“Boypussy“

“What, Dad?” Todd turned, looking at his father, curious.

Jack felt his cock stir in his pants and to his utter horror it began to stiffen as he stared at his son’s ass. He couldn't help himself as he started checking—no underwear outline visible, so probably Todd wasn't wearing anything underneath the shorts. Probably, Jack thought, if he yanked the shorts down, he’d be able to catch a glimpse of his son’s boypussy. Even just thinking the word made Jack’s cock swell even faster. Boypussy. Boypussy. Jack was breathing hard, now, his eyes staring towards his son’s ass but now a bit unfocused. In his head the word kept echoing. Boypussy. Boypussy. Boypussy. His son had a hot boypussy, and he needed it. Jack needed Todd’s boypussy.

All the ethical implications never really entered Jack’s mind. Any considerations he was aware of were logistical. Could he overpower his son? Probably, since Todd wouldn't expect it. If he didn't get his cock in Todd’s boypussy fast, though, Todd would probably be able to fight his way out. Jack would have to use the element of surprise to its fullest.

It didn't really occur to Jack that there was anything wrong with the notion of **** his son’s ass over the kitchen breakfast bar. It wasn't that he thought it was OK. He just didn't consider the issue at all. Something in his head needed it, and the need, that driving need for boypussy preempted any thoughts but how to get it.

“Dad?” Todd broke Jack’s trance ever so slightly. His father’s eyes darted nervously up from—what was he doing? It looked like his dad was staring at his ass. That didn't make any sense. Anyway, his dad was now looking at him. But something seemed wrong, slightly off. “Dad? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, son, I’m fine.” Todd relaxed a bit as his dad smiled. “Sorry, had a tiring day. I’m a little out of it.”

Todd nodded, “Yeah? What happened?”