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It had all started on Shoto’s first internship. His father had come into the room wearing his hero suit to tell him that they needed to go to Hosu city. And Shoto had....

...Shoto had noticed how tight Enji’s hero suit looked, and how the material clung to the large bulge of his crotch. What would it feel like to rub the heel of his hand over it?

But that was messed up. He shouldn’t be having such vulgar thoughts about his own father. What was wrong with him? But even though he knew it was wrong, the idea of touching Enji somehow seemed right , like it was what his body wanted; needed , even.

The evening after Shoto had been discharged from hospital after the incident in Hosu, he spent a long time relaxing in a warm bath. But he could not stop fantasizing about Enji getting in the bath with him, completely naked, and letting Shoto wash him and touch his muscles. He would sit on Enji’s lap and let him wash his hair. And he wondered how big… it would be.

In the days that followed he kept finding himself wondering what his conception had been like. What position had Enji been in? Had he enjoyed it? How long had it lasted? And what had… what had Enji looked like when he had climaxed?

Then in the summer there came a point when Shoto knew that he could no longer have these fantasies so long as he did nothing about them. It was funny how the smallest of things could trigger a reaction of such intensity in him. All that happened was that Enji passed him in the hallway of their house while wearing a short-sleeved tshirt and Shoto stopped dead because…

Because Enji had a mole on his left arm, just below the sleeve of his tshirt.

It was about half a centimetre long and reddish-brown in colour.

How long had it been there for?

Shoto knew what he had to do. He raced back to his bedroom, took out his phone, and typed ‘Endeavor’ into the search engine. The search produced an abundance of results, but none of them were quite what he was looking for. He then typed in ‘Endeavor shirtless,’ and was in luck: it turned out Enji had done quite a few shirtless photoshoots throughout his career as a hero.

When he had found a picture that he particularly liked, he zoomed in on Enji’s left arm and saw that the mole was indeed there. Unable to help himself, Shoto let out a moan as he imagined touching it, moving it with his thumb, feeling the texture of it. If he behaved extra well and made Enji proud, would he let him touch it? He slipped his hand down his trousers and stroked his erection.

He returned to his search and looked at the other images, trying to see if Enji had any other moles on his skin. The second picture he zoomed in on revealed that he had one on his stomach just below his chest, close to his ribs. Shoto couldn’t take it anymore; he grabbed his dick and started pumping it, imagining it was Enji’s hand on it instead of his own. For a moment he dropped his phone onto the bed and and let his other hand stroke the stubble of his shaved pubic hair, pretending he was stroking Enji’s jaw.

Picking up his phone again, he found a photo of Enji flexing his muscles, but this time it was taken from behind. Shoto counted three moles on Enji’s back, the biggest being on his left shoulder blade. He imagine licking it, biting it, sucking it until it bruised. Did Enji ever touch his moles? Did he ever think about them? Had his mother ever pointed them out when she had seen him naked?

Now he was gasping as he pleasured himself, whining, “Father… Father… Father…” as he imagined getting close to him, knowing him in the same way his mother had done. Had his mother moaned Enji’s name during coitus?

And then… and then he found a picture of Enji in a similar pose, only this time he wasn’t wearing trousers. Shoto’s breath caught in his throat. Enji’s ass was firm and ripe, and Shoto imagined using it as a stress ball. But wait, was that…? Under his right ass cheek, just peeking out at him, was that…

A mole?

Shoto zoomed in as much as he could, and found that it was. Now his mind was filled with fantasies of thrusting his dick in the fold between Enji’s ass and his thigh, fucking the mole until he came. As he did so he felt his climax building up, and he imagined Enji telling him that he could play with his moles if he were a good boy, but the one under his ass was their secret and he could only touch it if he were extra, extra good.

And before he knew it he was coming, crying out, “Father!” as his sperm covered his clothes.

“Shoto? Shoto, what is it?” Enji’s voice.

Oh no . Had Shoto remembered to lock the door -

The door opened and then Enji was staring at him, staring at his dick and the picture on his phone. “Shoto, what is the meaning of this?”

Despite having just came, now that he was facing Enji in person, Shoto felt like he needed more. He knew he should be ashamed that his father had just walked in on him jerking off, but his body was telling him that this was right .

His mouth was dry as he got up from the bed and approached Enji, the few steps it took to reach him feeling akin to running a marathon. Once he was close enough, he reached up and placed his right hand on Enji’s upper arm, and began to move his thumb over the mole. It took a lot of effort for him to stifle the moan that almost escaped his throat upon touching it.

“What is this, Shoto?” Enji frowned. “Have you finally given up on your rebellious phase?”

“How many?” Shoto said.


“How many do you have?”

“How many what? Shoto, what’s come over you?”

“How many of these?” Shoto tapped the mole with his thumb. “And where are they? I want to see them.”

“Are you… are you trying to bond with me?”

Shoto considered this for a moment. For so many years he had hated his father, and even now those feelings had not changed. The only difference was that he now had sexual feelings for him, and he concluded that the only way to get close to him would be to pretend that he had forgiven him. So he answered, “Yes.”