A Cock and a Hard Place

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

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If you do not enjoy reading FtM/Transmasc or erotica with incest, kindly move along.

To everyone else, welcome! (And thanks to all of you who commented on my first story, the feedback was great!) This erotica involves FtM/Transmasc characters, incest, and terms for genitalia like 'clit' and 'cunt'. Happy reading!

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After his mom walked out on them, Mark came to rely on his dad more than ever. As a middle-aged, newly-single father, Mr. Simmons stepped into the role with gusto. His dad supported him through the grueling drudge of high school, and even helped fund the costs for his hormonal transition and top surgery after coming out. It had been a difficult few years, but their bond had stood firm. Now in college, Mark had come to appreciate his father's sacrifices and wanted to give back.

Father's Day was just around the corner. Mark, on break from his internship, had returned home to spend time with his dad. He had it planned perfectly. The new stereo system his father had been mooning over was ready to be set up, just as soon as the man went on his daily run. When he got home, Mark would surprise his dad with the new stereo setup, as well as the most recent sci-fi thriller he'd bought to go with it. The two could watch a movie and eat some take out, and his father would get a night to relax with his son. Everything would be perfect.

Finally, Mark heard the turn and click of the front door. He dashed from his bedroom to the garage, lugging the new speakers to the media room. His father's desktop and office setup took up most of the room, so he placed the speakers behind the door while he untangled all the cables. Approaching the desk, Mark toed the rolling chair out of the way and got to his hands and knees, snaking the cables under to where the outlets were. For the next few minutes he struggled on the itchy carpet, wrapping cords around and around each other as he tried to find a place to plug the stereos in.

Suddenly, the front door slammed shut. Mark froze. Shit, that was fast. I'm not finished yet!

Mark worked hastily, unplugging and plugging cords until the stereos were finally set up safely. By this point his dad was looking for him.

"Mark? Mark?" his dad panted, having just finished his run. Dropping his keys on the counter with a jingle, the man's feet thumped their way to the end of the hall. Mr. Simmons peered into his son's room, still heaving. "...Huh. Did he go out?"

Triumphant, Mark turned his body around until he faced outwards towards the greater room. He scooted forward, preparing to pop out and answer his dad's call, but stopped at the resistance against his ankle. A few of the cords to the main computer had become snagged around his leg when he'd turned around. Huffing impatiently, he tried to reach back with one arm and fiddle with it, all the while keeping an ear out.

Assuming his son had gone out, Mark's father entered the media room. Luckily, the door had swung further on its hinges as he walked in, keeping the new stereos from his view. He was still sweaty from a good run, his shirt and mesh shorts clinging to his form. As was always the case after a workout, he sported a half-chub. The man approached his computer, eager to take care of it.

Still fiddling with the cords one-handed, Mark had his neck craned awkwardly to see behind him into the semi-darkness further under the desk. As distracted as he was, he hadn't noticed his father entering the room until he approached the computer desk. Mark halted his efforts, watching his dad pull out the rolling chair.

Well, obviously I can't come out now...I'll have to wait until he's done checking his email or whatever and leaves.

The man sat and rolled the chair in, unknowingly trapping his son between his spread thighs. His legs stretched out beneath the desk, missing the boy hiding under it by mere inches, Mark held still, already feeling the itchy carpet dig patterns into his knees and palms. The smell of his father's sweat flooded his nose and the mesh of his shorts swished dangerously close to his head. Hopefully his father would finish quickly so Mark could move the speakers out from behind the door. This was starting to get a little uncomfortable, in several ways. Watching his dad readjust in his seat, Mark couldn't help but notice the undeniable bulge the man was sporting.

Mr. Simmons huffed a sigh, wiggling in his chair. He pulled up his favorite website before palming his bulge, moaning a little at the needed pressure. The man fumbled with the headphones lying on the CPU, plugging them in and placing them over his head. He tugged at his clothed member a last time before freeing it, yanking his shorts down and below his balls. His cock, now swollen with need, sprung free. Already it was pearling at the tip.

Beneath the desk, Mark was starting to truly panic. There was a sound of a plug meeting a socket and the whisper of expensive fabric - his headphones- before one last click of the mouse. It was quite obvious now what his father was planning to do on the computer. Frozen in tabletop position, Mark had watched in horror as his father tugged at his bulge and then freed it from his shorts. A thatch of brown curls came into view, trailing up the man's abdomen. Next the long, swollen member bobbed free, wafting the man's heady musk straight towards Mark. Breathing it in, he was forced to watch his father's fist squeeze and slowly stroke himself, pumping pre up and down his cock.

Jesus Christ, Dad, packing some serious heat..! Mark thought to himself hysterically.

There was no way this was actually happening. Mark did not want to sit here and see what so many single moms in the neighborhood had been so desperate to over the past few years. He didn't care if his dad wasn't unhygenic or even bad looking, since it was his fucking dad.

Even if it was already too late to make even a semi-dignified exit, Mark looked back over his shoulder once again to work on the tangle of cords trapping his ankle. A bass-y groan from above him froze his movements in the same moment he discovered something terrible. The largest cord hooked around his ankle was the one connecting the monitor to the CPU; if Mark even shuffled backwards a few inches he'd risk pulling the cord looped around his ankle, disconnecting it from the computer. And if the monitor just shut off right now, of course his father would immediately look under the desk to fix it. Mark went stiff with the realization - he was stuck under this desk for whatever was coming next.

Turning back reluctantly, the boy was just in time to catch his father fondling his balls. The man juggled and gently tugged at the heavy sack, making his erection jump happily. "Fuck yeah..." he groaned to himself. With a cramped back and increasingly protesting knees, Mark focused on the scratchy carpet below him to block out the graphic view in front of him. A view framed between his father's thighs, watching the muscles leap as he tugged his length and crooned under his breath to some oiled up porn star.

Above him, Mark's father groaned deeply once more and clenched his thighs, picking up the pace. His extended legs narrowly missed brushing his son's stiff impression of a footstool, causing Mark to flush in panic. The boy's head flew back up, only to see how close the bobbing member was to his own red face. The musk was intense, overshadowed only by the sight of his father's fist slowly, so slowly, caressing the shaft. The repetitive motion hypnotized his gaze, and he watched in mortified awe as the meat of the man's grip stroked himself to a darker shade. Mr. Simmons readjusted himself in the swivel chair, causing his lengthy cock to jump wildly in front of his nose. The eye of his shaft bobbed directly between Mark's own eyes, nearly making them cross.

Suddenly and with a horrified croak, Mark realized that this already sticky situation was becoming a bit too stimulating. The growing heat in his face, the pungent aroma of a leaking cock, and his doggy-style position in the dark were all working against him. A barrage of tingles spread from his asshole down to his cunt, where moisture began to gather between the folds.

The fact that it was his dad's presence giving him this reaction didn't seem to matter to all the blood in his head rushing southward.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, no!

Though his thighs clenched with need, Mark valiantly ignored it - none of this was happening. It'd be over soon, hopefully, and he'd just slip out of the room and never ever ever think about this again. And just maybe he'd be able to look his dad in the eye again....No, not that eye!

His thoughts continued in hysterical circles, distracting him from the developments happening above his head.

The older man shuddered, impatiently yanking his sweaty workout top to his chin where he left it. With practiced movements the father pulled and plucked at his nipples, turning the flesh of his hairy pecs a rosy color. He widened his already gaping thighs and scooched further into his desk. Fuck if he wasn't so pent up. Every new bit of stimulation made the man want to just say screw it and let go, but he'd already held himself back long enough. He knew this load was fixing to be a huge one anyway and he wanted a chance to try out his new toy.

Releasing his cock, the man scrambled his hand directly below the lip of the desk. His questing fingers finally hit what he was looking for, yanking and pulling his new toy down. Or rather, swinging it into Mark's temple.

Ow! The fuck-?

A decent sized fleshlight, clearly jerry-rigged with strings to hang under the desk, swung down from where it was nestled in a corner compartment. With Mark's head in the way the device had swung off-balance until it rested against his cheek, still suspended by strings. In just about any other situation he might've even laughed at the horny ingenuity of it - but now it's presence wasn't about to blow his cover. Mark parted his lips on an "ow"- only to become a surprised "omph!" as his father's warmth filled his mouth in one smooth slide. With one hasty jab the man had seated his length in his son's throat, tensing and groaning in relief. Meanwhile his son's stomach sank fast like an anchor. If Mark's teeth got in the way or he made a single sound further, his dad would discover him and the boy knew it. Desperately and with watering eyes, he had no choice but to hold his mouth open and unresisting to his father's thrusts, each one rougher and more enthusiastic than the last.

And if he'd thought the sensory imagery was invasive before, it was completely now. Against his will the hot, bitter taste of his dad's cock swept straight past his lips, coating his tongue. Hearing, feeling, even smelling his dad unknowingly plunder his mouth. Mark's ears and cheeks flushed hotter at his father's deep grunts. The man's member was quickly fattening between his lips, forcing his already aching jaw even wider. The tingling and wetness at his crotch was quickly coloring the whole situation with a pleasant tinge, almost tempting Mark to reach back and touch himself.

No! There's no way this is fucking happening - I'm not enjoying Dad fucking my mouth. I'm not getting wet, I'm not I'm not I'm-

Mark thought this desperately to himself, as if he had any hope of stopping the slick warmth gathering fast beneath his shorts. His cunt was becoming a slick, puffy mess. The boy's clit was even beginning to make an appearance, standing up stiff from its hood. Distantly he felt tension building in his knees and back from holding his 'tabletop' stance for so long.

Having been pent up all week, Mr. Simmons didn't go easy on his new expensive fleshlight, railing into the tight channel underneath the desk with rapid torques of the hips. His ass now hovered a few inches off the swivel chair, and he gripped the sides of his mahogany desk with two hands to anchor himself. This was his first time using the toy. He hoped he wouldn't be forced to replace it as soon as his other ones...He'd bought the model because it claimed to mimic the sensation of a good blowjob, but the man couldn't believe the way it caressed his cock like a real mouth - even squeezing it periodically. Mark's father could feel himself absolutely dripping from the tip and grunted, panting harshly. Even his ex-wife hadn't been able to give him blowjobs that felt this miraculous.

For Mark the constant pistoning motion was nearly giving him whiplash as his dad's cock gutted his mouth. A warm, sloppy mess of pre and spit frothed from the back of his throat out the corners of the boy's mouth. The entire lower half of his face was getting wet with drool. That and his father's rapid 'pokes' had him gagging constantly, throat unused to juggling the weight of a hard dick. The combination of sounds was vulgar even to his own ears. It was only due to the blessing that was the man's noise-cancelling headphones that he couldn't hear it too.

"Glug-glug-gulp-glug-glug-"

With his mind wiped clean of anything else the son gagged on his dad's hard cock, feeling his cunt hopelessly clench around nothing. Mark rocked his hips unconsciously, like a dog trying to find release. Above him, Mr. Simmon's was finally nearing the grand finale. He pulled back out of his cocksleeve with a slurp and began jerking his length furiously, cum and spit flying off the shaft. The man hunched one-armed over his keyboard, no longer paying his video any attention.

"Ohhh, fuck! Here it comes...here it comes. Gonna cum....fuuuuck, gonna-!"

Mark had felt a wave of relief so intense he formed chills upon feeling his dad hastily remove his cock. But he only got a second to breathe in before the man shoved his length right back in with an almost cruel ferocity. With watering eyes Mark felt his mouth be filled to the brim, powerful shots of come warming his tongue and sliding down the back of his throat. He desperately swallowed shot after shot of jizz, nearly choking on his own gulps.

The last few jets of his father's cum were hot, fast, and directly into his face. "A-ah!" White ribbons splattered his cheeks and nose, even as he angled away, mortified. But he couldn't avoid the sight and sound of his father wetly jerking his cock, almost violent in his release. After the immediate barrage the following spurts freckled across his lips and chin, making Mark splutter. On the other side of the desk his father growled in oblivious ecstasy.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it, baby...take Daddy's come. Ngh, you know you want it...that's all for you, baby..."

The bassy command rumbled all the way down to Mark's toes. His neglected cunt clenched and leaked slick down his thighs, just as bits of cum continued to run down his face.

Mr. Simmons huffed shakily through the last of his orgasm, collapsing back into his desk chair. He slowly fucked the wet clamp of his fist to finish emptying his balls, unknowingly forcing his shots of seed onto his son's lips. A string of cum connected his father's dick to Mark's flushed lips, still parted. Between his legs his soaking cunt pulsed, clit swelling fat and happy between his lips. Mark whimpered quietly in shock.

As for his father, the man relaxed back into his leather seat, panting. Eventually he tucked himself back in and sighed. "...Bet I missed and got the carpet again. Now I'm gonna have to clean that up." A few more seconds of dazed confusion and then Mark perked up, realizing what that meant for him. The man heaved himself out of his sweat-soaked chair and headed for the ensuite bathroom, door closing to a hairline crack. There was a shuffle of cabinet doors opening followed by the sink cutting on. He'd have to act fast.

Under the sounds of rushing water Mark quickly and quietly unlooped his ankle and slid from under the desk, body sore and mind still shaken. He breathed deep and swiped at his cum-stained face with his sweatshirt. He craned his neck to the bathroom door - still mostly shut - and then back to the desk, finally relaxing. Hunched over in front of the rolling chair the young man clutched the damp leather, just breathing and shaking through his arousal.

With the realization that his hands were finally free Mark threw an arm down between his legs and pet at his cunt, the warm wetness spreading over his fingers. He inched his spread legs wider and wider until the room's AC blew against his aching holes. Planting himself cheek-first into the fabric below him, he barely registered the way the damp leather stuck to his cum-streaked face. Panting into the expensive stitching, Mark rubbed, pulled, and cupped with his fingers until the slick sounds of his cunt reached his red-tinged ears. Over his previous shame, the boy whined loudly and felt his climax approaching closer...and closer...and closer-

"Ah! Ah!....oh, oh shit...unh-"

The sudden sound of a cabinet clacking open jolted him back to reality. Mark's knee slipped, sending him open-mouthed into the deep leather. The musk and taste of his father's sweat was overpowering, filling his every sense. With a scrunch of his toes and a last desperate clench of his ass he came, cunt twitching repeatedly.

"Uh! Uh! Uh-uh-uh-ohhhh fuuck! Dad!"

Mark trembled and shook through the strongest orgasm he'd ever had - and the wettest. After what had felt like hours of constant arousal, he was finally starting to feel like he could think clearly. Clearly enough to realize that the sink had long since cut off, and the whole office rang out in silence. The boy remained hunched over and clutched desperately at his knee-bound shorts, once again aware of the shameful heat knotting up his core. Suddenly tense, he yanked his shorts back up and bolted to his feet, making a bee-line out the door. From behind him he could've sworn he heard the slight creak of the bathroom door and a voice.

"....Mar-?"

But already his son had cleared the office door, in his haste glossing over why he'd originally entered: to present his Father's Day gift. After all, it seemed like Mark had already given Mr. Simmons a sticky treat neither of them would soon forget.

END