been going missing for one," Charles began, "it wasn't until you returned the crusty mess that she put two and two together. You know, my underwear not smelling like me but you instead."

Charles could feel the doberman felt embarrassed as he tucked himself closer to his back.

"Man I was a stupid pup," Ricky sighed.

"Was? You still are since I was able to catch ya," Charles teased.

"Yeah, but my stupidity would never have gotten me where I'm at now," Ricky said and licked the back of Charles's head. "But I can't help but wonder, why did you let me go down on you?"

Charles's tail wagged behind him, "well. To be honest, it was your mother's idea."

"What now?"

"Ha," Charles chuckled and yawned, "she suggested it. Of course not when you were a pup. It isn't our place as parents to impress ideals on our kin. When you were away and I was left with your mother, we got to talking. We hadn't told you about her health as we wanted you to have a clear head through school for as long as possible."

"I wish you hadn't," Ricky said quietly.

"I know and hope you can forgive us both for concealing that information," Charles was quick to say. His head nuzzled back against Ricky, "um, well your mom recalled the memories of you tossing it off in my underwear. Figured you had a crush on me or something like that. Figured it was a phase and let it be. But it kept going on, even after you wised up to replace the underwear with new pairs. She and I could not have sex comfortably, it was mostly oral, our size difference was too much for penetration. Never would have thought something could be too tight," Charles chuckled. "We agreed that if you were to ever come out that we'd both support you including your attraction to me. But again, we didn't want to press it and let you come to us on your own. Besides, we figured it would be safer if you fooled around in the family than put yourself at risk with others. As screwed up as that sounds," the rottweiler added.

"You both just love me," Ricky comforted Charles. "I appreciate that you cared enough to do that, besides." Rick whispered, "what happens in the family stays in the family."

Charles smiled, "is that a line from a movie or something?"

"Was it that bad," Ricky said with a chuckle.

"Not as bad as some softcore pornos I've watched," Charles countered.

Ricky's chuckle faded and was replaced by a tight hug from behind. He felt the rottweiler yawn in his arms again and rested his head at the back of his head.

"I love you," Ricky said.

"I know you do my sweet boy, we do too," Charles said at the cusp of sleep.

The house was quiet as both men embraced and soon found rest in their drunken state. Although they had fallen asleep snuggled against each other their bodies had slowly untangled and moved to separate sides of the bed. Charles had turned over onto his belly, arms clutched around a pillow while Ricky favored a face up position. The doberman's breath caught in his chest before his eyes opened. They darted around the room in a moment of confusion before his memory lulled him to ease. Head turned over to look at Charles, the sheets partially off his father's back. The round curves of the rottweiler's butt peeked from beneath maroon sheets covered in the white underwear. Ricky felt his cock twitch to life but he attempted to control it as his legs swung out of bed. The doberman headed toward the bathroom and kept one eye closed as the artificial light blinded the other.

He pissed out the wine and beer from the night before, a nice long piss that made his body feel much needed release. Light flicked on and for a moment he was blind in the darkness of morning once more. It was only when he opened his other eye that that night vision returned and helped guide him through the dark. When he rounded the doorway his brow raised as Charles had moved. The rottweiler was still on his stomach, however the back of his underwear had been slid off his pert cheeks. The sheets crossed over the rottweiler's thigh and left the chocolate brown and black cheeks exposed to cool air. The doberman adjusted himself as he took in the sight and slowly approached the bed again.

Charles appeared asleep, slow even breaths could be heard in the relatively silent room. Ricky slid his father's underwear off his waist and planted his arms between Charles's spread legs. Like a cat on the prowl his body slithered over the sheets until his head met the rottweiler's cleft. Nose pushed against the cropped tail and began to take in his father's scent again. His cock ground against the silky fabric and began to smear new and old pre into it. Tongue slipped between each cheek and began to explore the forbidden valley. It danced and reveled in the warmth until coarse fur gave way to smooth flesh. His tongue swiped across the bud and made it twitch. Ricky's eyes began to adjust to the darkness again and could see the rottweiler's fur along the spine ridge and ruffle in pleasure.

Mouth open as he began to pant and attempt to ease his father's hole wider around his tongue. He heard a rustle come from above his head while Charles clutched the pillow tighter. Body arched against his son's tongue as he felt the smooth appendage slip between tight muscles. Ricky pushed his spit into his father while he continued his smooth humps to the mattress surface. The long and lean body showed off the tight muscles that stretched skin like latex. Each contraction and release rolled through the muscle groups with a slow gracefulness that hid the power in them. Very little would keep his body from getting what it wanted eagerly licking at the rottweiler's hole. His hands had spread the cheeks apart and allowed his face to nuzzle between them. He felt a cold drip at the tip of his snout and looked at it. The clear fluid had webbed itself from the tip of a bottle of lube which Ricky was quick to grab.

Face remained buried in those cheeks while his hips lifted his uncut length off the sheets. Hands slicked up his veined flesh with cool lube that smacked sloppily in his palm with each slow stroke. Tongue gave a last swipe to the sweet flesh before he leaned back onto his legs. A clean hand reached down and pulled on the rottweiler's hips.

"Turn over dad," Ricky said quietly.

Charles hummed and rolled onto his back, legs lifted to tug his underwear off his body. When the bit of fabric popped off raised feet, they relaxed down on Ricky's shoulders. The doberman had slipped tight between them and rested the foreskin protected head against the tight hole.

"I've wanted this for a long time," Ricky said as he looked down at the sight only seen in his dreams.

Charles's legs wrapped around the doberman's neck and squeezed lightly. Ricky followed their movements as he was tugged forward and gasped when he felt his cock pop through the rottweiler's ass. His hands landed on either side of the rottweiler's shoulders while his hips continued to slip his thick length deeper into the hot, smooth, walls. Balls soon rested below Charles's tail and brought the two men muzzle to muzzle. Their eyes looked into each other until Ricky leaned forward for a kiss. But his lips were stopped by the rottweiler's finger.

"I don't want to miss a moment of your body son," Charles said. The rottweiler brought his hands behind Ricky's neck and held on lightly, "I've waited too long to squander this moment with a kiss. Show me how much you've grown," he said.

Ricky felt his cock grow to steel strength as he dragged his hips back at a slow pace and sunk it back in. Charles's moans were deep and hearty, mature, practiced while the dobermans were more suppressed and muffled whines. Their breaths mingled with each other between snouts as the pace of their fucking hastened quickly. The lust felt between them grew like an inferno with each pap and shlick that echoed off the walls. The scents of arousal mingled and filled the air with a miasma of passion. Charles felt the slick pre-cum of his son begin to collect at his stretched hole and bead down onto his tail. His own pre-seed throbbed in heavy pulses across his stomach and matted the fur in clumps.

The doberman's moans began to grow to growls, hands clutched the rottweiler's legs on either side of his body. Each thrust forward shook the bed, the impact enough to send a pleasurable vibration through the rottweiler. The red shaft began to glow in orange morning light, knotted, it was poised to fire at any moment. The way his father looked as he soaked in the pleasure he gave him made Ricky feel all the more empowered. The way his father clutched the sheets between closed fists, the unmistakable arousal that bounced against his belly, eyes closed in bliss, it was because of him. He finally felt like he had made it as a son, that he was acknowledged, that he had made his father proud.

Charles's eyes opened and head rolled over to look up at his son. The strong sight of the doberman's body was everything he needed. The light that struck the side of his thrusting body was everything he ever wanted, he felt proud to have such a strong son. Proud enough to want to clamp his ass tighter and milk his cock dry. Proud enough to clench tight in climax that rocketed from the tapered tip and smacked the underside of his chin. He grunted and let out a bellow of a moan while his cock shot the thickest load he had in years. The tip of his muzzle became saturated in the thick lust and dripped into his open mouth. Ricky's ears lowered sleek and dominant on the cusp of his own orgasm.

"Oh fuck, dad that is awesome," he complimented and drove himself faster.

"Come on son, give me that seed," Charles said with a satisfied glowing, smile.

Ricky shuddered and began to suck in his breath through clenched teeth. The last few thrusts before the coming flood were hard and filled with leftover lust before they stopped. Hips ground against dimpled cheeks while a warmth suddenly pulsed deep within Charles's stomach. The rottweiler felt his midsection become lit with the hot fluid that pumped into his body. The warmth crawled through him as that load was deposited and seated deeply. Noses flared as the potent, bleachy, scent stifled all others, the rottie's hole leaked a copious amount of white cum. The afterglow swallowed both men who bathed in the warm light of the sun, Ricky's body fell onto Charles. They hugged and kept their connection tight, the doberman's spent shaft didn't seem to want to lose its rigidity. Charles's eyes were caught in a flare of light from his night stand that made his eyes squint. While Ricky licked and nuzzled his neck he turned his neck to allow his son to administer as many love bites as he pleased. Charles's eyes found the source of the sudden reflection of light that shined from the picture frame. The portrait of his wife seemed to smile wider than it had before.