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  • Source:
ID
127724
MD5
17c8dcd7ddce49fd2bc55409caa3c41c
Size
1400x2240 (1.17 MB)
Type
JPG
Status
Active
Rating
Explicit
Score
36
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directed by zenithwolf
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Content warning: story contains incestuous fantasies

Kiss Daddy Goodnight


The snow crunched under my boots as I trudged up the driveway, breath fogging in the December air. Dad's familiar pickup sat parked beside the porch, cloaked in a layer of white sparkles. Half a century old and still running—just like him. My chest tightened when he swung the front door open before I could knock, that deep laugh rumbling through me. “Took you long enough, kiddo.”

He pulled me into a bear hug, the scent of pine needles and woodsmoke emanated from his fur. My face pressed against his flannel shirt, rough fabric scratching my cheek while his solid warmth seeped into my bones. I used to fit perfectly under his chin; now we stood eye-to-eye. My arms locked around his waist, fingers digging into the thick flannel at his back. Too long. Too firm. I slowly pulled away before he could feel how my pulse hammered against my ribs or the peculiar ‘hardness’ between my legs. His eyes crinkled at the corners, warm and oblivious. “Let's get you warmed up.”

The flickering flames were dancing in the fireplace as I slumped onto dad’s worn leather couch. Winter break meant escaping college life, trading fluorescent lights for the amber glow of his living room. He handed me a steaming mug of cocoa, his fingers briefly brushed mine—a fleeting touch that sent sparks up my spine. “How are things back in college, pup?” he asked, his voice gravelly from years of serving the army. “Pretty good, actually,” I replied and nodded, staring into my mug to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. The cocoa was hot and bitter-sweet, but a welcoming warmth filled my tummy.

I watched my dad over the rim of my mug as he settled into his armchair. Firelight caught the silver highlights in his hair and the contours of his powerful forearms. GODS. Those forearms could make stirring cocoa look like art.

He started telling a story about fixing something for Mrs. Henderson during a storm, but my gaze lingered on the way his biceps flexed as he lifted his own mug—a subtle strength earned from decades of military service and splitting firewood. A familiar ache bloomed low in my belly, sharp and sweet. I remember being six, clinging to his back as he gave me piggyback rides to school or carried me to bed, feeling invincible against his shoulders. Now, the urge to trace the veins mapping every inch of his arms felt terrifyingly adult.

He paused mid-sentence, catching me staring. My throat went dry. “You okay, son?” he asked, leaning forward with that familiar crease between his brows. The concern in his voice felt genuine and caring. I mumbled something about the long and exhausting journey, dropping my gaze to the frayed edge of the Persian rug.

My pulse thudded in my ears, louder than the wind rattling the old windowpanes. Every nerve screamed to close the distance between us, to bury my face against his chest and breathe his scent as he caresses my body with those powerful hands.

…But I remained seated.

If only dad knew how much I love him.

~~~

Dusk fell quick over the woods in these winter months. I rolled over in my childhood bed, sheets tangling around my legs. Moonlight sliced through the blinds, painting stripes across the blanket. The fabric smelled faintly of detergent and something deeper, muskier—Dad’s laundry soap. My boxers felt tight, uncomfortable. I shoved a hand down, adjusting myself, and instantly felt the stiff rod trapped inside.

Stupid! So fucking stupid! Puperty ruined my innocent mind and made everything related to dad feel like an invitation to forbidden desires. He’d ruffled my hair just a moment ago like I was still a kid—his palm scraping my scalp—and I’d gotten a hard-on right there on the couch as well. I hope he didn’t notice.

I squeezed my eyes shut and sleep came like a thief.

Footsteps padded down the hallway—slow and heavy. I ignored the reverb until a heavy weight pressed down on me from above. I opened my eyes and couldn’t believe the sight before me.

Dad was straddling me, completely naked! A finely matured body gleaming in the moonlight, the thick cords of muscle in his forearms flexing as he loomed over me and pinned my wrists above my head. His breath was hot against my ear. “Always watching your old man, aren't you, pup?” he murmured, voice low and rough. The scent of his fur—wood and pine—filled my nose, so manly and intoxicating. His massive cock stood fully unsheathed, shamelessly exposed in the cool dark air.

My hips bucked involuntarily against his weight, seeking friction. He shifted along with my motion, grinding his bare hips against my erection through the thin fabric of my boxers. He let out a chuckle—a dark, knowing sound that vibrated through my chest. “You want this.” It wasn't a question. One hand slid down to grip my jaw, thumb pressing against my bottom lip, while the other went to his manhood, aiming it for my mouth. “Be a good boy and kiss daddy goodnight.” The command was soft but absolute. I obeyed, trembling.

My lips inched closer to the tip of my dad’s cock before giving it a gentle peck. The taste of his salty precum filled my mouth as he slowly pushed further inside, forcing my mouth to open up. The heat of him was overwhelming, the weight heavy and real on my tongue—

~~~

I jerked awake, screaming and panting, sheets soaked with sweat. My heart hammered against my ribs like a bird trapped in a cage. Moonlight still striped the blanket, but the room was empty. Disoriented, I fumbled for the lamp. The slightest movement made me notice a warm, sticky sensation under my boxers... and it wasn’t a small load.

“Not again!” I sighed.

While searching for some tissues in my bedside drawer, the sound of approaching footsteps were coming from the hallway. Shit! I lifted the sheet back up and gathered my bearings before the door creaked open.

Dad stood in the doorway, wearing only flannel pajama pants slung low on his hips. The dim light caught the powerful slope of his shoulders and the dusting of silver hair across his chest, trailing down into the waistband. “You alright, kiddo? Heard a loud yelp.” His voice was thick with sleep, rough and warm. That same woodsy scent began to flood the room, mixing with the musky aroma of my bed. My traitorous cock throbbed, painfully hard beneath the damp sheets.

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah. Just… had a bad dream.” My voice cracked. My heart is still pounding against my ribs. The dream’s heat still clung to my skin, the phantom weight of him on my tongue, the command in his gravelly whisper. *Kiss daddy goodnight*.

Dad took a few steps into my room. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. The change in his pose pulled the pajama pants lower, revealing the sharp V of his hips and thicker patches of white fur trailing in the middle. His gaze lingered on the tangled sheets, my flushed face, the way I clutched the blanket over my lap. “Must’ve been some dream.” His tone was casual, but his nostrils flared subtly, scenting the air—the sharp tang of my sweat, the unmistakable whiff of release. Every detail was a dead giveaway.

He knows!

His eyes, gold in the low light, were locked on me. The silence stretched, thick with everything unsaid.

After what felt like the longest seconds of my life, he pushed off the frame and walked toward the bed. Each step was deliberate, unhurried. The mattress dipped under his weight as he sat on the edge, inches from my hip. His thigh pressed against mine. Heat radiated off him, his woods-and-pine aroma intensifying, mixing with my own nervous sweat. His hand reached out, brushing a stray lock of damp fur from my temple. The contact was brief, electric. My breath hitched.

“Is there something you want to tell me, pup?”

—————————

Generated with a random anime AI model
Post-edited for visual enhancements
Story written by me

Blacklisted
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