Daddy Issues

Oliver followed Axel up the porch steps, his paws damp from the mist in the air. The old wooden door stood open, warm light spilling out. Axel’s tail wagged in a slow arc, a sign he was nervous and excited at once.

“Relax” Axel said as he pressed the door wider. “He’ll like you.”

Oliver brushed a hand over his spotted chest fur. “I know. I just… want this to go well.”

Inside, Weston waited with a glass in hand. The older dobermann leaned against the counter, tall and broad, his frame filling the kitchen doorway. His ears perked as the lynx stepped in.

“So this is the man my son can’t stop thinking about,” Weston said, voice deep. “Oliver, right? Come here. Let me look at you.”

Oliver felt heat crawl up his neck. Weston’s gaze traveled slowly ove rhim , taking in the lynx’s shoulders, his hips, the faint sway of his tail. Axel kissed Oliver’s cheek, proud and relaxed now that they were inside.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Axel said.

Weston chuckled. “He is. Didn’t expect a lynx, but I can see the appeal.”

Oliver swallowed. “Thank you. Your home is beautiful.”

“It gets better when I have company” Weston said. He stepped closer. His scent-strong, warm, male-wrapped around Oliver like a hand on his back.

Dinner didn’t stay dinner for long. They ate, they talked, they drank. Weston asked questions no father should ask. Oliver answered them, caught in the older dog’s gravity. Axel watched, amused, tail thumping the chair leg like he approved of every hungry glance Weston gave.

“You two look good together” Weston said. “But I can tell something else.” He shifted his weight, his eyes moving between them. “Oliver, you look at me like you’re trying not to make a mistake.”

Oliver’s breath hitched. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” Weston said. “And Axel’s looking at you like he wants to see what you’ll do next.”

Axel grinned. “He’s bold when he wants to be.”

Weston stepped up behind Oliver. The lynx felt the heat of the dog’s chest against his back. The dobermann’s breath touched his ear.

“Show me” Weston murmured. “I don’t mind bold.”

Axel placed a hand on Oliver’s thigh under the table. Oliver’s pulse kicked, sharp and heavy. Weston’s hand closed over the lynx’s shoulder. The room felt too warm. The air thickened with musk and want.

“Take this off” Axel said. He tugged at Oliver’s shirt.

Oliver did. Weston followed. Axel shed his jacket. Buttons popped. Cloth fell. They moved with one mind, one hunger, a shared rhythm that didn’t need words.

Weston cupped Oliver’s waist, his palm rough and hot. Axel kissed his jaw. Three bodies leaned in, fur brushing fur, scents mixing: lynx musk, dobermann spice, heat, breath, want.

Oliver felt hands on his hips. A tongue grazed his neck. A hard shape pressed against his thigh. Another brushed his backside. His legs trembled.

Axel whispered, “Dad, look at him. He’s ready.”

Weston growled, low and pleased. “Then let’s-”

Oliver froze, breath trapped in his chest.

Bare fur. Hard bodies. Three cocks between them, heavy and swollen, each one leaking over the other. Weston’s chest pressed to his back, Axel’s breath against his lips, hands everywhere, mapping him, claiming him.

Weston nudged his muzzle to Oliver’s ear.

“Good” he said. “Now… let’s begin.”

And before any of them understood who reached first, who pulled whom closer-

the three of them tipped together into the dark warmth of the bedroom doorway.

The moment broke open, raw and hungry;

and the rest came down on them at once.

To be continued…