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He was supposed to have the motel alone until three thirty. Sam was at school and their Dad was out interviewing witnesses to some monster.
Dean was bored. Which, to a nineteen year old, meant horny. It was only one thirty – he could get a few good orgasms in by the time Sammy got home.
And that's how he got here. On his side on the hard motel bed, scratchy comforter irritating his cheek. His cock was trapped between his thighs, pointing backwards and nearly hiding it from view when he looked down his body. He was pushing the dildo he’d purchased with a little bit of saved job money in and out of his hole, whimpering softly. His biggest secret, but only the walls could hear him.
Lost in his own world, Dean didn’t hear the door open an hour later. “Daddy… Please, fuck me harder, Dad,” Dean panted, grinding his thighs against his cock. Precome was dribbling down his smooth, bare thigh, a clear indicator of his arousal.
“Dean?”
He gasped, lifting himself up on his elbow. “Dad?”
It should have been mortifying. It usually is, when a parent walks in on their kid masturbating. But as soon as Dean met his father’s shocked expression his orgasm hit, his entire body jerking and shaking as come poured out of his purpled tip, pooling on the bed under his leg.
The mortification hit when Dean recovered. He yanked the toy from his ass and fought for the blanket, trying to cover himself up. “I—I can explain—“
“Don’t, Dean.” John sighed and closed the door quietly, leaning on it. “So you’re gay.”
“I—I’m into both,” Dean whispered, ashamed.
“And you’re into incest play.”
Dean looked away, his cheeks burning so hot he was sure they were glowing. “Dad, I—“
“Answer me, Dean. Is it play? Or were you picturing… Your father.”
Dean’s eyes welled with tears. They burned as badly as his cheeks did. One spilled over, and he’d never been so glad his father couldn’t see his face. “I’ll pack my stuff and go.”
When John grabbed his shoulder, Dean jumped. He hadn’t noticed him approaching. He looked up at his father reluctantly, expecting hatred, disgust, or even a fist, poised to break his nose.
But John was smiling. A gentle, loving smile that Dean hadn’t seen in a very long time. “Don’t cry, Dean.”
He wiped his cheeks quickly, sniffling once.
“That’s my boy.” John leaned down, letting his lips brush over his son’s.
Dean gasped, his eyes widening. He pulled back, his tongue darting out. “Dad…”
“Shh,” John whispered. He sat on the bed with Dean moving forward until the smaller man was forced to lie back down. John tossed the blanket aside and spread Dean’s thighs, looking at his swollen, red hole.
“Have you ever taken more than toys back here, Dean?”
“N—No, sir. I didn’t want to get caught.”
“Ever had a girl use a toy on you?”
Dean shook his head again. “Only Sammy even knows I’m into guys. A—And Sammy doesn’t know about my secret. He’d hate me.”
John smiled again, gently brushing his thumb over Dean’s entrance. “Sam would never hate you, Dean. That kid worships the ground you walk on. And for good reason. You grew up perfect. You’re brave, and strong, and so handsome…”
“Dad, what’re you doing?”
Dean’s back arched off the bed when John pressed two fingers into him. His father’s fingers were much thicker than his own, spreading him farther than he expected.
“Does that hurt?”
“N—No, Dad, fuck—“
“Just relax, Dean. I’m gonna show you how good it feels with a real cock.”
Dean’s cheeks reddened again. He looked down at his father – his hero for so long. “You don’t hate me?”
“I could never hate you, son. I felt so wrong – thinking you were so handsome for all these years. I wish I’d known.” He pushed deeper, spreading his fingers to stretch out Dean’s virgin hole.
“Dad,” Dean moaned. His hand was shaking as he dug under the pillow, finding the bottle of lube and pushing it down toward his father. He couldn’t believe this. He had to be dreaming.
“There we go. Make this easier.”
“W—We only have an hour before Sam comes home. Please, I can take it. I like it a little rough anyway.”
“You sure? This is your first time, Dean.”
“And it’s with you. Come on!”
John huffed a laugh. “Pushy for a bottom,” He commented, but undid his jeans and pushed them down to his knees. He added lube to his cock and some more to Dean’s hole before spreading Dean’s thighs wider.
“Ready?”
“Yes!” Dean groaned, frustrated. His cock was hardening on his stomach but Dean kept his hands on the headboard above his head, determined to come untouched for his first time.
Dean’s heart skipped a beat when John pressed the flared tip of his cock into his hole. It stung in the best way, pulling at his fluttering rim as he stretched to encompass it. John was bigger than his dildo by a lot, and Dean felt a few tears run out of the corners of his eyes before he could stop them.
John took notice and stopped immediately, his tip nestled just past the inner ring of muscle. “Dean, talk to me. You good?”
Dean drew in a shuddering breath, dropping his hands from the headboard to wipe the tears away. “I’m aces.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to hurt.”
“It’s a good pain,” Dean assured him. He brought his hands down to his father’s broad shoulders, rubbing for a moment before curling his bowed legs around John’s hips and drawing them in, urging him to drive his cock deeper. “Don’t stop, Daddy.”
They both moaned when John’s cock jerked, reacting to the name. He began to push into Dean again, allowing his son to drag his torso down. Their lips met in a messy kiss, teeth clashing and ragged breaths. John’s five ‘o clock shadow scraped at Dean’s lips and chin – he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like against his thighs and ass. His cock gave a happy little jump at that and Dean whimpered, sliding his hand down to palm John’s ass.
John stopped once he was buried in his oldest son's hole, resting his forehead on Dean's shoulder.
Dean ran his fingers through John's hair, noting the flecks of grey throughout. Hunting could've done it, but chances are it was his two boys. Hopefully now he could help John take some stress off regularly.
He tightened his ass around John's cock experimentally, grinning when John moaned his name. Dean bit down gently on his earlobe before whispering, "Gonna fuck me hard, Daddy? Break me in with your big, hard cock? Make your baby boy walk around with a wet, sloppy hole for the rest of the day?"
As he spoke, he kneaded John's ass, slowly pumping his hips. He clenched and loosened his hole in time to his thrusts, grinning from ear to ear whenever John would whimper, or his cock would throb.
"Fuck, Dean - where'd you learn that nasty talk?" John panted, trying to sound stern. He lifted himself up on his hands to look down at Dean.
"Porn. And some girls I fucked - a couple of them used to get off on calling me Daddy when I was still in school. Why? Don't you like it?"
John groaned, closing his eyes. "I love it, son, as much as I shouldn’t."
Dean gasped, grinding down again. "Then fuck me already and maybe you'll hear some more."
"I'd rather just hear you scream," John admitted. With that he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into Dean.
Dean certainly screamed. And kept screaming as John picked up a brutal pace, fucking his previously virgin hole open wide with each deep thrust.
The headboard banged against the wall, almost hiding the slick squelch of lube and precome every time John bottomed out inside Dean.
He could do little more than hold onto John's shoulders, his legs wrapped tightly around his thighs. He felt his voice giving out, rasping as he shouted for his Daddy to pound him harder or make him come - amidst the general nonsense syllables.
John's thrusting became erratic and he leaned back, gripping Dean's hip hard enough to bruise. "I'm close. Where do you want it?" He huffed.
"I--inside me, please, Dad."
John nodded and reached over, grasping Dean's cock. He began to stroke it but Dean grabbed his wrist.
"No, please. Don't touch it. I wanna come on your cock alone," Dean pleaded.
"Okay, Dean. Be a good son then - come for me."
He shifted the angle of his thrusts, aiming for Dean's prostate over and over.
Dean screwed his eyes shut, overwhelmed. His cock began to drool precome freely and his legs shook around John's body.
"Dad, I--" He couldn't finish his warning before he came. Dean's ass clenched tightly around John's cock as his body jerked. His hips bucked erratically, come spurting out of his cock in ropes that landed on his belly and chest each time John's cock struck his prostate.
Wanting to milk his son's orgasm as long as possible, John began to fuck into him faster. His orgasm hit within seconds and he stilled, coming as deep as he could go inside his son.
Dean moaned softly. His body still shook as his cock dribbled every time John's cock throbbed, releasing another rope of come deep into him.
"Daddy," Dean whispered, his eyes half shut. John began to thrust lazily, working the last of his orgasm out until Dean gave a sobbing moan. "T--too sensitive."
John pulled out carefully then, smiling when a river of his come followed. He gathered it on his fingers and pushed it back into Dean's used home.
"Gonna have to get you a comfy plug. Keep that all up in you."
Dean smiled softly, running his fingers through the mess on his belly. "We're gonna do this again?"
"As much as you want, Dean. You deserve it."
"Next time, can I try sucking your cock?" Dean asked, his words beginning to slur with exhaustion.
John stood and pulled his jeans back up. He snagged a towel from the bathroom.
"Of course, son," he assured him. He slowly wiped the come off Dean's stomach. The teen was asleep within seconds at the gentle touches.
Careful not to wake him, John pulled on a pair of boxers dark enough to hide the come still dribbling from his hole. He kissed Dean's forehead, then mouth, and sat down at the nearby table to work on the case and wait for Sam to come home.