Striped Incest

---

Fucked by My Father

My father started fascinating me when I was in my late teens, an adult coming into himself. I'd never thought about him in that way before, not even when he'd done things like mow the lawn without a shirt on, the two of us alone after my mother had passed away so many years before, but maybe I was a late bloomer. A lot said that about me, a teen that started stout and then shot up later on, lanky and not quite knowing what to do with my limbs. But, even then, my stripes had matched my father's, a touch of brown around the edge showing that I was a mixed zebra and horse, even if I looked like a zebra anthro to most. Only those that knew me had been told that my mother was a horse, though it was not as if it was a big deal. It was just a part of me.

"Hey, Lee, could you get me the rake? I think it's in the back of the shed..."

In the summer heat, I was only too happy to help my dad, only just turned twenty and studying as hard as I could at university. I knew how lucky I was to have a father who cared as much about me as he did, for things did not always work out that way.

I watched him, pretending to garden. I liked planting flowers, but that was more my quiet time. When my father was there, I couldn't focus on anything besides him, my eyes on his chest, how his pecs glistened with sweat, more visible on the darker stripes than the white of his chest. But the soft, dark earth between my fingers was just as comforting, even though I wanted something else under my hands.

I got the rake for him. I did anything he asked. He thought we were quietly working together and I liked the idea of that too. It was good to be around him, quietly and simply, though I never acted on my urges. Maybe that was all I could do and maybe it was going to have to be enough for me to simply watch, to learn, to take all that I could from my father, day by day.

But it was never that easy. Things escalated, slowly at first and then speeding up, like rocks tumbling down a hill. I studied hard, pushed on by my father saying that he wanted a better life for me, though I thought that the life that he had given me was good enough, better than a lot had, but he wanted more for me. He was always thinking of me, but at least it did not mean that I had to study and work, could focus a little more on myself than a lot.

A touch here, an accidental brush there. If we'd been teenagers flirting, everything might have been fine, but he was my father and he did not deserve my stuttering fumbles after everything in my life that he had done for me, everything he had given up for me. But he was my father and I could not think of him like that, hiding away, grunting, not really talking to him all that much.

My father saw me retreating, but did not comment. Maybe he knew that I needed more time to myself, though all the time I took to myself was spent grasping my grey-skinned shaft, the luxurious darkness of it gleaming with a touch of pre-cum. There was more and more of that as I ruthlessly jacked off, my hand sliding up and down my cock with intense intent, though I could only see my father in my mind's eye. That was why I was rougher with myself than usual, as if I really did know that what I was doing was wrong.

But all I wanted was my father pushing over me, his lips on mine, nuzzling down my chest, dropping lower and lower, giving me what my other, inexperienced, partners had not. I hadn't had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter, but I had not known what else I could have wanted, what I could have done. Dating didn't feel right when my attention had always been elsewhere, slipping off to the side, daydreaming, drifting to my father.

Snorting, hips arching up from my bed, I climaxed heavily, cum splattering my belly and chest, trying to be as quiet as possible, though I knew I was not always as quiet as I needed to be. It was not a good thing, running closer and closer to the risk of being discovered, though there was still a part of me that wanted that to happen. It would be embarrassing, of course, but it could not be as bad as admitting to my father that I wanted to fuck his brains out and, well, vice versa too. I went both ways when it came to the bedroom, apparently, which wasn't entirely a bad thing for me.

I cleaned up quietly, sleeping that night in the sweaty tangle of sheets, my father's tail swishing through my dreams, watching his arse, imagining him pushing over me dominantly.

Fuck, he was hot.

However, I couldn't keep things to myself forever. It was destined to change, for I was not the only one that had to deal with the crackling tension from bubbling to the surface. He knew I was avoiding him and it wasn't going to end well.

Well...that depended on one's point of view.

It was stupid of me. Stupid but brilliant. I went into his room to get a jacket to go out, to head to the pub, to see if I could forget about my father for one night.

I never expected him to emerge from the bathroom, dripping with water, towelling his upright mane with one hand while the towel wrapped around his waist slipped tantalisingly lower, exposing the bone of his hip, the front of his crotch without any sheath. Time stretched out between us, my heart pounding, though the drag of time slowing down ached deeply through me, heart pounding with each fervent pulse of heated arousal shooting straight to my dick.

I stopped dead in my tracks, eyes fixed on him, the jacket falling from my hand. My father paused, lips parted, the towel slipping a little more, but he was not quick enough to catch it, perhaps startled to see me there, in his room. And, just like that, the moment was swept away from both of us, his sheath revealed to me, his balls still darkly shiny with a hint of water that had not yet evaporated away.

Maybe I could have played everything off as an embarrassing moment if that had been everything, but it was not. His cock was half-swollen, half-hard, as if he had been aroused or even doing something that I had been every night that week, enjoying himself in the shower. The musk of a zebra stallion, that rich, earthen aroma with a hint of soft richness, could not be washed away by a single shower, my nostrils flaring as I sucked in breath after breath.

My eyes landed on his cock, my father stuttering, shifting back onto the heels of his hooves, fumbling for words that slipped through his fingers as if they were simply something that he could not hope to cling onto.

"Oh, damn, um, sorry, son - it's just..."

I tried too, though neither of us could find the words, the towel crumpled on the floor, him naked, me with a raging hard-on that he had to be able to see through my jeans.

End preview.

_ _

_ _

_ _

_ _

_ _

Thank you for reading! This story is available to purchase, worldwide, via Smashwords and Commiss.io!

Smashwords:https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1137721

Commiss.io:https://commiss.io/listings/KqXx

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!

https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/

All new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!

@alismitsy

I am also available for custom stories, tailored to your preferred nuances and characters. Please e-mail the following address for further information.

arianmabe@gmail.com

If you liked this story, you may also enjoy...

Stallion's First Time with His Father: Lust in the Family

A stallion and his son... Everything should be fine, right? A normal father and son relationship?

Ah, but it is not so, not when eyes wander and those fleeting touches, innocent at first, become more and more frequent. Need grows between two bachelors, needing something that only they, the body of another male, can provide.

That they are related, well...it shouldn't really be that much of an issue between consenting adults. Yet his father's tight hole begs him to tease on, his father offering himself up for his very first time.

The young stallion, Joe, shudders. Things will never be the same again, not as his tail flags and his body unloads. But neither would he want it to be.

Things are better for both when he lusts for his father, after all...

Note: this story contains consensual incest between adult anthro characters.

Stallion Sons & their Frisky Fathers: Collection of gay incest mini stories

Stallion anthros are the most lusty of all, their hard, throbbing...desire peaking for passion. Only, these studs are more interested in their sons and their fathers, coming together in carnal delight, pulsating desire coursing through.

They can't hold it back and, together, they have absolutely no need to. Why sacrifice lust when they have each other there to satisfy them whenever needed?

Author's note: this story contains consensual incest between anthro stallion characters and all characters are adults.

Submitting to His Father: A Stallion Son on His Knees

A stallion son gets on his knees for his stud of a father. He's so strong and so dominant that he just can't help bending the knee, pledging his undying submission to him, letting his father spend load after load right where it belongs.

But to be bridled and shoved down into place, something to be used and abused... Oh, that is the most lustful of all, passion coursing through, driving and throbbing, lust curling to a fever-pitch of a high.

Two stallions at play is a sight to be seen!

Note: this story contains consensual gay incest.

Infatuated with His Father: Stud Stallions Sweating it Up

Tristin and Quinn's relationship goes a little beyond what is usual for a father and son, though it is all to be believed while they take advantage of one another's bodies. They can't do it at home often, not with Tristin living away, but he knows what he wants and what he can drop to his knees for, that girthy length of meat calling him on time after time again.

At the gym, however, there's time at the end of the day, privacy to enjoy each other, sweating it up in the musky lust of it all to find such pleasure. Father and son stallions come together with moans of passion unlike anything else as Tristin allows his father to dominate him. There may be nothing better than his father's fingers twisted into his mane but he lusts for him all the more he is "forced" to do what the older, experienced stallion has in mind for him...

Lust between father and son should never be restrained.