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The late-August sun beat down, oppressive and stifling. Nearly every person at the bus stop was soaked with sweat, and as Rob took in a deep, calming breath, he couldn't help but notice the sweaty aroma filling the air. Anyone else would probably grimace and hold their breath, or do what they could to block the scent out as politely as possible, but not Rob. The massive brick-shithouse of a boar was used to the stink that wafted off a man's body at the end of a long day of honest work--even relished it a little when it came from his fellows at the construction company where he worked--so he was right at home leaning back on the bench and relaxing as he waited.

His musing was cut off as the last bus of the day finally pulled in, its brakes squeaking as it rumbled to a stop. Rob's wandering gaze moved to the doors of the bus as they swung open to let a tide of sweaty passengers out onto the street. No, no, no, there! A younger boar stepped off of the bus and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Mark!"

Rob paid no attention to the glances he was getting as he shot to his feet and raised an arm up high, calling out to the younger boar with boisterous, barely-concealed glee. Mark caught sight of the older, salt-and-pepper-maned boar, and his expression broke into a wide grin that matched Rob's. "Dad!" He pushed through the crowd, paying no mind to the grunts and curses thrown his way as he barreled through to jump at his father and embrace the older male. Rob wrapped his arms tight around his son, practically engulfing the smaller male in his bulk while burying his face in the scruff of Mark's neck; neither paid any mind to the bulge in the father's pants pressing against his son's own plump belly.

"Fuck, it's been too long already, boy. Lemme get a good look at'cha!" Rob gently pushed Mark away so he could look the younger boar up and down with a warm, paternal smile.

"Dad, it's only been a week since I left."

"That's what I said." Rob guffawed and clapped his son's shoulders. "Come on, let's get in the car and on our way, yeah? You need any help with yer bag? How's school goin'? You settlin' in with Jimmy alright?"

"Sounds like a plan, I got it, pretty good, and really good." Mark chuckled and rolled his eyes while fending off the wave of questions from his father, following the older boar to the beat-up old pickup parked nearby. He tossed his bag into the truck bed, and then climbed up into the passenger seat while Rob moved around to the driver's side. Once they were settled in, Rob revved the engine and peeled out with an almost urgent eagerness.

As he drove, the older boar shot the occasional glance at the younger boar and noticed Mark looking to him as well. It had only been a week since Mark had left for his second year of college, but as Rob had said, that week had already been way too long. The two boars shifted in their seats as the stink of their sweaty bodies started to fill the cab--the truck's failing AC was no match for the combined musk of two hot, sweaty, mature boars in the last few days of summer.

Rob made it halfway out of town before it became too much for him. He pulled over to the side of the road, his face already burning as he shifted into park, and threw his seatbelt off to turn and fully face his son. "Mark-"

The older boar was cut off as Mark surged across the console into a deep, hungry, passionate kiss with his father. One of Mark's hands went to the back of Rob's head, holding the older boar's head in place as their lips mashed together and their tongues danced, while the other reached down to press against the tent in his father's jeans. He rubbed and stroked the hard cock through the rough fabric, and Rob's eyes slipped shut as he moaned into the kiss. Mark broke it off to grind his tusks against Rob's, and took a moment to suckle on the chipped tip of his father's left tusk before pressing his forehead to the older boar's. "I missed you, dad. I missed this."

"Fuck me, I missed it, too. Been thinkin' about this past summer all week while you were away." Rob's hips rocked in his seat when his son found the plump curve of his fat, heavy ballsack and gave the orbs a squeeze through his jeans. He looked down to Mark's lap, catching sight of the large tent in his son's own shorts.

"Yeah? Been jerking off to it, Dad? Thinking about everything we did over summer break?"

"Hell yeah, boy. And everythin' I want you doin' to me over the weekend."

The two shared wide, toothy grins with each other, as well as another hungry kiss. Then their fingers entwined and rested on the console between them while Rob shifted back into drive.

On the short journey back to the house, Rob thought about everything that had happened since that one weekend Mark had thought to surprise his father by coming home early. Rob had always been attracted to men, even if he'd had to hide it in the good-ol'-boy community in which he'd grown up and raised Mark; and with his ex-wife long gone and his son off at college, he'd wanted to finally explore the feelings he'd kept hidden for so long. He'd set up a hookup--a grizzled fox about his age--and invited the other male over to the house one Friday night for some fun.

What Rob hadn't known at the time was that Mark had followed in his footsteps pretty damn close--the younger boar was horny, kinky, and gay as the day was long. Imagine the younger boar's surprise when he came home from college for the weekend that day, ready to surprise his father, and had answered the door to an older fox ready for a hookup. The fox had mistaken the boy for his father--either his eyesight was failing, or the pics Rob had sent to the fox when they'd emailed each other to set up their 'date' had been better than the older boar had thought--and Mark, ever down to fuck, had gone right along with it.

Imagine Rob's surprise when he finished drying off from his shower and made his way butt-naked out to the living room, only to find his hookup kneeling between his half-dressed son's spread legs, huffing the musk right off of the younger boar's painfully-hard cock.

Of course, that had ended Rob's hookup--the fox had bounced when he realized his mistake, embarrassed and more than a little weirded out. Rob and Mark, meanwhile, had ended up having a long, painfully-awkward conversation with each other; Rob had to come out to his son, admitting to the homosexual desires that had been left to fester for most of his life, and Mark had come out to his father in turn. The two shared a few hugs, a pizza, and some beers as they talked, slowly coming to an understanding with each other; in the end, Rob was still Mark's father, and Mark was still Rob's son, and they loved each other just as much as they had before.

As the night grew late, the conversation between the two had grown more and more frank and open. The types of men they were attracted to, and what they wanted to do with those men. Mark admitted that he had an attraction to older males--it may have been the beer, or maybe the thrill of getting walked in on by Rob, but Mark had admitted that his father was the source and starting point of that attraction. And it might've been the beer, or the sweaty smell of the two men as they practically cuddled together on the couch, or the peek at his son's cock that he'd managed while his hookup was busy worshipping it, but Rob had offered to pick up where the fox had left off.

That was the first time he'd sucked his son's cock. And when the two woke up in each others' arms on Rob's bed the next morning, hung-over and naked, they both had realized that they didn't want it to be the last.

Rob was broken out of his reverie as the house--a small, white-painted ranch-style, sitting right near the open road--finally came into view. He turned into the short gravel drive, parked, and looked over to his son while giving the younger boar's hand a squeeze. "We're home, boy."

"Yeah." The two reluctantly unclasped their hands, and Mark hopped out of the truck and grabbed his bag from the back. Immediately, the younger boar rushed around to Rob's side to grasp his father's hand once more. With a small peck on the cheek, Rob smiled and locked the truck before leading his son inside.

Mark only had time to toss his bag onto the couch--the same couch from that Friday so long ago, though a little more worn and stained from the fun the two had with each other over the intervening year--before Rob grabbed his son and pulled the younger boar into another embrace. Again their tongues danced and their tusks ground together while Rob tugged Mark's sweat-stained t-shirt up. When he broke the kiss to pull the shirt off and toss it aside, Rob immediately pushed down below his son's raised arm and pressed his flat snout right into the tuft of wiry, sweaty fur beneath.

As his father inhaled the raunchy, spicy musk of his armpit, Mark reached around to grasp the older boar's plump, cushy ass and pull his father against his young, strong body. Rob moaned and started suckling the sweat right out of his son's pit fur, the taste burning on his tongue and making his cock strain all the harder against the confines of his jeans. "Son..." the word rumbled with naked, desperate desire, muttered into Mark's fur as Rob rocked his hips back into Mark's grip and reached between their bodies to start undoing the buttons of his own shirt.

"Dad." Mark answered his father's desire with his own, burning just as hot as the older boar's lust. He tugged at the graying mane atop of his father's head, pulling Rob out of his armpit and into another kiss. He then batted the older boar's hands away and took over undressing his father for himself. Undoing the buttons of Rob's shirt with deft, practiced fingers. Tugging it out of the older boar's jeans, and pushing it off Rob's shoulders to fall to the ratty carpet below. As he toyed with the fly of Rob's jeans, undoing the button and tugging them open, his pressed his face into his father's strong chest; sweat-soaked fur ground against his cheek, and iron-hard, tightly-coiled muscles flexed beneath a pillowy layer of fat. And there, quiet but strong--his father's heartbeat. "Dad." Again, that word passed Mark's lips, filled with so many emotions that had blossomed along with his relationship with his father. He rubbed his face in between the older boar's pectorals, and finally settled his snout into the musky crook of his father's own armpit. "You stink so good."

"So do you, boy." Rob let out an indulgent chuckle and pressed a kiss to the crown of his son's head, and then he groaned as Mark's hand pushed into his open fly to cup his package. "I spent all day carryin' bags a' concrete in the hot sun. What's your excuse, boy?"

"Haven't showered since yesterday after practice." Mark glanced up at his father, grinning wide, and finally pushed the older boar's jeans off his hips.

"Fuck, that's hot. That's really fuckin' hot, boy." Rob stepped out of his jeans, his hands on his son's shoulders to push the younger boar back towards the couch. The older boar was left in just a sweat-soaked jockstrap, the pouch tented with his short, but thick erection. Mark could see the outline of the turgid length he'd become so familiar with through the wet fabric--the cock that had sired him, and the balls that had shot him into his mom's womb. He reached for it, wanting to free his father's cock, stroke it and squeeze it and suck the sweat right off the fat nuts like he'd fantasized about all week, but Rob grabbed Mark's wrist and shook his head. "And what about that thing we talked about?" There was shyness in the older boar's voice, but it was a mere tinge to the older boar's perverted, gleeful eagerness.

Mark smirked. He put his hands on his father's shoulders, and the older boar let himself be pushed down onto his knees before his son. "Why don'tcha take a look for yourself, Dad?"

Rob nodded, gulped, and unbuttoned his son's shorts. Pulled down the fly and tugged them down and off. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of his son's own jock; it was filthy. The thin, tight pouch was stained a dingy yellow and reeked of every scent a hormonal, college-aged young man could produce. With a deep, needy groan, Rob buried his face in his son's crotch, inhaling the stench of the younger boar's package and letting his mouth hang open and his tongue press to the soiled fabric. The taste and smell was acrid and briny in some spots, sharp and fishy in others, and always accompanied by the rich, spicy, salty scent and flavor of masculine sweat and musk. Rob fished his own freely-leaking erection out to stroke himself while his lips and tongue teased his son's cock through the filthy jock. "Hell fuckin' yeah, boy. You been wearin' this thing all week?"

"Yessir."

"Jimmy complain about it?"

"Heh, he's as big a slut for manstink as you are, old man." Again, that shameless smirk crossed Mark's face as grasped his father's head and pushed the older boar's snout into the dirty pouch. "Mmmf... humped his face just like this after practice and made him cum so fuckin' hard."

"That's my boy..." After a few more minutes of grinding his face into his son's crotch and breathing in the younger boar's heady, masculine aroma, Rob finally grasped the straps of his son's jock to pull it down and free the real gift he'd been waiting for the entire week: his son's thick, long, uncut cock. The shaft swayed before him and wafted its masculine stink right into Rob's nose as he helped Mark step out of the garment. "On the couch, son." The older boar rose to his feet with a low, deep grunt, and took the opportunity to sniff at the pungent inside of the jockstrap's pouch.

"Yessir." Mark fell back onto the couch and splayed his legs wide to show off his pulsing cock to his father. He grasped it, rolled the foreskin back to display the smut-and-pre-coated head, and then gave his thick shaft a squeeze. "That's it, dad, deep breaths. Tell me what you smell." He moaned and huffed as he started stroking his cock to the sight of his father sniffing his sweaty, musky, unwashed jock.

"I smell cock, boy. Your cock." Rob's eyes were locked onto his son's leaking shaft, his own throbbing at the sight of his son pleasuring himself. He'd wanted to keep the boy uncut--something that caused no end of grief between him and his ex-wife, a small thing, but far from being the only thing--and 20 years later he once again found himself glad he'd stood his ground. Mark's cock was beautiful--thick and curved in just the right spot, with enough length to make any man happy. To make Rob happy. The older boar reached down to squeeze his own erection as it throbbed hard enough to make his old heart flutter.

"You want it, dad? Want it as much as I want yours?" Mark leaned forward to bat Rob's hand away, and roughly tugged the older boar's own jock down. As Rob stepped out of and kicked the discarded garment away, Mark finally grasped his father's erection--the one cock he wanted, needed, adored above every other dick he'd ever seen--and swirled his thumb over the older boar's circumcised head. "Wanna suck the stink right off it? Want it fucking your mouth and blowing a load up your fat, sexy ass?"

"Hell yeah I do, son."

"Fuck, dad, get down here."

Rob collapsed onto the couch next to his son, wrapping an arm around the younger boar's shoulders and pulling Mark into another hungry kiss. His other hand moved to his son's crotch, hefting the younger boar's full, hairy sack in his palm and then gripping and squeezing the pulsing shaft. Mark broke the kiss to lay his head on his father's chest--again, the strong thumping of his father's heartbeat, comforting and nostalgic, resounded in his ears--and stroked Rob's cock in return. There was no shame or shyness in their eyes as father and son held each others' gaze; they'd had plenty of time for all that in the first few days and weeks of their new relationship, when just touching each other like this was to break past a taboo that had loomed over the two of them for their entire lives. When the arousal one caused in the other was something to be hidden, locked away, kept secret in the shadows. When the kisses they shared had been awkward, reticent, quick and over before they could think about it.

Now, though, they were confident in baring their bodies and souls to each other. As wrong, twisted, and sick as others might call it, they were a couple.

The two eventually made their way to the bedroom--their bedroom, which they had started sharing over the summer as their timid relationship blossomed into warm, open love. They both knew what they wanted; Rob moved onto the bed on his hands and knees, and Mark moved in behind his father. Rob, who had pushed his desires down into the depths of his heart and left them ignored for longer than his son had been alive, let the younger boar take the lead. And Mark, whose childish want for the warmth and safety of his father had morphed with his adolescence into sexual need for the strong, soft, sexy man Rob was, moved down to indulge himself in the scent and taste of the older boar's body. He took the sweaty sack hanging like a ripe fruit between his father's thighs into his mouth, rolling the orbs on his tongue. Pressing kisses and licks to the pungent flesh, thanking them for giving him life, while his nose pressed against the dank expanse of Rob's taint and the oily pucker above. He breathed in, held the spicy musk of his father in his lungs, and then moaned out a humid breath over Rob's crotch before attacking the older boar's hole with the same love and care he'd given his incestuous lover's balls.

Rob let out soft, deep sighs and moans of his own as he felt his son's tongue swirl around his ring and press to the center of his hole. He could feel his pucker clench and wink, flirting with the moist muscle that was caressing it so tenderly, and then open to welcome the younger boar into a passionate kiss of its own. Rob's hands fisted in the sheets as his son ate him out, lapping at his inner walls and searching out the knot of nerves that always turned the older boar into a panting, needy mess. In and out and all around, swirling within him and making the erection bobbing against his gut jump and spurt with every touch against his spot.

Then, like a practiced dance, Mark pulled away while Rob rolled onto his back and hooked his legs around his son's waist. Their gazes locked again as Rob's hole kissed the pre-smeared tip of Mark's cock. There were no words that hadn't already been said, and so they said nothing; Mark kissed his father as he slid, slow and insistently, into the older boar's depths. Rob's breath hitched and his hands clutched at the younger boar's shoulders when Mark hilted inside and then began to rock into his father without pausing.

Their sex--their lovemaking--was rough and urgent, sweaty and raunchy as they grunted and groaned and crashed their hips together with desperate need. Mark pressed his face into the scruffy fur at the base of his father's neck, and followed the trail of darker, wiry hair down to the older boar's chest. His tail thrashed behind him and his cock throbbed in the vice-grip of Rob's hole as he breathed in the older boar's masculine scent. He suckled the tangy, salty sweat out of his father's chest fur and lapped it off the dark-olive buds of Rob's nipples. In return, the older boar crooned and clamped down on the thick cock breeding his guts while stroking up and down his son's sides--up into Mark's own sweat-and-musk-soaked pits and then down to the younger boar's pumping hips.

"Fuck... dad, I can't-" Mark was cut off as Rob tugged him down into another kiss by the back of his neck.

"Do it, boy. Cum in your big ol' musk-slut daddy. I wanna feel it deep in me, Mark..." The low rumbling of his father's husky voice. The expression on the older boar's face, twisted with raw, blissful pleasure. The tight passage milking his cock as he shoved it in deep again and again and again. It was too much for Mark, and the younger boar roared out his orgasm as he slammed himself home inside Rob.

"Dad!"

"Oh fuckin' shit, Mark!" Rob clutched onto his son with his arms and legs, pulling the boy close against him. Their sweaty forms ground together as Mark emptied his balls into his father's bowels. Between them, Rob's own cock jumped and throbbed and spurted his cum onto Mark's gut; the fruit of Rob's loins bathed in the seed of his creation.

The two finally collapsed onto the bed together, Mark lying atop the older boar while Rob stroked and kissed his son's sweat-slicked, flushed face. Meanwhile, with the fires of his lust snuffed for now--already the embers were being stoked by the sight and smell of the sweaty, post-orgasmic, beautiful man before him--Mark's hands moved to explore his father's body with an almost reverential tenderness. Over the work-firmed musculature of his chest, shoulders, and biceps. Down to pet the soft, cushy, but still-firm rise of his father's own belly. He could remember being held like this many times as a child, his father's strong arms and comforting scent a rock in the maelstrom of his life. And now that the context of their relationship had changed, ever since that one Friday evening, his heart never failed to flutter with every touch he gave his father.

"Fuck... oh, fuck, boy..." Mark's mind was drawn back to the present by the soft, panting words from Rob. Their eyes met, their gazes held, and then Rob grinned. "Damn, Mark, you're a fuckin' stud. You fuck Jimmy that good?"

Jimmy. His roommate of one year--going on two now--and friend of even longer. The built, athletic wolfdog who'd been his fuckbuddy since the two boys had first learned what fucking even was. Mark's face flushed hotter, and he felt his cock pulse at the thought of Jimmy howling and moaning while he worked under the canine's tail, but he shook his head. "Nah, dad. Fucking Jimmy's just training for when I come home. To you."

"Mark..." The older boar could feel his own heart flutter and pound in his chest, and for a moment he felt so much younger than his 46 years of age. Then he let out a sigh of bone-deep weariness. "I told you over summer, boy, we can't do this forever. You got all yer life ahead of ya, and-"

"And I told you, I don't care." Mark crawled up his father's body, getting face-to-face with the older boar. "Dad, I love you. When mom left, I only loved you more. And now that we've started doing this,"--he gestured to their entwined bodies, Rob's cooling seed smearing between them--"I, well. I love you." His words were unfocused and rambling as he tried to put the feelings that had been brewing within him into them, but his youthful eagerness easily shone through. His crush on Rob, sparked by his adolescence and fanned into a desire for the older boar not only as a father, but as a man. A man he adored and loved--was in love with--above all others.

In the face of his son's passion, Rob could only sigh and pull the younger boar--the young man who'd reawakened desires Rob had thought long dead and buried--into a gentle kiss. "How about this, then. When you're at college, you live your life. You go fuckin' around with Jimmy or whoever else you want, and be what'cha wanna be. And when you're here, when you come home, we can be whatever you want us to be. Father and son, or... boyfriends." Boyfriends. The word sent a tingle up Rob's spine, and again his old heart fluttered.

"Maybe... more?" Mark's voice was shy, but not shameful; almost a year into what they had going on, the younger boar knew very well that he didn't have to hide any of his desires from the man he loved.

Rob let out a soft chuckle, and gave his son's lips one more peck--quick, but no less passionate. "We can head out tomorrow and get rings, if ya want." It was half-meant as a joke, but as the two men locked gazes they realized that it was something they both wanted.

"Love you, dad."

"Love you too, son." The two boars fell into a comfortable silence with each other, Mark's head lying on Rob's shoulder as the older boar stroked up and down his son's back. Rob took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "...So. Wanna grab a shower?"

"Hell no. I want you huffin' my manstink every day we have together. And I don't want you even thinking of showering until I'm back on the bus Sunday night." Mark raised his head to give his father a wide, toothy grin, and was met with a guffaw as the older boar ruffled his son's mane.

"That's my boy."