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If experience had taught Rosar anything, it was that antagonizing his father would always leave him worse for wear, even if he couldn’t help but crave the man’s fury. In his frenzied state, he could already tell that the old man was primed to do truly unspeakable things to his own son.

So the younger bear stayed exactly where he was, on his knees before Roseo, taunting his father with such saccharine innocence.

His old man had Rosar trapped between his impervious size and hard, rough brick, the bear’s back pressed as tight to the wall as he could manage while his father stood astride his body. In front of him, hanging beneath his father’s swollen gut, was a bludgeon of throbbing, twitching meat, a thick shaft with veins slithering up and down its length angrily thrust toward his head. Two heavy balls hung from the bear’s crotch, rings of tepid metal forcing them further down, as their collective heat bore into Rosar’s naked form. The stench of hot skin, oily sweat, and stale cum ate its way through him with every breath, his lungs filling with what little air he could find between him and his father’s groin.

Yet Rosar urged himself to look up, tearing his eyes away from the old man’s fearsome erection and up to his face that was etched with just as much rage. Beyond the mountain of his belly and chest, staring down at his son through a dark, stormy brow, Roseo’s glare pierced through the younger male in turn. He met those eyes and quietly, softly, mischievously, he dared to feign obliviousness for what was to come next.

With a low, bristling growl bellowing up from his gut, the old bear hissed through gritted teeth,

“Bet you thought you was clever. Figured you’d get away with it.” Rosar felt claws creep across the back of his head, the heavyset bear demonstrating with the simple touch who between them held the power. “Over and over, it’s always meant for someone else, you sent it by mistake…” Roseo’s grip tightened, fingers pricking into the younger male’s scalp, the bear’s growl festering into a dangerous snarl. “Every fuckin’ time. You think I don’t know what you’re doin’?”

The paw wrestling with his head began to push, pressure pulling the young bear forward and closer to his father’s grotesque cock. Even in the fleeting second Rosar impulsively tried to resist, he was utterly outmatched by his father’s strength as those claws only dug deeper and his arm only pulled harder.

“Well, I’m done gettin’ fucked around. You wanna be some dirty slut gaggin’ for your ol’ man’s meat, then you’re sure as shit gonna gag on it.”

With one last, unrelenting shove of his paw, Roseo forced his son’s muzzle hard to the tip of his cock. There was little the younger bear could do as his old man continued to push, the uncomfortably warm, bulbous head splitting its way between his lips. Rosar’s jaw hastily yawned open, his tongue flattened under the invading mass of throbbing flesh, and the salty, slimy taste of his own father burned its way into his maw. Weakly he groaned, those very first inches already proving themselves too much for him to manage, yet just as the noise was suffocated in his throat it was promptly followed down by Roseo’s cock. Every muscle, fiber, and sinew in his face screamed from the strain, his eyes welling up from the sheer obscenity of what his father demanded him to take, and all the while the older bear broke through his son’s distress with nothing more than an indifferent grunt.

Inch by painstaking inch, a gruesome sight of bloated meat squeezing and squirming its way through taut lips, Roseo forced himself deeper and deeper into his boy. Pinned in place, impaled barely halfway down his father’s manhood, Rosar could only resign himself to the inevitable. Through half-lidded eyes that struggled to focus, slowly becoming buried beneath Roseo’s hanging gut, the younger bear helplessly looked on as his father fed his cock to such terrifying depths. He could feel the agonizing stretch of not just his jaw but his entire neck, his esophagus broken open into a gaping tunnel to suckle on the old bear’s dick. Yet even then, Rosar swearing he could feel that pulsing, drooling head descending into the pit of his stomach, it never seemed to end. Starved for air, blinded by the weight of his dad’s belly, and sinking into the sea of pubic fur, the younger bear surrendered as everything within him went limp.

Only then, with his balls flush to his son’s chest, did Roseo finally reach the root of his cock. Only then did he cram every last inch of his cock into the very thing it had made.

But deep down, with a dark, disgusting, degenerate plume of hope rising from within, Rosar hoped things were far from over.

Rolling his hips back and dragging his cock from his boy’s throat with a stomach-churning grind of flesh, Roseo began to pull out. It was an unbearable sensation, the young bear writhing and flinching with every instinctive to regurgitate his father’s cock himself, but the old man remained in control. He paced himself with a slow, torturous retreat, sliding his erection back through Rosar’s gullet, throat, and muzzle, until only the head lingered just deep enough to keep the boy’s lips sealed. The young male tried unsuccessfully to pull back, but his father held him firm. Despite how close he was, the bear refused to let his boy breathe or rest.

Instead, he began to inch back forward. Beneath him, Rosar’s strangled cries were silenced by the deepest gag of flesh. He was completely at his father’s mercy, suffering all over again as the bear forced his way back inside his maw and down to the gut of his own flesh and blood.