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Chuck kept one slitted, yellow eye on his poolboy while he sunned himself. Lylle, the poolboy, couldn't help but keep sneaking glances at the big pine green gator. It was rare a customer actually stayed outside while he worked, much less in a bright blue speedo. He supposed it made sense for a reptile to want to take in the noonday sun. For the chubby capybara, the midday heat simply made him grateful to be in the pool itself, vacuuming its bottom.

Lylle heard the crisp pop of a can being opened. Chuck was pouring back a beer, and noticed Lylle watching. The gator held it out and said, “You wanna drink, kid?"

Called a kid at twenty-four should have gotten under his skin, but Lylle couldn't help but be a little flustered. He said, “You don't mind, sir?"

“I told you to cut the sir crap, it's Chuck, yeah? Less you my momma in disguise, then it's Charles."

“Right, Chuck."

“You wanna drink just come over. I know what they say about us alligators, but I promise not to bite."

“I-I never thought—"

“Relax, kid."

Lylle decided he needed to focus on making the pool bottom pristine for a moment.

“You coming over or not?"

“Just let me get this spot first!" Lylle really didn't need to do much. Chuck had him over last week as well. Choosing to sun outside while Lylle was there was new, however.

“Alright, beer's getting warm, though. And turn off that pool pump when you get done, tired of hearing that thing moan and groan."

Lylle hadn't quite finished, but he supposed if he was back here next week it wouldn't matter much. He climbed out the underground pool and shut off the pump before, a little sheepishly, he walked around to where Chuck sat on his lounge chair, splayed on his back. Lylle couldn't help but stare a bit at the cream-colored leathery hide, a round gut and barrel chest, biceps the size of Lylle's thighs, scales seemingly stretched tight over muscle. His eyes went from Chuck's gut, to his swollen pecs, his muscular thighs, that thick tail running down between his legs.

“Enjoying the view?"

“I'm sorry!" Lylle yelped, jumping backwards just as he reached the gator.

“Psh, think I came out here just for the sun to stare at me, boy?"

“Um…" Lylle took a second to process what was being said, webbed feet taking a ginger step towards Chuck again, “I… I don't think I understand."

“I think you need a drink—er, you are old enough, yeah?"

“Yes," Lylle said as he was handed the beer.

“Sorry, don't know many capys. Can't begin to know how you tell their age."

Lylle shrugged, “I don't know how to tell how old you are, either." He took a long drink. It was a narragansett, not exactly a beer to write home about, but it was refreshing.

“Obviously twenty-one: young, dumb, and full of cum."

“E-excuse me?"

“You really can't take a joke."

“I… uh," Lylle hesitated, but decided Chuck had a good sense of humor, “I just didn't expect you to be a bottom."

Chuck gave him a long, hard stare. Lylle almost apologized, but realization dawned on the gator's muzzle and he let out a deep, growling laugh. He smacked his thigh. “Took me a moment! Didn't know you were a witty one, boy. Come here."

Lylle could only take another step before his soaked fur and swim trunks were almost touching Chuck's scales. He nearly yelped again when Chuck snatched his wrist and tugged him onto the gator's lap. The chair squealed in protest, but held as Lylle sat awkwardly on Chuck.

Toothy smirk so close now, Lylle couldn't help but stare at the older man's lips as he said, “Told you I won't bite."

“I… I…"

“You been looking at me all day," Chuck said as he cupped the capybara's cheek. His thumb stroked the corner of Lylle's eye. “I like these long lashes of yours, and the shape of your eyes is alluring, begging people to look at ya. Anyone tell you you got good eyes, boy?"

“N-no…"

“You're, what, twenty-two?"

“T-twenty-four."

“Heh, and no one told you yet, damn shame, that."

“Y-yeah…"

Over the smell of pool chlorine, Lylle smelled the sharp, pungent, muddy musk of the man whose lap he sat on. One hand on the gator's thigh for balance, those sun-warmed leathery scales so inviting to touch. Lylle wanted so bad to squeeze it, to touch those fat pecs. His chest was so tight it made it hard to breathe, and it only got tighter as he felt his dick begin to flush with life.

“It's important for a young man's confidence, you know? Gotta compliment them, and be specific, how you wrap them around your finger."

“Is… is that what you're doing?"

“Nah boy, I got you in a cat's cradle at this point. I'm just doing some teaching."

“T-teaching—ah!" All thoughts ended when one of Chuck's meaty hands groped his groin. The younger man's prick became hard in a few pumps of Chuck's hand, throbbing in his swim trunks.

“You got a good girth on you, too. Play your cards right and I might let you use it, but right now—" Chuck's other hand wrapped around one of Lylle's glutes, the cheek filling the gator's palm, “I been wanting this for a couple weeks now."

“Uh, umf, hn—I-I…"

“Use those words, boy."

“Is this really happening—" he gasped when Chuck pinched his butt.

“No, you ain't dreaming, boy. You're a treat is what you are. Most the boys in this kinda job are just skinny twinks with no meat on their bones—don't care for them, but you…" another throaty growl before he whispered in Lylle's ear, “I love tasty little morsels like you." Swooning, Lylle didn't notice Chuck's grip on him shift, “Now work with me here, boy."

The world turned over. Chuck manhandled him like Lylle was a doll, turning the capybara around and tugging him up. Lylle found himself on the chair, hainds planted on its sides, facing that bright blue speedo while Chuck held him up by the thighs, backside right in front of the gator's face. Chuck turned his head to the side and nimbly bit down on the swim trunks before his head yanked back, shredding the trunks and exposing Lylle's backside. The tattered clothes fell onto Chuck's chest, his dick now hanging in the open air, achingly hard.

One of those big hands wrapped around his cock and gave it a firm tug, foreskin pulled up and down his glans. Lylle moaned and spat precum on Chuck's pecs. Another squeeze and Chuck growled, “Love a nice, hefty cock that can fill my palm. You're full of surprises, boy."

“God, Chuck—"

“Daddy."

How did this gator know every button to press? “Daddy," Lylle whined, “I'm going to c-cum if you keep—mmf—" Lylle buried his broad snout in Chuck's speedo as he was jerked off faster.

Chucked tossed the tattered trunks off him and said, “Go ahead, boy, cum whenever, I know a young thing like you got plenty of spunk for me."

“Fuck… fuck," Lylle whimpered and huffed the speedo now. Pungent gator musk only heightened the pleasure of the leathery hand squeezing and working his whole shaft. Lylle hadn't cum in a couple days, and he was so worked up…

He whined when Chuck's other hand gently groped his balls. “You got a sack fat as your ass, too. I can feel them twitching. You love having daddy milk your cock, huh?"

“Daddy… oh god…" Lylle's entire back half shook as he felt the pressure and tension build in his loins, fighting off his orgasm long as he could, but his balls flexed in that leathery palm and, ears down in embarrassment, Lylle squealed as he came.

“Good boy! Give daddy your cum, just like that." Chuck squeezed tight on Lylle's tip, working it over in smaller strokes while he squirmed and groaned. Cum filled the gator's palm, squeezed out around his scaly fingers, dripped down the digits onto that broad chest. “Fuck yeah, you were one pent up little boy, weren't you?" Lylle gasped when finally released, only to huff when he heard Chuck suck his fingers clean. “Gonna need to taste more of that soon. For now," both palms grabbed his buttcheeks, spreading the fat bubble only for a long broad, tongue to run perineum to the wrinkled pit of Lylle's rim. Another growl against his backside, “Damn shame I waited till you tasted like poolwater before I did this."

Moaning as that muscle lapped more at his backside, Lylle finally recovered enough to reach down. He yanked on the speedo hard enough to tear away the fabric. Revealing a horizontal slit, its lips puffy and swollen. Lylle nuzzled into it, nose getting a little wet, and moaned as he got that unfettered, heady musk to fill his senses. Chuck's tongue, meanwhile, drilled and burrowed against his rim, the broad muscle slowly caving in his entrance with each push. Lylle answered in kind, mouth to lower mouth, he frenched Chuck's sex, coated his tongue in the salty tang of the gator's arousal. Its pungent flavor made him shudder, eyelashes fluttering as he worked his tongue deeper, flicking it against the pointed tip of the gator's cock.

As if he urged a snake from its burrow, Lylle felt that beastial tool engorge and slither its way into his mouth. The salty, sharp taste had Lylle's dick dripping more on Chuck's chest.

“That's a good cocksucker," Chuck growled. “Get me ready for you, boy."

Lylle pushed up enough to mumble, “Yes daddy." God, every time he called the muscular, older gator daddy it made him lustier and lustier. A sharper musk filled his senses as the capybara nuzzled the engorging cock. A mast of pale pink flesh that throbbed higher and higher, narrowing to a fine pointed tip meant to invade young men like himself.

Wrapping his lips around the tapered, salty flesh felt so natural. The capybara moaned sweetly as precum spurted in his mouth, its salty tang quickly swallowed as Lylle worked further down. Daddy cock quickly filled out the rest of his maw, pink tongue to pink shaft, tastebuds pressing down into pulsing veins as its urethra drooled on his uvula. Lylle became entranced by the serpent he sucked. The boy's dick now drooling fresh mess on daddy.

Chuck spanked his ass and Lylle gasped. The older male grabbed him and spun Lylle around again, face to face, head spinning with gator musk. Lylle was pulled into a kiss, a peck on leathery lips opening to a tongue stuffed in the capybara's maw. He moaned as they swapped saliva, the flavor of musky, slit-encased cock and the slightly chlorinated flavor of his backside. Those massive hands groped his cheeks again and spread them before Chuck broke the kiss and growled, “Reach down and guide me in, boy."

“Yes, daddy," Lylle breathed as he fumbled to grab that slick, tapered tip. He lined it up with his hole, panting hard. His dick felt so good squished between his furry belly and the round, leathery scales of the gator under him. Soon as his backside was prodded, Chuck yanked his fatass down. The first inch punched inside him easily, quickly expanding and stretching Lylle out to the point he was quaking.

Chuck snarled and lifted the boy up before slamming him back down on daddy's dick. Lylle barked, mouth agape, back arched, suddenly more filled than any man ever had. Chuck's base was thick as a canine's knot—most of the shaft was. It reached deep, deliciously grinding into his prostate. Lylle's cock throbbing with so much pressure he thought he might piss himself.

“God, boy, I wanted to do this from the moment I saw you."

“Y-you should have—fuck me, daddy, please," Lylle said as he threw his arms around the gator's broad shoulders. He panted, face planted between the valley of those beautiful pecs. The sweaty, petrichor musk numbing all thought except his daddy's body, rubbing against his. His cock leaked more and more on daddy's scales, second orgasm already building up.

Chuck didn't wait for him to get used to being split open by that long length. Lylle moaned as daddy made him bounce on his lap. Those powerful hands digging into his bubbly flesh as his asshole got caved in, over and over again by the pale pink tool. His butt smacked wetly on the gator's slit, as the two both gasped and moaned. Each rock of their bodies rubbed Lylle's thick rod between their bellies faster and faster. Fur and flesh, leather and scale, each grind met with the explosive pressure of his prostate pounded by daddy.

That wonderful, snaking pressure sawing through his rectum made it difficult to keep himself from going over the edge again, but then Chuck snarled, “Daddy's going to cum, boy."

“Oh God, daddy, I'm—hah—c-close, too."

“Cum for me, slut, come on and cum for daddy."

Lylle hung onto Chuck for dear life as his dick exploded. Cum flooded both guts in thick, ropy spurts. His asshole clenched, and Chuck roared, made Lylle scream when he was slammed down before jaws clapped across his shoulder. Daddy's teeth dug through fur into flesh, slicing into it, drawing tiny rivulets of blood. The stinging pain of it swirling with the intoxicating, overwhelming pleasure of his cock twitching between those bellies; only for him to moan again when liquid heat flooded his bowels. His hole clenched as daddy's seed drowned everything else, body only caring to squeeze and milk more from the internal testes of the gator claiming him. He felt seed spill out his hole and drench both of them where they were connected. Chuck somehow pulsed with more and more thick globs of semen till it spilled down his tail, through the plastic bands of the chair, and dripped onto the concrete.

Head spinning, Lylle didn't even remember Chuck picking him up and carrying him to the bedroom, spilling the dazed capybara on the bed before he said, “I hope you don't have any more plans, boy. Cause daddy's not done."

“Um… n-no," Lylle answered automatically. He might have, but it didn't matter now. He touched his bitten shoulder. Still sore, and mumbled, “I thought… you said you didn't bite."

Chuck, who'd been getting a buttplug from the drawer in his nightstand, looked at him and grinned. “Be lucky I didn't roll you boy."

“Wh-what if I wanna be rolled?"

“Oh, daddy's definitely keeping you."