Chapter 3
Oliver should have learned from the couch incident what a bad idea it was to sleep so close to Vincent.
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He could feel his morning wood pressing up against his father's back. They were in the same position they had fallen asleep in, only now, Oliver's left leg was trapped between two others. He could tell that Vincent was still asleep from the slow rise and fall beneath his hand and the soft snoring. It must have been quite early considering his father usually got up around nine in the morning on weekdays as he worked from home. He breathed in the scent of his dad's shampoo, it smelled like apples. Cute.
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He wondered if it'd be bad if he just-
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His hips slowly pressed against his father's lower back before gently rocking back and forth. Yeah, this was bad, but it felt so good. Even more so considering he hadn't touched or been touched by anyone else sexually in several months. This wasn't right, he should stop, but his body wouldn't listen. He could feel precum dribbling from his cock as his thumb stroked the fine hairs below his father's navel.
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His eye's flew open in shock as Vincent ground back against him. Was he awake? Or was he still asleep and didn't know what he was doing? Oliver bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a moan at the sensation. This couldn't be happening. It shouldn't be. Suddenly the hand that lay limply on top of his was now gripping it, pushing it lower to the bulge in his dad's pajama pants.
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"Oh shit, you're awake..." He hadn't necessarily meant to speak out loud, but he was not expecting what happened. His voice was gruff from sleep.
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Vincent let out an amused huff, though Oliver was sure the man was flushed to the core. "Well, you did wake me up." He voice was also quiet and full of sleep.
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"Sorry," he was, but this turn of events was certainly better than he could have ever imagined. His fingers hesitantly trailed up and down the clothed hard on under them. "I- Are you sure?" He hoped so, because, God, did he want it.
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"I wouldn't have moved your hand if I wasn't." Vincent assured after hesitating briefly, but it was nice to have verbal confirmation. Especially since he felt bad for how this started.
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Oliver nodded, his father's hair tickling his nose, chin, and, lips from the action. "Okay." He relocated his hand to the waistband of his dad's pants, before slipping beneath it, gripping his clothed member. His father gasped and his body jerked back into Oliver's bigger one. He held in his groan of pleasure from the action and spoke again. "So, this is okay too, right?"
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He could feel Vincent take a deep breath, hair tickling his face again as the older man nodded "ye-yeah."
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Oliver continued the slow movements of his hand, relishing in the sounds the followed. He wanted to make Vincent feel good. To hopefully not regret the act they were currently committing when they were finished.
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He could feel a wet spot beginning to form in the briefs beneath his fingers as precum leaked from his father's cock. He licked his lips as his mouth suddenly dried from anticipation before his hand drifted to the hem of his dad's underwear. He heard the sound of the man's breath hitch as his fingers dipped inside, teasingly brushing against the head of his member. Vincent's body shuddered against his own as he rubbed the slit momentarily before gently spreading the slick precum along the rest of his rigid cock.
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Oliver wanted to say something. God, did he want to tease the man trapped in his embrace, but he didn't want to scare him away. As far as Oliver was aware, his father didn't often engage in sexual activities with men, let alone incest. He occasionally seen the man flirting with women who approached him outside of the house, but that was about it. His voice could set him off. So, he'd stay quiet. If there is a next time, he was fully prepared to let loose. And how he hoped there'd be a next time.
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Vincent moaned as Oliver's thumb massaged the underside of his shaft and gripped the wrist of said hand, but not pushing it away. Oliver could feel his own cock twitch as he felt his dad's self control slowly dwindling away as he lost himself to pleasure.
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He shifted and freed his right arm from beneath the warm body, removing his boxer briefs with slight difficulty due to the position. The older man's body tensed when he felt his hard member against his bare back as Oliver tossed his underwear somewhere on the floor to be found later. The man almost immediately relaxed when his cock was gripped firmly and stroked, sinking in into the bed with a soft moan.
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Oliver nuzzled the dark locks in front his face before nearly jumping out of his skin as his own cock was suddenly grasped. A startled moan rumbled from within him and he barely stopped his hips from bucking. The warmth of his father's hand felt too good, especially knowing who it belonged to. He couldn't imagine what it'd feel like to be buried deep within him, in a hotter and tighter space. He wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back if the time came. Hell, just the thought had him spreading his precum along his dad's back.
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He groaned low and moved both hands to Vincent's hips, abruptly changing their position. His father gripped Oliver's forearms to steady himself as he now lay on top of his son, back still pressed to his chest. Though, now, their faces were right next to each other to save Oliver's dick from getting crushed in his haste.
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Oliver's heart skipped a beat as he felt Vincent's breath ghost across the left side of his lips. Would kissing be too much? Probably, he concluded. He wouldn't do it now unless his father initiated it. Although, he'd probably be holding his breath waiting on the shier man to take the initiative.
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Gaining back his focus, Oliver pushed down his dad's two articles of clothing, only being able to get them down mid-thigh from their new position. Even worse, his cock now sat on top of the other's and he thought he might cum then and there just from the feeling. He felt fucking overwhelmed. He didn't let that deter him as he eagerly went back to stroking his father with his left hand, reveling at the sight of the man throwing his head back over his shoulder.
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Taking a risk, he leaned in, lips brushing against the taut neck in his face. It was a blank canvas begging to be marked. His tongue swiped across the creamy skin as he gave gave a squeeze to the shaft in his hand.
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"O-Ollie..." Vincent moaned, bucking his hips slightly into his son's hand and tilting his head to the side, subconsciously giving Oliver more access.
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Hearing his nickname only spurred him on, encouraging him to add his own leaking member to his grasp with a groan and shudder, their precum making their cocks glide against each other with ease. As he stroked them to completion, he placed a few kisses against Vincent's neck before sucking and nipping in a couple different spots. It was sure to leave marks, but that was exactly what he wanted. He was staking his claim, too many times had he become angry watching women compliment his father on his eyes to then lead him into a conversation full of flirting.
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Vincent gripped his son's forearms tighter before moaning wantonly in his ear, driving him closer to his climax. Oliver felt the man's cock pulse beneath his own and against his fingers, speeding up his movements. He removed his right hand from his father's hip, gliding it up his fit body before thumbing and tugging the corresponding nipple.
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"Hng!" His father's back suddenly arched away from his body as he let out a shocked moan. His release splattered across his front and even hit his chin and Oliver's cheek. Fuck, that's sexy as hell.
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Oliver couldn't stop himself from thrusting into his hand a couple of times before he too climaxed with a groan, cum landing on his dad who still lay atop him, struggling to catch his breath.
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That just happened.
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This wasn't just another wet dream. He could feel his father weighing his down, chest rising and falling under his hand that lay on his lightly furred chest.
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This wasn't another one of those times where he was daydreaming at the table only to become conscious of the fact that he had an aching boner for his father who remained unaware as he sat across from him, eating breakfast.
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That just happened.
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Now what? Would his father be angry? Ashamed just as he once was? He wouldn't blame him, but couldn't deny that it wouldn't hurt to be rejected after what just happened between them. Would he kick him out? Disown him? He didn't think he could handle it if it got that far. Why would he though? Surely he-
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"Um... I think we need to talk." Vincent's voice cut through the panic that was suddenly waging war in Oliver's mind. His son hadn't even noticed that the man had slid away from him and out of the bed, back facing him with his pajama pants back on his hips.
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Oliver swallowed thickly, suddenly wishing he hadn't tossed his underwear earlier. He felt bare and vulnerable. He wiped his hand across his wet cheek, nodding mutely before realized his father couldn't see him. "R-Right..."
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"I'm going to shower, you should probably do the same." His dad stated before disappearing into his master bathroom without looking back.
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Oliver sighed deeply as he rubbed a shaky hand over the clean side of his face before sitting up in the mess of a bed.
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Damn it.