Razzle’s Circus

Getting dad drunk after a long day, grabbing him beer after beer while he relaxes on the couch. Rubbing his feet and legs while he knocks them back. Helping him undress, taking off his socks, shirt, and pants. Him sinking into the couch, warming the leather with his body heat. Watching his eyes slowly droop until he’s passed out with his head tilted back, snoring with a beer still in hand.

Setting his beer on the coffee table and pulling his cock out through his briefs. Holding his soft dick as you smush your nose into his balls. Taking in his strong scent, a days worth of sweat and musk hitting your face, enveloping all your senses. Stroking his cock as it rests on your forehead, just taking it slow, savoring what’s in front of you. Feeling his dick hardening against your face, twitching when it brushes across your lips.

So focused on his cock you don’t notice him wake up until he’s shifting in his seat and pulling you back by your hair. Looking up briefly while he pulls his underwear down, never breaking eye contact until he pushes your head down towards his ass. Commanding you to eat it while he jerks off. Licking and sucking at his hole, feeling the coarse hairs brush over your tongue. Lathering him in spit as you push his legs further apart, allowing you to shove your head deeper. Pushing your tongue in to loosen him up. Barely able to breathe through your nose, smushed so hard into his skin, your tongue pressed as deep as it can go.

His hand brushes the top of your head, going back and forth as he gets closer. Pulling your tongue out, you slowing inch a finger in, curling in up inside him. Hearing his pangs get heavier and heavier. Sliding another finger in, fucking them in and out of him, trying to hit that spot each time.

Lifting your face, he shove his cock in your mouth, telling you to suck the tip. His hand smacks your lips with each move until his hips jerk forward and he cums against the back of your throat. Looking up to see his eyes clamped shut, hips softly rocking back and forth.

He pulls your mouth off him with a light pop, bringing his face down for a kiss. His tongue licking the drool leaking out the corners of your lips. Holding you there until you need to tap his arm for a breath.

“C’mon, boy, get in your dads lap”

Lifting you by your armpits to give you a boost, spreading your legs wide so y’all can sit chest to chest. Resting his hand on your ass while the other brings your own, bringing up to your mouth.

“Lick those fingers, the ones you had in me. I taste good huh? Yeah, you love the taste of your dad, no matter what, don’t you baby? Thought so, now get those shorts off, wanna cockwarm you for a bit. Might get some energy to fuck you later, but still wanna feel my boy wrapped around me

Aw don’t worry, I know you’re wet, I saw you rutting against the floor. Those shorts are thin enough for you rub your little dick through. Here, lemme get down there and . . . ohhh you feel that, hun? Already able to get a couple fingers in, you can take my cock. It’s not like I’m gonna be moving anyways, gives you plenty of time to adjust, sweet boy”

Raising your hips up so his cock meets your hole, he pushes you down until your ass meets his thighs. Every inch pressed inside you. A hand grabs your head and shoves in his neck, while another rubs your back. Going down to your ass, rubbing across your hole before making its way back up. The hand from your head shifts down, stroking along your thigh. Settling just before your cunt, thumb making small circles along your tdick. When you shift back and forth, trying to gain some more friction, his hands stop you. Gripping your skin, not continuing to work until you stop moving

“No no, don’t squirm or wiggle around, baby. Just lemme feel you. You’re soooo soft and sensitive. You’re starting to get so hairy, look at that tummy. Love feeling your little happy trail growing in, my boys coming along so nicely. And your dick is getting bigger, isn’t it? Yeahhh such a cute cock, can’t wait til your big enough so I can buy you your very own fleshlight. Wanna watch you jerk off like that every night, baby boy

Ah I feel you sucking on my neck. Just keep em low, baby, your dad’s shirts don’t go up too high. Gotta keep em covered, can’t have the guys at work asking questions. They might wanna take you from me, but no no no, can’t let that happen, you’re allll mine. My boy, my son . . .”

Your lieutenant is...weird. Not in the socially inept loner way, though there is that, more so in the way he just...is.

He sits with his team at lunch, cuts up all his food and moves it around his plate, but you swear you've never seen him actually eat anything. Then there's the way he moves. Robotic, rehearsed. Even his flinches feel either too dull or too dramatic to be real. Like he's never been human before that moment, without the intrinsic sense of movement that so many people have. It's weird. It sets off some alarm bells in your mind that you have to actively push down because people can have motor function issues don't be an ass. But there's always something just off about Ghost.

Then it happens. A mission that went sideways, you and Ghost separated from the team and without comms.

But it's fine. You've been through worse, survived an entire month before a recon team found you, but it's still not ideal. Especially when your lieutenant starts to fidget and shift as the night grows near. He's muttering to himself about damn feeding schedules and no good meals while pacing the tiny cave you managed to find.

You go to bed while ghost takes the first watch, he seems too nervous to actually sleep. When you wake up, it's not because ghost woke you. The cave is empty, and you know from years of experience that you've slept longer than you should have, too well rested. Ghost's gear is laid out next to you, along with his mask. He intends to return.

You smell the gore before you see him.

Ghost steps into the cave, and in the pale moonlight the blood looks almost black. Swallowing up all the light. Like an abyss has made its home on ghosts person. He doesn't see you're awake, which is probably why you see what you do.

A...tentacle. Long, tapered. It wraps around Ghost's hand and swipes up the blood, disappearing under his balaclava before coming back out to swipe up more. You're so mesmerized by the alien appendage that you don't even notice ghost looking at you until it darts back under the mask and stays there.

He's stood stock still. "...sergeant."

God. You should probably be horrified, or at least wary. Given that your lieutenant just disappeared, came back in mystery blood, and somehow has a fucking tentacle hidden under his mask. You should also probably not be standing up with wide curious eyes and asking "what the hell is that? Is it part of you? Can i see it again? Please?"

Ghost freezes, large hands coming up to push at your biceps and give himself space. He seems taken aback. "You...yer not gonna run? Call me a monster and try to kill me?"

"Wha– no! No. Not if you let me get another look at it! Cmon, here, sit down." You pull him to sit against the wall of the cave, and turn on your lantern so you can properly see. Ghost is still covered in blood, and your hands are sticky where you grabbed him, but you don't notice. Waiting patiently.

Ghost closes his eyes, like he's debating with himself, before the tentacle finally slithers out. It looks slimy, smooth. You expected to see suction cups, but it's homogeneous. He grunts when you reach up to feel the tentacle, fingers rubbing over it. It's so interesting! Unlike anything you've seen before. Your fingers wrap around it, starting from the tip and traveling further down. You mentally track the way your fingers have to widen to accommodate the width. Again and again, exploring the silky, slick texture.

Suddenly, ghost is grabbing your hand and holding it still. His eyes look deadly where they meet yours. "I'd stop now if I were you, sergeant. You had yer look, and unless you plan on carrying through with yer actions, you better quit."

"Huh?" You tilt your head, noticing the way ghosts lashes flutter as the tentacle works itself between the gaps of your fingers. You look between ghosts face, then back to the tentacle rubbing into your palm, then down to his lap. "...Oh! Oh, okay! Is that– how does that even work? Does it just–"

Youre even more intrigued now, and ghost exasperatedly thunks his head against stone while you ramble. Fine. You dont seem to want to shut up, stupid human. He can fix that.

The only warning you get is a quick don't bite before the tentacle slides into your mouth. The taste of copper, followed by a slightly sweet taste registers as the slick pools against your tongue. Unbidden, you whine, open your mouth further because holy shit that feels good.

You jolt as a second tentacle slides in, rubbing against the backs of your teeth and over your molars. A third is slithering over your jaw. You have to swallow a few times from the sheer amount of slime the things produce, an odd substance like watery glue.

More tentacles travel lower, wrap around your neck, and squeeze just enough for you to slap at ghosts bicep in warning. He laughs, grabs your hips to sit you properly into his lap and against his bulge. "Yknow, I could kill you right now. Snap your neck with these things. You'd make a nice meal." A hand slips into your pants "Hmmm, but I know of something much better."

Your head feels a bit fuzzy, and when you try to tell ghost that you find your hands only lift a few inches before dropping back down. Dead weight. The tentacles retreat, and he pulls back just enough to see the foggy look in your eyes. "Do you like it? Paralytic. Keeps food from fightin', also keeps you from doing anything stupid."

He takes your gear off methodically, and you can't help the silent curiosity of exactly what he plans to do. Ghost lays you down against his jacket, pulls your clothes off, and admires your naked body. Something in his pants shift, and if you could you would have gasped when a fucking tentacle slides out from his fly. Thick as hell, dripping precum with a generous slit at the tip.

He notches it against your unprepped hole, and that's when anxiety finally makes itself known. Ghost bows over you, braces a hand against your hip to keep you in place

-🖇️ (sorry if this doesn’t make sense im really high :3)

“Sorry if this doesn’t make sense” he says about one of the most crystal clear, lightning-bolt-to-the-dick level hot scenarios I’ve ever seen on here. Fuck.

Finding my twin boys on the old futon in the garage high as blue blazes with an open package of gummies on the little end table, both shirtless, legs and arms sprawled all over, one boy laying across the other’s lap. I’m so caught off-guard by them being high that it barely even registers that they’re practically petting each other.

I try the old “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed” act, but they just start giggling and ask me to come sit down with them — they’re both daddy’s boys and know that the puppy dog eyes work on me every time.

My one boy pushes himself up from his brother’s lap and I sit between them; both twins immediately snuggle up to me, hugging me and nuzzling against my chest, stroking each other’s arms and shoulders.

“It just feels really good dad,” one says, scratching at my beard with his fingertips. “Everything feels . . . More. Y’know?”

I smile in spite of myself, because it always makes me happy hearing my boys say things they’ve picked up from me, even a simple “y’know” here and there.

“I know bub. And I know you’re not little kids anymore, you can make your own choices.” I wrap my arms around both of them. “Honestly, I really oughta be glad it’s just weed. Not the worst thing you could be doing by any means.

They both curl up against me with my arms around them, their own arms half-wrapped around each other too. “I love you dad,” they say almost at the same time.

One of my boys has his hand on my stomach, and starts pulling my shirt up.

“Whatcha doin’ there, champ?” I say, trying to reach and tug my shirt back down.

He yanks my shirt back up and rubs my belly. “I like how your hair feels. It’s really soft, dad.”

“Daaaaad, c’mon, take your shirt off too,” my other son says and he starts trying to tug my shirt off completely. “You’re so warm.”

“Okay okay,” I say as I pull my shirt off “It’s getting a little toasty in here for me anyhow.”

Both boys give me a quiet “yaaayyyy,” then one nuzzles his face in the crook between my armpit and chest, the other with his cheek on my chest reaching over and stroking his brother’s hair with one hand and the other tucked behind my back.

We just sit there together while their hands wander gently, and my heat melts seein’ my boys so sweet and happy. I kiss each one on the forehead, and they giggle.

“Should we do it?” One twin asks the other.

“I’m nervooouuusss,” the other one whines playfully, and everyone knows he’s not nervous at all.

“What’re you boys talking about?” I squeeze their arms with my hands.

They share a mischievous smile, then both stretch up and kiss me on either cheek. I laugh and hug them tighter.

“You’re my good boys, you know that, right?”

“Yessir,” they say in unison, then kiss my cheek again. And again. And again, linger just a little. Then start kissing closer to my mouth.

“Whoa there guys, what’re you —” a kiss right to the lips cuts me off and a muffle a quiet “oh” into his mouth. Before I can say anything else, the other boy jumps in, kissing me long and deep, his tongue sliding against my lips.

“Hang on you two, I think you’re just a little out of it right now.” I try and get up but one boy jumps up in my lap to keep me down, and the other starts kissing my neck and whining at me, “But daaaaddd, it feels so good and we’ve wanted to do this for forever, we were even taking about it before you got here. You’re so handsome dad! We love you so much and just wanna be closer, pleeeaaaase???”

The other nods his head quickly, their eyes still hazy but with a need behind them that I’d never seen before.

“Boys, I — I don’t know what to say.” My words catching in my throat while the twin on my lap sinks a little further into me, and I’m about six seconds away from my body showing them both exactly how much I’m enjoying this.

“You don’t have to say anything, dad,” my other son says, his hands cupped around my beard. “We wanna make you feel good.”

“I know you already feel pretty good,” says the boy on my lap, giggling and bouncing gently on my crotch. Busted.

“Dude, come feel this,” my son says, grabbing his brother’s hand and shoving it under his butt onto my painfully hard dick. “He’s so biiigggggg.”

My boy whimpers when he feels me. “I knew you would be, dad!”

“Boys, I don’t —”

They don’t let me say another word, each taking turns kissing me and letting their hands wander my body, each other’s bodies; switching places on my lap; tugging at my belt buckle and my jeans; taking turns on their knees in front of me, and my mind is spinning while they keep going further and further.