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The air up at Brasstown Bald was crisp — still and quiet, all dark silhouettes and wide sky. The parking lot was empty at this hour, save for Peter’s truck parked at the edge, farthest from the trail that led to the observatory at the top. The start of the Appalachian mountains surrounded them in every direction, but they weren’t looking at the view.
They were in the back of the truck – Chase was lying back against Peter’s chest, one of his legs stretched out and the other bent over Peter’s lap. An old mattress topper beneath them and two worn blankets crumpled around their sides. Leftovers from last time — the first time — when Peter had taken his virginity on this very mattress, at this very location.
Chase took a slow drag from the blunt, lips parted, then tipped his head to the side and passed it to Peter without looking.
Peter took it. “You doing okay?”
Chase’s voice came out soft. “I feel good.”
Peter let the smoke trail from his nose.
Chase’s eyes fluttered. “It’s like… my skin’s buzzing.”
“Good buzzing?”
“Yeah. Like… floaty.” He smiled a little. “Like I could fall through you.”
Peter pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Well, if you do, I’ll catch ya.”
Chase hummed.
Peter reached for one last toke, then twisted to flick the burnt end into the gravel beside the truck.
When he turned back—he stilled.
Chase’s hand was down his shorts.
Fingers moving. Slow. Tentative. Stroking himself through the warm wet slick pooling between his legs.
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Why are you touching my property?”
Chase flinched like he’d been caught red-handed. His hand started to pull back, face flushing.
“I’m—sorry,” he mumbled. “I couldn't help it—”
Peter caught his wrist before it could escape. Held it right there, tucked into the waistband of those shorts.
“I didn’t say stop.”
Chase blinked.
Peter grinned. His voice was soft, but firm. “Lean back. Take your shorts off. Keep going. I wanna watch.”
Chase’s breath caught — visibly, audibly. His lashes fluttered as he looked up at Peter’s face, checking.
Peter just looked back. Waiting.
Chase’s hand shook a little as he pushed his shorts down and off his legs. Then he slid his fingers back across the slick mess between his legs, his finger rotating around his clit.
It was already pink and swollen and flushed — from the high, from the closeness, from being caught.
Peter watched the way his hand moved, slow but desperate. The way he whimpered, hips twitching up into his own touch.
“I had a dream like this,” Chase whispered. “A few nights ago.”
Peter shifted closer, his nose dipping closer to Chase’s sex. “Yeah?”
Chase nodded, breath hitching. “I was… I was touching myself. In bed. You walked in and caught me.”
Peter tilted his head. “What did I do?”
Chase bit his lip. “I tried to stop. But you wouldn’t let me.”
Peter’s eyes darkened.
“You told me to keep going,” Chase said, voice softer now. “You sat on the edge of the bed and watched. Said you wanted to see what I did when I thought no one was looking.”
Peter made a quiet, approving sound.
“I couldn’t cum though,” Chase admitted. “Not with just my fingers. Not while you watched me like that.”
Peter leaned down to breathe him in.
His nose brushed the curve of Chase’s thigh as he inhaled deeply between his legs.
Chase whimpered.
“You’re soaked,” Peter said, voice dark with approval. “All that from a dream?”
Chase nodded quickly.
Peter shifted onto his side beside him, one arm curled behind his head, the other dropping to his own belt. He unzipped slowly. Freed himself.
Started stroking lazily.
“Keep going,” he said. “And tell me the rest.”
Peter’s strokes were slow. Leisurely. Like he had all the time in the world.
Chase, on the other hand, looked wrecked already. His legs were spread, hips twitching, fingers slick and trembling where they pressed against his cunt. His breath was coming faster now — more shallow, like the buzz was catching up with him. The weed had dialed all of his senses to eleven.
Peter watched every movement. Watched how hungry he was.
“Baby boy, I asked you to tell me another,” he said.
Chase blinked, dazed. “Wh-what?”
Peter’s voice was low. “Another dream.”
Chase hesitated — just long enough to blush. Then he licked his lips.
“You blindfolding me,” he admitted.
Peter’s hand slowed.
“Not like… scary. Just not knowing when you’ll touch me. Or where. Not being able to guess.”
His breath hitched again. “Just… waiting for it. It always feels good when you touch me.”
Peter groaned under his breath. “Jesus.”
Then he sat up. “Get up.”
Chase blinked. “What—?”
Peter didn’t explain. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
He stood — still hard, cock out and glistening — and jumped down from the truck bed. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he started walking, completely unbothered by how exposed he was.
Chase scrambled upright, thighs sticky, legs unsteady. He stumbled as he jumped down from the bed, heart pounding, then followed.
Peter was already at the front of the truck.
He didn’t look back when Chase caught up — just took him by the hips, turned him to face the hood, and placed his hands flat on the warm metal.
“Don’t move them,” Peter said.
Then he crouched.
Chase barely had time to brace himself before he felt Peter’s mouth on him.
A slow, deliberate lick between his folds.
Chase moaned — legs already trembling.
Peter licked again. Then again. Every stroke was slow, precise, devastating.
Chase gripped the hood harder. “Fuck—!”
His knees buckled.
Peter held him up easily, arms tight around his thighs.
The second time Chase’s legs gave out, Peter let him drop further into his arms — just enough to lift him.
Chase was hauled up onto the hood, hips high, chest down, feet no longer touching the ground.
Bent over.
Completely open.
Dripping.
Peter stepped in close, lined himself up.
And pushed inside.
“Fuck!” Chase screamed.
Peter stayed still for a moment.
Just buried deep inside him, letting Chase feel it — the stretch, the weight, the pressure. Letting him flutter and pulse around him, already slick, already overwhelmed.
Then he moved.
A slow, delicious rhythm — all drag and grind, the kind that made Chase whimper into the metal of the hood and clutch at it like an anchor. His feet dangled just above the gravel. Every thrust rocked him slightly forward, then back again.
He was completely at Peter’s mercy.
And Peter loved it.
He bent low, chest grazing Chase’s back, and whispered— “What else?”
Another thrust. “Wha–?” Chase asked.
Another thrust, this time harder. “What else has your slutty little mind imagined me doing to you?”
Chase’s breath hitched hard.
He swallowed. “About… being your toy.”
Peter paused — just for a second.
Chase kept going. “Like—just always ready. Always wet and open and waiting for you.”
His voice trembled. “Like you could use me whenever you wanted. Like a… like a cock sleeve. A fleshlight.”
Peter made a rough sound — like a growl dragged through his teeth — and fucked into him a little harder.
Not fast. Not yet. But with more intent.
“You want to be nothing but mine,” he growled.
Chase whimpered. “I already am.”
“Damn right you are,” Peter answered as a glow appeared on the only road in and out of the parking lot.
Headlights.
Both of them stilled instantly.
A car coasted into the lot, moving slow, tires crunching over gravel. It parked at the opposite end — far enough that the newcomers wouldn’t see anything clearly. Especially not with the truck bed facing them, blocking the view of what was happening up front.
But Chase could see them. Peter too.
They were angled right at the car. Uncle Peter's nephew bent over the hood. Split open and dripping. His Uncle still buried deep inside him.
Chase's heart thundered.
Peter didn’t move.
Until he did.
A slow thrust. Deep. Measured.
Chase gasped.
“W-what are you doing?” he hissed. “We’re going to get caught—”
Peter’s voice was a low growl. “You said you wanted to be my toy.”
Chase opened his mouth to say something else—
Peter slammed into him. Just once. Hard. “So shut up like a good cocksleeve and take it.”
Chase groaned — loud, involuntary.
Peter’s hand clamped over his mouth immediately.
“Fleshlights don’t talk,” he whispered into his ear. “You make another sound, and our new friends over there are gonna hear.”
Chase whimpered under his palm, eyes wide, heart pounding.
Peter fucked him again — not rough, not fast. Just enough to make the danger feel real.
The strangers got out of their car. Doors thudded shut. Voices carried faintly across the lot.
Chase stayed frozen.
Peter kept moving, pulling more groans from Chase.
“You better be quiet,” he whispered, “unless you want them to watch me wreck my toy.”
The footsteps drifted away.
Chase could hear them — crunching over gravel, fading as they moved toward the trail that led to the observatory path above. A laugh. A flashlight beam bouncing past.
Peter stayed close.
His hand was still over Chase’s mouth. His hips moved in slow, calculated thrusts. Deep enough to make Chase twitch. Slow enough to feel every inch.
Only once the last voice faded did Peter speak again.
Low. Right at his ear. “Now,” he said. “Tell me the rest.”
Chase swallowed thickly under Peter’s hand.
Peter pulled his hand away — just enough for him to speak.
“I—” Chase’s voice was raw. “I think about waking up with you already inside me.”
Peter’s hips jerked.
Chase shuddered. “Like… I’m still half-asleep. And you’re already fucking me. Not saying anything. Just… using me. Telling me to go back to sleep. You just need to breed me again or you just couldn’t help yourself.”
Peter groaned like it physically hit him.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re just full of dirty little fantasies, aren’t you?”
Chase nodded, moaning softly. “It’s all I think about.”
Peter thrust deeper. Possessive. Measured.
“That’s what you want?” he growled.
“Yes,” Chase gasped.
“Nothing but a warm, wet hole to wake up to.”
Chase whimpered.
“To be used.”
Peter bent lower — pressing him harder into the hood — and kept fucking him like he was exactly that.
“Fucked.”
Peter’s rhythm deepened — not frantic, but harder now, more urgent.
“Over and over again.”
Each thrust rocked Chase forward slightly on the hood, his hips lifting to meet it like instinct.
“Until you are raw and truly bred.”
“Yes!” Chase hiccuped a sob.
Peter’s voice was rough and close at his ear again. “Another.”
Chase gasped. Peter grabbed a fistful of his hair, grounding him, keeping him still.
“Now,” Peter growled. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
Chase whimpered, already wrecked. “I want you to fuck me someplace public.”
Peter’s hips slowed just enough to process that.
“I’m fucking you right now someplace public,” he muttered.
“No,” Chase panted. “I mean like— where there's lots of people. A balcony. A hotel pool. Anywhere someone could look out and see you— see you using me.”
Peter groaned, filthy and low.
“You want them to watch?” he growled. “Want people to see how I use my toy?”
Chase sobbed. “Yes—please—”
Peter started to lose it.
“You want them to see how I fuck what’s mine? See me breed my nephew?”
Chase moaned, eyes wide, face flushed.
“That’s what you are,” Peter growled. “My toy. My cock sleeve. My breeding sow. Wet and ready and waiting for it.”
He snapped his hips forward — once, twice — brutal and deep.
“You want them to watch me put a baby in you, is that it?”
Chase whimpered. “Yes—want them to see you fill me up—want them to know I’m yours—see your claim on me—in me—”
Peter snarled and fucked into him harder, voice dropping to a dangerous, possessive growl.
“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill you up with my kids and leave you dripping.”
“Please—!”
“And you’re gonna take it,” Peter hissed. “Aren’t you? And you’re gonna love it.”
Chase cried out, "Yes!" His body clenching, cunt fluttering, orgasm ripping through him like a lightning strike. His hands clenched on the hood. His feet kicked. His whole body trembled.
Peter came seconds later.
He buried himself deep, cock twitching, and started to grind through it — rutting in tight, desperate circles, like he couldn’t stop even if he tried.
Hot spurts filled Chase with every roll of Peter’s hips. It was filthy. Obscene. Endless.
Peter’s breath was ragged now, voice low and harsh. “Look at you,” he growled. “All soft and open and stuffed full of my cum.”
Another slow grind. Another twitch of his cock. “Just like you’re meant to be.”