Summary
Tranter drugged his father to fulfill his desire. Explicit
The drug worked well.
Even when Tranter sneaked his hands under his father's sleeping robe, his father only sighed in his drug-induced sleep. Tranter's pace raced when he caressed his father's rough skin underneath, memorizing the number of imperfections and small scars, a testimony to his father's previous rough life, His father would gently put his hands away if he was awake, and Tranter got a thrill how he was free to touch now.
He pulled open father's robe, and went straight to his target. When his father practised sparring with him and pressed his whole weight on him, Tranter fantasized about the vague outline of his father's organ underneath. It featured in too much of his dream and fantasy. He wanted his father to choke him, to made his throat sore for days, to fill him to the fullest.
He swallowed as much as he could, enjoying the delicious ache of his jaw, the fullness of his mouth, and the saltiness of the whole length. Father would be furious when he woke up, so he'd better get as much as he could.
His father panted, and his muscled tensed up under Tranter's hands. Tranter reluctantly let it go to achieve his final goal. He knelt, breathed deeply, sitting down to get his father inside him.
He sighed at the burn and pain, sinking further and rode in earnest. He was filled to utmost, pierced into half, but what aroused him most was his father's face full of desire. Before his climax he knew he would drug his father again to enjoy this again
(His father raged when he woke up to Tranter riding him, and retreated to his pigeon-house for two days. The bite Tranter endured to lure him out was nasty, but now his father was gently cleaning his wound, turning a blind eye when he bumped his legs against him, so it was totally worth it.)
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/9824330.
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