Infatuated with His Father

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Stud Stallions Sweating it Up

Tristin huffed and grunted thickly in the back of his throat, on his back and his chest bare, the gym late and empty around him, but for his father. The stallion anthros preferred the late-night sessions when it had emptied of the furs who went after work, especially his father, Quinn. Quinn had never been one to want to be around others in public, most certainly so when his eye was so very apt to wander.

Quinn's nostrils flared, the black stallion leaning over slightly, helping his son to raise the barbell from a bench press, the younger equine's arms trembling, black hide glistening with sweat.

"Come on! Get it up, get it up!"

Tristin growled, jaw clenched, forcing himself through the last part of the lift, though he didn't know how much weight was on the bar. It went up though with minimal support from his spotter, his father snorting heavily and slapping the rack, juddering and shaking it even as Tristin slammed it back onto the hooks.

"That's it! That's a new PR!"

Tristin laughed shortly, brushing his dark forelock back from his face, sweat soaking through his shirt, itching to remove it. Taking the offered shaker of water and workout mix (his father liked to change what they supplemented with depending on their weight load, which was fine by him), he chugged it lethargically, his energy fading at the tail end of his workout. The long hairs of his tail hung over the side of the bench as Quinn racked up the weight on the bar for his final set.

A thicker-set stallion, Quinn could still out lift his son who had only been into the weight lifting scene for a few months, though the two of them were very much a sight to see in the gym. The older stallion's eyes raked over his son's slimmer body, less fat on him than the fatherly stomach that Quinn boasted, though that was a strong look in itself for a stud of his age. The two of them bragged shiny black coats in turn, gleaming with good health, but their manes were kept as short as possible, a few inches of neatly trimmed hair spilling down their necks, even talking about having it hogged and buzzed off entirely when it got in the way.

"I wasn't even really touching the bar, you know," Quinn laughed through a snort, eyes dancing with wicked glee. "You think I'm helping you, but that's all you. Good set!"

Tristin smiled. His father was not so often usually a stallion of many words and it was good to see him talk, especially after he'd moved out after university. He was just starting in the world of office work and he was not entirely sure how else he could have gotten through the absolute grind and drudgery of office work without somewhere to blow off some steam at the end of the day. Long hours and little money did not make for an easy life but he'd always been close to his father at least.

Perhaps more so than most...

His father's eyes crinkled lightly at the corners and Tristin tried not to let the heat rise to his neck and the insides of his ears. He knew when he was being watched, peeling off his sweat-soaked shirt, muscles revealed, though he could not have said that he was not proud of them. He'd worked hard for his body and had spent many a night under or on top of his father, however his single dad pleased, sucking his cock and taking that delectable dick up his arse, stretching him deeply.

"Hey, Quinn."

The gym-owner poked their head around the corner, jingling the keys. Tristin tried not to look like he had jumped too much, need caught in his throat and something that he did not want to admit to thickening in his gym shorts.

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Fuck...

But the gym-owner, a bull with an easy-going nature and shoulders so broad he looked as if he had trouble fitting through doors sometimes, only smiled and held up the keys again. They hadn't missed them the first time and, in fact, had been just what Tristin and Quinn had been waiting for.

Something tightened inside Tristin, wanting to push his thighs together, though the pressure would have been too much on more delicate parts of his anatomy.

"Just locking up the staff area for the night, enjoy the place to yourself!"

They waved him off, thanking their lucky stars that the gym was open all around the clock, which was a blessing for them. They could have worked out for longer, taking their time together, resting between sets, shooting the breeze, but there were other things to be taken on, Quinn rumbling out a snort as he turned to face his son, the gym door clicking closed behind the bull owner.

"That'll be the cameras off too..."

Tristin gulped, glutes tensing, though they still ached from his last leg day. He had a hunch that he was going to ache even more by the end of the night though.

"Yeah..." He licked his lips, trying not to look too eager but failing to hide an excited whicker. "Yeah, that'll be...it..."

His father smirked, taking charge as he always did, stepping in close with his gym joggers already slipping down over his hips, revealing a bare shaft, hard and throbbing even as it pushed from its sheath. He'd never been one to hide his need and his son got to see that first-hoof, grunting and licking his lips even as a roll of Quinn's hips had that shaft grinding and questing up against his muzzle. Without thinking, Tristin dropped to his knees, pushing his shorts down enough for the elastic waistline to tuck behind his balls, exposing the growing rod of his cock too in that moment.

"Come on..." Quinn chuckled throatily, desire clouding his throat, tightening there. "You don't need to hold off when you want it, my cock-sucking son."

Tristin shuddered. Oh, that should have been humiliating and cheesy at best but his father knew just how those words hit all the right notes for him. It was too much for him to resist and he whinnied softly, nostrils fluttering, even as his lips parted over that musky cock-tip. Flatter than that of most other anthros, he took it deep into his mouth, letting it swell there to its full, thick length, his long muzzle perfectly suited for sucking cock, especially when it was a dick that belonged to his father.

"Yeah... Mmmph, nothing like a good blow after working out, hey? Hah... Not that you'd know that..."

That Tristin was more submissively inclined was no secret between them as he took his father's cock deep, Quinn aware of how his words were rolling over his son, that submissive glint flickering in his son's closing eyes. It was easy to overpower him, his son's hard cock bearing testament to his enjoyment of every last second of it all too, throbbing and aching, drooling a thin stream of pre-cum even then. His own shaft shoved into his son's throat, clenching and flexing around him before he was allowed deeper, smirking lightly as the musk of their heady liaison rose around them.

"Yes... How'd I get so lucky to get a slutty cock of a son like you?"

End preview.

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