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Father and Pup

Written by Tristanthewolf

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My name is Tristan, and I'm down bad for daddies. Really, my spare time isn't used that well. All I do is jerk off to daddies. I think about daddies, talk about daddies, goon over daddies.

Scroll on Twitter. Look at daddies. Go on Telegram. Talk about daddies. Wake up. Think about daddies. Go to sleep. Beat myself silly thinking about daddies.

It's a bit sad, right? At this point, it's become a lifelong obsession. And I just can't stop thinking about them. I even write stories about how much I love dads and sons. I'm weird, right? That's what everyone else believes, so at some point, that's what I started to believe about myself, too.

That's what led to me hating myself, because I never knew anything about myself, beyond my sexual desires.

Why have daddies become my everything? Aren't I more than this? I guess, for people who liked that kind of thing, it was easy for them to get something out of it. But I guess I never really cared about myself at all.

That's why I decided to start meeting new people, even if they are on the Internet, I have to trust people again, right? After all, it's the only way to move forward.

“Hey guys, this is my morning routine! *aggressive fap sounds*

Yeah, right…

I’m basically just a horny mess of a person.

And people always ask me, “Why do you like daddies so much?”

I don’t even know.

It’s not because my dad is a weirdo or anything - I know that I’m well loved. I think I just feel lonely, you know?

I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but I’ve always felt this way in my life.

So, thinking about daddies really makes me happy.

“Hey Tristan, your dinner is ready!” My mother called for me from downstairs.

I smile, and close my journal.

My therapist told me to do this kind of stuff; to record my thoughts.

But all I really have to say is how much I love fathers, their sons, and all sorts of other weird thoughts in my head that I put onto paper.

That’s why I write. It gets all the gunk out.

And I find myself smiling a lot more nowadays, knowing that I can make all that ‘gunk’ and ‘slop’ into something that a lot of people enjoy.

I eat dinner with my family, settling myself down at the table for another delicious meal.

I just don’t get it. It's like something inside me is wrong.

My family is loving, kind and always want the best for me, so why do I always have these thoughts?

Why do I always want daddies?

I look at my dad, who smiles back at me.

“Hello son,” he said, putting some apple sauce next to his steak.

Yeah, he’s a simple man. Easy to please. Really kind, of course. Just like my mother, and my sister.

“Hi Tristan!” My sister said, sitting next to me.

“Hello…” I meekly urged out.

“What have you been up to?” She asked.

A blush rose on my face as I struggled to answer the question.

Could I really answer the question?

“Uh… I dunno, just gaming and stuff.” I reply back, meekly.

Yeah, that’s another thing. When people ask me what I like to do in my spare time, I don’t ever tell them I like writing, or jerking off, or porn, because, you know, that’s weird. So I just say ‘gaming’ and ‘chilling’ or ‘rotting’, but it's really boring, you know? No wonder nobody wants to talk to me.

Maybe I am just a normal guy with a loving family, driven mad by loneliness.

“Aren’t you meeting someone soon?” My sister asked, sipping her drink.

My spine straightened as I was thrust back into reality - away from my hard-to-understand thoughts.

“Uh… yeah.” I replied, my voice low.

“Just someone from the internet.”

My dad side-eyed me, and my sister rolled her eyes.

“Hope you don’t get killed, or something.” She said.

In my head, I replied: ‘No, I just want to be ravaged’. But, you know. I can’t really say that to my sister.

I can’t say anything. It's not like I can be myself in this world.

We finished dinner silently like we always have, and nothing of note happened, like usual.

My family really are simple people.

I went back up to my room, to continue talking to this stranger I was about to meet.

---

“Hey, pup. How is?”

This handsome stranger asked me. He is a wolf, and I am a wolf.

We are both perverts deep down, drawn together by our wolf-like instincts.

“I’m alright…” I reply back, giving a weak smile to myself.

Instantly, he replies.

“Really? No long rant yet?”

I chuckle to myself.

“Nope.” I reply.

He then sends a photo of him flexing.

Ah, I haven’t even introduced this stranger yet. His name is Rory, and he’s a ‘jock god’. At least, that’s what I like to call him as such in my stories I wrote about him.

Even seeing a bicep gets me weak. Speaking of biceps, aren't they just one of the most attractive parts of a man?

Every time I think about my school crush, I remember how he invited me to an arm wrestle.

Really, he shouldn't have done that, because I was tenting up under the table the whole time.

He gave me that kind warm smile like I always remembered, and I started to realise that he was not like other people at the school. He was nice.

I guess that just made me fall in love with him even more.

Nice guys...

Especially big buff nice guys.

Of course, I didn't put up much of a resistance in the arm wrestle. Before I could blink, my arm was already smacked down onto the table. But all the while, I couldn't stop looking at his muscles tensing, and his happy, smiling face. He was a really handsome guy, and attracted the most good looking girls of the school. But really, I just wanted him to cuddle me.

Damn, why am I crying?

I never should’ve told myself that I’m not worthy of love.

I wish my high school crush impregnated every girl at the school. I know he was chad enough for that.

To be honest, a lot of people end up stopping talking to me for one reason or another. Maybe I don't give them what they want anymore, or maybe I weirded them out with how open I am. I also noticed that I tend to dump information and give off desperate vibes. But Rory always asks how my day is. He hasn't said a single thing to hurt me.

I wipe my tears away from my eyes as I continue scrolling Twitter, looking at all the handsome dragons on there.

Yeah, dragons.

Those are my current obsession now.

I can't say exactly when it started, but it started when I met my friend, Sylpharion.

I confided in him about a lot of things; the way I feel, what happened to me, what I'm doing...

I guess, for a long time, I've just latched onto people, because I was lonely.

But this gooner bro is the best, because I legitimately like him.

From there, I met 'Rory'.

And oh boy, the things that we've shared together...

Without thinking, I told him my kinks immediately.

And he didn't respond with judgement, but he joined in.

Later on, he joined my discord server too, and joined in some calls with me and some other random gooners that I used to speak to.

A lot of things have happened since then, and now I like to keep my circle small. But sometimes, when I feel like it, I message my ‘daddy’, Rory.

He seems to be a nice fellow. He has his own life, with his own responsibilities and things to do. But he always takes time to reply to my messages about what I’m doing in life.

I guess it makes me feel less lonely. That’s why I talk to daddies.

Eventually, we agreed to meet at a bar, of all places. Oh, great! A place full of people… But, really, it's not all that bad. Agh, but enough of moping about! It's time to go out there, and meet my handsome daddy!

I rush to the bathroom to get my appearance made.

On that day, I never put so much effort into my appearance.

I made sure that every part of me was perfect.

My hair, my face, my looks… even the way that I stand, and speak.

I’m determined to make a good impression.

I don’t want anyone to judge me harshly anymore. I just want to be myself, be free, and be alive…

I smile to myself in the mirror. I don’t look at myself in the mirror very often at all, instead preferring to shy away. But I truly looked really handsome today.

I know that, if I really tried, and never gave up, I would be able to keep going out there, and meet new friends.

Suddenly, I find myself being glad that I decided to trust again.

I’m so excited to meet this new person.

It's in the city centre too, and I haven’t been there in years.

My smile never leaving my face, I swing the door open, ready to greet ‘Rory’, who said he’d be waiting by the bar.

The pub is surrounded in an orange, warm light, and the sounds and laughter of other people fill my heart. I forgot what it feels like to go outside, to be honest. I forgot that, out there, there’s a completely different world, and that it's what I need to feel less lonely.

To be honest, I almost completely forgot about Rory. I was too focused on the fact that I had driven myself this far. But eventually, I noticed him at the bar, wearing that same tank top that I used to goon over for nights on end… And his big muscles on show, too.

My dick throbbed.

My heart panged.

Oh god, it's happening again.

It's the feeling of my emotions.

Will they get hurt again this time?

I walked up to him, slowly. Rory was sipping on a drink, his head low. No phone in hand, no earphones in, just a true down-to-earth guy, living in the moment.

Of course, I already know he’s quite a good looking fellow, so there were quite a lot of people offering him a drink, but each and every time he declined, stating that he’s waiting for ‘someone more important’.

“Hey, Rory?” I asked, my meek voice not sounding like my own, but a young boy’s.

In an instant, Rory’s ears twitched, and he slowly moved around to face me.

Upon the sight of me, a warm smile spread across his face.

“Tristan.” He said, sounding so glad to be here. His voice was as deep and as rich as I heard in those voice messages he sent over Telegram. You know, the same voice messages that I used to play on repeat to send myself to sleep, or to beat myself off to. Just wait until he says ‘Good boy’...

My tail was already wagging heavily behind me, and Rory cleared his throat, his face focusing.

"Hey, pup. What is it? Is this your first time seeing a real man?" He said suddenly, in that deep voice that I adore so much.

For months, we used to imagine how we would meet.

We even roleplayed too. But the fact that he’s doing it here, out in the real world…

I let him have the stage, because he's not wrong after all. This is my first time seeing a proper man in the flesh in a long time, and here is Rory, just standing there with his big fuck-off arms out, acting all chill like. He must know how ridiculously horny I get over daddies.

A deep blush rose on his face as he realised how flustered I got over him.

"Yeah, you really are a pup." He smirked, then walked closer to me.

“So cute…” He said, his voice trailing off as he stroked my chin.

It's that kind of cocky yet soft confidence, like you know his stomach is just fluttering with love right now, and Rory is definitely the type of dude to let his dick control him.

"I know." I moaned, my eyes never leaving his magnificent body.

Before we met, Rory spammed the fuck out of my Twitter DMs with father and son content. You name it, literally every artist under the sun has made that kind of stuff now, and he made sure to send every piece like that to me personally.

But he wasn't weird about it. He didn't say things like 'I want to absolutely slam fuck your virgin cunt and make you moan like the stupid cute twink you are', even though I know he really wanted to. Instead, he said things like “Damn, this could be us, pup” dry chuckle and “Looks cool”. Yeah, he had that totally casual attitude about him, so when I met him in person, I knew he wasn't going to absolutely blastfuck my brains out. At least, not yet.

Within our first meeting, I could tell that Rory was someone who wouldn't judge.

"I really wanna kiss you man," he said, all of a sudden.

"Like, really."

I blushed back.

"Yeah, me too."

You know, I've always been this horny boy. To be honest, I was never good at hiding it before, and I got a lot of people and myself in trouble. It's kind of scary, looking back. But just thinking about my loving dad, Rory, being here with me, makes me so happy.

“Let’s… have a drink.” I said to Rory, but more to myself. After all, I wanted to calm my nerves.

It's a cider.

"A pup's favourite alcohol," Rory said to me, smiling to himself.

I damn well near spilled the drink. My hands are shaking. 'Did he just call me pup?' I think to myself.

I know it to be true, and I glance to my side again, taking in his wonderful muscles and his amazing, Adonis-like appearance.

Rory was drinking a beer.

"That's a dad's drink," I say to him, causing him to quickly clear his throat, his cock harshly pulsating in his jeans.

He drags his stool next to mine, the loud scraping of wood clawing against the floor, and kisses me firmly on the lips.

"Then you're my son," he says to me, in that same masculine voice he always has.

A shiver of excitement runs up my body, and it feels like I just came in my pants.

"Can we have sex?" I ask.

"Only if you write about it." Rory smiles.

We are drawn together to a long, passionate kiss, and I can feel his warm tongue grace my mouth. It feels like the touch of a rose, but still, very much like a rose, my daddy’s kiss was very fiery, and the feeling of his stubble rubbing against my bare chin was quite thorny - I do say, it made me quite horny!

He invited me upstairs, where he had already reserved a room for us.

I smile at his preparedness. Maybe he knew this day would come, when the two of us would not be able to take our hands off each other.

I think Rory proved to me that there are good people in the world.

Maybe my body does not want me to be happy. But my heart does.