If He Wasn't My Son...

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Lusting for My Dominant Son

It was just one of those things, something that I knew was wrong and still couldn't stop myself from chasing, hunkering down low to the ground like a truly feral lion stalking their prey. Only, we were anthro lions and should have been far, far more in control of ourselves and our emotions than our feral cousins, despite the traits we shared.

I got up in the morning, brushed and trimmed my mane, donned my suit. Everyone at work called me Mr Jones and I was one step under the CEO, waiting to take his place when he retired, which was in the cards for the next year. A lion like me... Well, he should never have been down on his knees, not in any way. I should always have been powerful, the one in control, one that others could look up to. I was always to be smart and proper at all times, my suit tailored, expensive.

Not a hair was out of place in my mane or on my body. It was as it was meant to be, my eyes blue, sharp, cold, icy. Oh, that was cliché... But high up in finance it was not as if anyone was worrying about cliches. They only cared about the money and, considering that, I agreed with them.

Money gave the semblance of power. It was never true power. That was why, for me, it was not difficult at all to give it up before the only one with who I trusted it with.

"You look like such a slut down there, dad..."

I trembled and blushed, my head and neck too hot under the thick coat of my mane. Damn it. Why did he always know how to make my stomach squirm and twist as if it was bucking and contorting, grinding out of my body? My cock hardened, yet all I could do was mewl plaintively and look up at my hot stud of a son, a more dominant lion than I, despite his smaller mane.

Simon grinned down at me, unabashed in his dominance, the hardness of his cock between my lips while my member could only tent out the front of my boxer briefs. I knew that I was not destined to get any pleasure, not like that, for myself that evening, but that was not the point of us coming together.

Of course, I had a wife and he a mother. She was away, a lot, for work. That was when we played, Simon stepping boldly into his rightful role as the head of the household, lounging in our family apartment while I...well...did his bidding. Anything that Simon wanted was his to take, whether it was massaging his hind paws, cleaning him in the shower, or sucking his dick. Simon knew what he wanted and there was no reason that he was not to get exactly what he wanted and then some.

Fuck, Simon was hot... So fucking hot. And I liked saying "fuck" too. It was crude and it was crass and it made me feel dirtier still as I sucked down his cock into the back of my throat. It was as thick as mine, though I would always think of him as bigger and more powerful than me. There was no other way for it.

"Such a slut... You should take it all... That's the best place for your maw to be, after all."

He panted, moaning with an open mouth above me. I loved that look. I loved seeing the sharp flash of his fangs in my bedroom, though it no longer at all felt like my bedroom when I was there with him. I handed over all ownership of myself and all that I owned to my son, his dominant paws entrusted to care for it.

My cock tented out my underwear, need rising, a snarl in the back of my throat, wanting to whimper, even though it would be terribly muffled around his cock. That was not the point of it, not at all, not as I suckled around him, playing with my lips and my tongue, caressing the length of his cock tenderly. As rough as he was with me, I could still be gentle with him, lust getting the better of me, nothing more than a submissive slut down on my knees before my son.

Did he even know how fucking hot it was when he curled his fingers into my mane like that, wrenching my head back, exposing the bare expanse of my throat. My teeth closed over my teeth, protecting his shaft from the sharp points of them, the roughness of my tongue caressing the underside of his cock. It might have been too harsh when it came to any other species of anthro, but for a feline type, well...we'd always thought that the sensation was one of the most perfect.

I didn't know. Maybe that was just me being a slut. Maybe I just needed to moan around him, take all of that cock like a good little slut-kitty. My son was not very vocal when it came to sex, though I loved the humiliation of his words when they did come out, feeling less than what I was, small and insignificant.

He grunted, thrusting powerfully into my maw, holding my head there. The bedroom around me might have been familiar to me, but there was still something foreign about it, something that rendered it very much "not mine".

"Fuck... Harder..."

Simon chuffed through his mouth, tongue fluttering, yet the hammering force of his hips slamming into the back of my mouth forced me to take it all. I didn't even hack or gag around his length, not in the moment, need overwhelming me. I needed it too badly, groaning around his cock, trying to savour every moment even as I took it as deep as possible.

My nose crushed up to his crotch and I shook under the power of his thrusts, loving every second, passion coursing through. Thrust after thrust brought my son closer and closer to orgasm and I was there to take it all, the brunt of his thrusts overpowering, claws pricking into my skin even through my mane. My ears quirked back and forth lightly, but I doubted that Simon even noticed, his tail lashing the air.

He was a hunter and I was his prey, nothing and everything to him, all at once. I moaned around his hot fuck stick, but I didn't even need to for those light vibrations to travel into his cock, his hammering, driving thrusts putting me in my place.

He roared, lips peeling back from his teeth, showing what the might and the power of a lion truly was, unleashing his lust in my maw. I was there to feel everything intimately, even the soft barbs remaining on his cock, which had evolved to not have the sharp spines on them anymore, leaving a remainder of what had once been for our species. It was better that way, allowing my son to fuck me all the harder, rougher, my tongue pressed down between my teeth as he took me fervently and furiously.

The throb of his cock on top of my tongue ached, cum spurting, though I hardly got a chance to enjoy his thick, lightly salty musk. It was more the texture of his cum that caught me than the taste of it, my tongue flicking up weakly; it was not for me to be powerful. I could be weak, a fuck-kitty, my son's slut, as illicit and as taboo as our relationship was. My tail lowered softly, not needing to be raised even through the hole in the back of my underwear.

End preview.

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