Commission for @bremenmask:
“That thing is hideous, dude,” Carl groaned. Bart had unearthed a gaudy gold necklace from the box. It was just the remnants of their sperm donor, the stuff he left behind before he beat it and left them when they were little. Since returning to their abandoned family home, they had been slowly sifting through the stuff their dad had left behind. With no other real family to speak of beside him, they were passed around in the system. The only good thing he ever did for them was never come back for his house.
The boxes had sat in the attic for the few weeks since they moved back in. Eventually they agreed it was time to sift through his things, curiosity getting the better of them. They had both always wished to have known their father, but they didn’t feel like they needed to keep his stuff to remember him by, definitely not some sleazy jewelry at least. It made Bart look like some kind of seventies porn star, the way it framed his thin collarbone. All he was missing was the ‘stache and he’d be a bonafide daddy.
Carl shook his head, dropping the tank top was holding. Weird thought. He’d never really gotten over their dad leaving, especially since they had never known their mom either. Once they were old enough to dress themselves and started school, their dad left. It was a boring tale of being passed around growing up, but they got their inheritance when they turned eighteen and moved back in together.
“Yeah, but Dad might’ve been onto something with it. I look rich,” Bart jested, a snarky smirk plastered across his face. “You oughta take that tank top. It looks like it’ll fit you perfectly.” As the older brother, Carl was a little jealous that his brother had gotten all the beefy genes. He was tall, broad, and dusted in hair. He’d played baseball in high school, but not well enough to make it into college. Carl, on the other hand, was pretty, thin, and cared more about fiddling with his computer than leaving the house.
“If this thing makes me look as douchey as you do, I’ll pass. Take it off and let’s put it with the ‘to-keep’ stuff. We can always pawn it later if we need some quick cash.” Carl suggested. “Assuming it’s real gold.”
Bart muttered something under his breath and hid the gold chain inside the collar of the flannel shirt he was wearing when his brother wasn’t looking. Carl was kind of bossy, which Bart guessed was his job as the older brother, but Bart didn’t always listen. It was less important now than ever since they were both eighteen. Bart was an adult in his own right too. If he wanted to hang onto the chintzy jewelry that his dad left behind, he should be allowed to.
“Why don’t you go start dinner and I’ll drag this back up to the attic?” Carl suggested, the white tank top still hanging over his shoulder.
Bart wandered into the outdated kitchen and gathered the veggies to craft a salad. Bart was pretty into clean eating since his sporting days, and he wasted no time breaking the head of lettuce down with the butcher knife. As he was chopping away, he noticed the back of his hands seemed a little denser with hair. It must’ve been the fabled second puberty he’d heard so much about, even if he wasn’t expecting it so soon.
Brimming with excitement at his burgeoning masculinity, he popped a shred of lettuce into his mouth and recoiled instantly. The tasteless, crunchy leaf was just not what he really wanted. For some reason, he craved greasy fried chicken with a side of fries absolutely slathered in ranch dressing. The calories would be insane, but…
He found himself wiping the sweat off his brow as he opened the freezer and pulled out the two bags. They were for cheat-days or special occasions, but he needed them. As he waited for the oven to preheat, Bart dimly registered that his body felt different. He’d started to balloon outwards more than he had before. He felt heftier than he had even at his biggest during the height of baseball season. His arms got bigger, his chest grew broader, and his midsection started to protrude out. The hairs running down his arm thickened and darkened slowly, the shadow creeping up underneath his shirt. Anyone peering in might easily mistake him for a man twice his age.
Leaning back against the counter, he lifted an arm and was immediately hit with a wave of B.O. Whatever deodorant he’d applied a few hours before had already worn off in a bad way. Still, he felt a little stirring in his tighter jeans. It was the scent of a man, after all, and he was pretty damn manly. Bart reached up and popped the collar of his shirt open to let some of the heat out. He could see the golden glint of the chain around his neck when he looked down.
“D-Dad?” Bart was caught off guard by the kitchen door opening. Carl could hardly believe it, why after all this time?
“Carl!” Bart rushed over and pulled Carl into a headlock; the latter too shocked to recoil. Despite the anger welling up inside him, the heady musk of his dad’s armpit seemed to blast those thoughts right out of his head. Carl felt more dumbfounded, and a little horny, than anything.
“I see you decided to try that tank top out after all,” he laughed. “It looks good on you, nice and tight.” Carl had always been the thinner of the two, but Bart could already see that he was filling out with muscle. There was just the hint of growth on his stomach and his arms seemed heftier than before.
The gears slowly turned in Carl’s head. “Bart? What the hell happened to you?” He had only left the room a few minutes earlier, but Bart had exploded in sweaty muscles and hair. He looked like the type of guy who went to the gym a few days a week and stuffed himself silly the rest. It was a far cry from the guy who never even seasoned his chicken before he cooked it.
“I’m just dadding out, dude,” Bart smirked, patting his stomach with his other hand. He let Carl out of the headlock. “Look pretty good, eh?”
Carl didn’t want to admit it but there was something… magnetic about the way Bart looked. He was so beefy and hairy and even the smell of his armpit that lingered around his head had him popping wood right there in the kitchen. If he was alone, he would definitely be jerking off just on that.
“You still have that necklace on,” Carl’s expression flattened. “I thought I told you to take it off.” Was that the source of why he’d changed so much?
“Oh, this old thing?” Bart pulled it over his head and off, wasting no time dropping it onto Carl’s shoulders. Carl’s expression changed from anger and disgust to a slack-jawed awe nearly instantly. The sharp light in his eyes dimmed as a goofy smile replaced it. Despite objecting to his show of affection just a moment before, Carl wanted nothing more than to bask in the glow of his daddy and take care of all of his needs. Without hesitating, Carl reached forward and tore open the button-down shirt Bart was wearing.
“Aggressive,” Bart sneered. “Get to it then.”
All the blood in Carl’s head was rushing to his groin, heating his body up tremendously. His head dropped to Bart’s pit, and he greedily huffed it as he ran his hands down Bart’s beefy torso. The feeling of the hairs making the palms of his hands almost numb. He let his hands wander lower and began palming the growing bulge that was soon to be inside him. One hand still petting his dad, he used the other to pop the button on his jeans and unzip them. The heady scent that unleashed when his pants came down went straight to his head blasting any other thoughts away. If he hadn’t already been quivering with desire, that would have pushed him over the edge.
“Daddy, you smell good,” he slurred. Falling to his knees, he huffed Bart’s hard cock through his white briefs. They were a little damp with sweat and got even wetter when Carl started sucking his musk through the fabric.
Bart leaned back against the counter and rested his hands on the back of his head. There was something so right about being a daddy getting worshiped by his boy that he just didn’t fight it. If Carl wanted to suck the sweat out of his briefs and the cum from his balls, who was he to say no? His boy had been totally beefing out anyway, at least to the point where Bart was twenty years ago. His son would’ve been a great pro athlete if he could hold a book.
“That’s right,” Bart whispered encouragingly, “just like that.” Reaching one hand down, he pressed Carl’s face into his dick harder. It was almost enough to cum just from the indirect stimulation, but he had bigger plans. “Get it out.”
Carl looked up, his cheeks reddened and his eyes alight. Bart loved to see Carl look at his dick like it was the most delicious thing in the world. He pressed his nose into the crook where Bart’s cock and balls met and inhaled deeply over and over again, stroking his daddy off with both hands. The scent of his dad’s musky cock and the lewd squelching in his ear had him unloading in his basketball shorts, the white fabric darkening and growing heavy with cum.
“Damn, already jizzing just from huffing daddy’s nuts?” Bart chuckled, his dick pulsing in Carl’s hands. “How about you let me give you something better?” Grabbing the straps of the tank top, Bart pulled Carl, who was desperate to keep sniffing his balls, up to eye level. He wasted no time reaching back and sliding his hand inside Carl’s sweaty crack, fingering his already-loose hole open.
“You’re such a slut for daddy’s cock,” he whispered into Carl’s ear. “Already loose and wet, turn around and pull it out.”
Carl whimpered, sliding his wet shorts down. His hard, fat dick flopped out and slapped into the groove in his thick abs, sticky with his load. He looked more like an amateur wrestler than a baseball star, and he had definitely put his time in grappling other sweaty dudes. His favorite sweaty dude to grapple with definitely had to be his daddy though. If he wasn’t lifting weights, he was getting spread open as often as he could.
Carl traded places with Bart, putting his hands on the counter and sticking his thick ass out. Bart inhaled sharply as he spread Carl’s cheeks. His dick spat a glob of pre out at the sight. The dark hair swirling around the hole of Carl’s tight, muscular ass always got him bricked the fuck up.
“I’ll never get tired of this view.” He lined himself up, swabbing the wet head of his dick against Carl’s hole, teasing him. “You want this daddy dick?”
Carl whimpered, pressing back into it, desperate to get fucked. “Please, I need it so bad.” He drew the last word out, still rubbing his hole into Bart’s cock. Carl always, always, waited for Bart to make the first move in these situations. His daddy was the boss and Carl was his little fucktoy muscle boy to get used whenever daddy wanted.
Bart took his time, sliding in a bit and then pulling out, savoring Carl’s moans as he endlessly edged him. His favorite thing to do was tease and tease and then shove his dick in all at once when he finally couldn’t take it anymore. Bart reared back and slammed his dick into the hilt, the sudden stimulation causing him to blow his wad right into Carl’s ass. Bart squeezed his shoulders tight as Carl’s hole milked his dick for all it was worth.
Carl’s normally-baritone voice shot up an octave as he fired his second load across the counter. Still hilted, Carl leaned back to kiss his daddy as the oven beeped to let them know it was finished pre-heating.