Daddy's Ass
It was 1:00 AM and Tio only wanted two things in the world: Sleep, and his dad's ass. Not in that order.
He was on his knees, very quietly touching himself as he looked at the sleeping blue dragon on the bed. His dad's back was facing him. Tio's face was inches--inches--away from his goal.
It may as well have been in another dimension. He didn't dare touch his father's butt, or move his highly obstructive tail to a more convenient position, out of fear of waking him. He moved his face in close, as close to the underwear-covered section as he could comfortably manage, always aware of his father's tail and heavy breathing. If the older dragon so much as sniffed in his sleep, Tio would duck away and wait a few minutes before moving in again.
When his head was in range, he puckered his lips and kissed one of the buttcheeks in his face so lightly that he wasn't sure if he was applying enough pressure to kiss the ass under the tight cotton underwear. His cock jerked in his hand upon contact.
He tried to move his face closer to his daddy's crack without bumping the large tail. He had moved the tail with success in the past, but there have been just as many times when his father jerked awake and felt for whatever was touching him in the dark. He would duck away the split-second before his father's hands would discover him and crawl out of the open bedroom door, his heart screaming "URGENT" in his chest. As far as he knew, he had never been officially caught--dad never brought it up, anyway.
On those successful nights he would gently put his hands under the wide base of the tail and push up, just enough to fit his snout under; not an inch more. Then he would withdraw his hands and slowly move his head in until his nose touched the underwear just above his dad's asscrack, inhaling the stink through the underwear, resisting everything in his body begging him to just rip off the garment and bury his head in the beautiful, forbidden ass.
Tonight he couldn't get close enough to sniff, though he could barely see the inward indent of the underwear pressed into the crack. . .then the big tail in his way twitched, and he heard a soft "pffff." The smell followed immediately; the overpowering stink of his dad's gas filled his nostrils, mouth and head; his eyes rolled back as he quietly inhaled the last traces of the stink in the air. His cock was stone-hard and aching for a rubbing.
After a quick and futile sniff to see if he could get any more of his dad's wonderful scent, he slowly backed away and crawled out of the door, too tired for any further adventures.
He went to his room, closed the door, plopped onto his bed, and fapped like crazy.
His mind wandered to the smell, how good it was, and he tried to keep it there, as though conjuring it in his head would make the smell real in his nose. He fantasized about walking in and burying his head in his dad's ass, waking the older dragon up. . .and his dad would look down, wide-eyed with surprise. . .then he would grin, lift his tail up high, and press his ass into his moaning son's face. . .commanding him to smell it, lick it, make his daddy's ass happy. . .and he'd obey, rub his nose in his daddy dragon's wet tailhole, call daddy "master". . .
His orgasm erupted hard enough to hit his moaning face. With the remission came stark reality: if his dad ever found out what he'd been doing almost every night for the past three years, well. At best there would be an impermeable wall of awkwardness between them for the rest of their lives; at worst. . .he didn't want to think about the worst. He cleaned himself up, rolled onto his side, and went to sleep.
He woke up eight hours later with all the rest of eight minutes. Dispensing with morning bathroom duties, he put on some clothes and went to the kitchen. He smelled coffee and his brain went "coffee good."
Dad had already got his and was reading a paper at the table; it was a Saturday, a slow morning. His yellow eyes looked up.
"You know," he said, "they say that you need more sleep when you're eighteen. I didn't believe it until now."
In response, Tio grunted, gave him the finger and poured his coffee.
The minute he sat down he knew something was wrong. Dad held the paper in his hands, but he seemed to look at it without reading; his mouth frowned in concentration at something going on inside his head rather than outside his eyes. He eventually moved his eyes away from the paper to look at Tio; they made eye contact for a second before he looked away, with a "nothing's wrong everything's normal don't look at me I'm not comfortable" smile one might see on a stranger in a public bathroom. Soon both of their tails were moving in twicthy motions; Tio tapping his legs and his father scratching the paper with one of his claws.
He was about to get up and leave the room when dad put his paper down, sighed, and looked at Tio in the eyes.
"Tio, I'm going to ask you a question. I want you to answer honestly. I promise in advance that I will not be angry, judgmental or mean; just answer honestly. Okay?"
Uh-oh.
"Um. Okay. Is something wrong?"
Hesitation. "I don't know yet." Awkward pause. "Have you been going into my room at night?"
A lot happens in the span of two seconds. On the surface, everything appears normal, calm, even. But inside, at the trigger of something as simple as a question, all hell is breaking loose; chemicals are releasing, thoughts are firing faster than ever before; the fight-or-flight response activates and the pros and cons of each possible decision is thoroughly weighed and calculated; then one is made and the body prepares for its immediate consequences while the mind starts thinking of how it can control the damage as best and quickly as possible. All the red flags and fire alarms in Tio's head activated and a mere two seconds passed before the chaos inside of him expressed itself in a sentence:
"What makes you ask that?"
A stall. Doesn't answer question, allows approximately fifty seconds of time to predict future actions and conversations while not obviously appearing to be a stall. Likelihood of situation alleviation: minimal.
Another hesitation. Dad saw the stall for what it was and the bells and flags were going up in his brain too.
"Sometimes, at night, I feel like there's someone in there with me, just watching me sleep. There's just you and me in this house, and I was wondering. . ."
It took .4 seconds for Tio to pull out a file. "Sleep paralysis!" He almost shouted it.
"What?"
"I-it's called sleep paralysis. You know, you wake up, but you think someone's in there with you, but they aren't. People used to think it was demons, you know; my friend gets it sometimes and he says he could swear on a Bible that the thing from IT's in his room and--"
Dad waved a hand. "I know what it is, and it isn't that. Now. Could you answer the question?"
Suddenly the alarms stopped. The reactor melted down, the damage was done; there was nothing left but either to run like hell (where?) or accept the damage and hope he could at least keep one of his arms. Should have just said "no." He looked down at the table in front of him.
"Y-yeah. Sort of. I mean. Yeah, I have."
He looked up. Dad was watching him.
Moving deliberately, dad stood up and motioned for Tio to stand as well.
"Remember, son, I'm not mad. But. . ." It was his turn to look away. "When you're in my room, have you ever. . .you know." He waved his hand like it was an obvious matter, then sighed again.
"Do you ever touch me, son?"
Awkward pause. The bells stopped shrilling, but an answer never came. His face felt hot enough to cook an egg and he knew his blue cheeks were turning purple.
It was answer enough.
"How long have you been doing it?" His dad's face didn't betray anger, or repulsion, or much of anything else besides what may have been identified as morbid curiosity. He truly wanted to know.
Tio cleared his throat. "Three years." He didn't know what started it (puberty, he guessed) or why his dad's ass was the focus of his obsession (it was just so fucking hot), but he began desiring his father's hindquarters at age fifteen.
Dad's eyes opened wide. "Three years?"
"I'm sorry! It's just, you know, puberty and all, and everything, and I thought I was gay and, you know, wanted to know, you know and you were there, and it just. . ."
Tio was wringing his hands. Here it begins: the awkward wall, it was bult and being erected and now it would stand up between them forever; he didn't think he could ever form a complete sentence around his dad again.
The air hang with his attempt at an explanation for a moment.
"Do you. . ." dad cleared his throat. "Do you. . .touch me. . .because you find me attractive?"
Tio looked at his father, really looked at him. Eight feet tall on his hind legs, the blue skin slightly dull with age and stress; his yellow eyes, which frightened Tio when he was really little; all the little contours and movements of his face as he spoke and stood still. And he noticed the slight purple blush on his cheeks.
"Well," he began, "I. . .you are attractive. It's. . .I think most people would find you attractive. . ."
The question was out of his mouth before his mind could set up the necessary roadblocks. "Do you find me attractive?"
His father looked sharply at him. Sizing him up. Shit, Tio thought, Why'd you say that why why why did you fucking SAY that now he's going to eat me I just know it.
His dad's features softened. "You know, Tio, it's been a long time since your mother died." Tio was four. "I haven't. . .been with anyone since then. And someone calling you attractive, it's nice, you know? Even if it's. . .I mean, not that it's a bad thing. . .but you know." He cleared his throat again. "You definitely are attractive."
He was right. It did feel nice.
"So. . ." Tio began. Time for the elephant in the room. "What now? I mean, you're really not mad or anything?"
Hesitation. "Follow me."
He turned around and walked out. Tio looked down at his ice-cold cup of coffee (where the fuck did that come from?) and, leaving it on the table, followed.
They went into the master bedroom. Dad was sitting on the bed. He patted the spot next to him and Tio sat down.
"So you really think I'm attractive?" Dad began.
"Erm. . .yes."
Dad stood up. "What do you like most about me?"
Tio's face was the color of red grapes. "I. . .I don't. . .you won't. . .it's embarrassing."
His dad, who towered over Tio's sitting form, looked down at him. "Okay, I'll go first. I like. . .your tail."
Tio blinked. "My tail?" He brought the appendage up to look at. There didn't seem anything particularly attractive about it, but he noticed his dad looking at it too.
"Yes. I love everything about it. I love the way it moves when you walk. I love how you can see the muscle near the base--right there." he pointed at the spot and his tail twitched automatically. "I also love that," he said. "Your body is young and all of you is nice, but your tail. . .it drives me crazy."
Tio looked from his tail to his dad. . .and saw a small bulge at the front of his pants.
"Do you like that?" His dad said, seeing Tio's eyes widen. "Is that the part of me you find attractive?"
"I. . .no. . .I mean yes. . .I mean. . .It's good. . .but your butt. . ."
Realization. "My butt?" He placed his hands on his ass cheeks. "This thing?" He turned his waist toward Tio.
Tio felt his breath come out in shudders. "Yes. . .God, yes. . .that's it. . ."
Dad suddenly growled, a deep, feral noise that started in his chest. "Do you want to touch it?"
Tio looked up. His father's face held a look he had never seen before. His chest was rising and falling and he could hear the deep breaths passing through his body. And he was aware of his own erection forming.
"Tio. . ." Dad pulled his shirt off, exposing his chest and stomach. "Take off your clothes." He reached down and began to unfasten his pants.
Tio obeyed; his clothes were on the floor before dad even got his pants down. His erection pointed straight up at his daddy, who looked at it for a moment beofre exposing his own half-mast cock a mere two feet away from Tio's face. Veins streaked across the bobbing shaft as it grew little by little into a full hardon.
Dad stepped back. "Look at me," he said. Tio looked. Dad moved his arms down his chest, rubbed his cock and balls. "Do you want me, son?"
"Y-yes."
He turned around, lifted his tail, and for the first time in his life Tio saw his father's beautiful bare ass.
"Do you want my ass?"
"God, yes!"
"Lay on your back."
Tio obeyed, climbing back on the bed. His father--his father, the dragon that helped create him, the creature that changed his diapers and spanked him when he was bad and played with him in the park on Sundays and helped pay his way through college--his father stood up on the bed, feet on eather side of Tio, looking down at his waiting son.
"Tell me how much you want me," he said.
"Oh, dad. . .daddy. . .I want you so bad. . ." he felt mildly embarrassed at first, but it got easier as he went along. He looked up at the testicles dangling over him, the pulsing tool that began to leak, and their owner; their big, powerful owner. "I want you so bad, daddy. . ."
"What do you want of me?"
"I want. . .I want you to sit on me. . ."
His dad turned and squatted slightly, exposing his ass. Tio could see his father's tailhole, tightly closed above him, waiting.
"Tell me how beautiful I am," dad said.
"Oh, God, dad, you're the most beautiful thing in creation; your ass is perfect, so perfect, you're a god, daddy, please, let me worship you, pleeeaaaase. . ."
His dad's ass lowered, slowly; Tio lifted his head to meet it, then it settled down on his face. He felt his father's cheeks clench together on his snout as he sniffed, inhaling as much ass stink as his lungs could hold and exhaling and inhaling again; every breath he took was his father's ass; it was his air, now, he needed nothing else. He nuzzled his nose in his father's asshole, heard the dragon above him grunt and moan slightly as he spread the cheeks apart. He kissed the wet, puckered hole, tasted the sweat gathered there. He wanted more.
He felt his father adjust above him, shifting his butt to stay on Tio's face while he bent over. He felt a hand grab his tail and pull it up between his legs, then something wet sliding across it from tip to base. His father took his tail in his mouth and sucked on it, moaning, rubbing it down with his arms and brushing against Tio's tailhole, cock and balls.
Tio took one of his hands and slid down his dad's ass until it found his balls; he held them in his hands and pulled slightly as he sucked on his father's anus. The dragon above him growled again and he felt his own balls fondeled. His cock was ready to blow, overloaded with a pleasure Tio never thought he would experience: his face buried in his father's smelly ass, his nostrils wet with butt-sweat, his lips kissing and sucking on the most private and desired part of his father's body. He licked the hole, pressed his tongue against it. He felt the heat of his dad's body as he pushed his tongue gingerly inside.
"Nrrg, don't do that," He vaguely heard his dad say. "I gotta--HOLY GOD!"
Suddenly his ass loosened around Tio's tongue. He pulled out and opened his mouth as the big dragon farted on his face.
"S-sorry, Tio, I GOD DAMN IT GOD SO GOOD!"
Tio attacked his father's ass then, breathing in his gas and shoving his nose against the hole, hard, pushing his tongue deep inside, not caring about anything but the stink enveloping his existence. He smelled it, he tasted it, and when he could hold on no longer he pulled his face out of his father's ass just long enough to moan:
"Maaaasteeeeer. . ."
He jerked his cock once and came, spurting his jizz anywhere it may land, which happened to mostly be his dad. Then he took his father's cok in his hands and plunged his tongue in his father's ass; the violent clenching around his tongue, the "Oh, oh, oh," coming form his father, and the warm wetness that he felt on his abdomen all confirmed his accomplishment.
His dad raised his ass off of Tio's face. Tio looked down and saw the white puddle his dad created. He put a finger in it, and placed some of the slime into his mouth.
His dad panted on the bed next to him. "Tio. . .what did you call me?"
Tio turned toward him. He could still smell nothing but his father's ass.
"Master," he said, smiling.
Dad looked at him and grinned. "I like that," he said. "I like that a lot."
He kissed his son on the cheek, then moved his lips around to meet Tio's. They kissed for a moment, gauging the weirdness of it.
"You taste like ass," dad said.
"Your ass is so good. . .I want you to fart on me again. . ."
They looked down and both of them were hard again. They ground against eachother, kissing and licking, before they went at it again, two dragons in the heat of lust.