Orcish Family
Nothing can reinforce a bond between a Dad and his Son like fucking
Commission for Boto
Orcish Family
Nothing can reinforce a bond between a Dad and his Son like fucking
“Jason, I told you to put the plates in the dishwasher!”
“Sorry, Dad!”
“Don’t be sorry! Just do it! And take out the trash!”
It was almost a shouting match between him and me. Or rather, it was a match with my Son still in his room, upstairs, and me handling the remnants of our late dinner.
Dirty dishes, dirty pan, dirty table. Yet, I had to do it because I knew, back then, Jason wouldn’t do it on his own unless I grabbed him by the nape and rubbed all against his face.
Something I wouldn’t do.
Not that I couldn’t. Even if Jason had grown well over the years and had gained that bulky build from his years in college, he was still my Son. He could kick, scream, but I had the authority in that house.
But no… It was more of a personal matter, a problem that stuck with me. But even if that day was memorable, the events that led to those circumstances were… Peculiar.
Ever since my divorce and my son moving out for college, I have had the house for myself. I strutted around in briefs, woke up when I wanted, and did things on my schedule between my job as a coach and my little routine with the TV shows.
I was having a good time, lonely as it might get.
But the day Jason returned home? He warned me he was back in town with a text. I didn’t know where he was, if he needed a ride, if he would stay with me or a girlfriend.
He told me nothing. And… yet, when I went home. I found him.
Sprawled on the couch, almost naked with a single jockstrap on, watching TV, and scratching his belly. In a way, Jason was and is no different than me. He had not bothered to check the door when it opened… I was almost absent and out of his mind when he finally noticed me.
Here it was. The first event.
My son ran towards me with his arms wide open. In a way, he looked exactly like me at his age: short-cut hair, green skin without a hint of gray, prominent tusks, bearded and with dark hair peppering his arms, chest, belly, and legs. Even his bulge was impressive, drenched as it was. And taller than I am, he grabbed me in his embrace, not caring as I had my face nestled between his pectorals.
And as much as I had been fighting and shouting my Son’s name, even punching his guts, he wouldn’t let me go.
That was it.
It lasted only one minute, tops. Nothing more. Nothing less. But… There is a secret not many Orcs would dare to admit. With age, our noses get refined. We smell things differently, better in many ways, worse in others. But some Orcs? Like me? Oh… It gets… Spicier! As we grow older, we Orcs learn to stray away from each other or to bathe in human cologne to drown our musk. Not that we have a distaste for each other's smells… But if one were to find another Orc’s scent… Pleasing, it was a sign we are to be soulmates.
Jason didn’t know about that tacit rule. He only knew about his old Dad, who would accept a hug, and not of his old Dad, who would pop a stiffy should he get a sniff.
It was a switch. A moment when I felt all my libido, I thought gone since my divorce, hitting me back, leading me to drown my trousers in precum by the time I escaped my Son’s grasp.
But it continued.
As a young adult, Jason was… Pretty experimental with his sexuality. And prone to forgetting the virtues of privacy. Similarly to me in my isolation. The number of times I’d walk on him masturbating to loud porn. Or strut around the house with a morning wood, with his used briefs barely holding on.
The bathroom reeked of Orcish musk after each passage inside, as if he were sly in cumming where he could wash himself.
He wasn’t. And me? I was a mess.
I was afraid of myself and my needs.
After a life of composure and controlled needs, I was thrown back into the woes of hormonal needs. Just like a teenager, I would pop a stiffy everywhere for no reason. That young Orc looked like my Son? Stiffy. One smell reminded me of my Son? Stiffy. I was naked under the shower? Stiffy.
My body was giving me the ample leisure to masturbate with as much energy, if not more, than my Son. And over what? That same Son!
My very blood. The Son I raised the moment I took him in my arms. I taught him to ride a bike, to play football, to drive, and to seduce girls. I even had the awkward discussion of showing him how to put on a condom by using a spray can for the demonstration!
And I was lusting after him! No, I was considering him to be my Soulmate.
Days! Nights! I wouldn’t dare to moan his name, but sure as hell I was thinking about it when I was biting my lips and shooting in tissues. I tripled my tissues budget on my own…
So… When I was in the kitchen that evening, cleaning the table for the umpteenth time. I was about to make a decision. I thought… I thought at that moment if I helped my Son move out, everything would go back to normal.
A little condo somewhere near the center of town, or a new place in a new city. Anything. I would have to sell our house and move to something smaller, but it was possible.
I braced myself, took a deep breath, and, without making much noise, climbed upstairs.
The sound of the Football match on the TV must have drowned out my presence.
The door to my Son’s room was closed, though unlocked. The lights were on, I could see them through… And my Son’s rock playlist was going, though at an almost discreet volume.
I held my breath, and I carefully mouthed the words I was about to say. And... I opened the door.
“Jason! We need to talk ab-out…”
There was something I hadn't considered when I opened the door.
Surely, I expected to find my Son having a wank and I had braced myself for it. But in my focus on my problem, I hadn’t noticed… My Son’s desires.
I hadn’t noticed the glances I received when I returned home, or how my Son was always excited to see me out of the shower or strolling around.
Nor had I noticed that Jason was strangely interested in handling our laundry.
Those details, however, smacked me right in the face when I saw Jason masturbating… While sniffing my underwear.
Precisely one of the jockstraps I wore during an intense workout session. I could see the stains on the white fabric, the same fabric my Son rubbed across his face with a sly and stupid smile… Before he turned to me and changed, going from pleased to flustered.
I watched him. He watched me.
I had to act; to do something.
My hand left the door-handle, and I got closer, though I could hear something coming from Jason. Was it an excuse? Was it a tentative explanation? My ears were ringing so loud, I couldn’t hear anything.
I grabbed my underwear from his hand, finding no resistance from my Son. His eyes were meeting mine. I leaned closer, closer. He tried to lean back, farther from me.
But he couldn’t bend more than that on his bean bag. And as he was almost lying down, he huffed and said something. I struck.
My hips met with his, his tusks almost clicking against mine.
Jason’s eyes widened for a second, but a second later, he closed his eyes and his lips opened. His tongue was like mine, wide and long. But it didn’t fight when I kissed him, when my tongue slipped inside his mouth and I tasted my own sweat amidst the pork chops and the cheap beer my Son always bought.
Finally, my hands ran across my Son’s muscular body, over that hairy chest, those abdominal muscles. I pulled back, a thread of saliva joining our mouths before it landed on our beards, and I heard him.
“Are you not angry at me?”
“I don’t care. I want us to fuck.”
It was the instincts and hormones speaking. But they spoke true; my first action was to have my hands under my Son’s arm, lifting it… And my face rushed to meet with his armpits.
Just like I expected at that instant, I was struck by the potent aroma of a young Orc who had recently worked out.
The sweat was sticking to his hairy pits, to the tuft of black hair that had grown thick and rugeous just like mine. And I began to worship it, to have my tongue rush across that tuft and that sensitive green skin.
It was… Like a high. Like being drugged, being drunk. But better. It was much better as I was perfectly in control of myself, except for my lust. My hands were not trembling when I had them run across my Son’s chest, digging into those chiseled abdominal muscles or test the pectorals’ tense presence.
My breath was quick and fast, but it was from me taking shallow breaths after each lick, giving myself no rest in sampling my Son’s taste: salty, intense, musky, just like me.
And he wasn’t… Adverse to it.
Jason had one hand on his cock, hard again. And then, another went on my sides, on my hips, then my ass.
He dug into my meaty and muscular ass, chuckling while I continued my exploration and worship. I licked, nibbled, and my mouth naturally drifted from the saliva-riddled armpit to the pectoral. I covered the nearest one with kisses until most of the green skin was starting to get red from the hickies.
“Dad.”
Jason’s voice was loud, heavy… But I couldn’t resist the need to go for the other pec before a hand went on my nape. I looked up, saw my Son again. Saw his toothy grin, his raised brows, and the saucy attitude he had.
“I need it, Son. I need you, Jason,” I mumbled.
“That’s good, Dad. I don’t want it any other way,” he said as he grabbed me by the face and shoulders.
At that moment, I learned that my Son was indeed strong like I was. But he was far stronger than I had been at his age. And he pushed my face away, solely to grip me by the shoulders and arms and throw me on his bed like a fucktoy.
Amidst the aging pastel blue sheets and the one-man-sized bed, there was not much space to move.
But it didn’t matter when my Son ripped my underwear off, revealing his aching and needy cock. Wide, with a mushroom tip, uncut with the foreskin partially covering the glans.
My Son saw this… And what did he do? He pushed my chest until I was lying down. My Son spat on my cock. He spat a fat glob of saliva on it and stroked it, laughing.
“Fuck yes. I knew you were into me, Dad! Such a Daddy slut!” he said, with a mix of spite and glee. “I told my friends, they wouldn’t believe me. But that’s what you are! A slut for me!”
My Son’s words hit me deep… But rather than fighting them, I nodded.
Jason’s hand drifted from my chest to my legs, to my thighs, to my ass as he forced me to lift it all up. I did not fight, though my back was killing me. And for the first day of my life… I was to bottom. I was to bottom for my Son.
My hairy ass was presented, but he kept stroking me with such speed and pressure that my cock started to ache.
“Show me your ass, Dad! You know you want it! Your Son’s cock inside your cunt!”
I dug deeper into my hairy and muscular ass, feeling the soreness from the pressure as well as the uneasiness from having my asshole so exposed. I could feel the air rushing in my asscrack, teasing my tight pucker.
I never took a dick before, not even a toy. And just the sensation of that air rushing against my rim sent me trembling… Almost moaning, too.
But I held on and swallowed my saliva, tried to show a tough front for my son.
Not sure it did matter much for Jason.
He stroked, his hands squeezing and masturbating us. Me? Je was squeezing so hard it was like he was strangling my cock. Not really, but it was intense and forceful. Even with my latest fling, no one had held my cock as hard. And him? He went for a lighter grip but stroking just as fast, his index fingers titillating his foreskin and frenum, spreading precum all over it…
“Hhh… Do-Do it, Son! Don’t… Don’t keep me waiting!”
“Huuun… Is the bitch trying to order me?”
“Language, Jason.”
“You lost your privilege for it when you spread your slutty legs when I asked you to, Dad,” scoffed my Son as he leaned forward.
This time, he didn’t spit on my cock. But soon, I could feel his thighs against mine, his cock pressing against mine, his fingers dancing on our flesh. And his lips going closer… Much closer. And again, we kissed. But he took that kiss from me.
He forced our lips together, our tusks rubbing and grinding, while he had his cock grinding against mine.
It felt good; it felt heavenly to have his hairy balls rubbing mine. And then lower, on the perineum.
We kissed, though each breath was marked by my Son’s hips pushing back and forth, smearing his precum all over my pubes. The room already reeked of his smell… But at that moment, I bore his perfume, too.
“Marked like a bitch, Dad. Don’t worry, I’ll make you one, too,” laughed Jason as he pulled free, licking his lips clean of our saliva… And grinning while his hips moved and his cock slid along my groin, my cock, my balls…. My perineum until his rigid and drippy cocktip pressed against my asshole.
My tight pucker he… toyed with. One press, one smear, one tease. And I was all quivering and trembling, readjusting my grip on my ass constantly.
“Fuck Dad. You’re tight for a bitch!”
“It’s… It’s my first time, Son.”
“No way. With the way you showed me your ass, I thought you were an ass queen,” laughed Jason, using one of his large mittens to deliver a smack on my thighs, then another on my ass once I moved my fingers away. “I’ll pop your cherry, then.”
I gulped.
Did I expect my Son to be so… Perverse?
No. I thought I’d taught him well, made him understand the virtue of being respectful to females, to woo a heart with strength and perseverance. But here was my Son, talking to me like a cheap drug-addicted whore.
And… I liked it.
I bit my lips, savoring his aroma on them… And I braced myself when his cock was again squeezing against my back door.
First push… A slip.
Second push… A slip.
Third push… My hole tensed but did not give out.
Fourth? I felt the muscles starting to give out and the associated pain.
“Hey, Dad. A bitch says what?”
“Wh-What?” I said, between hissing and gritting teeth.
Distracted by the remark, Jason… Pushed in.
My asshole, barely lubed, took it in. Then, my ass was afire. Worse, it was like I was about to be crushed from inside.
My Son is bigger than I am… And at that moment, I experienced it with my sphincter being stretched so much, I felt like I had a whole fist stuffed inside.
I hissed between my teeth, I huffed, I quivered… I even dug my fingers so deeply that my knuckles were starting to ache.
But he was inside. The tip? Probably. Maybe more? I couldn’t tell.
I felt like my own eyes were drilled into my skull.
My lips were dry like cardboard, my tongue like sandpaper. It did hurt… It hurt a lot, but I held on… I hissed, clenched my teeth and…
“Hey, Dad.”
“Not… Saying… What.” I coughed.
“If you want to take it easy, relax. Every bitch should know that.”
“I- I don’t.”
“Then breathe. Be a good bitch for your son. Breathe.”
“B… Breathe?” I scoffed.
At that moment, it felt so absurd. Even shallow breaths were hurting.
But my Son watched me, frowning and angry. He wasn’t even moving his hips or trying to go deeper; he was just there, watching menacingly and waiting for me to follow his orders.
Then… I exhaled.
I emptied my lungs, leaving nothing… Then I took a long, deep breath. And again, encouraged by Jason.
Steadily… I felt the pain in my ass lessen.
No, even the fire was practically gone. Though there remained the sensation of fullness right in my guts… And the sensation of weight that wouldn’t budge from within.
“You are such a whore for a virgin, Dad,” laughed Jason, smacking my ass again.
“Y-Yeah. If you say so,” I grumbled. But feeling more at ease.
A sensation that stopped when Jason punched in again, advanced… And I instinctively clenched my asscheeks and legs. The result was the pain skyrocketing and my breathing turning shallow again.
“Don’t try to clench, it’ll hurt more, Dad.”
“How… Do you… Know that?!” I asked, huffing… And trying to catch my breath.
“You’re not the first I fucked in the ass, Dad. But no one had an ass like you,” Jason answered, stroking my hairy buttcheeks. “So fatty.”
“I’m… Hrmph… Not fat.”
“You could be, would be good on you,” commented Jason, digging his fingers into my ass, teasing it.
“Fuck…”
“Fuck… Me?”
I grunted in answer. But yes, I wanted to say ‘fuck you’ to my son, to throw an insult at him for getting under my skin so easily.
The same way his cock was going far more easily inside me, the more he needled me. I think he did it to distract me from the pain and the sensation. And it worked…
It worked so well, I soon had to move my fingers so my Son’s thighs wouldn’t crush them. And… A moment later, my reddened and abused cheeks were rubbing against Jason’s ballsack.
Breathing remained hard. I still felt stuffed like a turkey. But I could relax as I threw my head back on the pillows and… Felt my Son’s warm breath on my neck.
“I’ll breed you, Dad. Just like a female.”
“Urgh… Wh-Whatever,” I groaned.
He nibbled my neck, kissed it, licked the sweat out of my skin, too.
And his hands held onto my knees, pushing them closer to my chest until it started to hurt, then he stopped. But by then, I was already folded… And my Son? He was steadily pulling back.
The relief I felt was bliss… Was joyful… Pleasant.
A bliss stopped when he punched my guts again, and I hissed, I trembled, I arched my back.
“Your hole is so good, Dad!”
“Glad… To… hear!” I huffed.
I huffed more when my Son went in entirely, hilting in my hole… And then starting that back-and-forth that would wreck my guts. Slow… Steady… Careful.
Even though that cocky Brat had that smug attitude, his eyes never left me. He would slow down when I hissed. He would quicken the pace when I relaxed. And when he was fully in, he was happily grinding his hips against mine to make me feel that throbbing erection inside me. My Son’s erection… My Son’s stiff and rigid cock was digging my hole.
“Oh… yeah… Get ready, Dad. I’ll start.”
“S-Start?” I asked.
I got the answer.
Not in words. But through the brutal thrusts and the gut-punch I received. Jason had pulled back, right to the cocktip. And then, with that speed, he punched back in. He didn’t leave me any room to breathe.
He pulled back again and punched back. Again. Again. Again.
I cried. My voice began to hurt. My whole body tensed and clenched. But amidst all this, there was… Something. Beneath the pain, there was the pleasure as I felt my Son’s stiff erection digging against one spot while progressing deep within my hole.
A pleasure, a pleasant sensation that was steadily picking up…
A joy… A satisfaction that continued to grow and soon overtook everything I experienced.
My Son was ravaging my hole, abusing it. But the more he did, the more excited I felt.
My cock, soft a moment before, raged and spurted against Jason’s belly. And mine.
I gasped, I cried, I smiled.
I smiled after each kiss that was forced on me by my grunting and powerful Son, feeling how intense his breeding was. He wasn’t taking it easy…
He was breeding me.
Just like I bred his mom before we got him. He was fucking me… Taking me… Giving his all to make sure I was bred correctly. And it felt… Divine after a while.
The pain? The tension? The fullness? Everything was gone by the moment my Son’s fucking became a ceaseless clapping sound from his nuts against my ass.
I no longer held onto the pain, either. My knuckles were white from holding onto the sheets while my Son crushed me from outside and inside.
His cock battered my guts, left no spot untouched… And more than that, he made me… Happy.
So happy and satisfied as he ruined my hole, as he made my asshole squirt from all the precum stuffed inside me, as he made my cock tremble and shoot.
Once… Twice… Thrice?
Those orgasms, those ejaculations, I didn’t count them. He didn’t either.
But surely, I was a mess, repainted in white. My cum stuck to my belly, to my pubes. It stuck to his body, too. And it was so good.
So enthralling as our bodies were rubbing together, his sweat dripping all over me. If he were over me, I’d have my face rubbed against his sweaty pectorals, against the tuft on them.
Instead, I was… Just at eye level to see the excitation building up on my Son’s face, to see the teeth gritting, the tusks digging into his lips.
He was feeling it, too. The ecstasy, the joy, the need. Even if we Orcs are pretty enduring in bed and are making an effort to last for more than most males… There is always a moment when we reach our limit.
I admired my Son reaching that limit with me. I saw another male clenching his teeth and about to cum…
And I embraced my Son, had one weak arm wrapped around his back as I sampled the saliva and the muffled cry of pleasure.
Still, even as I felt my Son’s cum pouring in my asshole, he continued to thrust. Weakly, maybe. But he continued to thrust, his cock pumping inside my aching and burning asshole until it all stopped. And he dropped.
His hands didn’t move, nor did his legs.
His lips escaped mine as he crushed me, and gave me quite the ballscrusher when he pulled back and squeezed my nuts with his groin. But it was… great.
My legs ached, my asshole was so gaped and burning, I was thinking I’d gotten a prolapse or something. But all this stopped when I had my face buried in my Son’s hairy chest.
I could feel something tingling in my belly, besides the sensation of hot cum sloshing in my guts.
But I was not afraid of it.
I was rather… Happy. Satisfied even as I wrapped my weak arms around my Son’s back, pulling him closer to me.
I couldn’t have cared less about everything that happened that night and the days after when I felt myself slipping.
-
Alas… That’s what I thought.
Even now, at that moment, I consider it to be one of the best moments that has happened in my life. Not the best… No, the band on my finger and the fucking that followed after the ceremony can attest it.
But it was such a good moment, one I cannot even pry myself from it whenever I see him, the moment I step out of the bathroom… My Son. Naked… In our bed.
He moved into my bedroom, and we converted his old bedroom into a shared office so he can work from home at his new company.
Everything is fine… Everything is perfect as I join him, and feel his lips locking on my neck, covering it with kisses.
“Come here,” he says… Though his hands are ready on my belly, stroking the taut skin, helping me shift my weight as I go from waddling to crashing on our king-sized bed.
Somehow, with the weight pressing on my guts, I have a newfound respect for all the females bearing their pregnancies with a stiff upper lip.
Me?
There’s not a day without feeling my back killing me from the added weight or my belly burning from the pressure within.
My entire body aches. Even then, I almost feel better when I smell my Son’s musk, I smell the sweat sticking to his skin.
“I am already feeling it. He’s feisty,” mumbles Jason, his lips descending along my gorge… Right onto my backed-up breasts.
I didn’t know it would be possible. I didn’t know giving in to the thirst, to my Soulmate, would make it happen. But the ninth month grows close… My body is already prepared, my chest so heavy I can only find solace from Jason’s lips locking onto my erect nipples, squeezing milk out of my tits.
“So tasty,” he mumbles, gulping down that milk like no end. Maybe it is linked with our alcohol abstinence. Perhaps he did it to help me dealing with the pregnancy… Or because he cannot stop drinking from my teats.
Nevertheless, it feels so good… So good I don’t even mind as his hands rush to lift my legs, to push them higher… And to expose my swollen and plugged asshole. Under my Son’s training, it no longer hurts when he takes me.
There’s only pleasure. Anticipation as he pulls the absurdly massive plug from my hole and teases my gaping entrance with his cock.
“Fuck… Again, Son? It’s the third time in an hour. I took a shower,” I grumble.
“Another fuck won’t hurt,” he says, though I can feel his cum already oozing from my hairy hole and on the liquid-proof sheets. “And if I can put another baby in that old oven.”
“Old?” I scoff, gripping his face to force it into another kiss, into sampling my sweet milk amidst his saliva. “I’ll show you how old I am. Jason.”
Even though it might hurt a bit tomorrow, I stand on my knees and push him onto his back. All efforts so that I can ride my Son’s dick. And prove to him his old man can endure.
“You’ll regret your words in a few minutes, Jason,” I smirk… Happy to ride my husband’s cock.