FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was the smells in the air that he enjoyed the most when he woke up. The warm scent of sandalwood floors, never laminated because Mom preferred the rough wood under her feet. The deeply pleasant aroma of mown grass. The light scent of horse dung. The smells of his old home.

Thomas yawned a toothy yawn and pulled the nest of blankets closer around himself, curling up and tucking his nose into his tail. The husky had forgotten how comfortable his old bed was. Such a shame that there wasn't any space in his current apartment for it. He shut his eyes in contentment and dozed, letting the quiet of the morning soothe him. At home -- his new home -- there was always something to jolt him awake at ungodly hours, and he woke up feeling no more rested than when he went to sleep. Hooting cars, arguing neighbours. An overenthusiastic busker. Hell, right after he moved in, they started building across the street, and for six months he'd been woken at five AM sharp by yells and earthmoving equipment. The city never really slept, and so neither did he.

But this was far away from all that. The houses around the lake were mostly getaway homes, unoccupied for the majority of the year. His father was one of the few people who still lived here all year round. It meant he was alone a lot, which Thomas didn't like, but it also meant this gorgeous silence was a fixture. Cradled in warmth, his thoughts began to diffuse and he was just slipping back to sleep when he heard nickering and quiet words outside his window. Riker, his father, was speaking to his horse.

"There you go, boy. You like that, huh? No? Well, tough. Nu-uh, don't shake your head at me like that, you need a good brushing. You've been rolling around in the mud again, and you're filthy. Why don't you wash afterwards like a good horse and make my life easier, huh? I saw a video of some smart horses that climb into their dams and blow bubbles. You could do that, I bet. The lake's not so deep, and you'd be all clean and handsome when you got out..."

There was deep affection in his tone, and Thomas smiled into his tail. Riker had bought the stallion as a colt, not long before his wife passed away. She was the one that had suggested the name Zebra. The stallion didn't have a drop of real zebra blood in him, but his shockingly white mane and tail -- contrasted with his obsidian fur -- made it a natural fit. Riker had diligently trained with Zebra, learning everything he needed to know to take the best possible care of him. He used to talk about someday participating in local competitions, but that had never happened; meanwhile, he'd gained a superbly-trained stallion that was completely devoted to him. Losing his wife had been a difficult time for him, and his son liked to think that the connection his father had made with Zebra had helped him through it.

"I'm gonna be going away for a bit soon, handsome guy," Riker was saying. "Alright? Someone is gonna be coming by tomorrow to pick you up. You'd better behave yourself with them. No kicking, no biting. Please, no pissing on the stablehands. I know you can be a good boy if you want to be. And there will be other horses there, too. You can make some friends. Yeah? Aw, gimme a kiss, you big dumb thing..."

His father was fresh into retirement, and was going to start it by hiking the Appalachian Trail. He didn't believe in taking it easy. He'd been planning for the last year, and Thomas had agreed to come down and help him with the final preparations. After his father had sent him a picture of the hiking shop in town -- filled with inscrutable technological artefacts -- and the message help im lost, it was clear he was needed. He'd arrived late the night before, and slept in his old room. Today, they'd go shopping for supplies and gear, and then spend the rest of the weekend catching up. It was going to be great.

There was a deep chuckle from Riker outside. "Pull that back up right now, you naughty thing. The Andersons are here this weekend, you'll give Susan a heart attack if she comes out to water her petunias and gets an eyeful of that."

Thomas' eyes snapped open, all remaining drowsiness banished in a moment. He had offered to visit to help his Dad out; that was the truth. But not the whole truth. He also had a more selfish reason for wanting to come home again: Zebra.

Life in the city wasn't all study and sleeplessness; Thomas had also met all sorts of interesting characters. One of them had been a bull that he had dated for a little while. On one memorable night, they had gotten completely shit-faced and just hung out naked in Thomas' apartment. The conversation had jumped around until, somehow, Thomas was listening to the bull talk about the time he'd visited a place somewhere in the country. A special place.

With the right contacts, apparently, you could get in touch with the owner. You went down there, paid him cash, and he gave you the use of his stables for the night -- stallion included. The horse would stand there and let you play with him. He liked it; the bull described how he just had to walk into the stable, and the stallion would drop.

"It was massive. I can't even show you..." He waved his arms vaguely, proving that true. "Like, I bet it was as long as my arm, and so thick...just this big fucking salami." He'd blinked blearily, eyes unfocused as the alcohol and the memory took him far away. "And it kept on coming, more and more...fuuuck Tommy, feral horse cock is so big." He had rubbed himself without realising it. "And you can get right down under the stud, and feel it, stroke it...lick it...owner liked to watch, too. He'd just stand there, jerking off. Real horny fuck."

The bull had been too drunk to notice Thomas sliding a couch pillow over his crotch as his story went on, and had passed out shortly after. He didn't recall anything the next morning. Thomas, though, hadn't been able to get it out of his mind since.

As he uncurled from his warm blanket-nest and stood up, the tip of his cock poked out at the memory. He looked down at it. Thinking about horse cock had gotten him all horny, but...he took a quick peek out of the window. The big oak in the backyard blocked his line of sight to Zebra. Dammit. He had no idea if he'd get time alone with Zebra this weekend, so any opportunity to see the stallion's glory needed to be taken.

The slim young husky dressed quickly, thinking about Zebra. He'd seen the stallion's cock many times before he moved away; the horse had been shameless. But, until the bull's story, he'd never paid close attention, never thought about it in that way. It had simply been part of living with a horse. He tried to remember how it looked. Charcoal-black, definitely, and long. Longer than any anthro horse he'd seen, for sure; the bull had been spot on with that. But, to his chagrin, that was all he could recall.

He mulled over this while he hastened downstairs, but when he reached the screen door, he paused. Beyond, standing in the open yard, he could see his father and Zebra. The horse was standing quietly by as his owner worked to neaten him up. The canine's big paws were deftly undoing knots in the stallion's mane, and as each one was removed, he'd give the horse a little encouragement.

"There we go, boy. Almost done. Only a few more. You can go look at yourself in the water after and see, you'll be the most handsome horse around, won't you, yes you will..."

Thomas leaned against the door frame and watched them for a moment. They made quite a striking pair in the morning light. To one side, the older husky, standing a touch over six feet, with strong arms and a bit of a gut. There was still good muscle under there; Riker had worked many demanding jobs in his life and had never lost his strength. The dark fur along his muzzle had silvered with age, even as the lighter fur greyed, giving him a very distinguished look. His tail arced up as only a husky tail could, and his constant horse riding had given him strong thighs. His eyes, though, were his best feature -- as far as Thomas was concerned at least. The husky had a perpetual faint smile on his face, when he wasn't grinning or chortling outright, and his beautiful blue eyes reflected that. Memories stirred in Thomas as he looked at those eyes, but he quickly dismissed them. He needed to stay focused on what he wanted this weekend. Speaking of which...

Standing next to his father, Zebra the stallion filled the space like an inky shadow brought to life. Even though he was a foot shorter than Riker, his incredible colouring gave him a presence that seemed to extend well beyond his skin. He had been brushed down that morning, and he shone in the morning sun like a polished ebony statue. His muzzle was square and mean-looking, and his eyes were two bright and golden moons in the night of his face. The effect made him look like a horse from a dream...or a nightmare. In truth, Thomas knew he was a gentle soul, quick to nuzzle and seek out sugar cubes from anyone that was near. Those eyes met Thomas' now as the horse sensed him at the door, and Zebra nickered at him in greeting. Thomas looked back thoughtfully.

Hello, horsey. How's your dick hanging, I wonder.

As his father turned to see who Zebra was speaking to, Thomas pushed the screen door open and stepped outside. Riker gave him a big, happy grin. "Morning, kiddo!" Thomas smiled back and sauntered over to give his father a hug. Riker grunted in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around his son and gripping him. He rested his muzzle on his son's shoulder and gave a contented sigh. "Was about to come and wake you. Sleep well, handsome?"

"Yeah, Dad, very well," Thomas said, releasing him. His father held him for a couple beats longer, then unwrapped his arms and turned back to working on Zebra's mane. "Forgot how wonderfully quiet it is here. And that bed...I need to figure out a way to get it home. Well, only the mattress. Maybe it will fit through a window or something..." As he spoke, he wandered behind his father, eyeing Zebra out. The horse had pulled himself back up, though, and there was only a quiescent sheath to be seen. Come on, boy, lemme see it.

"I'm sure we can make a plan," said his father, and frowned as he fiddled with the last knot in Zebra's mane. Thomas nodded and made noncommittal noises. Damn, how was he going to get the stallion to drop? He glanced askance at his father. More to the point, get some alone time with him. Perhaps in the evening? The small stable was decently distant from the house.

His father grunted in satisfaction as he finished undoing the final tangle in Zebra's mane. He slapped the horse on the withers. "Right, all done. Off you go, then!" Zebra whinnied and swished his tail. He galloped down to the lake edge and began to crop at the grass with deep, satisfied rumbling sounds. "And don't let me catch you rolling around in the dirt for the rest of the day!" Riker yelled after him. Thomas watched the horse, chewing on a lip and thinking. It was a moment before he realised his father had addressed him. He blinked.

"Oh, sorry Dad, I wasn't listening. What?"

His father smirked at him. "Where was your head, huh?" His eyes flicked down and up Thomas' front; if Thomas hadn't been looking right at him, he wouldn't have noticed. "I bet you were thinking about dick." When Thomas' mouth dropped open in shock, and a red blush ran up his ears, his father gasped and roared with laughter. "You were! Oh, you dirty boy." Thomas felt the heat radiating from his ears and spluttered, looking away as his father chuckled and leered at him.

"Lucky guess," Thomas said. Almost too lucky. Thomas could feel his heart beating faster. For a moment, it had been as if his father could read his mind.

"Come on, then, stud, you gotta share," his father drawled, giving his son a salacious look. "What's his naaame..._is he _cuuute...how big is his diiick..." His grin could not possibly have spread any wider. "Actually, answer that last one first. Over waffles. I got some in the oven. Come on!" He grabbed his son's arm and pulled him inside.

His father was bi. While growing up, Thomas had regularly heard stories about the men and women his father had been involved with before marrying -- usually when his mother was teasing him about his terrible taste. It had made coming out more of a "by the way" than anything else. When he'd come to them to tell them, his mother and father had exchanged a knowing look and said, "oh, we know". And while both his parents had made it clear that they didn't care, and considered him the same person either way, his father had seemed just slightly pleased that his son -- like him -- didn't have the usual sexual tastes.

Soon after that, to Thomas' utter mortification, Riker had started inquiring about his son's sex life. At first, he'd refused; you didn't talk about sex with your dad! But his father hadn't given up. "Thomas," he'd said, "I know it seems weird, but I've seen, sucked and fucked more dicks than you've had hot dinners. And I know exactly how many hot dinners you've had, alright? I just want you to share with me so that I can help you. I know shit."

Thomas had eventually relented -- but that was more due to his dad's persistence than his less-than-convincing argument. He'd told Riker about his first time, and what he'd done with the guy in question. Riker had listened, and nodded, and given the usual parental advice about being safe -- before following up with embarrassingly detailed advice on what to do next time. Thomas had wanted to die from shame, but his advice was rather good, and Thomas even managed to surprise some of his subsequent partners with a few tricks. When they'd asked where he learned to do that, though, he'd decided not to reply with "my dad".

Before long, it didn't feel strange at all. He'd tell his father about the men in his life, and sometimes his father would mention the men he'd been with, way back before he met his wife. Thomas had opened up about his fetishes -- dressing up as a girl, being rimmed -- and so had his father. Dad liked younger guys, and watching men pleasure themselves, or others. Unexpectedly, it had brought them closer together, and Thomas was grateful to his father for breaking down that barrier.

He thought about those first, awkward days as he watched his father annihilate a plate of waffles. Could he...would Dad understand his other secrets? Wearing feminine clothing and being misgendered was one thing, but fondling a horse? It wasn't that he felt shame, exactly, it was just...not something you talked about with people. Even people as understanding as Dad.

Riker saw him looking at him and raised an eyebrow. Thomas shook his head. "Just thinking back about stuff," he said, stabbing a bit of waffle with a fork. He chewed it, then sighed and smiled. "I'm really glad I came to visit, Dad. I've missed you. I love you." His father gave a big dumb grin at that, swallowing his mouthful of food and letting his tongue flop out.

"Missed you too, son!" he enthused. "And love you tons. Can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this visit." He stared at his son adoringly. "It's how it goes, though, huh? All the smart, hard-working kids move to the city to make a big deal out of their lives." He tapped his knife against the porcelain thoughtfully. "Beats me why you left, then, of course." Thomas stuck his tongue out at his father, and the older husky rumbled in amusement. "Speaking of the city," his father continued, taking another bite of waffle, "you still need to tell me about this guy that's got you all hot and bothered." He waggled his eyebrows. "Is it that panther you mentioned? The one with the..." Bits of waffle flew from his mouth as he mouthed thick-ass dick through a massive, shit-eating grin.

Thomas blushed. "Nah." He poked at some syrupy waffle, then put his fork down. "That didn't work out. He was...well, it just didn't work out." They'd wanted different things: he'd wanted the panther, and the panther had wanted the red dragon barista from the coffee shop down the street. It was months past now, though, and he waved a paw to dismiss the topic. "Doesn't matter. How about you? Is the app working out? Still tearing through the twinks like an ass-seeking missile?" Riker snorted dismissively, but it was a fair question...Thomas had enabled it, after all.

Shortly before Thomas had moved away, his father had come to him with a problem. "Thomas, I'm horny as fuck," he said frankly. "Come on, kiddo. Help your dad get laid? Only guys, though -- no woman could ever replace your Mom's fine, fine pussy."

"Dad! Fuck sakes, I don't wanna hear about that!"

Riker had waggled his phone at him. "The faster you help me find some guys to pound, the faster I stop casually mentioning how sexy your Mom was. There's an app for that or something, right?"

There certainly was. Thomas had helped his dad set up a profile with the same app he used, and showed him how to take and post photos. "Here -- cross your arms," he'd said. "Stand up straight. No, straight, c'mon, bend those arthritic limbs a little. Bend your muzzle down a bit. Now gimme a smirk. Okaay...maybe less Hannibal and more The Bachelor. Yeah! Perfect."

They'd sat and watched the views tick up, and the comments roll in.

Murr, greymuzz daddy, you're sexy as fuck. Where u at?

o fuck yes, can i lick dat tailhole daddy

Tall handsome daddy, bet your dick's got a fat knot too, gimme

His father had tried to appear nonchalant, but Thomas had been delighted to see him eyeing the comments with obvious satisfaction. He'd told his father to take a few more intimate pictures later and post them to get even more attention. "You'll be swimming in ass in no time. Twinks love a daddy."

"Oh, I know you do, son," Riker had said, with a knowing smile. He knew Thomas preferred older males. "I only hope their asses are ready for a bit of -- this!" He'd gripped his crotch and massaged it, a filthy look on his face, and they'd laughed.

Now, based on Riker's satyr-like leer, it seemed they'd been more than ready. "Funny you should ask," he said, "because I've got something to tell you," he said. He leaned forward, attempting a serious face. The attempt largely failed. "It turns out...you're not an only child after all, son. I know, I know, I'm just as surprised as you! Seems you've got a whole lot of brothers. Or half-brothers. Not sure. All I know is -- they all called me daddy." He sat back, barely suppressing a snigger, and Thomas rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah," his father continued, "they all loved me." He began ticking off fingers. "Two horses. Ever been with a horse, son?" Not yet. "Horse ass is amazing. So muscular. Then, let's see...six foxe--"

"SIX!?"

"--foxes. Yeah. Foxes love this husky. Um...a bull. A dragon. And...oh yeah! Another husky, too."

Thomas gave his father's list of conquests a thumbs-up. "Nice. The husky was the best, right?"

His father chuckled. "Oh, of course." There was a bit of a pause, and he looked at Thomas with a calculating expression. "Funny thing is, he looked a bit like you..."

Thomas barked in amusement. "That must have been weird, huh? What, like--" In a sudden rush of overconfidence, he held his paws up, under his muzzle, in an innocent wide-eyed pose. "Daddy, daddy, will you fuck me? Oh daddy, rim my tight little hole, please?"

A very strange expression flashed over his father's face, and he coughed on a bit of waffle. Thomas leaned forward in consternation, but his father waved him down. "Bit of thing, down the wrong, um, thing," he said, taking a deep drink from his water glass and avoiding his son's eyes. "Yeah so anyway, kinda done with that all for now. I'll see when I get back from the hike, y'know." He got up and gathered the dishes, dumping them next to the sink and running the water.

Thomas could have kicked himself for his stupid joke. His father seemed flustered. "Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean," his son said, leaning back in his chair, trying to lighten the mood. "I hate it when I get home and there's this long queue of studs that want to fuck. Such a chore." His father gave a wan smile and turned back to scraping off the dishes.

"Think I'm gonna spend a bit of time by myself for a bit," Riker said. "Well, myself and Zebra. Been neglecting him a bit." He finished cleaning and looked across at his son as he dried his paws. "So, we gonna go do that shopping?" There was a subtle change in his mood. He seemed a bit cooler. Thomas did kick himself now, mentally. He considered apologising for the bad joke, but decided that might only make things worse.

He looked out of the window instead, at the big stallion still eating breakfast down at the lake shore. "Zebra looks great, Dad. You're obviously not neglecting him." He got to his feet. Time for business. "Yeah, let's get going. We'll hit the camping store first? I also wanna get some briquettes. Barbecue for dinner, what do you think? It's gonna be a lovely evening. And I saw a place online that sells GPS compasses with built-in location reporting, I think you should get one of those. For when you fall down a ravine and a bear chomps off your legs. How are you with pulling your mauled torso to safety? Do you want to give me the inscription for your tombstone now, or later?"

He ducked as a dishcloth came flying past him.

---

Hours later, they slouched in camping chairs on the back lawn, sated. The warm afternoon hummed with the sound of cicadas, and birds hovered over the lake, watching for ripples. Thomas turned a bottle of ginger beer slowly in one paw and took a sip. His father dozed next to him, his brand-new hiking hat pulled down over his face and a number of empty beer bottles beside him. Off to one side lay a shamble of spars and green nylon; the outcome of their attempt to build the tent.

The hiking store's selection had been even more bewildering than Thomas had expected, and it had taken some time for him to determine what his father truly needed. The process was not helped by a gadfly of a salesperson trying to push the most expensive items on them. Thomas had watched his father's face crumple in dismay as the assistant had rattled off specs about retained heat, wind resistance, and what had felt like hundreds of other statistics -- all of which sounded critical to not dying. Riker's eyes had eventually glazed over, staring at the erected example tents -- with their spiderwebs of guy ropes, pegs that looked like torture devices, and tarps of various hideous colours -- with a profoundly hopeless expression.

"What if I pick the wrong one?" he'd asked, twisting the tip of his tail back and forth as he did when he fretted. "I don't want to freeze to death on some mountaintop!"

"He's just trying to upsell you," Thomas replied with confidence, while only moderately sure of that himself. "But I know what we can do. We'll test it out tonight, how about that? Put the tent up in the back yard, have a nice little camp-over, make S'mores. It'll go perfectly with the barbecue. If it's no good, you can bring it back next week, and get another." His father nodded and looked relieved at the suggestion. Thomas fell into a chair, and mimed roasting a marshmallow over the small gas cooker in front of it. "You never took me camping when I was a kid, right?"

"We almost did," said his father, pulling a guy rope and making it twang, "but you were kind of a brat, and your mother was sure you'd run off and get lost, and then we'd need to organise a search party. Too much work. So, you ruined it for all of us, thanks, son."

"Sounds like lazy parenting to me."

"A millennial calling me lazy, what a plot twist." He dropped into the chair next to Thomas. "Anyway, we ended up getting the rowboat instead."

"Oh wow, the rowboat! I haven't thought about that in years! What happened to it?"

"Sold it after you moved. I never really liked boats." Riker bounced up and down a bit in the camping chair. "This is quite nice..."

"Oh. Well. Bye bye, rowboat."

"You did use it a lot, huh? I remember. Always thought you might want to be a sailor. Although that'd have been a bit on the nose with you being a big ol' gay and all."

"Only trying to take after you, Daddy dearest." Thomas rubbed the back of his head. "Actually, the middle of the lake was one of the few places that I could read my porn mags and jerk off without worrying that you guys might walk in on me. Or that Mom might find a cummy t-shirt." It had also given him a secret love of the illicit, of doing things he shouldn't. It was certainly a factor in his desire to experiment with a horse. He never knew if any of the lakeside dwellers had ever used binoculars to spy on the young husky boy, masturbating out in the middle of the lake, but he'd secretly hoped so.

Riker barked in amusement, startling an old goat nearby. "That explains it!" He nodded. "I wondered why someone had left copies of Butt Boys in the emergency compartment when I was cleaning it out. I couldn't think what sort of emergency would need pictures of otters being fucked by stags."

"Fap-mergencies? And sorry about that, I thought I got them all."

His father smiled. "It's fine. You had good taste. I had fun looking through them." He'd pointed at a neon-green tent. "I think I hate this one the least. And let's take these chairs too, they're comfy. Where's the sales dude gone?"

They'd lugged the endless pounds of gear and supplies back home. Assembling the tent had proven a little trickier than expected, and they'd eventually left it as a sad pile of material and got the barbecue going instead. Now, with stomach full and afternoon waning, Thomas sighed in contentment and pushed himself to his feet. He poured the remainder of his drink over the coals, eliciting an angry hiss, waking his father.

"Hm?" Riker yawned widely. "Whassat?"

"Just putting out the fire, Dad." He walked back to his chair and sat down again.

"Shouldn't have let me nap, Thomas," his father said sleepily. "Maybe had too many beers..."

"Sorry, Dad," said Thomas absently. He turned his head at some sudden hoof-falls. Zebra had wandered over at the puff of steam from the fire and was sniffing at the pile of tent material.

"No, Zebra, leave it, that's not grass," said Riker, but the horse had established that for himself already. He gave the two huskies a withering equine look, then clopped over to stand right in their field of view, not moving. Thomas took a deeper breath, letting his eyes casually settle on the horse's underside. Nothing much to see but sheath, again. He only had experience with canine sheaths, though, and Zebra's sheath was huge by comparison. It was irrational to feel dick-shamed by a feral horse -- even anthro horses couldn't match up to them -- but he did anyway. They were just so...much. He took in the full creature, only steps away, with all his senses.

The air was dead still, and Zebra's scent was easy to make out. He had a pleasant smell right now, like fresh wood chips. Thomas knew his father spread them in the stables as flooring. The horse's coat and mane still gleamed from the morning's attention, and his tail hairs caught the sinking sun, transmuting their paleness to strands of gold. His powerful muscles -- good thoroughbred stock -- stood out across his body, especially his chest. When he nickered to himself, it was a deep and rumbling baritone, like a purring engine. He was a very handsome horse, all told, and Thomas casually squirmed to hide himself as he felt himself begin to get aroused.

"Uh, sorry Thomas. He does this..."

Thomas was about to ask what he meant when he saw it: a fat black bulb, squirming out of the opening of Zebra's sheath. His breath caught in his throat. One or two more inches of horse dick followed. There, Zebra paused, and moments later a thick stream of pungent piss streamed out.

"Zebraaa!" yelled his father, growling in exasperation. "C'mon, we're right here. Fucking stallions..." He sighed. "I mean, maybe if either of us liked watersports, but else it's plain annoying..." He gave his son a sidelong look. Thomas was distracted, trying hard not to give any indication that he was enjoying this.

The horse ignored his owner and finished his business. He nickered, looking around at them, and the lake, clearly not interesting in going anywhere. Instead of pulling up, his still-dripping cock lengthened instead. It slithered down until several more inches of night-black stallion dick were swaying in the air. Thomas was glad he'd finished his drink already; he might have choked on some at the sight. He ran his eyes over it, taking note of little details. How had he not seen how gorgeous it was before? The way the skin looked matte, but also a little bit shiny. The obvious sponginess of the deflated flare. The huge urethra; he was almost sure he could have fit his finger into it. Damn, how would that even feel...

"Thomas?"

Thomas jumped at his father's voice. "Huh? Sorry. What'd you say?" His eyes flicked back to the cock without thinking, and then immediately away again, landing on his father's face. The older husky stared back at him with a curious expression, and then his face split into a grin, immediately followed by a bellow of laughter.

"It's a hell of a thing, huh?" His father nodded at the stallion's glory. "Horse cock. Making everyone feel inadequate since forever. Who wouldn't want one if they had the chance, though, right?" He cracked open yet another beer and looked curiously at his son as he drank. "I bet you would, you little perv."

You have no idea, Thomas thought. He would have called the look his father was giving him a leer, if it wasn't his Dad making it. While teasing him about looking at his pet stallion's cock. Fuck. Thomas was sure the blush extended right to the very end of his fur, and that he now looked like a big fluffy tomato.

"Your Mom hated it," Riker mused, taking a sip of his drink. "I mean -- well he's just an animal, he does what comes naturally. But...heh. There's something about it. It does things to people." His grin grew. "That silly horse would be wandering around the back while she's doing the dishes or whatever, slapping his belly, being the stud, making sure he can be seen through the windows, and she'd come to me with that look in her eye--"

"Aw, come on, Dad! I don't wanna hear this!" He really didn't, but at the same time, a small thrill was running through him. Not about his parents getting frisky -- ew, ew, ew -- but about the idea of Zebra, wandering around, showing himself off. Not a care in the world. I am stallion, see my cock. So bold and brash. So confident. It excited him. But, something else his father had said had caught his attention. It was a little on the nose, given his plans for the weekend, but he had to know...

"What do you mean, slapping his belly?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh. Well, I mean, horses masturbate, you know?" Thomas hadn't, and shook his head. This was incredible news. "Yeah, so, like"--his father adjusted in his chair, turning a little to face his son-- "they drop like Zebra there, okay -- dropping is when their dick comes out of the sheath -- and then they get themselves hard, and then they tug on their groin muscles and make their dicks jerk up and it slaps against their belly." He held out a forearm and demonstrated with his other paw, making a slapping noise. Thomas nodded in understanding, quickly looking away from both his father and the stallion and crossing his legs a little more. Fuck, what a hot thing to think about. Horses jerking themselves off. Horses and those big dicks. Horses fucking furs. Shit. Just the idea was almost enough to make him...

"Come, son."

Thomas snapped back to reality. His father was standing up, looking at him quizzically.

"Uh?"

Riker chuckled. "So distracted today, huh? I said, come. Stop dreaming about being hung like a horse. Let's finish making this tent." He stood up, but then snapped his fingers. "No. Actually. Fuck this thing. I'm not hiking yet, I want to enjoy my real bed tonight. We can try again tomorrow." He looked at Thomas and seemed to come to a decision. He started unbuttoning his shirt. "It's really warm," he said, in answer to his son's querying expression, "and the beers haven't helped. I'm going to take a swim. You?" Thomas looked into his baby-blue eyes, peripherally aware of his father's paws moving down his chest, button by button.

"Uh, I guess. I didn't bring swimming trunks, though..." said Thomas, trying not to be distracted as Riker's corded arms swept backwards, shucking the now-loose shirt off. The body being revealed was very impressive, and his father could have passed for a husky ten years younger, grey fur notwithstanding. He was a decidedly attractive creature.

His father shrugged. "Who needs 'em?" With a grin, he undid his jeans, and kicked them off, then put his paws on his hips and struck a superhero post. "Huskies are creatures of the water! That's why we have all this thick fur and no webbed feet!" Thomas blushed and looked away, but not before getting an eyeful of his father's sheath, complete with peeking red rocket. The memories came unbidden.

Around the time when Thomas had first gotten his father onto the dating app, he'd been flipping through the profiles himself one night when he landed on his dad's profile. He'd swiped left, of course...eventually. He'd first looked at the handsome, grinning face for a while, feeling a little sad and homesick. His date that night had been a disaster, and he was annoyed and lonely. He missed his dad; if he were there, they could have talked about what an asshole the cheetah had been. Dad would have made him feel better, like he always did. But Dad wasn't there. Dad had only been on the app that night.

"It's fine, son, really," Riker said, dropping his paws. He had completely misunderstood the cause of Thomas' unease, but Thomas couldn't exactly tell him that. "Nobody's gonna see us. And like I said...dicks like Zebra's make things happen." He pointed half-heartedly at his chubby sheath. "It's natural. Don't be shy."

Shyness was not the problem. The problem was that one night, ages ago, when his loneliness and horniness had made a devil's pact, and he'd found himself scrolling down his father's profile. Right to the bottom, below the cut-off...to the "Adult" section. It turned out that his dad had done as he'd suggested and taken a few more revealing pictures of himself. A small part of Thomas hadn't wanted to stare; a much bigger part had. The pictures were hot. One had been of his sire's sheath and balls, with a paw cupping them to show them off. They were impressive: weighty, with a line of dark grey fur running right down the centre of the sack. Thomas' own hefty pair must have been a gift from Dad. Another had been of a husky rear: bent over, a paw gripping the tail and pulling up on it, showing off a large, pink husky tailhole.

Thomas had tried to forget that night, but it was like trying to forget perfection. "Uh...yeah, no, it...it's fine, Dad," he said faintly, then coughed to make his voice sound normal. Thomas felt weird, but at the same time, the feeling of doing something naughty -- forbidden, even -- was growing. And he liked it. He began to undress. His father was standing casually to the side. They did not speak. Thomas could feel that he was very erect now, but his father was hardly soft himself. When Thomas pants dropped and Little Thomas bobbed out, he gave an apologetic shrug. "Yeah, uh, sorry."

His father smiled back. "Nothing to apologise for, son. Race you to the water?" Thomas nodded, and when his father went down on all fours, so did he. They looked at one another, and Riker could have sworn his dad's eyes flickered briefly to between his son's legs. He was embarrassed at the thrill that ran through him at the thought. Then Riker started counting down. "Three...two...one!"

They leapt off, raced across the grass, and Riker let loose a wild howl of joy. Thomas howled back, and then laughed. It felt fantastic, freeing, breaking a small but significant social rule. Running naked across the lawn, helter-skelter, not caring who saw or what they'd say. Fuck 'em all! Muscles pumping and paws pounding, he quickly glanced across at his father. Riker was ahead, eyes fixed determinedly on the lake in front of them. Thomas growled and pushed harder, but it had been a while since he'd run on all four limbs. It took a bit more coordination, and a lot more focus. He gained on his father, though. The lake was right there, and they were neck and neck, until--

"Nice cock!" his father yelled.

Thomas' focus disintegrated, and with it, his coordination. A front paw went down on the wrong spot and tripped up his back leg. In an instant, he was transformed from a black and white missile into a jumbled ball of fur that tumbled helplessly forward, splashing into the lake with all the grace of a newly-christened submarine. He gasped in shock and got a mouthful of gritty lake water for his trouble. He pushed upwards with panicked strokes, and his head broke the water. Immediately, the sound of his father's laughter filled his ears. He spat out the water and shook his head, clearing the water from his ears.

His father looked on with a saintly look. "So...I win?"

Thomas took into a mouthful of water and spat it at him. "Ass."

"No, dick." His grin was as dirty as they came. "Heh. I knew it would distract you. You're so easy, son! And now I get all the prizes!" He slapped his arms against the water happily, splashing the two of them, and Thomas splashed back, and giggled.

"Well, if I'd known we were playing dirty, I could have done the same!"

"Oh yeah? You'd tell your old dog that he's got a nice dick?"

Yes. The word was right there, only a mistake away. His lips were spread to say it. He knew his father had a nice dick. He'd seen it. The final picture of his Dad's gallery: a perfect shot of his impressive and very erect cock, straining upward, with a thick knot at its root. It had been -- it was -- magnificent. Thomas didn't know how long he'd ended up staring at it back then, only that when he'd realised how hard it was making him, he'd swiped left so hard that he'd knocked the phone out of his paw and sent it skittering off along the floor.

But as he looked at his Dad now, he felt the shame descending again. He needed to stop thinking about this, about his dad, the husky that made him, like that. It was wrong. So, instead, he stuck his tongue out at his father, said something about getting clean, and swam a bit deeper into the lake. Hopefully the murkier water would help hide his erection. Zebra might have started it, but it was being kept alive by something else now. Two secret desires, mixing into a cocktail of lust and shame. Not that this was anything as shameful as what he'd done that night, months ago.

He'd always had a bit of a crush on his father. The big, strong husky was so friendly and lovable, and completely devoted to his family. What wasn't to like? And of course, he couldn't actually date his dad. But Thomas had ended up dating a lot of guys that were daddies, and maybe...well, maybe things had gotten a bit mixed up when he'd seen the pictures of a man he admired and loved so much, looking so hot and desirable. He had swiped off the profile, sure. And he'd written it off as hormones and tiredness. But that had been a tough sell, thanks to the fattening of his sheath. He'd waited a while, expecting it to go away. Problem was, it hadn't.

That evening, it hadn't been the noises outside that kept him awake. It had been the mental image of Dad's red-veined cock and swollen knot. He'd lain there for ages, trying to sleep and failing. Eventually -- desperate -- he'd pulled out one of his toys and started playing with himself. That had helped...until he was about to orgasm. His ass had tightened around the latex bulb, he'd gripped his cock, and a soft, unexpected "Daddy..." had come out of his lips.

He'd cum so hard, it had shot right over his head and hit the wall.

Thomas watched his father now, unable to shake the memories. The beefy husky was scrubbing his fur clean of the day's smoke and sweat. He was humming loudly and ducking under the water every so often, then re-emerging with a whale-like expulsion of air and water. The water ran down his face, along the handsome grey of his muzzle, and dripped off his nose. When he shook his head to get the water off, his fur stood out in crazy bunches, as if he'd been electrocuted in a cartoon. He was only being himself, basically, and it was adorable.

When he saw his son watching him, he grinned, looking around them. "Feels kinda naughty, doesn't it?"

Thomas's stomach jumped a bit. "Uh...what do you mean?" Something about the way Riker had said it was unusual. As if there was a second, unspoken question under the first.

"This. Us." He pointed between the two of them. Thomas stared back, and then Riker added, "Skinny dipping."

"Oh! Oh right. Yeah, it does, heh." His dad's arms were so nice. Thomas suddenly couldn't look away from them. So strong...and with the water smoothing down his father's fur, the musculature stood out even more. He gave the best hugs with those arms. Pressed you right against his chest and belly. Made you feel so safe, so cared for.

"...what did you think I meant?" his father queried, scrubbing an armpit with one arm in the air. Again, that hint of an unspoken question under it. The water was warm, but a tiny shiver ran through Thomas, and he looked away quickly. He was imagining it.

"Nah, nothing, Dad." Almost certainly imagining it. The only sound now was the soft slapping of the waves they made against the shore. Possibly...possibly not imagining it? "I mean...I thought..."

"...yeah, son?"

"Can we...can I get a hug?" Not what he actually wanted to say, at all. His father nodded and held out his arms. Thomas paddled closer and slid his arms under his father's big, hairy armpits. Riker settled around him, huge and gorgeous and fatherly. Thomas nuzzled against his chest, and Riker squeezed him tightly. He felt so good; his body heat was like a furnace, despite the water. They actually fitted together so snugly; Thomas had never realised that. But they could be closer yet...

He shifted himself, and his erection pressed against his father's. As soon as their sheaths met, Riker froze, then took an awkward step back. "Sorry!" Thomas blurted. His dad seemed a bit flushed and confused; either way, he didn't answer. Shit. No. Shit. You fucking moron, what are you doing? "Gonna, um, go inside," Thomas stammered, and without waiting for an answer, splashed to shore. Fucking fuck. You sicko. Dad's not into you. It's your stupid fucking imagination and if he starts asking questions it's gonna all come out and you're gonna go to fucking jail.

He heard his father following him and sped up a bit. He felt ashamed and scared. "I'm gonna go shower!" he yelled over his shoulder, distressed to hear his voice cracking. The screen door slammed against its stopper with a crash as he rushed inside heedlessly. Taking the stairs two at a time, his claws clacking loudly against the wood, he ran into the bathroom and slammed the door closed.

"Thomas, wait..." came his father's call. He sounded upset. Fuuuuuck. Thomas felt tears coming on. He locked the bathroom door with a trembling paw and collapsed onto the floor, taking deep breaths. He heard the screen door open again downstairs, and then nothing. He quickly reached over and turned on the shower. As the sound of the water filled the room, like a shield, the tears arrived. He gave small, choked sobs. This was a disaster. He had no idea how he was going to explain himself to his father. If he was lucky, he'd shrug it off. If he wasn't...

"Thomas? Son?"

Riker was right at the door. Thomas shut his eyes as hard as he can and tried to make his voice sound normal. "Fine, Dad." He didn't sound fine, and he knew it. Please don't ask, Dad, please just let it go, I can't have this conversation.

There was a sigh, and the sound of a large husky bumping against the door and then sliding down it. "Fuuuuuck..." His father sounded so pained. Thomas stared at the shadow under the door, miserable and afraid. "Son, I know you're not really showering. We need to talk." Thomas gave a loud sob, expelled before he could stop it, and the door handle turned as his father tried it. "Thomas? Oh, son, please don't cry, it's fine, it's fine, we can talk..."

"I'm sorry, Dad!" Thomas wailed. "I'm so fucked up, I'm sorry, I didn't...please...please don't hate me. I didn't mean to...I don't want to, to lose you..." Tears blurred his vision, and he gave a long, low whine of desperate sadness. He heard his father turning around quickly, feet scrabbling on the floor.

"Thomas, no, boy, no, never, never! Please open the door, it's not what you think, I know, I know! I wasn't sure you...I know, son! About the -- the app. The thing. Please, son, let me in, please."

Thomas sat for a long moment as that piece of information tried to settle in. His father knew. But...since when? And he'd not said anything?

Carefully, he reached for the door and unlocked it. Immediately, his father opened it. He looked worried, but when he saw his son's bedraggled face, his own expression crumpled and he knelt down to pull Thomas into his arms, gripping him tight. He didn't say anything, and after a moment, Thomas put his arms around him too. When he felt his father's body shaking a little, he at first thought he was laughing...until he heard the crying. He hugged him back and felt his own tears coming again. Between the heaving breaths, Riker managed to fit some words.

"I'm sorry, son, so sorry, I should have said something. I was scared, and I didn't know what it meant, and I thought I knew, but I saw you and...I was unsure, and then I was sure, and then I wasn't, and I still don't fucking know, I don't know, but I love you, alright? Forever. Nothing's gonna change that. If you're fucked up then so am I. You never need to be afraid. I will never leave you. I love you. I...I love you_._"

Thomas' heart leapt at those final words, their tone and meaning unmistakable, and his fingers curled into his father's wet fur. "I...Me too, Dad" he responded thickly. "I love you so much." He felt his father's head bobbing in agreement, even as both of them continued to cry and sniffle. But Thomas' blood was on fire now, as relief and disbelief replaced sickening worry, and then he was laughing, not crying any longer, and looking at his father's face, and his father was grinning back at him with those deep, handsome eyes, and moving closer, closer...

The kiss was long, and gentle, and perfect. Riker tasted of beer and spit and mossy lake water, and it was the most wonderful taste in the world. It wasn't a long kiss, because Thomas' raging erection poked into his father's sheath and interrupted them. Riker broke off the kiss to glance down with a merry chuckle. "Nice to see you again," he said, then looked back at his blushing son. He cupped the side of his face with a soft paw. "Come downstairs, beautiful," he murmured. "Let me explain."

---

"...so, the Premium version shows you how long someone looked at a photo?"

"Yep."

"That's kind of creepy."

"Maybe. But aren't you glad it did?"

Thomas smiled. "Heh. Yeah, sure am. Five stars for them."

They sat on the couch, still naked, fingers intertwined, bodies pressed close together. Riker was showing his son the dating app, and all of the interesting data it exposed to top-tier customers. He'd known Thomas had looked at his profile way back, and that he'd done so for nearly three hours, and that most of that had been spent looking at his nude pictures. He'd known ever since it happened. He simply hadn't believed it had meant what he thought.

"I was sure it must be a glitch, right. So, I asked them, and they swore the data was right. And then I was...afraid." He tossed his phone onto the table and shifted to look at his son.

"Because you'd raised a dirty pervert?"

The head-shake was emphatic. "No! No, almost the opposite." Riker stroked the fur on the back of his son's paw. "I mean, I got such a fright when I saw it was you, but not because it was you. Because of how I felt. My son, looking at my nudes, for hours?" His tongue slipped out, then back in. "It was so sweet. So...hot." The last word was a little huskier than the rest. "I don't know why, Thomas, but I thought about you looking at your dad's nudes, and..." His eyes glanced down to Thomas' sheath. "Playing with that. With what Dad gave you." His chest rode out and in as he took a long, deep breath. Thomas was wide-eyed, every word of the conversation running along his nerves like electricity. His father shrugged. "Well, it made me so fucking hard, son. I felt like a piece of shit, but I couldn't help it." He leaned in. "I wanted you, Thomas," he whispered. "Not as a son, not like it is now, but as a lover." Thomas whined, flattening his ears. His cock was at full mast.

His father sighed again. "But then I got scared again. The feelings were so strong, urgent. I thought, what if it's a mistake, what if you left your phone around, what if a boyfriend was perving over me and not you? And then you told me about the panther over the phone the one day and I thought, that's it, the panther did it. Not him. But...it didn't change how I felt." He smiled and tapped Thomas on the nose. "You know, huh? So...figured the app got me into that state, maybe the app could get me out. Hunted around for a husky that looked like you, asked him over." Thomas bit his lip, and Riker's eyes locked onto it. He gave an appreciative moan. "Fuck, son...that's hot." His paw stroked down Thomas' chest, and when he reached his sheath, he gripped it and squeezed. His son yipped, and his eyes glazed over.

"Got that other twinky husky out here one night," Riker continued, massaging Thomas' sheath. "Made him dress up for me. Made him call me nothing but 'daddy'. I was ashamed how rock-hard it made me, but I couldn't stop." He slid his paw up from Thomas' sheath to his knot and squeezed hard. Thomas yipped. "Bent him over this very couch, son, and fucked him over and over again. Every time I'd come, and fill his tight hole, he'd say...'Fuck me again, daddy', and he looked so much like you and I couldn't say no and I'd get hard immediately, and, ugh, fuck, son..." He was breathing heavily now and rubbing his paw up and down Thomas' cock. "The whole time, boy, I wanted it to be you under me. Gripping me. Being fucked by daddy's dick."

He released Thomas' member and stood up. Thomas looked up in awe as his father towered over him. "Oh, Dad...you're so beautiful..." he said. He had no idea what else to say, but his eyes fell to the hard erection bobbing between them. He gripped it, making his father growl and arch backwards, and the words came. "I want that too, daddy. I dreamed about it so many times...about you..." He could barely focus on one thing for more than a few seconds. The feel of his father's cock, slick from precum. The smell of him, as fur dried and musk took over. The...the look of him. So big, and masculine. His gut hanging out a bit, nestled atop the thick cock which stuck out like a flagpole. Those arms, and the friendly, handsome, grey-furred face that looked down on him now with the most exquisite melding of love and lust and adoration. Thomas was so happy, he almost wanted to cry. He slid his paw up and down the canine member.

"Let me be yours, Dad, please," he begged. "I want this"--he squeezed his dad's cock-- "in me. Fuck me, Dad, please. I want to be fucked by you, filled by you, mated by you." He stuck out his other paw to cup his father's balls, stroking a thumb across their furred extent, and looked up at his tall sire. The older husky was watching his face, eyes roving across it. He grinned and gestured for his son to stand, taking his paws in his own, and a tear glistened in the corner of his eye, like a tiny imperfection in a sapphire.

"I can't say how happy that makes me, son," he said. "I want to fuck you too, so fucking much, and I will." He paused. "But...will you do two things for me first?" Thomas nodded eagerly, and his father gently held his head between his paws. "First...will you go put on your nice clothes? You did bring, right?" Thomas nodded again. "Yeah...the clothes that make you feel like a pretty girl." The misgendering made Thomas flush with happiness. "And secondly, don't call me dad anymore, son. Call me daddy."

"Oh, yes, daddy! Of course!" He was daddy's boy, after all. Riker kissed his nose, and then kissed him on the mouth again.

"You're daddy's good boy. Go get dressed very quickly, and come back here so daddy can..." He paused, his expression one of complete disbelief. "So that daddy can fuck you hard, son." He laughed. "I'm actually able to say that. Holy fuck." He laughed again and then stroked Thomas' head. "Go on, beautiful. You want daddy's dick, don't you?"

Thomas sprinted to his room and back in record time. He wanted his father's dick like it was the air he breathed. When he descended the stairs, he had on a medium length red skirt, white stockings, and a tight-fitting blouse. It hugged his thin body and tucked into the top of the skirt.

When his father saw him, his mouth dropped open, and his cock jerked. Thomas smiled shyly and approached with short, teasing steps. His father's eyes were as wide as moons. When they were alongside one another again, he lifted his paws and held them right above Thomas' clothes, moving them slowly about. Never touching.

"Am I pretty, daddy?" asked Thomas. The bestial look he got back from his father answered the question.

"You're my pretty little girl. Yes, you are." The older husky was almost speaking to himself. "I always wanted a girl, you know...a boy and a girl, both. Never expected I'd get so lucky as to have both in one." Thomas squirmed with pleasure whenever his father called him his pretty girl. He loved being pretty. He wanted to show off.

"Look, daddy!" he exclaimed, bending over and pulling up his skirt just enough to show that he had no underwear on. "I didn't wear my panties. So we caAAAaahhhh...!" His words transformed midway into a gasping cry, as his father's knees thudded to the carpet and his muzzle drove into the musky cleft between his son's ass-cheeks. Thomas braced himself against the couch as his sire pushed hard against him, wet nose snuffling up and down. It felt fantastic, and he pushed back into it. "Daddy...tongue..." he gasped, and squealed like a girl when the long, limber husky tongue slapped against his flesh. "Oooooh..." Thomas loved a good rimming, and his father certainly knew all the spots to hit. His whines of joy were balanced by the rough, low growls his father was making behind him. They only made Thomas even hornier.

His father gripped Thomas' cheeks in his paws and pulled them apart, pushing his nose right up against the soft, spasming muscle of his anus and breathing deep. "Love your smell, beautiful," he muttered, and Thomas giggled. His eyes lidded over when his father lapped at him repeatedly, sliding all the way up from right above his taint, to the top of his crack. He growled as he went, and the warm breath combined with the cold spit made Thomas shudder and gasp. Everything the rough tongue did, felt incredible, and Thomas hoped it never ended -- and then Riker probed his hole with the tip of his tongue.

His submissive instincts kicked in, and he relaxed his hole, letting his father stick his tongue a bit deeper. But then he withdrew, only for a finger to replace it moments later. The fat digit squirmed inside, massaging as it went, and Thomas' head fell down loosely. "Oh daddy, yes, finger me deeper, please, daddy, fuck, fuuuuck, it's so good." His father growled and responded by forcing the rest of the finger inside. He turned it, and then gently scratched at just the right angle to hit his son's prostate. Thomas cried out as a jolt of pleasure burst from inside him, and Riker chucked deeply.

"You're amazing, son. Everything about you...you smell so good, you taste delicious, you sound hot as fuck..." He probed again, harder, making Thomas scream in ecstasy. "That how you used to sound when you snuck off to wank in the boat, beautiful?" Again, and again he pushed his son's love-button, bringing forth a whole range of sounds.

Thomas was shaking a little now as his body began to succumb to the prostate teasing. He turned his head a bit and begged. "Please, daddy, don't stop, it's so good." He got a second finger for that and groaned in wordless bliss. The finger-fucking was his whole world now. The two fingers were stretching him pleasantly already, but he knew he could take more. A lot more. "More, daddy...deeper, harder...oh fuck...I want your dick now, daddy, I want your beautiful thick dick and your amazing knot, just like I dreamed, just like I imagined when I fucked myself, daddy. Please, daddy! Please fuck me now!"

His father's fingers had slowed their actions as his gabbled his horny demands, and at his final exhortation, they pulled roughly out. With a snort, his father's body dropped onto him and his arms wrapped around his chest, holding him up and keeping him from collapsing under the weight. "Who knew you were such an irresistible slut, son?" Riker muttered. His muzzle was right at Thomas' ear, and the young husky could hear him grunt and whine as his hips jerked and thrust, seeking their target. The hard point of his father's cock dug painfully into his flesh two, three, four times -- and then found his hole.

The first several inches went in easily, but then -- through some Herculean feat of willpower -- Riker stopped. He seemed to realise that with only spit to lubricate his son's entrance, he needed to give Thomas a bit of time to adapt. Thomas was already on another plane, though, and didn't even notice the pause. He murred happily from the feel of that little bit of his father's cock in him, and swayed gently under him, stroking their fur together. Riker nuzzled at Thomas' ear, and spoke gently, his voice thick and full of emotion.

"You're so wonderful, Thomas. This is more than I ever thought would happen. I love being in you. You're so hot, son, and tight...and so beautiful in those pretty clothes. My beautiful little girl, taking my dick like a fucking champion. But I don't want to hurt you, son, alright? You're in control. Are you ready for me? All of me? Are you ready to get fucked by the cock that created you, handsome?"

Thomas could hardly respond. Beyond the physical pleasure of their union, the emotional bond of it being his father -- the best father in the world, his daddy, his amazing wonderful daddy -- was completely overwhelming him. He began to cry a little, and Riker's arms tightened in concern. "What's wrong, beautiful? Am I hurting you?" Such tenderness and concern in his voice. Thomas' heart nearly burst.

"No! Daddy, no, no, it's perfect, you're perfect, it's so..." He didn't have the words, so instead he gripped down on Riker's dick with his body. "I'm ready, daddy, so ready. I want all of you, please. Mate me, daddy, make me yours." Then, after a brief pause, and in a lower voice. "You can be rough, daddy." Thomas liked it a bit rough; it was partly why he went for daddy types. They were so strong.

Riker took a sharp breath, and when he next spoke, it was in rougher, more dangerous tones that made Thomas' balls clench in anticipation. "Alright, beautiful. Just like you say. Daddy will be rougher with his sexy, pretty little girl." His paws slid about Thomas' chest and belly, making sure he had a solid hold on him, and his mouth moved closer. With a sudden growl, he nipped his son's ear, making him yelp and tighten his muscles -- and then Riker thrust hard into him.

Thomas howled, as canines had howled forever. His father's cock drove into him, forcing him open without pause or mercy. The spike of pain was brutal, but he quickly relaxed again after the shock of the bite on his ear, and the thick flesh powered through. Riker sunk inside his son, not trying for finesse or pleasure, thrusting his hips as hard as he could, trying to bury the fullness of his bone within his son. Thomas lifted his head and pressed it against his father's muzzle, needing to feel him. "Ohhhh daddy yes, fuck yes, mate me, fuck me, tie me, fill me, harder, deeper, more, daddy, more..." They grunted together on each thrust, Riker's deeper voice enveloping his son's softer, more feminine one.

If Thomas had thought the fingering was heaven, he did not know what realm he was being transported to now. The sensations were fantastic; thick cock pushing in and pulling out, rubbing along his muscle and the nub of his prostate. The mass of his father-lover on top of him, and around him. The thick smell of him, pure male musk, as his rut grew stronger. Thomas had never had a fuck like this before. As his father sprayed him liberally full of his pre-cum, the motion smoothed and sped up, until Riker's hips must have been a blur from the rate they were thrusting in and out of him. His father met no more resistance in his quest to fuck his son's ass as fast and as hard as possible. Riker muttered to Thomas as they mated; dirty, lascivious things that made Thomas quiver and gasp and drip with pre. He wasn't speaking, only moaning and crying out. Demanding harder fucking from his mate. Daddy was a raunchy, dirty animal -- his animal. He loved it. He didn't want this to end, but it must. There was something else Thomas wanted even more.

When he felt their weighty balls begin to smack together, he knew it was close. When the older husky slammed home with an especially hard and deep thrust, Thomas finally felt it: the mass of his knot, like a battering ram at the gates. His stomach knotted in fear and exhilaration. Dad's knot had looked bigger than any he'd tried before. He knew it would hurt, but he also desired it more than anything. A nice thick penis, deep inside him, felt incredible and could satisfy him -- but he was a canine. He craved the knotting. He needed that powerful binding, that physical expression of his sexual domination...and his father could sense it.

"Please knot me, daddy," Thomas begged, leaving nothing to the imagination. "I want to be yours, completely. I want to be filled with your seed...the seed that made me. From the dick that made me." He almost came simply from saying it. It seemed to have a similar effect on his father; his paw slid up, gripping one of Thomas' nipples and squeezing it hard. Thomas groaned.

"You want my knot, son? Daddy's fat knot? You better be sure, beautiful, because once it's in, it's staying in. I'll be in you for a very long time, pumping you full of baby-batter. All your brothers and sisters that will never be, swimming vainly deep into your ass."

It was too much. Something opened up inside the submissive puppy, and he found himself snarling at his father. "Just fuck me, Riker! Mate your son! Nail my ass and knot me like the fucking bitch I am!"

Riker snarled in response and slammed against Thomas' entrance with renewed vigour. Thomas swore and growled as the thick ball of flesh pummelled him, trying to relax enough to let it in. It was so big. His ring grew wider and wider from the assault, until -- with a final yowl of lust from his father -- it was past the ring. Thomas raised his own muzzle and gave a howl of ecstasy as it bloated his passage in the most wonderful way. His father's body shook above him, and he whimpered, and then the sharp bite of the knot's stretching of his muscles was soothed by a new and liquid heat, deep inside.

"Sorry son, oh fuck, it's too much, you're so hot and tight and fuck..." His father's apologies weren't needed; as he pumped him full of his cum, Thomas exulted in their union, sealed as only two males could. He grabbed his neglected dick, hard as stone without being touched, and pumped it; he only needed seconds to peak, spraying himself messily across the couch and floor. If his father hadn't been supporting him, his spasming muscles would have made him collapse.

The two huskies heaved and gasped for air as their coupling came to a close. Riker's knot was deep inside his son, perfectly locking in the seed he continued to squirt inside. Thomas' cock remained hard, dripping the last dregs of his own climax into the puddle below him. Riker's arms held him tight, and he lifted his son's face towards him for a tender kiss. Their tongues entwined, their eyes closed, and their bodies mated, Riker and his son floated along in a world of love.

Thomas broke the kiss eventually, and gave a long, satisfied sigh. Riker nuzzled against him happily, and Thomas reached up to tug on his ear lazily. "So...how long does your knot last?" he asked.

"Forever," his father replied. "It never fades. We'll have to spend the rest of our lives like this." He kissed Thomas' face again. "I never want to leave you."

"But I have plants..." said Thomas. "And I don't think they'll let you do your hike while you're buried in your son." He gripped against the knot, delighting in the sensation. "No matter how incredibly fucking hot it is."

"Fuck 'em. And the hike's not happening anymore."

"What? Why?"

Riker made his knot flex inside Thomas. "You think that after this, I have any intention of vanishing into the mountains for three months? You need regular knottings, boy!" Thomas giggled and nodded.

"Yes, Daddy." He sighed again and hung in the warm embrace of his father's arms. "I'm so glad this happened, Dad. I just thought we'd go shopping this weekend, and instead...this." He wriggled happily.

Riker's arms squeezed back against his wriggling. "Hmm..." He paused. "You didn't plan this?"

Thomas blinked. "Plan? No. Not a chance. I thought you did."

"No, I...well, I had a couple beers, and then Zebra was doing his..." His voice trailed off. "Why'd you bring your sexy clothes then?" His tone wasn't accusatory or suspicious, but Thomas' heart fell. For a second, he considered lying, but he'd had his fill of keeping secrets from his father.

"Uh...I was going to...welll..." With downcast eyes, he told him about his other plan for the weekend. His father was silent until Thomas mentioned the bull's story, when he gave a gasp of shock.

It was Thomas' turn to misunderstand. "I know Dad, I feel so shit about it, but just let me--"

His father cut him off. "No, Thomas, no. It's fine. That was here, son. That was me."

Thomas didn't understand at first, and then realisation dawned. "You -- you're the horse owner? That was Zebra?" Then, with a breathier tone: "You like horse cocks too? Like I do?"

His father nodded happily. "I don't fucking believe it...my beautiful guy, into the same hot and sexy stuff as his dad." He kissed his son again, more roughly. "I'm pulling out. Hold on." Thomas felt his ring expanding again as Riker pulled back from him until, with a pop, his father's knot was out. Immediately, he felt so empty. He needed to get that beautiful thing back inside him as soon as he could.

Riker had other ideas for now, though. He spun his son around, held his head in both paws, and grinned at him. His fur was matted from sweat, and his tongue lolled out. "Do you want to play with Zebra, beautiful?" he asked.

They slipped out of the side door, still naked. It was fully night now, and there were no lights on anywhere around the lake. Only the faint glow under the stable door guided them. Riker's potent seed was dribbling out of his son and matting the fur on his leg; Thomas didn't care. It reminded him where his father had so recently been, and where he wanted him to be again in the future, many times.

Riker hastily unlocked the stables and they slipped inside. A querying nicker greeted them; Zebra was in his stall, awoken by the sound of the door. Riker soothed him with soft words, and then looked at Thomas with a smirk. "Watch this." He whistled a particular whistle, and Zebra's head came up with a jerk. He neighed and stepped towards them, already dropping.

Thomas was finally able to see the one thing he'd most hoped to see that weekend. With wide eyes, he watched the long black length extend until it almost touched the ground. Its weight made it swing about like a side of meat in a butchery. Riker stood by with arms crossed, grinning like a maniac, his eyes darting between the horse's cock and his son's amazed face. "So...when you saw him earlier..."

Thomas nodded distractedly. It was so beautiful. "Yeah. Got hard almost instantly. Was worried you saw it."

"I did. I thought you meant me to. After what you said at breakfast, I thought maybe..." He waved his paw. "Doesn't matter. It all worked out." He dipped his head towards Zebra. "Go on, then. Go say hello."

Thomas looked warily at the big stallion. "Does he...like it?"

"Like it? He fucking loves it. Used to keep dropping around me until I figured out what he wanted. Don't worry, he'll be a perfect gentleman. Go play with Zebra's dick, son. Shit, I'm so glad I can say that." He gave Thomas a sudden big hug. "Perverts together, handsome," he said happily. They grinned, and Riker pressed Thomas forward. His son got down on his haunches, right next to the stallion, looking at the monstrous dick before him. It was still swinging a little, and he reached out a paw to steady it.

"It's so firm, Dad," he said breathily. Firm, and smooth. The skin was dark and perfectly clean. There was the heady scent of stallion -- unmistakable in the close air of the stable -- and the fat flare was exactly as spongy-looking as before. Thomas slid his paw down to hold it between his fingers, and squeezed gently. It felt unreal. He almost couldn't believe he was finally getting to do this. Zebra nickered above, and his father snickered off to the side.

"That's what he likes best. Flare-play. You'll want to grip him with one paw right behind it, and then squeeze the flare, rubbing it against your palm and so on. That'll get you what you want." Thomas glanced across at his father; he was hard again -- as was the younger husky, for that matter -- and was masturbating himself as he watched. Thomas blushed, feeling good that he was making his father horny. "But not yet, son," Riker said. "Give it a lick first. Trust me."

Thomas looked at the sable pillar of flesh with desire. A lick was a given. He leaned in to touch it with the tip of his tongue, and finally got his first taste of a stallion. He'd never experienced anything like it before. Pure horny animal, with a hint of straw, and grass, and a dash of acidity. A raw, powerful combination that was instantly irresistible. He moaned deeply and licked it again, sliding his tongue across the entire surface now, taking the horse in. "Oh, it's so good," he whispered, but that was all he said. Time spent talking was time not spent licking. He gripped the cock just below the sheath with one paw, and below the medial ring with the other, and began slathering his spit over every inch. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the exquisite combination of taste and feel. His paws began to massage the stallion's dick, and he whimpered when he felt it begin to harden up even more in response.

The wet noises of his father's masturbation stopped, and Thomas sensed Riker stepping closer to him. His father's thick cock swung into view. "You're getting him closer, son. Do like I told you." Thomas obeyed, gripping the horse's cock where his father had told him to. Zebra was snorting and nickering now, but he was well-trained; he remained standing, his hips only thrusting forward somewhat towards the pleasurable stimulation. "Feel his balls a bit, Thomas, he likes that as well." Thomas quickly put a paw up to the dark orbs and stroked them. "Oh yeah son," Riker said huskily, gripping his own balls and slowly stroking himself. "So fucking hot watching you jerk off my horse..."

Having his father watch him do this to Zebra was making it all even hotter for Thomas, too. He huffed and redoubled his efforts. Squeezing, stroking, gripping, licking...he tried to do what the horse seemed to like the most. Zebra seemed to go crazy for it all. His flare was swelling, then deflating, getting a little bigger each time. He tossed his head, his snow-white mane flying about, and pressed forward with a snort. "His balls are coming up, son," his father said. "He's close. Take his gift, son. Open wide." Thomas pulled the cock forward, gripping it as it flexed and jerked and watched the flare grow and grow and grow...

The first jet hit him square in the mouth, the force of it catching him by surprise. He tried to gasp, and gurgled instead. Watery horse cum ran out between his teeth, and his tongue lapped up what he could. It tasted very different from his own. Before he had time to process that, though, the next blast hit his nose, splashing out across his entire muzzle. He heard his father huffing and pleasuring himself right next to him, and then he groaned, and Thomas was hit with a second blast of cum from the side. Then Zebra released another blast too, and within seconds, Thomas was soaked and dripping for the second time that day -- but with horse and husky semen this time. He shut his eyes, opened his mouth, and let the two males mark him as theirs.

Zebra didn't take long to finish orgasming, and Riker was close behind. Thomas licked up every bit of cum he could reach with his tongue, even licking it off his fingers. The horse's body was quivering, small waves running up and down his muscles. His cock was already deflating, pulling back into its sheath. Thomas whined as it vanished, pawing at the sheath and then turning in desperation to his father. He needed a cock in his mouth right now. Riker obliged, pushing his crimson fuck-stick closer to Thomas, who grabbed it immediately. He greedily suckled on it, cleaning it of the familiar taste of husky cum, snuffling and whimpering with delight. Even when it was clean, he kept sucking, pleasuring his father until his cock shrank back into his sheath. His father gave a big sigh, stroking his ears and murring.

"You're an amazing cocksucker, son," he said. Thomas' heart beat a little faster. It was such a turn on when his father complimented his sexual talents.

"I use all the tricks you taught me, daddy," he replied, smirking up at his sire, and Riker laughed in delight.

"Full circle...I like it." He got down on his haunches too, and hugged his son. They watched Zebra clop around the stables. "But I've got so many tricks I never told you about, son. I think we need to get to work on your training as soon as possible. What do you think?"

Thomas sighed in contentment. "Yes, Daddy. I agree."