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One Day At A Time

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He sat, tapping the steering wheel, watching the minutes tick by, as time slipped past, oozing slowly like molasses falling off the broken edges of the glass jar, and his mind raced.

He was furious. Credence had said the party would be over by ten.

So he'd been there at nine thirty.

Now it was a quarter of twelve.

How much longer would his son insist on pushing his curfew?

He’d rambled on and on about the birthday party like it was the social event of the year, couldn’t afford to be missed, and now, there he was, about to ruin it by playing the overprotective parent.

Fuck it.

He didn’t care.

Percy put the car in park, and shut off the engine, before stalking up to the front of the club, ignoring the rather pointed stare he got from the bouncer, without having to need to flash his credentials, namely his badge. No need to bark how his kid was in there, so he just swept inside. The music was so loud it was pounding a headache right between his temples, and he wondered how anyone could possibly hold a conversation much less celebrate an event in such a place. He spotted Credence almost at once, but it was where he was that concerned Percy. Pinned against a wall, with a very intense dance partner, who happened to be a man, or more accurately a boy, one who looked more than old enough to drink.

Percy got the sense that his son was uncomfortable, but perhaps unable to voice his thoughts or was uncertain if he would be heard.

Besides being long outside curfew, Credence had likely been drinking also, and that was just not okay with Percy. If he wasn’t at home, he couldn’t be monitored properly.

Percy wasn’t stupid, he knew high schoolers drank before they should, hell, he’d had his first beer at fourteen, at a superbowl party, but he much preferred his son be somewhere safe, in case he reacted poorly.

“Dad?”

He got close enough to put a hand to the guy’s shoulder, and yanked him away from where he was crowding his son, locking eyes with Credence only to find his son on the verge of tears.

“It’s almost midnight. I’m parked in a fire lane.”

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Let’s talk in the car.”

Shouting was not helping his headache, and he pulled Credence close, almost elbowing his way out of the crowd, once outside breathing fresh, not smoky air, he inhaled deeply, and let go of his son to sprint to the car to start it up.

He’d parked in a fire lane, on purpose, and been there for two hours almost by now, so it was hardly the point, but he knew it would make his son think twice. Plus as a cop off duty and retired, he knew it likely wouldn’t be an issue, but he didn’t really want to push his luck or have to use his position.

He’d climbed inside and turned the key, when he realized Credence wasn’t following him. He got back out and found his son clinging to the side of the car, eyes closed tight, face red and forehead clammy to the touch.

“What’s wrong?”

“That guy… I think he put something in my drink when I went to the bathroom, and came back.”

Oh... fuck.

Shit.

“Credence, tell me how you’re feeling, what are you seeing?”

His son was very pale now, and when he managed to force his eyes open, his pupils were blown wide, brown swallowed by black.

“I just feel dizzy, and my body feels light, like I might float away…”

He blinked, trying to run through the list of possible drugs that could induce such a reaction, mixed with whatever he’d been drinking, but Percy was at a loss. He pulled Credence into his arms and opened the passenger side door, carefully helping his son into his seat and buckling him in securely, before running a hand over his forehead again, feeling how his pulse was racing.

“It’s gonna be okay. You won’t fly anywhere, until we get you home. Then you can dream about it all you want.”

Impulsively, Percy pressed a kiss to Credence’s temple, and then hurried around to the drivers side, mind flipping through the best remedies for an accidental drug dosage.

Credence wasn’t silent throughout the car ride, unfortunately, rambling on about the party and how awful it had been until the guy came over and asked him to dance, how he’d felt like his date abandoned him, and he was very, very sorry for staying so long but he’d forgotten his watch and his phone had died.

“Shh-hh, it’s okay. I’m not mad.”

Percy lied smoothly enough. He was rather furious, and wishing he’d punched someone, but his anger was not directed at his son. Rather, the bottomfeeder who’d taken Credence for an easy target, due to his kind and somewhat naive nature.

The second they got home, as Percy pulled into the garage, Credence let out a low moan, and he nearly broke the side view mirror off as he glanced over and swerved as a result. Knowing his son jerked off and seeing it was two very different things. Though Credence was just palming himself over his jeans it was still a rather shocking sight.

“Um okay. We’re home.”

He got out, once safely parked and fully stopped, and then moved to help Credence out of his seat, thankfully he had stopped touching his alarming bulge, and obediently clung to Percy as he stepped back from the car, allowing him to carry his son into the house, which was quiet at that hour, both dogs asleep and the rest of the neighborhood fast asleep on a weekday evening. Credence was only with him during that time, weekends he spent with his mother, and Percy was ‘allowed’ to have a bit of his own life.

“Dad, please, don’t leave me alone, I feel like I’m going to-”

“Then you need to be prepared, let’s get you changed into your pajamas, and then you can stay in the bathroom, until you don’t feel nauseous.”

“No, I’m not sick, I’m so hard it hurts.”

Percy almost dropped him as he felt Credence slowly grinding against his waist, legs wrapped tight, locked at the ankle, and his son’s cold nose was nuzzled against his neck, his hair tickling over his skin, long enough now to lick against his ears. God, when was the last time the kid had gotten a haircut?

“Um, well, you need to be alone to take care of that.”

“Please, please help me.”

“Credence, you don’t know what you’re saying, you need to take a cold shower and lay down.”

That was basically what he needed to do too at that point, he suspected, but no matter how fast he walked, he was still being hampered by carrying his fifteen year old son who was starting to get taller than him, little by little, year by year.

The second he crossed the threshold to his son’s room he made to peel his slender body away from Percy’s own, but Credence just moved a little bit, nudging his hips again, rubbing his jeans covered cock into his side, before shuddering out a gasp, and then his son was pressing his lips over his cheek.

“Dad-dy… I’m sorry… I made a mess.”



For almost the last five years, Percy had been questioning himself, and his entire life, as he’d watched Credence grow up, and started to look less and less like him or his mother, he became convinced somehow that the boy had been switched out at birth, exchanged for a blond haired and blue eyed child. That the hospital had dropped into his life a dark haired and eyed and pale skinned creature from another world. Maybe a forest glen, a passing stork carrying a fae child had tripped, and then they’d ended up with Credence instead.

Percy felt nothing but guilt every time he caught himself staring or smiling too long at his son, and his wife had noticed, and yet remained silent on why she’d wanted the divorce in the first place. She cited ‘ irreconcilable differences ’ which was always what people said when they couldn’t put words to the truth, because it was too painful or too frightening.

He’d always been overprotective and conscious to a fault of how fragile his son was, how ruined he would be, they both would, if he ever suspected or found out. So he’d been the best dad he could be, the father of the year award should have been his, had it been a real thing life granted to anyone.

Every hug, every kiss on the cheek, he’d burned inside, and stowed it away, wrapped it up and locked it down, ignored it to the best of his ability. Yes he was a piece of shit, but dammit, he was a piece of shit who adored his son and wanted the best for him.

That was what made it so difficult to let go, to watch Credence go off and do things, begin to grow up and try to be independent, when all Percy wanted was to hoard his beauty away, to keep him for himself, and to try and break off a piece of that innate goodness to try and soothe his blackened soul.

He’d never walked in on Credence masturbating or touching himself in any way, but he knew that the boy had to do it at some time. He couldn’t be uninterested in sex altogether, could he? Boys Credence’s age usually had already kissed their first girl, or guy, as it might be, by then. The club had been an ideal setting, away from parents, with free alcohol accessible to minors, as long as they didn’t get in major trouble and the host was of age, who cared?

Percy did.

Whatever that asshole had given his son, was hitting him hard, and it was jabbing mercilessly at his own self control, thanks to Credence writhing against him, he’d gotten aroused beyond reason, and was on the verge of tossing his boy onto his bed, and running straight to the bathroom to take care of it, damned the consequences.

But there was more to it, a better way to do something about it. Right in front of him. He could just blame it on the drug, and pretend he was only trying to help, to diffuse the situation, to quench the fire inside his boy.

The shiver that ran down his spine at being called ‘Daddy ’ by accident or not, by his lovely son, was impossible to ignore. There was nothing that he wanted more, than to know his immoral wants and shameful desires were returned.

So he waited, he remained quiet, and let Credence’s fear build, so that he could counteract with a solution that would seem like the best thing for him, while it was really for him .

“Credence, it’s all right. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then you can get some rest, hmm?”

His son’s long lashes were wet with tears, and he shook his head, trying to continue clinging to him, his arms wrapped tight around Percy’s neck,

“It still hurts. It feels really hot.”

Credence was still nosing against his neck, as if begging for a kiss, or just a hug, and Percy’s control weakened, so he moved to sit down on the bed, his knees ready to give out,

“Baby, what do you want me to do?”

The answer was immediate, and set his heart racing unnaturally fast.

“Touch me, please.”

The reasoning as to why he shouldn’t seemed to have flown out the window, Credence was off his ass now, high as a fucking kite on something and damn it all if Percy was going to make his sweet son suffer from his own sheer self preservation.

He pulled back just enough to carefully extract himself from his son’s arms, and then started undoing his shirt, clumsy hands following his as Credence followed, and tried to help.

God, did he think Percy was someone else entirely?

“Daddy, will you do me?”

Undress him, he suspected his son meant, but his own cock gave an interested twitch at the idea. Could he really live with himself if he committed such an atrocity?

“Sure baby, let me help you.”

Credence must have thought his clothing was strangling him, as he drew in a deep breath the second his shirt was off, and Percy was fumbling with his jeans zipper.

His boxers were damp over the front seam from his first little climax, and Percy’s heart skipped a beat as his fingers accidentally grazed the hot length, still hard, under the fabric.

“Daddy! Put your mouth on me?”

Credence was trembling, and he’d barely even been touched. It took a few painfully long seconds to get rid of his son’s pants and his own, kicking his shoes away, he’d find them again later, and then finally, finally he was climbing onto the bed properly, bracketing the boy’s slim body beneath his, trying not to have a goddamn heart attack from so much exposed skin, being close enough to touch. The first thing he did was kiss Credence, if only to see how he reacted. The effect was instantaneous, and slender hips and thighs braced into his waist, as he bucked up, shakily trying to thrust his still covered cock into anything for a bit of friction.

“Shh-hh, relax baby. I’ve got you.”

“Daddy… please, touch me .”

He was whining now, pleading for Percy, and resisting was no longer an option, so he reached between their bodies, trying to remain impartial, and pressed the heel of his palm against Credence’s straining cock.

As he watched, his son’s lips parted and his back arched as he thrust into it, baring his throat, and making Percy want nothing more than to leave a mark there, ignoring the fact that he could feel warmth against his skin, where he was touching Credence.

A soft groan, and his son was shivering under him, coming again, and then leaning up to kiss him, a frantic press of his mouth to Percy’s, as if dying of thirst but for kisses instead.

“Feel any better?”

He managed to gasp out, and Credence hummed, but shook his head,

“Still hurts.”

Somehow, even after two orgasms, his son’s cock was still hard. Whatever they’d given him must have induced hallucinations as well as made him extremely aroused beyond rational reasoning.

He wondered if he should try and get out while he could, and let Credence just take care of himself, for the rest of the night.

But when he tried to retreat, to pull away, even just dropping his hand to lean on the bed, Credence whimpered and shifted closer, wrapping his legs around his lower back, and thrusting weakly against him, mindless, only after more of his own pleasure, it had to be.

“Daddy don’t you want me? Fuck me, please?”

Percy let his head fall down, pressing his face into the soft smooth skin of his boy’s chest,

“Baby, no, it’s not that. This is wrong, this shouldn’t be happening…”

God, he was drowning in his need, aching for it, even if Credence only grazed a hand over him, or said he felt as if he could make him come, he’d spill himself before he knew how to stop it.

“Kiss me, mark me, hurt me, just make it stop.”

He put his mouth to his son’s shoulder, kissed the skin, licked over it, and then nibbled as gently as he dared and Credence’s sharp gasp was enough to embolden him to try more, further down, above the boy’s stomach, and then lower, at his hip bone. The next thing he knew, he was wrapping a hand around his son’s bared cock, still slick with precome and his previous two climaxes worth, and then slowly putting his lips to the heated skin.

“Oh-h-h-h, Daddy, oh fuck, please, more.”

He couldn’t help smiling, just a little, despite how horribly fucked up it all was,

“Where did you learn that language? Certainly not from me.”

Credence was biting his lip, shifting his hips, trying to force his cock to move against Percy’s hand,

“Mommy’s got a new boyfriend. Talks like a sailor, as you would say.”

“Oh.”

That’s all there was to it, really.

Taking advantage, maybe. But he sure as fuck wouldn’t be throwing that woman any more chances, any more bones.

He had exactly what he wanted right in front of him, under him, crying for more almost.

Percy tugged his son’s boxers the rest of the way off and then proceeded to take his son’s cock into his mouth as deeply as he could, cherishing the way it made the boy squirm, clawing the sheets for a way to ground himself, desperate thrusts of Credence’s hips trying to force for more.

Percy put a strong hand to the boy’s thighs, holding them apart, and keeping him still as he licked at the underside of the cockhead and sucked as hard as he could. Credence’s next orgasm seemed to hit him like a freight train, punching the air from his lungs and leaving him shaky as he slowly came down from the high, as Percy let his softened cock slip out of his mouth, it was as if he was relieved, glad to no longer be forced to help, to have to touch his son.

He only had himself to deal with.

“Wait… don’t leave me. I want you to fuck me.”

Percy felt traitorous tears pricking at his own eyes, as he stared down at his son, who seemed to be still under the influence of the mysterious drug, rubbing his hands over his chest and down to palm himself, keeping his legs open, parted, as if just for him to slot himself back into.

“I can’t.”

“Aren’t you hard? Don’t you... want me?”

Credence wasn’t pouting, not really, but he looked as if Percy had denied him something tragic, or told him Santa wasn’t real, or that the money from the tooth fairy had all been from him. The fact was, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself between those creamy thighs and make the boy sob from hyperstimulation before fucking him as hard and fast as he could bear.

There would be no explaining that soreness away, or hiding the fact he’d taken his boy’s virginity, not when his son woke up with slick between his legs, and someone else’s come dripping out of his hole.

Percy clenched his jaw, and then shook his head.

“You need to get some rest. I need a drink myself.”

He left, though every step pained him, and locked himself into his bathroom, climbing into the shower in just his boxers, and turning the water as hot as he could bear it. It burned into his skin, seeped into his veins, and his hand held tight over his own cock as he sought after his release. It was a hard fought orgasm, because he kept trying to picture a pretty lady, a woman who’d caught his eye at the coffee shop last week, all before he gave in, and dared to imagine how Credence would look on his knees before him, drinking him down.

He shot off into his cupped palm, and cursed as loud as he dared, before rinsing off his hand and climbing out of the shower, drying off, rubbing his skin raw, and relishing the pain. Calling it a reminder of his self control. He’d helped, yes, he’d been less than perfect, but he hadn’t ruined everything, hadn’t defiled his boy beyond repair.

The bed was comfortable under him, but his body ached and still felt awake.

He stared at the ceiling for far too long, watching the lights of cars passing and the moon slowly sunk into the distance.

His eyes were stinging now, not from tears, but exhaustion, still, sleep eluded him.

A soft knocking echoed through the room, that could have been his head pounding or all in his imagination, at that point. But it was real, and the cracking of his bedroom door confirmed it, revealing the tall slender outline of Credence in the doorway.

“Hey kiddo. What’s up? How’s your head?”

“Hurts a little but I feel better.”

“That’s good.”

Percy laid flat again, leaning up on his arm to stare at his son was making his neck and shoulders hurt. He didn’t realize Credence hadn’t left until the bed dipped at his side, and his son was sitting beside him, looking very small.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Me either. Clearly.”

“Can I stay with you?”

There were a lot of reasons that was a bad idea, but Percy was too tired to argue, so he just nodded, and scooted over, allowing his son to clamber in beside him, sliding under the sheet and snuggling close before he could protest.

That wasn’t what he’d meant, at all.

Credence was so close, he could smell that his son had showered too, he didn’t have the scent of sex clinging to him, but rather strawberries and oranges. His cheek was pressed up against Percy’s arm, and he could dimly feel a kiss against his skin, before Credence put an arm over his chest, and he swore his eyes closed once and didn’t open again until there was sunshine streaming into the room.

Hours later, he woke up to the sensation of something on his aching cock, and he blinked, dazed, only to realize Credence was mouthing him over his boxers, and seemed to be lying on him, completely on purpose

“Stop.”

At least, that was what he thought he had said, but what actually came out was,

“Don’t stop.”

Credence glanced up at him, from beneath his now dry dark overgrown waves, and smiled slightly. His eyes were clear, brown again, and there was no way any drug was making him do that.

A hand was rubbing soothing circles over his thigh, before fingers curled into the waistband, and dragged the fabric down and away, letting his cock spring free, only to be caught by Credence’s other hand, palm gripping gently before he put his mouth to the side of it again, licking and sucking along the length of it.

“Wait, you shouldn’t… fuck.”

He put a hand to his face, and tried to think of something to say, but his hips were moving, little slow thrusts that only made his cock drip onto his stomach, and want to be inside his son’s mouth even more.

“I want to return the favor. You were so good to me last night, Daddy.”

Percy barely had a second to process what he’d just heard, before Credence was swallowing him down, deepthroating him with barely a hint of discomfort, and his hand was gripping those dark waves in a heartbeat.

“Oh fuck, oh god, oh that’s perfect, just like that…”

His eyes fell shut as he felt Credence’s tongue swiping under the head, rubbing with a quick concentration he’d have hardly been capable of the night before, blissed out as he was.

Apparently not that out of it, his mind corrected him.

He could remember Percy getting him off three times, or at least once, it seemed.

When his vision started to go white on the edges, he tugged, rather hard, trying to pull Credence away, to ensure he didn’t continue fucking his mouth when he came, and his son didn’t relent or back up, he merely hummed and pressed closer , until his nose was rubbing against his stomach, almost making Percy cry out from the tight pressure of his son’s throat around his cock.

As he trembled through the last of his aftershocks, he could feel Credence cuddling beside him, and making small thrusts of his own, a hot hard lump against his thigh, and gentle lips pressing into his shoulder, with a murmured ‘Daddy’ over his skin.

“Credence… why are you doing this?”

Percy could only croak out, and he heard rather than saw his son smile, and then experience his own rather hurried climax, right into his boxers, wetting his thigh a bit.

“Because I love you. And you saved me.”

Another kiss, right on his neck, and a slight nip of teeth, that was all it took before Percy lost his mind, and flipped them over, so he was looming atop his son, panting hard, though he should have been insanely relaxed from his orgasm.

“You know we can’t do this? We shouldn’t?”

Credence blinked languidly up at him, still obviously a bit sleepy,

“But we have. We did it last night.”

“I thought you were drugged…” he protested weakly, and Credence nodded at once.

“I was ! I just needed some comfort too. I was finally able to have what I wanted. You.”

Percy’s mind raced as his heartbeat quickened, and he was that close to giving in, to melting into an embrace and fervent kiss.

“I took advantage of you.”

“In the moment, I wanted you to do nothing else. So really, I used you .”

“Impossible.”

Percy stroked a hand over his son’s forehead, and kissed him there gently, before shifting down, and letting himself kiss Credence’s slightly reddened lips.

The kiss was long, deep and only made him hunger for more. How much more, he didn’t know, that he could do and live with.

Time would tell.



He had known it was a bad idea, turning his back on his drink for any number of minutes, but he’d trusted the guy when he said he’d keep an eye on it, and no worries, take as long as he needed in the bathroom. The second he’d taken a sip of his drink upon his return, he’d felt off, and the guy hadn’t been able to hide his smirk fast enough. Seeing his father approaching, stepping into the crowd which seemed to part around him, locking eyes with him across the room and through the smoky fog, had been the moment he’d known how truly fucked he was. While out with friends at a party in a gay club, being hit on by a shady though hot guy, all he really wanted was his father’s hand down his pants, and his mouth hot on his neck.

God he was so disgusting.

His father was glaring daggers at the guy, and then scooping him up into his strong arms, carrying him away from it all, back home, somewhere safe, a place he could gladly ride out the insane high about to crash down around his ears.

Though once outside he’d felt unsteady, and nearly fell on his face, but chose to grab hold of the car instead. Then his father had been behind him, and he’d bitten the inside of his cheek bloody to keep from moaning and pressing his ass back against his father’s crotch.

He had to be helped inside the car like he was some kind of wimp who’d never had ecstasy before. He had wondered why it was hitting him so hard, then he remembered he’d skipped lunch because it had been gross, and thought there would be food at the party.

There hadn’t been.

So now he was sweating, hot, and overstimulated by every little thing.

Talk about sensory overload.

He found himself shifting in his seat, cock hard and throbbing against the seam of his jeans. He glanced over to his father to find him watching the road intently, jaw tight, and he slipped a hand over his groin, just planning to rub a little, but he got a bit carried away, humping up into his palm, a moan slipping out his throat before he could swallow it back down.

His father didn’t seem to notice, or he ignored it, which Credence thought was almost worse. By the time he was home, he could barely tell, aching, dripping, desperate to come, to end it. There wasn’t anything that could help it better than his own hand on his cock, but the second his father picked him up, he couldn’t stop from grinding against him, humping his thigh and praying he wouldn’t be slapped or thrown to the ground.

Instead his father walked them to his bedroom and made to disentangle himself, as he should have, but Credence wouldn’t let him. He was in too deep now.

To his disbelief and shock, his father stayed, and kept staying through three orgasms, and only left when he repeated how he wanted his father to fuck him, please.

That was a line he couldn’t cross apparently, and Credence understood. He thought. He laid still for a long while, til the sweat had cooled on his skin, and he finally felt as if the room wouldn’t shake when he stood up. He staggered into his bathroom and got into a cold shower, standing under the water until he began to shiver, and then he flipped it to the hot side, and felt his cock hardening almost instantaneously, mind flooded with images of his father, behind a closed door, jerking himself off.

Would he hate him now? Would Credence never be allowed a platonic touch again? He didn’t know, but the thought made him cry, and the water washed away his tears and his semen when he finally jerked himself to a finish under lukewarm drops.

After laying still for hours, he dragged himself out of bed and padded over to his father’s room to find that he was awake too, and allowed him close, let him snuggle beside his strong form, and get a few blissful moments of rest. He decided to try again, to just give and not expect anything in return, as long as he was able, so he leaned down, and put his mouth to his father’s bare chest, kissing over his stomach, noting the greyed hairs there, scattered over the man’s skin, and then down, until he could smell the clean scent of his father’s musk, and felt the man’s cock hardening under his palm.

Unconsciously he was enjoying what Credence was doing, so he got to work, stroking and rubbing, wetting his lips to apply them to the head, only hidden from him by the fabric of his father’s boxers, until he could feel the veins pulsing, and he knew his father was close, still lost in his dreams.

But then fingers carded through his hair, and he thought his father was about to force him to stop, until suddenly he begged for exactly the opposite.

Credence took and took and took everything his father gave him, and swallowed hard, taking every drop of the man’s come, so that when he pulled away and his father’s spent cock fell from his lips, there was no doubt, he’d done his very best.

They laid there only a moment, and then his father was getting up, pulling him with him, prepared to toss him to the curb perhaps, but they were going the wrong way, towards the bathroom.

“Come on, I want to try something.”

Credence watched open mouthed as the man started up the shower, shucked off his boxers properly and gave him a second to do the same, before climbing in after him, murmuring low,

“Put your hands on the tile, face away from me.”

Credence’s heart skipped a beat, and he wondered if his father was going to hit him, whip him bloody where the evidence could be washed away, or force him to his knees, make him drink down something else from his cock, before he felt strong hands gripping the back of his thighs, and he realized his father was kneeling behind him, nuzzling his face against his ass, kissing right between the cheeks.

“So good for me.”

A finger rubbed him right over his hole, aided wetly by the gentle spray from the showerhead, and credence trembled as he felt another kiss, right beside the finger nudging in, and then a warm wetness, a press of tongue, and white sparks exploded in front of his eyes.

He pressed his forehead onto the cool tile in front of him, and moaned as his father began to fuck him with a finger and his tongue, making his cock ache, dripping onto the floor of the shower.

He was so hard it hurt, once again, and his hands were trapped on the wall, as his father kept his legs apart, and held quite still, with a hand bracing on each thigh.

“Please… touch me.”

“I am baby. You want to come?”

“Yes!”

Credence was actually sobbing now, overwhelmed with unfamiliar pleasurable sensations, as a second finger pushed inside, rubbing with purpose, making his cock twitch in front of him, and then it started to slowly spurt white ropes onto the dark blue tile, pulsing through each wave of his orgasm, without ever being touched.

His father’s fingers withdrew, and he felt another kiss pressed to the base of his spine, before the warm strong body was behind him again, bracketing him against the wall of the shower, and he shivered from so much skin to skin contact, heartbeat stuttering as he could feel the unmistakable hardness of his father’s cock against his ass.

“How was that baby?”

“Amazing… Daddy.”

“Would you like me to fuck you now?”

“Yes, please!”

Credence didn’t even have to think about it, he felt so good, so relaxed and yet desperate for more, his father chuckled, and kissed him again, over his bare shoulder, before reaching down to finger him with two, and then a third finger nudged into him, pumping slowly.

“Are you sure?”

He turned around, blinked through his tears, and found his father looking at him with such intense need, he could swear he got half hard again.

“Yes, Daddy.”

There was one hand on his hip, bracing him, and the other at his neck, a thumb rubbing over his jawline, forcing him to hold still for a quick kiss, before he felt the blunt press of his father’s cock against his hole, going in almost easily, thanks to the water and his copious fingering of himself over the last few weeks. He’d only been doing it to prep for when he could find some hot guy who looked vaguely like his father to take him, and make him forget that what he wanted was filthy and wrong.

None of that mattered now, he was finally being fucked by his father , painfully slow almost, as he ached to be fucked hard, and deep, without mercy. He tilted his hips back, and tried to grind closer, stealing a gasp from his father’s throat.

“God, baby, you’re so tight and hot. Feels incredible.”

“Thank you Daddy, but you don’t have to be so gentle.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you baby.”

“I know.”

He tried not to whine, as the hand on his hip tightened, a grip that would surely leave bruises, and his father pulled out almost all the way, to press back in, snapping forward, thrusting deep, at last, grazing over the spot that made his breathing catch and his cock ache.

He wanted to touch himself desperately, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but take it. His father’s hand left his neck and slid down his side, catching at his budded nipple and pinching slightly, enough to make him jump, and plead for more, so he could feel the vibration of when his father chuckled, before finally touching his cock.

It was a teasing stroke, as he avoided touching the head, or gripping firmly at all, and Credence found himself whining, truly, keening high and long when his father moved faster, the slow pulls of friction barely enough, but combined with the hand over his cock, bringing him gradually back to the precipice of orgasm.

“Gonna come… do you want me inside you?”

“Yes!”

It wasn’t even a question. He wanted to feel his father’s come drip out of him, slowly until he was begging for more, and he wondered just how long it would take, before he would need to crawl into his father’s lap, and ride him til he cried out.

“My beautiful boy. So good for me.”

He could feel his father kissing his shoulder, before biting down a bit, and wrapping his hand around his cock, tugging fast, as his thrusts grew erratic, and he felt his father’s cock pulsing inside of him, slow wet drags turned into warm presses, and eventually stopped altogether, as his father embraced him, holding him close, cock still buried deep.

“Thank you.”

His father kissed his neck, mouthing over the nape, and then pulled away and turned him around, pressing him into the wall for a quick kiss to his lips, before getting them both under the spray,

“It was my genuine pleasure, baby.”



end