FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Characters:

Charles “Chuck” Ceratotherium (Male, Rhino, 49)

Brody Ceratotherium (Male, Rhino, 18)

Notes:

Story Text:

There was an unspoken rule between Chuck and his 18-year-old son, Brody.

And that rule was to not mention the fact that the father-son rhinos were clearly, obviously, and painfully lusting after one another.

They’d both stare, a lot, of course. Brody was a college athlete by that point, and was always going on morning jogs and runs with friends, returning to their small, cramped little home in tight little shorts and a sleeveless shirt so loose it hung off his muscular young figure, showing off every inch of smooth, sweaty, grey flesh. He’d always saunter up to the fridge, panting softly and removing the cap he’d worn to ward the sun from his eyes, as he snatched a bottle of cool water from the fridge and chugged the thing.

Chuck… well, he worked evenings, so was always there watching TV in the morning. And with how little distance there was from the kitchen to the living room, well…

He stared. Bearded face hot, hairy chest heaving slightly as he reclined on the sofa, television firmly forgotten in favor of staring at his athletic young son’s ass, and legs, and arms, and chest, and…

Face.

The boy’s face turned to him, cheeks just as hot as Chuck’s felt. He gulped, averting his gaze for a moment, looking embarrassed… A flick downwards with the older rhino’s eyes found why: his shorts bulged obscenely at the front as he stood in front of the fridge, water bottle in hand, a good amount of it spilled down his chin and neck and chest.

“Ah- S- Sorry, Dad,” he said, tail flicking behind him. He didn’t move to leave, bringing his other hand forward to try and hide his bulge. Or, maybe just to grope it; that’s all he seemed to do.

Chuck was salivating. His own sweatpants were bulging at that point, cock throbbing in his boxers and sticking straight up from his lap. He was topless under his old bathrobe, exposing his wiry-haired chest.

That sure seemed to be where his son’s eyes kept flicking. Drinking in the sight of thick, hairy dad chest, the black of it fading to gray in a few spots as the man neared fifty, his shaggy mane of hair similarly graying a bit; it was tied back that morning, to keep its greasy locks out of the way. The man gulped… and slipped his hand to his own bulge, squeezing it slightly.

It… was the RULES. They didn’t talk about how bad they wanted to fuck each other. They… they were father and son, for fucks sake. It was… gross, and taboo, and DEGERATE what they both thought.

He gulped, trying to fight the urge. But, fuck, his athletic, 18-year-old boy, standing there blushing and hard in those cute little fucking shorts…

Chuck huffed, shifting and standing up from his seat. Brody’s eyes widened as his father approached, hairy chest puffed out forward as he neared the boy. He gave his bearded jaw a scratch, rustling the thick, scraggly facial hair.

He stopped… almost pressing up against his son, who had been leaning back against the kitchen counter as he drank. The water in his hand lowered, and he stared up at the taller man, a head higher and thick with fat and muscle. Chuck huffed softly, drinking in the sight of his handsome boy… staring up at him, smooth and toned and precious… And hard as a fucking rock in those shorts.

Was that water dripping down the boy’s chin, or saliva? It was definitely slobber gathering at the edge of Chuck’s lips. He slipped his hands forward… not onto Brody, of course not, just onto the counter. On either side of those narrow, sexy hips…

“Fuck…” he found himself exhaling hotly, warm breath making his son twitch, lips pursing. “You… Baby, you are so fucking hot in those shorts…”

Brody flushed, exhaling and trembling slightly. His eyes spoke to disbelief, and NEED. He stammered, averting his gaze and getting out, “D- Dad, heh, d- don’t joke, that’s weird! I- I mean, you shouldn’t…”

He trailed off as Chuck’s hand, thick and callused from a long life of working hard to provide for his cub, for his boy, for his handsome man, slipped forward and cupped his chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. The boy shivered, staring up at his father’s warm, loving, hungry eyes. “You know I’m not joking,” he murred, leaning down a bit, lips almost touching his son’s. “We… BOTH know… that this isn’t a joke… Mmf, fuck…”

Rule: Broken.

Brody groaned, soft and needy, as he clumsily set the water bottle aside and slipped his hands to his dad’s body. One hooked at his waist, under his bathrobe, fingers curling around the waistband of his sweats; the other on his broad belly, fingers curling into the wiry forest of body hair on the older male’s thick figure.

“Ah… W- We… We shouldn’t…” Brody huffed, shivering as his father leaned against him, that thick masculine body engulfing his smaller, athletic build. His knees trembled, sneakers shuffling on the tile floor.

“Heh,” Chuck rumbled, leaning his horned snout up towards his son’s ear. “Why not…? We’re not doing anything… WRONG. Its just… a little father-son bonding, eh?

“Plenty of dads kiss their sons…”

Brody gasped, eyes widening, as his father’s hand angled his muzzle up again. Their lips crashed together in a tight, lewd kiss, Chuck’s eyes slipping closed as he kissed the younger male. Their fronts pressed together, Brody’s fingers curling tight against the man’s belly hair, their erections grinding through their pants as thick, slobbery lips engulfed his own.

“Mmm…” the young rhino moaned, trembling. Then, he closed his own eyes, feeling his father’s tongue pressing at his lips, his teeth… He let it in, flinching as thick dad-tongue pressed into his maw, tasting him. The man tilted his head, angling himself to get further, pressing against the boy, hand hooking around the back of his neck for purchase as he dove in with full gusto, Brody returning the enthusiasm eagerly. He sucked on the thick tongue intruding into his mouth, shivering at the taste of alcohol and cigarette smoke, of cheap-ass mints and spicy food.

Of his dad. His dad’s tongue in his mouth, lips on his, hands stroking his slender, athletic young body, feeling every hairless inch of it. The cock that made him, grinding against his own through layers of clothing.

Chuck’s hand squeezed his son’s side, the other clinging to his broad shoulder. Rhino slobber dripped from their joined jaws, mingled and mixed. Brody’s hands clung to him, desperate.

This… this was too far, too much, they were… For fucks sake, this was his SON, and he…

He tasted fucking amazing.

Lungs burning, Chuck finally relinquished the kiss. Their lips parted, drool linking their muzzles for a moment as they both panted heavy and hot against each others’ mouths. Eyes still closed, relishing the lingering taste of one another.

On one side, ash and burn and mint.

On the other, sweetness and freshness and bubblegum.

Chuck shuddered, gasping into his son’s lips. “F- Fuck…” he whispered, a near-pray to the only god he ever needed: His athletic, sexy young son.

His son… the boy was barely more than jailbait.

Thinking that just made his cock throb, pulsing against the young jock’s own bulging erection. He winced, and as much as he didn’t want to… I- It wasn’t appropriate, he shifted his hips back, ceasing their grinding. Brody openly whimpered, hips bucking slightly as if to reengage, but his father had moved far enough back that he failed.

“Ah… Ah… D- Dad… Daddy…” the young rhino panted, eyes slipping open to gaze lovingly up at him. Too lovingly, too lustfully, too… hungry.

Chuck imagined he had the same look in his eyes, gazing down at the handsome young boy he’d made. He squeezed that muscular young shoulder, lips curling upwards as he saw how it made the jock rhino shudder slightly.

But, Chuck gulped. “W- We… We can’t go too far, son,” he reminded, huskily.

Brody exhaled, trembling, red-faced. His smooth cheeks burned with arousal, but he nodded, agreeing softly and stroking his father’s hairy gut, “Y- Yeah… Yeah, no, you’re right.”

“… R- Rules,” the older man grunted, nodding slightly. Brody nodded back. “W- We’re… it’s just kissing, right? And- And we have clothes on, for fucks sake, heh. It’s… It’s nothing wrong, or vulgar, or… anything like that.”

“N- No, of course not,” Brody confirmed, shaking his head, still clinging to his father needily. He bit his lip, eyes shifting down to the ample, scraggly-haired pecs almost eye level with him. Still staring at his dad’s chest, he confirmed, “It’s just… just a little kiss. A clothed kiss… It’s not like we’ll do anything in our underwear or anything, heh…”

Their bulging cocks almost touched, throbbing and twitching at one another’s proximity. Chuck curled his toes, tail flicking. God… He’d love to have this boy in his briefs, moaning and whimpering in his lap, grinding on his bulge, gasping, leaking on him…

Fuck. N- No. It… They had a rule. As long as they had rules, they’d be fine.

“Right. C- Clothes, always on,” Chuck huffed, nodding.

Rule established… father and son leaned in for more, maws opening and tongues eager to taste more of one another.

As long as they had rules, they’d be fine.

As long as they had rules, they were just… a father and son, having a little fun.