Heavy is the Burden [Verse + oropherion; nsfw]

[oropherion]

[Trigger warning for nsfw and derogatory words]

Wesley Mason had always known bearing the title of father would be a heavy weight, but he had never imagined the weight of it to be this crushing. After all, the journey into fatherhood had gone exactly how it was supposed to go. Find a girl, fall in love, marry her, and then have children. Well mostly how it was supposed to. That was what his parents had imprinted on him growing up, especially his father. All throughout his childhood, his father had made it clear how things must and were going to be as a man, what role he’d play in this world, the importance of his masculinity and being a decent citizen of their great country. He wasn’t allowed to show any weakness and if his father caught him crying to his mother, he’d take him out and give him a good whipping then go make him work his fingers to the bone outside. Give him a real good reason to cry. If he spent too long on his hair or dressing up, his father would snatch him from his room and whip him. His father wasn’t going to raise no ‘queer’.


So when Wesley came to the end of high school, he focused not only on his education and the sports he was forced to be involved in, but also in girls. He had been a good looking young man, plenty of girls to fawn over him so it wasn’t difficult to pick a girl. They were the cream of the crop after all and his father was pleased whenever he invited one home for dinner. Eventually one girl stuck out enough to him for him to pursue full-time. She was the least annoying, least clingy of the bunch. She smelt nice, had a nice smile, got good grades, and she was his first true lover. He had lost his virginity to her.

They had dated for a couple years, went to college together, and during their second year, she got pregnant. His father had chewed him out for allowing that to happen before they were wed and while they weren’t even properly settled. So to do the right thing, Wesley had asked her hand in marriage and they got wed a couple months later before she began to show too much. Nine months after the pregnancy announcement, their son, Kellan, was born. Wes hadn’t thought too much before if he wanted to be a father or not. Even when it was something his parents spoke about and how that was the righteous path to follow, he had been more focused on other things. Had thought creating a family could wait until he was maybe in his late twenties or thirties, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. But when he first held Kellan in his arms, he felt his heart expand with love and he vowed he’d love and care for this infant no matter what.

Or at least that is what he thought. Wesley had become a successful adult as an electrician and plumber. A manly man’s job. Yet despite that, he maintained his appearance dutifully. He liked to call himself a ‘metrosexual’ whenever someone brought up the fact that shaved his face, waxed, cleaned the dirt from under his nails every day, kept them nice and trimmed, plucked his nose hairs, etc. All traits that his father would think of as ‘girly’ and ‘gay’. He had suppressed any possibility of attraction to men in the far recess of his mind because he couldn’t be gay, he wasn’t allowed to be attracted to men. It wasn’t what ‘men did’. He had thought he could break the cycle, be a better father than his own, but years of abuse, of being oppressed by his father, by all the foul and derogatory words spoken into his ear, was hard to overcome.


When Kellan’s mother left and he was alone to raise him, Wes did his best. Made sure to provide his son with everything he could want; toys, games, tools, attention. Though whenever his son leaned towards more feminine toys and clothes, he’d scold him and direct him to something more suited for him. Actions that were almost instinctual, done without thought. He didn’t realize that he had slowly become his own father over Kellan’s most developmental years. When Kellan came of age to hit puberty was when their otherwise good relationship became strained and tumultuous. It seemed despite his lessons and direction, Wes stumbled upon his son making out with another boy on his couch. It had turned into a shouting match, scaring the poor boy scrambling from his house and his son marching to his room refusing to talk to him. And things only got worse.

Wesley watched as his son grew more rebellious, vehement towards him, spewing nasty words at him, refusing to even eat dinner with him at times. He felt lost as he tried to mend some of their relationship, tried to have conversations with him, tried to find common ground with him again. It didn’t help that Wesley’s father died when Kellan was only seventeen and around the same time, Kellan’s grandmother had cut Kellan out of her life. Refusing to have any sort of relation with a ‘faggot’. Wesley had gotten mad with his mother for that, even if he was disappointed in his son’s orientation. No matter what, he wasn’t going to cut his son out of his life. Just try to guide him into making better choices, or so he believed he would…and could.


It didn’t help that seeing his son with these boys, soon men as they all came of age, made him feel strange himself. Wes couldn’t explain the feelings, though he could certainly pinpoint frustration and loathing. Though it seemed the loathing was more towards himself than his son. To the outside world, people admired him for being a loving father to a ‘normal rebellious son’, but they didn’t know the truth. Didn’t know the sort of degradation he heard within his own home, the drugs he witnessed his son doing despite how many times he got on his case for it. Nor did they, or even his son know, that sometimes he sat in the living room below his son’s room, alone with the lights dimly lit, nursing a beer with the TV down low, listening to his son railing another man in his bed. Wes could hear the scraping of the bed across the floorboards, the loud grunting and groans leaking through, could almost hear the skin slapping and how those sounds affected him.

For a while, Wesley tried to ignore it, tried to drown it out with alcohol and increase the volume of his show, but eventually he was worn down. Warmth spread through his body and having gone years without any sort of intimacy or attention, Wes would find himself aroused. He fought the urges, he drank more, he paced, anything to get his mind off of it, but he would succumb to his base desires, and jack off on the couch listening to his son fucking his new flavor for the night. He lost count of how many times he came like that, but he knew he was going crazy from it. Wes was bitter, jealous even, as he’d watch his son’s lovers limp down the stairs looking disheveled and properly fucked, smelling of it before they left. Made him wonder if it was really that good.


This night was much like those nights. Once again, he could hear the telltale sounds of Kellan pounding some dude into oblivion. The shouts and screams were hard to miss and especially to ignore and he felt his cock pulsing. Wes groaned as he bit the side of his hand and tried to focus on the television ahead of him and not the bulge in his jeans. Yet he couldn’t get the image of his son fucking those boys, knowing what kind of beast sat between those thighs. Wesley’s own average six incher did not compare. He was amazed just how much testosterone Kellan reeked of in comparison to himself. It was almost shameful. His heart pumped harder as he massaged himself through his jeans, groaning and feeling his cock jump at the sound of the headboard slamming particularly hard against the wall. It sounded like their lovemaking was coming to an end though with the louder, shorter whines and soon the house was silent again except for the TV.


Time ticked by and Wesley hadn’t even made himself cum for he felt his own mind come to a decision he had been fighting for weeks. He lost track of how long it had been, but soon the strange man descended the stairs, barely spared him a glance, before hurrying out of his home. Wes watched him go as he chugged the last of his warm beer. Crunching up the can, he hissed and felt his cock pulse at what deviant thoughts were going through his mind. His body rose almost mechanically, his arousal making it a bit difficult to make the short walk to the stairs. He could almost smell the sex from where he stood and without thought, followed the smell all the way up to Kellan’s room. The door was shut and he stood there, with a lump in his throat and heart racing a mile a second, wondering what the hell was doing here. He was tempted to turn and leave, but he was frustrated, buzzed, and horny and god did he need to find out why his son loved fucking men. Why other men liked to be fucked by him.


Wesley steeled his jaw as he finally raised his fist and knocked on the door, “Kell? I need to speak to you. Can I come in?” ​

 

[Verse]

Kellan remembered his childhood with the kind of dark filter emotional minds usually sift through life with. He loved his father, his only constant, but he wasn't sure of that, always. Or rather, it wasn't important. There was a lot of fuel in him, and it needed to burn something. Didn't matter that Wesley footed the bill for the walls and the roof Kellan lived under, even after numerous corrections on Kell's 'lifestyle'. The things Wes would say sounded robotic, like they had been pounded into him, in turn. Grandfather Tommy Mason had soon revealed to be the source. It wasn't that hard to guess. Once or twice, Tom had said the same things, muttering it. Dad liked to tell Kellan how handsome he was, and how his cheekbones reminded of grandpa's. Should have known back then, but those kind of complexes are hard to clock when you're a wee lad.

And maybe it was his grandpa's violence in his own blood that let him be whoever the fuck he wanted. Despite being kind of willowy in his very present, exploding youth, there was some meat on Kellan's arms that sometimes offset the poet look to a more formidable one. It made the girls go crazy first, but he didn't like the way they felt. First guy was actually a boyfriend come to beat him up about his girl. Kellan had went too far with the retaliation, and humiliation, and ended up making the guy cum with a log-cock up his ass. That was the Mason son's introduction into his own proclivities.

Couldn't stop after that. All his life he'd been fighting males. It seemed a good extension to keep on going, even when he developed other urges. Nothing stopped him other than the few bad emotions about it that dad had instilled in him. That sometimes made it better, though, more exciting. And as Kellan explored the fact that nothing could get in his way if he just took it, a monster looked back at him in the mirror. A monster he liked. Dark hair and very prominent cranium. A demon that rooted for him. Soon the boys at school knew Kellan wasn't playing around. And then that reputation spread. Sometimes boys at clubs would suck him off without even talking to him first.

And during this very active period, his father had tried to put his two cents in. Man had been the light of Kellan's life, despite a strict upbringing. But dads don't get to get in the way of their son's desires. Or, that's what Kellan thought. The future would crush them together. Wesley had long since lost the physical advantage though, and instead there was this tense silence whenever his dad wasn't on him about stopping this homo-shit. Hard to hear you over my dick gagging some pretty thing from the boy gymnastics team, dad. Kellan was unfettered, enjoying all the illicit pleasures of the night. Being strong and unhinged and sporting probably the best jawline in their neighborhood helped. How many straight guys had come to him to either pick a fight or "talk" and ended up with a belly full?

And there was that night with grandpa. The man had meant to beat him straight. Even let grandma watch and help. Like their opinions mattered. But Kellan had come, anyway, because he didn't back down anymore. Admittedly, things had gotten out of hand, but Kellan didn't mind the results. That's when he knew something was wrong with him, and he chose to fully embrace it. Grandpa had a revelation about his own sexuality when he died with his grandson in him, and grandma had just said it was a break in, no need for further investigation. Made Kellan feel bad at first, and then he felt like a god.

Good fuel for fucking, and he was unstoppable. Like it had given him more energy in the furnace already burning inside him. His old childhood room had long since been converted into an all-you-can-fuck buffet. The young men coming in always left as fully-educated twinks.

And tonight wasn't that different. The guy had been the football coach's son. Thought he'd get on Kellan's case about "turning" a few of the players when they were caught looking at that kind of porn in the locker room. But he'd seen the guy's expression when he wanted to talk. Didn't get a lot of words in before Kellan got to work on him too. He'd actually fought the first time, but today, he'd driven Kellan from the meet just so he could get grudge fucked into the pillow, and cum without anyone even touching his okay, but still smaller dick. Kellan even had him lick his sheets clean after, and was scrolling through the footage of it when there was a knock on the door.

The son had on a very cramped pair of boxer briefs. It had become a thing that guys who knew would offer him namebrand undies. These were stained because his cock, half swollen, had still been wet when he put them on. Kellan remained inclined on the bed and playing with his phone. "Yeah?" he muttered to let his father in. Not a big brainer what Wesley Mason wanted to talk to him about, after the loud session he'd just had. The son lounged on the bed that was really too small for two people to sleep, was tall enough to dwarf the mattress. And the bulge in the elastic fabric was vulgar to say the least, the white material darkened. He did sit up slightly against the board when his father came in. His young muscles were well shadowed in the dim light that faded out the mess in the rest of the room, but focused on the scene of the disheveled bed, and seemed to burn male body fluids to smell more in here. It was a bubble of secrets being shared openly. Kell's hair was messy atop the head on the long neck as he swung his legs over the edge to put his feet on the floor where he and dad had built legos not many years ago. The son's body was pumped from having, well, pumped. There were still traces in his breath of the physical activity.

There was a strange look in his father's eyes that made Kellan stop and put his phone away. He glanced downward on the man and his pulse quickened, and a mischievous smile had to be quelled. He'd seen this kind of thing before, just never with his dad. This was going to be a night to remember.

"What's up, dad?" he asked, trying to keep the predatory amusement away from his voice. He patted the space beside him on the bed. Maybe it was time they started playing new games in this room.

 

[oropherion]

There were many memories that flooded to mind with him standing in this same position, outside this very same door. Each instance changed and gradually manifested into confrontations that left his chest aching afterwards. In the beginning, they were pleasant ones of his son between five to six years old, when he'd come home from work and knock to invite himself in. Kellan had been excited back then to see him and invite him in so they could play with Legos and monster toys because he refused to let his son play with dolls. For some reason, Kell always loved to play the villain, the monster, and always wanted him to lose. He had always been a bit of a sore loser even up into the present. It was something Wesley should have realized then what he was realizing now; his son had become a monster. That truth started to come to light the more parents complained to him, especially during his high school stunts up until he graduated and entered college. The rumors, the accusations being flung at Kellan, were a constant trigger of their fights. Even so, Wesley adamantly defended his son against them because no matter how dark and upset his son had come to be in this world and with him, he wasn't that kind of monster. Not when he saw many of his flings limp out of his house looking quite satisfied underneath the layer of shame they wrapped around themselves like a blanket.


While he and Kellan didn't see eye to eye on his sexuality and promiscuity, Wesley loved his son enough to still defend him from those that wished to tear him down. It didn't stop him from his own guilt in regards to the matter. How Kellan's behavior was a reflection on his strict, overbearing lessons, his rather unkind and derogatory words he flung at him in the heat of anger. Bouts that didn't seem like himself, but more his father, Tommy, coming to light. In the heat of the moment, he was just angry and resentful of how Kell had turned into the complete opposite person he had (thought) he wanted him to be, but when he was alone after Kellan cussed him out and told him how he hated his guts, Wesley would have to sit in his room and flounder under those heavy words. Long gone was the doey eyed boy that looked up to him like some kind of hero and in came this dark-eyed sinuous beast of a barely turned adult. It was incredulous how fast Kellan had grown and how much bigger. It didn't take long for the balance of power to shift in this home. Their battles were of wit and verbal tongue lashings, but Kellan made it clear how quickly and able he was to overpower his father physically should the need arise by shoving him aside to get through him. It was another jab at his own masculinity that Wesley had to bear as he was proud and almost horrified upon the growth of his own son.


It was why there was a bit of fear underlying all the arousal and conflicted feelings coursing through his veins as he stood outside his son's room this evening. This decision could only go two ways and one so negatively that Kell could actually kill him if he so desired. After all, no son in their right state of mind would ever entertain what Wesley had come here. The disgust in himself was twisting his guts, but his dick was too hard to listen to reason, and with impulsivity he knocked upon the door. The sound seemed to echo loudly as if they were in a too small chamber. It vibrated through his arm and into his chest making his chest and throat feel tight. Of course he could always find a different excuse and his mind was fumbling to come up with one when his son's deep voice welcomed him inside. The excuse for his intrusion was there, just hanging off the tip of his tongue, when he pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It quickly died though at the immediate wave of sex that hit him. The thick scent of musk and sweat overwhelmed his senses, almost made him dizzy with how it made his cock throb within his jeans, as if the organ was drawn forth by it. His hand raised to his head briefly as if to steady himself, but he was almost jerked back by the lazing posture of his son against the headboard wearing the tightest, white boxer briefs he had seen. He had already known his son was well hung, but it was an entirely different beast to see in this light, staining those white garments and bulged almost obtusely.


Wesley felt the knot in his throat grow thicker as he adverted his gaze, as if he was planning to take a glance around the all too familiar room in the first place. A room where he had sat playing many different games with his son, all innocent and unaware of the turbulent future they'd encounter. His son had just become a man, which was a loose term because he was barely a few years past eighteen, but his stature and posture belied all of that. Despite his son overpowering him by several inches and had the softer, youthful skin and bearings, his soft skin was still pulled tight over lean muscles. He bore the same high cheekbones all Mason men had, including Wes himself, and the shape of their lips were the same, their jaws equally sharp. Kellan got his eyes and hair from his mother, but his nose structure from him. And yet while he knew it was his son sat before him, Wes was almost appraising him as if he was a different entity. Someone attainable, someone he might have pursued had circumstances been different, had he the confidence that this was what and who he was. It was no shocker why women fawned over him, but were rejected while supposedly straight men ended up finding themselves within this same room, seeking exactly what he was. There was just some kind of power Kellan held that untouchable.


Wesley managed to draw himself out of his reverie as he stepped deeper into the room. He ignored the smell of sex as much as he could as Kellan indicated for him to sit beside him on the bed. A dangerous offer, but his mind was consumed by fog and not thinking past the lust-induced haze as he approached and sat down. His posture was stiff, as if every joint had locked up as he sat beside his son, facing the wall and not meeting his eyes directly. He saw hints of Kellan's childhood everywhere even if most of his old toys were boxed up and tucked away, but the memories lingered. It should have been enough to get him on his feet and rushing out of the room, but he sat as if glued there now that he had crossed that threshold. Wes ran a hand nervously through his short cropped locks, peppered with silver, before he sighed as he dropped it back down to his lap. Where he could feel the heat of his own arousal that made it so hard to think straight. Literally. He almost mentally scoffed at the awful pun in his head before he leered and coughed. ".....Hope you were careful with that last one." It wasn't what he wanted to say, but it at least got him talking as he glanced around for any signs of condoms. Did his son use them? It didn't seem likely which made him sigh inwardly.


"I....suppose as your father I should be proud of your conquests, clapping you on the shoulder for another notch in your belt." Wes chuckled wryly because those kinds of fathers were those with straight sons who were able to draw in girl after girl until they found the one of their dreams, if they were lucky. It left a bitter taste on his tongue that he couldn't be 'normal' like those other fathers, that his son couldn't be 'normal' like their sons too. Perhaps the apple really didn't fall that far from the tree. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched it, hands balling into fists briefly, before he exhaled deeply and eased his grip. He clutched his knees as he slightly twisted to face Kell, brows knit before tensing up again as their eyes met. There was an almost strange look in Kell's eyes, one he couldn't describe. Anticipation? Curious? Devious? He wasn't quite sure and it made his mouth go dry, feeling like he was talking with cotton balls in his mouth. "I...just don't get it. How you get these guys to come to you and let you....let you fuck them. Why they come back." He fidgeted as he scraped the manicured nail of his thumb along the side of his index finger as he pressed on. "I hear them almost every night, literally begging for more. Screaming your name or something else entirely. Fuck, it almost sounds like two animals tearing each other apart sometimes." He huffed, flushed all the way down to his neck, chest rising sharply with the anxiety of each word he spoke, as he got closer and closer to the point. His cock was already hurting so much from being aroused, not even ebbed in the presence of his son, in fact it felt worse, which was truly awful to think about. He tried to subtly relieve some pressure by pressing his wrist against the bulge as he went on. "I just want to know what the big deal is. What its like to fuck a guy...or get fucked by one." There he said it. The heavy weight that he'd been bearing these past couple weeks was barely lifted because now he would either get beat to a bloody pulp by his son or fucked by him.

 

[Verse]

Kellan liked to soak in his bravado after the fact. His mood was always high after he'd gotten to cum into a good hole. And the guy who just left provided it rather well. He loved how the formerly cocky males were made to whimper into his pillow, or when they looked at him in dazed surprise when he pretzeled their bodies to make new angles to enter them through. Fucked them in ways that they hadn't even fucked their girlfriends or wives. Part of it was defeating them, and converting them to his way of thinking. It wasn't really negotiable in this room. If they'd arrived here, then there was something that needed to happen. And it only ever could with them submitting, whether by offering or by no small amount of force. But part of this smell would always be their leavings too. It was a point of pride for the youngest Mason to not only get into their heads, but into their pleasure centers too. It was easy to guess when they were the same as him. He liked when they called out in horror and delight when their smaller peens shot that confessional fluid that celebrated their subjugation.

All of this moved through his mind as he laid there, feeling darkly glorious after his latest session. It would have been enough food for his body and ego for a while, but the virile young man was always ready for more. What else would that elephant trunk of a cock be for, if not to beat the insides of other men sore? He was thinking absently of his father, in the way of what may be for dinner, when indeed he heard him knock. He was pretty excited about it, when all of the thoughts hit him at once. When he told his father to enter, he waited with an excitement not unlike what he used to, though he no longer worshipped the older man like then. Didn't meant there weren't things to love with Wesley. If Kellan was beautiful, than so was his father. They had different charms. He could imagine the man who'd raised him as something else now, especially when he stepped right into the mirages of the others who came in here to get railed. His expression wasn't much different from theirs. It was a revelation to the son. To think this day had come.

And when his dad was obviously affected by what he saw and the beautiful musk that Kellan had built up, of ass and cock and spit and sweat and a heaping load of hormones, it felt as though his father finally knew him. He let his father stagger to a stop, and also let the man take an eyeful. Kellan wasn't shy, and he'd seen his father look when he came out the shower with only a towel for modesty. But this was different. The room was filled up with aerosolized suggestion. And dad's eyes were brimming with that certain intent, no matter how unsure he was on how to present it. This was the kind of limbo the known deflowerer was very used to. Kellan tilted his head when Wes took an long, unintentional look on the swollen state of his son's underwear. Kellan didn't protest it. Sometimes his cock just produced its own mates, with its proportions and shape. It seemed to be doing a good job with it with Wesley. Kellan had never truly meant to direct any of this his fathers way, but he knew he'd been intense when he came down, sometimes in the middle of breaking someone in, to get a drink or a snack, and his father had been watching the tv, but not really. Maybe his smirks then had tipped the old man off.

It was obvious by how dad moved upon being told that he was going through an unwitting ritual of giving all power over to his son. The dynamic between them had been a particular point of pride of Wesley's, all throughout Kellan's life. He would brag to his friends how well his son listened, and sometimes have Kellan get them all beers from the fridge to show he was raising a well-adjusted man who'd listen to authority. But when that waned, so had Wes's confidence. Lately they were more like combatants that lived in their arena. It was easy to forget when Kellan spent so much time outside of the house, which meant his father only knew of a fraction of his dalliances. Kellan would have thought this was about that, if he hadn't seen the look in his father's eyes. Like a dog, the grown man sit himself down where he was told. Kellan smiled at how the bed gave to the weight of the extra body. Dad's blush brought out something predatory in the younger man. Dad did not smell like sex yet, but nobody would have missed the bulge. This could only end one way, but he'd let his dear father dance around it for a while, hanging himself. He laughed shortly at Wesley's first words. Careful?

"He didn't come here for careful, dad. He would have been disappointed." Amused, but he was also mocking, syllables playing with the idea that his father was daft. There were times when Wes would have spanked him for such a tone. He let the man go on. Let him walk himself up to the subject, and then prepare himself for execution. Every tension and every small release of it was delicious. It was almost painfully glorious to watch all the possible power between them be given over. So dad had just been agonized all these times, when pretty boys had come in here to get their holes stretched and their minds blanked by a good Mason-brand fucking. When he got to look his father in the eyes finally, he did so casually to put the man at ease. It would resound as power. Because to Wesley it was the biggest confession of his life, but Kellan wanted his dad to think to him, it was just another night and another suitor. He let himself harden in his revealing briefs as Wes went over his own escapades. The fabric was moist and thin enough that you could discern individual veins on the cock.

"That's a pretty gay thing to say, dad." he said dryly, dismissive. He reached out and stroked the back of his father's head, scratching the short hairs there. The treatment got rougher and then he was just palming the back of Wesley's neck. It was a dominant hold masked as affection. "What do you think the big deal is?" he offered and leaned back a bit, and shifted his hips. His cock came more into focus. It was absolutely crammed in there, lifting the fabric to the point when it wasn't just a bulge anymore, the material went in under the cock and into where it coiled. He yanked his father's head closer to his, and their mouths almost touched. "To know the answer you gotta show me how you really feel, dad." he breathed on his lips and then shoved him back by that grip, letting go. He nodded to the bulge his father was sporting. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours. I think that'll be the 'big deal' you're talking about." he said. "In fact, get it all off and I'll let you have a taste of the answer, too."

He was playing with the man who'd given him this room and the childhood that had happened in it. It was quite the rite of passage to have dad come here like this. Kings hadn't even had this passing of the crown. Now he would see how determined or confused Wesley Mason was about his own feelings. But it was obvious his cock had its little mind set.

 

[oropherion]

It was hard not to respond to his son's almost bratty tone in regards to the boy that he had just fucked despite the awkward situation he had put himself in. Wesley's eyes held that flash, like a warning, that he had better watch his tongue. Where he would have previously yanked his son (who was much smaller at that point) over his knees and give him a proper spanking. A lesson in back talking and trying to belittle him as the parent and authority figure. Alas the reason behind him sitting beside his son with a raging hardon between his own thighs was enough to make that annoyance sizzle out quickly, especially because spanking Kellan would not be the same as it was. Not when they were both sporting clear signs of a healthy libido. The images that were conjured up in his head only made him feel worse about himself, especially when his cock shown a sign of interest. There was a damp spot even in his denim jeans starting to form where the head was trapped, aching some relief and soon. His cock had gotten rather used to the nightly masturbation sessions that accompanied listening to other men getting railed by his son. It wasn't pleased that he was ignoring it especially when all it could smell was sex all around.

"My concern for your health always falls on deaf ears." Wes finally responded with a world-weary sigh. One would almost have been sympathetic towards him and most were, but they didn't know the sick thoughts twisting like a web in his brain. Ensnaring him in its trap of sin and lust. They just saw a regular old 'Joe' going to work, raising his son, and living a pretty average suburban man life. It was just a shell, a well built character he had developed from years of abuse and molding from his own daddy dearest. He became the vision of what Grandpa Mason wanted to see in a man. He tried to be perfect, follow all the rules constructed to make him so, and while flawed along the way, he had mostly kept to that indoctrination, and even tried to instill the same basics in his own child. The truth of how he had fumbled that mark was the image of himself reflected in his son's mirror. This pathetic forty year old bachelor, who was once a prime specimen back in the day, was now coming to his own son for sexual guidance. While he had aged well despite his misgivings throughout life, he knew he wasn't the greatest catch. Not with an adult son who was getting pretty well known throughout their town for his conquests.

Wes knew his already weak resolve was on the verge of collapse with the way Kellan shifted and his eyes were immediately drawn south. The fabric was almost pathetic in its valiant attempt to house the raging beast within. Sheer enough he could almost make out the details of his son's prick through it, and seeing how it darkened and dampened with each drop of pre made it hard to think. It was already hard to breath in this room, the stench of sex and sweat so strong. He just knew the bottom of his jeans were probably getting stained with Lord knows what kind of fluids splattered across these sheets. Yet the thought of it just made his heart race harder, made him envision the pretty boys, the athletes, and the few alternative boys he had seen come and go, getting their brains fucked out of their skulls. Made him pulse and twitch in his jeans, made him uncomfortable to keep sitting there, restrained as he was. So much so that he jumped when his son reached out and stroked the back of his head. His words sending a sharp pain of humiliation at the reminder that all of this was exactly what he had preached about being 'ungodly' and 'disgusting'.

Yet the way blunt fingers scratched at his scalp and squeezed firmly had more of a positive response than a negative, much to Wes's chagrin. It made his body feel warm and electric, buzzing with anticipation, anxiety, and guilt. A heady cocktail of emotions that made him much easier to manipulate. His eyes bore into Kell's, watching the rapid thoughts playing out in his smart and wicked brain, as he asked of him what he thought the big deal was. Wes felt his mouth go dry as his son exposed himself further with the way he leaned back, posing in such a tantalizing manner, like one would see on a dirty magazine. He swallowed, but it felt like nails going down his throat, as he tried to shake his head. The firm grip on it kept him from doing so before he was roughly yanked closer, their lips a hairs breadth apart, and he could feel the hot breath tickling over his thin lips. There was almost whiplash as he was just as quickly shoved back, head jerking from the treatment and he felt a twinge. He was no spring chicken that was for sure, didn't help with his job that he tended to have a bad neck and back pain most of the time anyways. But he said nothing at the treatment as he saw that Kellan was quite serious about his demand.

Wes should have felt relieved that his son didn't immediately persecute him for his rather unfatherly approach, but all he could feel was a bit of confusion. Like he wasn't sure if this a sick trick meaning to get him into a vulnerable position in order to kill him, or if Kellan actually desired this exchange. It made him sit there for a second longer, debating, but his cock (which meant his brain) was already made up. He got to his feet and was determined to not look like a scared rodent backed into a corner by a fox. Yet that was how it felt as he pried open the buttons of his blouse and shimmied it off of his arms. He tossed it onto Kell's desk chair followed by the wife-beater underneath. His skin was tanned by many years standing out in the sun, blemished by age and silver scars, but wasn't loose and elastic like some men his age. There were still some muscle tone in his chest and abdomen despite the softening of their lines. There was a light layer of dark hair across his pectorals and down the middle of his abdomen leading towards the waistband of his jeans. "This stays between you and me." He said firmly as he swiped a wide palm down his face and drew upon what little confidence remained within to finally unfasten the button and zipper of his jeans. With his jaw set, he pushed the material down and off, he was left in his own black boxers and black ankle-high socks. The bulge in his boxers wasn't nearly as prominent in comparison to his son's within the sheer fabric of his briefs, but it was not hard to miss. Nor the wet stain upon the front darkening the fabric.

With a second of second-guessing himself, Wesley removed the final layer of clothes that hid his shame. His average cock bounced up and pointed up and out, curved slightly left and not nearly as covered in veins as Kellan's. He was uncut and the foreskin was withdrawn to show the wet glans, and his balls hung heavy and tight against his body. His pubes were trimmed neatly, because that was what thing he couldn't stand was an untamed bush. Even on a man. He stood there with only socks upon his feet as he stared down at his completely relaxed and overly confident son still spread like he was the king of the castle upon his war-torn bed. "There. Now your turn." Wes somehow managed to speak, as if he had any power in this dynamic still. He was a jester's wish to have in it in this court, when the crown had been transferred from father to son by him merely seeking him out in his own territory. With his own games that Kell had become the master of. Wes hated the feeling of uncertainty and waiting, like he was a hunk of meat hung out for surveyors to peruse and choose if he was a good cut or not. ".....And if you don't want this, Kell, you need to tell me now. I can walk out and we can hopefully just put this behind us and not talk about it again." While it seemed like he was throwing his son a bone to back out, it was almost as if he was trying to throw it to himself. Like it was his final hope that Kell would just laugh at him and tell him to leave, and that he hadn't completely fucked up what little bearing and relationship he had with his son.

 

[Verse]

There was a ghost of their usual arguments. Old habits die hard. But after the initial anger from daddy dearest about the pique from his son, a rather disrespectful one, Wes settled into simply trying to smooth it over with a sorry excuse of concern for Kell's well being. It was not what would have happened on any other day. Lately they'd just been avoiding the subject all together. Now Kellan realized it must be because his father was wrestling with these kinds of thoughts, instead of simply becoming so angry with him he trusted to apathy instead. Good to know. But now it had boiled over, and they were gathered in his bed, that he'd had for quite a while. The frame was strong, and Wesley had said as much when they got it. It made the boy who would sleep in it even more interested. Dad liked sturdy things, because 'men have things that last'. To think he used to hang on this man's every word. But that worship was gone now. There was one fuck of a rebellious streak in the Mason son. Now Wes tried to not explode in the tension in here. Kellan was in no rush. He knew what he'd be getting out of this.

Especially when Wesley looked at his package when he moved. Dad had thrown glances before, but this was a full on stare. Kellan let him see the rising of the most robust object in their entire house. He wasn't sporting a full hardon, not like his father, but he was getting there. For a moment dad was unreachable, disappearing of into imaginings Kellan could well guess on. He made his cock twitch for the older man, and watched as a stain grew on his father's jeans. This would be so much fun. He laughed quietly when Wes almost darted out of his skin upon being touched, but that didn't stop the youth from playing with his father's salting pepper. Kellan himself had perfectly deep, pitch black hair, a bit of a mess now, ontop of his head. After the initial startle, the son made sure to pet his father's scalp to soothe him. It seemed their roles had reversed completely. Kellan wondered just what way he'd go with this, because Wesley had offered himself fully. To think he was tasked with sexually educating his former man's man dad on his own bed.

The formerly headstrong elder let himself be physically controlled by his kid. Kellan teased him mercilessly, and Wes couldn't help but stare at the cock when it took center stage, even through its flimsy clothing. Kellan was sure he could have kissed the life out of his father when their lips almost touched, and then enjoyed the way Wesley let him discard him after. It felt good to manhandle the 'man of the house'. He was learning exactly how strong his dad was. His will had certainly caved. The son was basking in his father's desire, and planned to punish him for it brutally. It's what the man had asked for, in so many words. It was still hard to believe when his dad obeyed him. Kellan shifted a bit more, this time not theatrically, but rather just out of pure excitement, when Wes stood up. He looked the grown body up and down before it started undressing. It was delicious to the young eyes, seeing his father's compliance. No son could have gone through this coming of age ritual; dominating his own father. He grinned to himself as he got all he wanted out of the man.

Kell shrugged from where he half-sat, watching the show. His father's body wasn't as firm as his other toys, but he thought it was beautiful as a trophe. It was honest and it belonged to the man who had thought to rule him his entire life. He just snickered when his father took more strength and then made a demand he had no right to. With a subtle check to the side, he realized his phone was still recording, and had no trouble looking his father in the eye after that. Stays between them? "You think you're giving the orders here, Mr. Mason?" he asked with laughter in his throat. His son's foot curled when the jeans came off and the prize was revealed underneath, though still clad in tight black. He was very curious to see dad's manhood. And when he did, he didn't move his face one bit. The things it represented were bigger than the object itself. It was a good enough cock, but it symbolized so much more. The end of their family as they knew it, and the birth of something crooked and filthy. And glorious. He snorted when Wes had his moment of doubt, and then tried to assert himself. "Wow. You really want to get fucked by your son, don't you, Wesley?" he answered. But it was followed by a moment of weakness from the standing man. He looked so submissive and indignant with the socks still on. How had he known the receiver always kept them on? Maybe it just came naturally to him.

"Okay." he said with a sigh at dad's offer of backing out. He sat straighter up and on the very edge of the bed, which brought him closer to his dad, and his protruding cock. "I don't want this." he said and looked up at his father in the eyes. From Wesley's vantage, Kell was now as short as he used to be, when he ran in this room. But his eyes were full of beastly hunger. He reached out to touch dad's stomach, and stroke down along the hair, swirling a finger in the pubes before letting the fingertip ride the hilt and up the shaft. He rested it to plug up the slit. He rolled his touch as though to gently widen the hole. "Who would want a little thing like this?" he asked and then brought his finger back by curling it, and then flicked it forward to snap over the cockhead. His voice then changed.

"When I already have this." he stood to remind the man what he'd grown into, almost a head taller. Skinny but festered with long, powerful lines. In the motion of getting on his feet, he had pushed his briefs down. The large cock was now swinging at Wes's belly height. While the distance between them could not be covered by the older man's penis, the son's cock had to rest on Wes's torso, riding it all the way past his diaphragm. The head pushed out of the foreskin was red and purple, swollen. And the bend of the shaft which was sick with veins, suggested it wasn't fully erect, even now. He was very proud over his mammoth appendage. The difference between the two was absolute. "So walk out, dad." he offered but didn't move. "Go ahead. If you can turn your back on this, then I welcome you to do that." he said. His ballsack was taut to his shaft but crammed with the big orbs in there. "Here, I'll help you." he offered and then moved back to grab his father's cock with one hand and pulled it, turning the man and leading him toward the door. This alone should be driving Wes mad. It was a parent's trick to manipulate their children, pretending to give them what they want to show them they really didn't. "You go forget all about this, then, which you've been so good at so far." he piled on, sadistic and laughing, pulling harder to force Wes forward as he let go, making the man stagger into the door, discarded. Kellan folded his arms and looked expectantly as his father, his own cock barely standing, like the monster was too heavy for itself, but still dwarfing the cock it had once come from.

"Or you can do what you really want. You can get on your knees and raise your son." he offered. Raise him the rest of the way. Many wanted to worship the cock Kellan offered Wesley, and it should like to be brought to full rigidity again.

 

[oropherion]

An unpleasant feeling settled in Wesley's gut when Kellan referred to him like one would greet an acquaintance of sort. It made him feel a little dizzy with the mixture of confused neurons snapping in his brain, uncertain of how to handle this tonal and mental shift. While it had a good potential to help dissociate himself from the the title of father in this situation, it didn't make it feel any better or didn't leave an ache of loss behind. Especially when Kellan called him by his first name in such an accusatory, playful tone that was so wrong coming from his son. It almost made him clam up despite being in his nude with his hard cock out on display, that no amount of words could explain away. Because that was why he was here, at this very moment in Kellan's room. Not to come up here and scold him for fucking the coach's son, not for his gay escapades that just never seemed to end, or the insolent way Kell often acted out nowadays no matter what Wes tried to do to reign him in. His dick had led him up here and through that door to sit upon the very bed he would sometimes read adventure and action stories to his son. Now the only action this bed saw was a bunch of hedonist acts that would give the most devout a heart attack.

"You don't have to say it so bluntly, Kell." Wes felt like his whole face and neck was burning up, like Hell had opened up and was slowly consuming his body ready to bring him down into the pits he deserved to rot in for this heinous act. He was sick, there was no doubt about that, and he had no clue that Kellan was recording this in any way. That there was no hiding this act of treason against their familial bond. It was that little voice, which he would have loved to call reason, that made him hesitate, made him give his son the chance of getting out of this. It wasn't like he was a monster himself who'd force himself upon the young man whom he had helped create and bring into this world. Right now, he couldn't see this tall, brazen, young man as the same baby he had held in his arms in the hospital ages ago. All he saw was a healthy young man with a slim, but fit body that a lot of guys would either desire to have, or desire to fuck or be fucked by, he supposed. A thick head of dark hair, equally deep eyes, a sculpted face, and a cock like no other. That was what Kellan was right now in Wes's eyes despite the flashes and images of the past.

Wes wavered though and felt an icy grip on his chest when Kell sat on the edge of his bed, peering up at him with all too familiar eyes, and sighed out his declaration. His body seized up and an apology was forming on his tongue, like a bucket of ice had just been dumped over his head and he realized he had truly messed up. He didn't quite hear the sarcasm in the tone at first, but before the apology could fall free from his lips, a finger was traveling over the faint hairs littering his abdomen, making the muscles twitch at the almost ghost-like touch. A shudder ran down his spine as the same finger quested up his shaft, making it throb harder than it was before. A low, rumbling moan escaped his lips before he clenched his jaw tight at the feeling of the finger pressing against his slit. Pre-cum bubbled against the digit, bubbling up around it as it was plugged from escape, before it managed to slither free and glisten upon the red swollen glans. He hated how just that fleeting, teasing touch made him react, made his hips jolt forward, made him ache in want for someone that should be completely untouchable to him. The flick to his cockhead made him flinch and hiss, hips jerking in response. "I-I get it. Okay? I'll g--."

Wes hesitated, hesitated long enough to see the boy grow into a man, that imposed upon the elder just how much Kellan had grown. Truly letting it sink in that Kellan was no longer the little boy that he could mold and command into the man he wanted him to be. No longer the boy who worshiped him, who looked up to him, but now looked down upon him physically and metaphorically. The way his son's cock crossed the distance between them, resting upon his diaphragm, and dwarfing his own cock made his breathe hitch. It completely emasculated him, showed him what he could never be, or even accept. Kellan was in full control of himself and this beast he was blessed with. The way it didn't even seem fully erect was incredulous to think about considering how it took up all of his abdomen in length. Just imagining that thing in his guts made his cheeks clench and debate on whether it was worth experiencing or not. Yet somehow all of those young men cried in pleasure upon it, begged for it, so it had to feel good.

Kellan's taunting was not helping matters. He felt like he was experiencing whiplash trying to figure out if he was pushing his son to agree or not, if this was something his son wanted to pursue or was just mocking him. When a firm, calloused hand wrapped around his shaft and jerked him around to face the door, he startled and almost tried to bat the hand away in retaliation. The grip was firm and tight, made him throb immediately upon having contact with a another human hand besides his own. He hated how it made his pulse race and the cockhead weep almost as if crying about the idea of being kicked out without further attention. It was a humiliating act and he felt it to his core as he stumbled into the door, arms flying out to brace for the impact. He was panting as he stood there, legs lightly trembling as he hung his head between his arms. He tried not to look at how red and angry his cock looked, just even from that brief manhandling, how it might have felt had Kellan truly given it his attention. He swallowed around the thick lump in his throat, feeling the sweat beading along his heated flesh, tongue darting across his lips and almost tasting the breath of his son that had been so close before. Mind wondering without his consent what it might have felt like had Kell truly kissed him, had claimed his mouth in a passionate kiss much like his mother used to do in the beginning of their relationship.


Wes shook those thoughts free and scraped his hand through his damp locks as he straightened up and turned around, which was his downfall as he peered upon his expectant son. His heart jumped and he knew his mind was made up as he made an uncertain step forward then a more certain one before he began slowly dropping to his knees. "....I'm sorry. I'm such a shit father for wanting this," he muttered with shame even as his hand came up to brush along the underside of the beast hung limp before his face. Felt the weight of it and wondered how anyone in their right mind could let this fuck them? He felt a pulse of arousal that he could only explain as some twisted masochistic desire to punish himself for this, as he took a firm grip upon his son's meat and stroked it to try to regain some hardness to the limp prick. A perfect excuse to give himself more time to work himself upon to even putting his mouth on it. He certainly couldn't fit all of it in his mouth, didn't think there was a human alive that could, and huffed. "....I still don't understand where this came from. A bit too much don't you think?" He said lowly, as if talking to the cock and the man it belonged to at the same time. His wrist was already beginning to ache just jerking it off as it seemed to take a while to go from root to tip in one stroke. Some life seemed to have returned to it, but he knew Kellan was expecting much more than a weak handjob. He coughed and swallowed, almost grimacing at the task he was giving himself by having come here in the first place, as he closed his eyes and took his first tentative taste of his son's cock. His tongue flicked the cockhead, like it was scared by the beast and how it would retaliate, giving a small glob of salty pre that made him flinch at first. But then he exhaled from his nose and wrapped his lips around it, trying to suck it in like he had watched his ex-wife do.


There was no skill in the act, a virginal mouth attempting to pleasure the thick rod, but unable to get it too deep without going into a coughing fit. After a few brief bobs, he had attempted to get a few inches into his maw, but Wes had quickly yanked his head back to gag and cough, spittle frothing at the corner of his lips and voice a hint raw. "Fuck....there is no way you fuck anyone with this thing." He huffed as he squeezed Kell's cock and jerked it up and down in response, almost glowering up at his son's face in disbelief.

 

[Verse]

Dad had an aversion to having the roles switched. Kellan knew he would. He had encountered alpha males trying to get into this kind of thing before. They were weary of letting go, but that was also the entire point of it for them. Those were the ones that found themselves addicted, more than middle of the road explorers. It was going to be fun ushering his father through all the different stages, and see them play out in the elder's body. Once upon a time, Kell had ridden on those shoulders. Now he was going to make this man kneel and crawl for him. The tension in Wes was exhilarating. At any point he may duck out. Would Kell force himself on his own father, then? He had tamed a few like that, initiating them into their own weakness. According to dad's stories, he knew how to handle himself in a fight, but Kell had suffered a lot for his own inclinations, too. Wesley wasn't the only one averse to this life style. The son was sure he could best the parent that had come here. But that wasn't the point. Not tonight, anyway. Wesley wanted to be taught, and not forced.

He stood for his father's scrutiny. While not the bulky proportions of some primal giant, Kellan did have the height of one. His body went through food as fast as Wes could cook and provide it. It was hard work fueling this body, and the only place it seemed to stuck, save for the long muscles that never managed to swell, was the cock. Like it ate it all.

He enjoyed the power he had when he played with his father's offered-up cock. The twitches and the searching protrusion of Wes's own hips made him look famished for touch. Many women had vied for dad's attention over the years, a man who took care of his son alone was popular, but dad had never really dated seriously after mom. Kell had thought it was romantic until recently, and realized it was because the man preferred other things. Grandpa had died not knowing himself. Kell would make sure that fate didn't befall his father. The oozing precum and the very sensitive, diamond hard cock showed just what Wesley Mason wanted, and it wasn't another wife. Just the fact that he was allowing his son to touch and play with him like this meant he was very far gone. A juvenile glee pulled at his lips when his father twitched at having his cock snapped at with a finger. He had never seen him so full of hunger and frustration. He must have really riled himself up, listening to the fucking that still filled this room. Kellan knew dad listened, but not with what intent.

The delicious confession from the no-longer patriarch was cut off. Kellan adored how the man shrunk before him, and how the presence of Kell's cock had muted him completely. It was easy to assume that if the noises and the suggestions of his son fucking the life out of someone had brought the man to this shameful plea, that the actual sight of the superior cock would leave him in an even worse state. So far, Kell wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at it with such fearful worship. The fat thing was a hulking collection of flesh and veins and sins on the Mason junior's hips. An absolute point of pride, not just for Kellan, but should be for Wesley, as well. Hadn't the older man been part in creating this? How many generations had it skipped? But Wes paid it back with worship now, Kellan saw, as his father eyed him thoroughly. Kellan liked it. He measured up well to most perimeters, and his father had come here for one thing. Dastardly, the youth swayed his hips to make the cock move slightly, riding his father's torso. Sometimes just showing off did the work to siren call others to him. The son liked that he could hypnotize his father like that. Soon enough that very limb would be the center of Wesley's world. It always became that to those who hard tried it. But Wesley had come here without having seen it fully. He had been subdued by just the idea of it.

Dad couldn't fight him. Not when he held his cock tightly and pulled him along. It was a sure show of submission, to give your cock away like that. Wesley didn't swat or kick or fight. He was surprised but he was also wrought in pleasure as his young offspring dragged him by the handle and threw him into the door. A small, shrill chuckle, as Kellan watched his father be all but undone by the limited touch. From behind, when dad was hunched over and supporting himself like that, ass bare for his son, it looked rather inviting, especially with those twinky socks still on. To think he had ever considered this man dominant.

When Wesley turned he was exactly the kind of dad Kellan had pushed him to be. The younger Mason was excited and his eyes widened when Wesley knelt before him. Kell had managed to break him down to this. It was monumental to see his former hero like this. Kell swallowed when dad held on to his cock. The blood started flowing as Wes held a conversation with the limb. How perverted. He groaned with agreement. "Yeah, what kind of father asks his son to fuck him?" The more light they shone on this perversion, the more Kellan got to enjoy it. And the more Wesley had to accept it. Unforgiving, Kell continued not to let his father forget. The cock still smelled like ass. His father was actually jerking him off. He stroked the kneeling man through his very reasonably cut hair. He just loved the visual relationship his father was building to his cock. Kell's jaw crushed tight when dad finally took courage and started licking the cock. The novice was delicious. His son's fingers clawed at his scalp. "You can start atoning with my pleasure." he said. "I never thought you were such a weak man, after how you tried to raise me to be strong." he knew that'd cut deep. But humiliation was dad's aphrodisiac, whether he wanted to or not.

He let his father find himself on the blood-filled monolith. He grunted as the oral treatment tried to execute at least a bit of its ambition, and failed. At least Wesley knew how his son's precum tasted. The frustrated worship that Wes cussed the rod out with pleased Kellan. He laughed mockingly. "Is that right, dad?" he said darkly. He then grabbed both sides of Wesley's face and made him look up as his hips pushed his cockhead over Wes's cheekbone and into his brow until the ballsack mashed against Wes's chin and the tip extended beyond Wes's hairline. It was a beautiful sight to have his giant cock eclipsing his father's features. The hidden camera would love it. "Tongue out." he said dryly. And when dad obeyed, the son would start sawing the underside of his gargantuan limb up and down the slick coaster. And upon one retreat, he aligned the head with his father's mouth. "Open wide." he said, expecting obedience. Upon which he'd push the head in. He helped with the bobbing, teasing but not using dad's throat. He popped out a few times because he liked the sound, but always returned it. "It's gonna fuck you, dad." he reminded. "You don't have to believe it, but it's what you begged me for." He transitioned the two hand hold to having just one in Wesley's hair again, using the other to grab the shaft to start beating his father's cheekbone with the heavy, body-temperature baton.

"Come here." he said eventually and turned, hand still holding on to black and gray strands, leading his father like a dog back toward the bed. Leaning down, he guided the crawling adult not just by pulling his hair, but also by reaching down between those thighs to grab onto his balls firmly, directing dad's trajectory completely, until Wes's face pushed into the edge of the mattress. At least Kell lifted Wes's chin onto the bed, so he could see his father's face as he harshly massaged his scrotum. "Comon now, get up on the bed." he said and squeezed harder before letting go. He was curious to see what position his father would chose.

 

[oropherion]

When had Kellan become the master class of manipulation? Because everything he had done and said so far rang so clear of it, like it was something he had practiced and now did without thought. Like being in charge and in power was something that just came natural to him, even when it had been a trait that Wesley had worked to instill in him. Just like Grandpa Mason had worked his whole life to instill into his own son. Yet two seasons of patriarchs had been broken and overpowered by the heir to their lineage. How quickly Kellan had been able to move him about his room, just by his own cock, and toss him forward with an almost playful taunting as if the younger man knew exactly what the end result would be. He must have and this must have been a whole game to him the moment Wes had sat beside him to bring up what had brought him to this room in the first place. The chess pieces had been set and Wes had easily, and eagerly, walked right into his trap. The king was captured and forced to his knees, ceding his power to the younger Mason without a proper fight. His willpower had already been tested these past few weeks and had finally snapped so there was no fight to give as he had already accepted this humiliation of his pride and valiant effort of being the proper, good heterosexual father that he had play acted in front of everyone. Had he ever been able to lie to Kellan? Not really and the truth was laid out before his son's eyes now as his weak father became eye level to his steel rod made of flesh.

"A sicko." Wes muttered at the taunting words of his son, eyes cast low and upon the monster that had dragged out the darkness in his soul. That had become the bane to his hidden self, without him realizing it. The echoes of those other men's cries sounded in his head, the haunting sounds of furniture squeaking and banging against the walls, a symphony of wanton cries that were a siren's call to his own base desires. Desires that kept him rooted to the carpeted floor of his son's room and gave him the guts to touch the forbidden flesh, let his tongue get a taste of what he should never have access to. It was certainly more than he expected and he knew the juices lathered upon the rod were not just from his own son's spend, but from that of the ass he had just claimed moments ago. Somehow that sick thought only spurred him on rather than fully disgust him and it was something he would bury inside once more so he didn't have to think about how depraved that sounded. A hiss escaped his lips as nails scraped across his scalp as fingers took a firm grip upon his hair, keeping him in place as his mouth continued its exploration of the unfamiliar sex. Kell's words had a dual reaction from Wes; a reaction of shame that bowed his shoulders under the weight of it and a reaction of elation that made his cock pulse and weep almost generously upon the floor beneath him.

It was making his jaw ache from the motions of mouthing and trying to fit the massive cock into his mouth. It was a test of patience and endurance, he was finding. It was frustrating as well because it made him feel inadequate inside knowing he wasn't good at something. His father had always told him if he was going to learn a skill, he'd better perfect it. Time was valuable and not to be wasted. Though sucking cock wasn't a skill his father would have approved of. His face was flushed from his attempt and his eyes a little wet from frustration as two hands forced his head steady and his gaze upwards. The instructions made his heart jolt in his chest, especially as he felt the cock line up with the side of his face, a heavy hot weight against his cheek. The size almost soul-crushing in how little it made him feel as a whole, but he obeyed because there was that sick twisted part of him that just wanted to make his son happy. To earn his forgiveness and be the man he should have been for Kell, and if this was how he could do it? Then he'd stick his tongue out and let Kellan grind his cock on it. He was forced to breath in his son's musk and sweat, almost becoming high off the heady scent that overwhelmed his nostrils as the cock ground up and down his face, using his tongue as he saw fit. His face was quickly becoming a mess of juices from both his son's cock and his own spittle when Kell finally pulled back to line his head up with his parted lips.

Wes almost dazed from the experience thus far, but his jaw pried open and allowed Kellan to push his girth into his open maw. His eyes squinted as he hollowed his cheeks, doing his best to suck and service the flesh weapon sheathing itself into his oral cavity. Thankfully without going too deep yet. He had hoped his son would give him that mercy at least, because he didn't fancy dying from suffocation on it. He was groaning and squeezing his hands upon his son's waist, even as his own weeping cock begged for similar attention between his thighs. Every time the cock popped out, he'd pant and swallow air quickly before the cock returned to its wet host, taking the abuse and enjoying it even as Kellan's words, almost a threat, made all the hairs on his body stick up knowing what would be coming up next. His ass clenched at the mere thought, a bit of fear bleeding into the arousal fogging his brain, but he didn't have much time to think of that with how Kell slapped his face around with his beast of a cock. "F-fuck," he groaned out, tongue darting out across his puffy lips as he grunted while being maneuvered by his hair towards the bed, forced to walk on his hands and knees to it.


The act was humiliating in itself, knowing Kellan was able to watch from above him walk like a dog, dick and balls swinging in motion with his movements. The act almost made him think of when things were the opposite, but in an entirely different and far more innocent context. His skin heated up under the scrutiny even while his scalp burned from the way his short hairs were tugged. Thank God he had a good hair care routine that his short, thick strands were pretty strong and he hadn't gone bald yet. When a hand grasped his balls firmly, he let out a yelp of shock and jolted, legs shuffling forward quicker. His face smashed against the side of the mattress until Kell lifted his head to allow him to breathe properly. He almost whined at the painful ache rising up from his groin at the harsh massage to his balls, making his thighs tighten on Kell's arm briefly. "Shit." He cursed as he pulled himself upon onto the bed, relieved at the hand leaving his sensitive sac, though it still throbbed in its wake. "Like this?" He asked after finding his voice as he positioned himself on all fours, knees digging into the mattress slightly spread and hands pressed into the head of the mattress. Sweat beaded his flushed, tanned flesh and he was sure Kellan could hear the rapid pounding of his heart in his chest as he cocked his head towards his son. "....This is easier for gay sex right?" He asked like he wasn't a forty year old man who had logically lived much longer than Kellan and should have had a little more knowledge of this world. Alas he had been too scared, too ashamed, to even watch gay porn or anything of the like. Just heard things here and there, but he wasn't sure if those facts were accurate or not. His cock was still raging on despite his uncertainty and he groaned as he reached down to give himself a light stroke, just to ease the pain from how turned on he was.

 

[Verse]

It was a strange reward to see your father like this. On his knees and looking at your cock like it was inevitable. Wesley's breath hit his son's hard flesh when he confessed to exactly what he'd become. He could never get the man to admit anything, growing up; a stoic kind of figure, perched higher than the rest, trying to set examples by being, and doing. It was admirable, but that had lost him mom, hadn't it? And it seemed it hadn't affected Wesley's real interests all that much. Not since he ended up like this. Kellan admired the shapes of his father, and the lines he cut against the floor and how well paired he looked in front of his cock. Speaking into it like a microphone. The desire must be killing the older man, to have gone so far. Just the gravitational pull of the hulking rod was too much for the older mouth. Kellan was being ruined, getting everything he wanted from the world. His youth kept him beautiful, and his darkness made up for all the rest - aggression soaked in testosterone. It would drown out any adversary and obstacle, and in the tail-coats of it, he had seduced his father without directly meaning to. Maybe he should pity the struggling dad - he had never stood a chance, with the endless parades of men coming to get their minds drowned in pleasure chemicals from having their holes overwhelmed by the same object Wesley now faced.

When dad went about it, Kell loved every second of it. He had seen the man hesitate from the traces left there, but that made it worth more when he still licked it up, and sucked it off. That was his father's mouth boiling around the head of the cock, and his father's whimpers vibrating the thick shaft. Kellan admired the entire scene below him. His design, if he would have known he was doing it. He stroked his father's hair, encouraging him. Now it was his turn to finish up the food served up to him. The insults stuck to Wesley, like he was a sponge for them. Poor man, who thought he wanted to be in charge, all his life, all this wretched pretend he'd done just to find out he wanted it all taken away. As a good son, Kellan would make sure his dad got what he wanted. Extending his neck slightly to the side, Kellan could see Wes's dick drool miserably, just from getting to taste another man from his son's penis.

He had to guide the grown man, and he did. God did dad's face look just right covered mostly in cock. More than that, it was the expression, sandwiched between his son's hands. A longing and an upheaval, like this was religious or something. To some, the discovery of their sexuality was a delight, but nothing more. To Wesley Mason it was monumental, because it was engrained in everything he'd ever done, realizing it was opposite to who he was on the inside. He was learning himself on his son's cock. And Kellan got to see the change in his fathers eyes as he let the older tongue become a bed and branding stone for the massive meat. It was so new to make dad obey, and he was so good at it. "Not bad, dad." he said. "You fucking sick bitch." he added with derision. It was what the older man deserved, after all. He was supposed to be the adult. Kellan was sure this was messing him up in some way. A son should never have this power over his father. Even though Kellan was calling the shots, he should never be put in the position too. All because Wesley couldn't control his own urges, having let them build up.

The haze in Wes's eyes was beautiful, like he was a bit of an unwitting victim, with all kinds of slime on his face from having been brainwashed by the hormones filling up his head from the mere proximity to his son's cock. It was like an animal in front of a loaded barrel, dumb and helpless. Now this was a certainly a pretty picture. He groaned himself when he started making him suck his cock. The intense slick pressure from the tongue showed willingness, even if dad's maidenly noises and expression suggested he was being forced. But they'd thoroughly established that Wesley Mason wanted to be made to do things. He took the beating well too, affected by the moment. Dad's entire head was smelling like his dear son's precum. The tongue had not been invited, but it still stood out to swipe at the whipping cock as it passed. Incorrigible.

Kell was delighted to lead the man by his aching, crushed testicles and even though Wes emitted suffering sounds, his cock never waned between his crawling thighs. It made Kell feel powerful to have such full physical control, and for his father never to fight it. Up on the bed, his dad looked so small, and the son drooled more pre-seed when the simpering parent offered himself up like that. He got behind Wesley on his knees, looking at his father's shithole. He saw the man's hand touching the smaller cock. He slapped Wesley on the back of his head. "Who told you to do that?" he said. And then grabbed his father's hips and pulled as his asscheeks with his thumbs to parts them. He was now looking directly as his father's pucker. "Head down, Wesley Mason." he said, so the hole would be angled upward. He did the man the favor of adding an extra glob of spit onto the waiting decimal. "You're such a worthless parent." he muttered to add to it all. A thumb let go so it could move up and massage the foam into the anxious little pin-prick at the center of all the wrinkles. It looked absolutely perfect for stretching until all those folds were gone. "You haven't even had a finger in there, have you?" he asked like it made Wes pathetic, as the thumb negotiated its tip inside, and slid in the rest of the way. He bet his father had just the right kind of attitude at the end of his digestive system that lent itself well to being assfucked.

Soon, after Wesley had gotten to feel the in-and-out motion for a minute, Kellan popped the thumb out. He grabbed his own, saliva drenched cock by its base and leaned forward over his father, his shadow covering the older man. His free hand rested on the side of Wes's scalp, so Kell could still see his expression as he burried the other side of Wes's face into the pillow. He looked so submissive, so expendable. Kell's thumb stroked dad's temple. The fat head of the rod dad had come here for mashed against the virgin hole, starting to convince it bigger. Kell's heartrate was steady. He knew that he couldn't stop, would have to push on to ever expand it. It was always hard at first, but some certainly had the gift while others had to work up toward it. His dad was so aroused he was getting brain damage, so no one had better chances of becoming an absolute anal sex addict. When the small edges finally twitched from being forced to suck the cock in, to the other side of the mushroom head, it'd be a smoother way in. Kell would go until half his length was sheathed into his father's shithole.

He corrected his posture, straighter, to look down at the devastating junction between them. He was inside his own dad. "You're such a fucking disgrace." He said as he started pulling out, a bit like this was over because of his disgust. But when the edges of the purple head almost tore the anus from the inside, he pushed forward again, starting to build a slow pace. He angled himself so the bulb at the end of his cock would ride the prostate hill inside Wesley's tunnel. "Aren't you suppose to be the adult here?" he continued as he fucked his father faster.

 

[oropherion]

This room and this bed hadn't been meant for such activities between father and son yet the Mason elder was climbing onto the mattress like a dog waiting for its bone. The metaphor didn't go over his head either as he thought it, shame burning his skin but he was thinking with his cock head not his brain and so he positioned himself on all fours, feeling incredibly awkward and exposed. It made him wonder if this was what Kell's mother had felt whenever he had managed to convince her to try any other position than missionary. Except he felt worse because he was supposed to be the patriarch of the family, the one in charge leading the pack and not showing weakness or submission to anyone, yet here he was giving all that power to his own son. It was a humbling experience when the dynamic was switched, not to speak of the humiliation that came with it. Even so, the strong throbbing between his legs told him he was too far gone to care too much about how wrong this was and even more so when his hand sought his own cock to relieve some of that pent up pressure. Which seemed to piss his son off as he suddenly felt a hard whack across the back of his head and the sharp disapproving words that came with it. "Shit," he cussed out in surprise, wincing as he immediately obeyed and clutched both hands to the sheets beneath him. Somehow the quick correction had made his cock jump rather deflate in interest which he hated to think what that made his son think of him in turn. That his father got off on his own son punishing for acting against orders.

Then came the feeling of his cheeks being spread open and to be exposed so made him tense up, made his hips try to jerk away but his son's grip was too firm. The instructions with his proper name almost left a sting across his flesh, but he obeyed. He had come here for a reason and had made the final decision to stay so swallowing the lump in his throat, Wesley lowered his torso, resting more on his elbows with his face buried against his arm as he felt the posture raise his ass up more for his son's viewing pleasure. His heart was doing gallops in his chest as anxiety, nerves, and uncertainty welled up. His body flinched as a glob of spit splattered onto his puckered rim, making him huff at the rather obscene act. "N-no," he admitted and why did he feel like that was a sin? Like he was a loser because he hadn't explored his body? It wasn't like anal had been much in his cards when it came to being with his wife. Anal with her had always been off the table, no matter how he tried to bribe her or convince her. He had always been too ashamed, or scared to even think of it, as if he feared his father would find out and break his fingers and beat the tar out of him.

The pressure of Kellan's thumb against the small entry hole into his body made him tense up more than he liked. The touch was so foreign and his body immediately, instinctively, wanted to reject it as it pressed past its initial barrier. A sharp, hot breathe was roughly punched out of the elder Mason as he felt the fat digit sink in to the first knuckle. It wasn't as painful as he had been expecting, but he also knew a thumb was a much different animal in comparison to the monster swinging between his son's legs. He tried to force himself to relax and to not panic as the digit slid in and out, stroking his inner walls until it was fully inserted. It was a precursor to the real event and it was already enough to leave Wesley slightly shaken and feeling anticipatory fear. That same feeling increased when the thumb was removed just as he was adjusting to the motion and felt the intense presence of his son leaning over him. The shadow that consumed him made him swallow before he grunted out as his head was shoved down into the pillow, one eye visible and able to stare up at his son to watch the sick and almost twisted joy he got from dominating him like this while the bulbous head of his cock kissed his asshole.

The thumb stroking over his forehead would have almost been comforting had he not become immediately overwhelmed by the pressure trying to break into his virginal hole. His eyes widened at the way the cock forced him open, forced his unseasoned channel to spread open, ignoring the muscles trying to push him back and out. He was right. This was much worse than the thumb that had quested his intestines. "Oh, fuck fuck...." He cursed into the pillow, sweat breaking out on his forehead as his eyes squeezed shut. Kellan was going rather slow and steady, something the older man could appreciate while his ass felt like it was burning while it tried to accommodate something that felt too big for it to handle. Yet somehow his body was, even while it shook as Kell managed to get his cock halfway in. It was still enough to feel like all of his air had been punched out of his lungs, like he had been stabbed and couldn't get away from it. His muscles spasmed and clamped around his son's cock, seemingly having given up on trying to push him out. Wesley was panting with the effort of staying in his position, even when his hips felt like they were aching from being propped up so, and not fight his son off. He knew it would be painful and his son wasn't even fully inserted. The thought enough to make him break out into a cold sweat again.

"Holy shit." Curse words and grunts seemed to be the only vocabulary his tongue could remember at this point. When Kellan shifted and began to pull out, Wesley hissed and clutched the sheets in an even tighter grip, bracing himself when he pushed back in. Somehow he managed to get deeper with each pull and push, but he felt like his asshole was being pulled out with each motion. Like he'd prolapse any minute. A choked mix of a moan and a sob escaped his lips as Kellan belittled him. "Welcome to the club, right?" He muttered with a weak, wry laugh that was muffled by the pillow. A sudden wave of pleasure crashed over him suddenly and unexpectedly as Kellan's cock brushed along his prostate, making him spurt a glob of pre-cum to the sheets beneath him and make his balls draw up tight. Fuck, that felt incredible! It was almost enough to overwrite the pain that crept up his aging spine as he felt his hips jolt at the sensation. It was like his ass had a mind of its own, chasing that delicious feeling again while his mind was still trying to overcome the feeling of his anal virginity being taken. The increased pace was wringing louder noises from him, body rocking into the mattress as he huffed and drooled into his son's pillow.

"Thought...thought you'd be happy to put your old man in his place." Wes grunted out, cheeks inflamed from arousal and humility at his own words. It was twisted to believe this was almost righteous of him to give Kellan this sort of power. The ability to punish him for any transgressions he felt he was owed for. He hated that he had failed as a father in many ways, especially because of his own shortcomings and denials, but he was just doing his best. If this mended some of the fences, he supposed the pain in his guts and relinquishing of power was worth it.

 

[Verse]

What a pretty pose his father struck. A lot of the media the younger male consumed started a lot like this. Instinctively, Wesley had offered up his ass without much protest, and thought it had been okay to pleasure himself while he waited. It was. If this had just been a fling, Kellan would not have minded - they were just bodies borrowing friction, right? But this was not that. This was the initiation of his father into Kellan's world. And the older man needed to know his place in it. Kellan would have forced a submissive role onto his father, but it had come naturally, since Wes had come here himself, begging. And so the reprimand landed as it should. For a boy to strike his dad, it was another sin, piling on, but Wesley took to it so well, quickly responding with removing his hand from the clearly delighted, jumping cock. Kellan smiled to himself as his father's hole was presented better, and the man who'd spanked him as a child was now nothing more than nerves and all the blood in his own eager cock. He took some time to admire what he'd reduced the once fiercely proud adult into.

When dad bowed his head, the hole winked up at the boy. Kellan felt more powerful now than he had with the other burly victims of his cock that he'd been collecting. To think Wesley Mason could follow orders to well, when he was used to barking them at other people. Kellan knew this was a gift that his father was presenting him with, begging for his son to open and use it. The youngster gasped to know this was the taking of many virginities from his father. What an honor. So all the delights of being with a man would belong to Kellan, even the ones that Wes technically could have provided himself. It was good to know he could tear such truths from his father's lips, when the man had prided himself in keeping things from his child before. Now the one with the largest cock got to know everything. It seemed being turned on and manhandled was dad's truth serum. It wasn't the first time Kellan had seen this effect. When could you be more honest, than with the person about to stick his body into yours? "We're going to take care of that, aren't we, Wes?" he asked darkly, and like dad was slow in the head. It was delicious mocking his former hero.

The hole preformed well, and was eager to confirm with its tightness and novice squeezing that Wesley had been truthful. It didn't help him though. The thumb eventually invaded the sucking decimal and his father's breathing was very erotic. Like the last of his manliness was going out of him. But it was the way that one eye looked back at Kellan that made the son feel the most in charge. Like he was looking at someone as they were peering back, running. Yes, he felt as though he was hunting his father, to take this from him. Made the boy grin and stroke his father's cheek with his thumb as he started to give Wes's anus the introduction of its up until now boring life. This was wrong. But it felt better than with the others, because he knew he was deflowering the man who'd made him. Wesley should be happy he was becoming a bitch to such a seasoned fucker. He had chosen right when he'd come here to plead with his son to fuck him. This was Kellan's father's asshole spreading on his cock.

Despite the pushing spasms, Kellan persisted, as he knew he should. His dad had all kinds of signs of panic, but he stayed, because he wanted this, and frankly, he'd put himself in a position where he couldn't easily escape. The son was soon moving in and out of his father, with unforgiving, insestuous care. The hand not on his father's head started stroking the sweat on Wesley's back. Kell could smell it - his father's aroma, both from the perspiration and his devirginized ass. For someone just recently trying even a finger in his shithole, Wes was doing monumentally. Especially with the mammoth dick as his first. He would have ruined his father for other men. He chuckled at his father's joke. This was as earnest as the man had ever been. And then Wes gave away exactly how he felt about having his prostate tended to, staning the sheets further. Good to know that part of dad was sensitive and pivotal. Kellan knew exactly how to control the man now. He slapped his father's buttcheek. "I've always wanted to see you like this, because I never thought it'd happen." he said and squeezed that reddening cheek. Now every move, whether in or out, was traveling over and rubbing the prostate hill.

He reached to snap up his father's wrists, and pull them back like reins, lifting his torso and thrusting out his chest. With these new handles it was easy to move his hips and fuck his father up the ass, ever faster, since it seemed Wes could take it. "How does it feel, then? All that raising you did, all the times you told me to respect my elders - where's all that shit gone now?" he asked and thrust harder to make a point. His balls now collided into his dad's at every push. Like this, he could finally find the semblance of the pace he liked, deep in his father's stomach. Every now and then Kell would spit down, on his own cock, to have the saliva mingle with the natural lubricants already in Wesley's tunnel. Looking down, it felt amazing to know that was his father's stretched sphincter he was fucking. "Is this what you wanted, dad? You wanted to be my gay little bitch because you were jealous of all my other bitches?" he asked and pumped harder into the newly initiated asshole. Damn, it seemed like his dad had some talent, after all. Taking it this well on his first turn meant he'd be an unbridled whore. Kellan was a bit proud of him.

He build the pace and continued to relentlessly persecute his father's prostate. With enough pleasure from that part, the whole thing would eventually start feeling good for Wesley, not just his prostate. "Well, is it all you hoped for?" he asked and then pulled his dad's wrists further back, lifting his arching chest more. He got closer down to his father's ear and said, breathing in sync with the thrusts. "Or do you want me to stop?" And with that, he let go, letting his father plummet back into the mattress. Kellan put his hands on his own hips and waited, cock still lodged deep in the now inflamed and sensitive anus, still suckling the fat objected stretching it. He looked down at the low man with all the hubris of youth, and having the biggest cock he'd heard of. "Because I can stop if you want, we can return to how we were, and never mention this again." the cock twitched inside him, as though to mock Wes further, pushing him to move himself. He knew he'd whipped up his father thoroughly, but he wanted to know exactly how that looked. He wanted to teach his dad about carnal desperation. He wanted his dad to build his entire world around his son's cock, eventually.