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Noah tried his best to remain perfectly composed, his jaw clenched tight as Stiles’s hand continued its bold exploration beneath the table. The younger man’s fingers rubbed insistently against the seam of the sheriff’s suddenly too-tight jeans, pressing right over his sensitive hole with a teasing rhythm that sent sparks of forbidden pleasure racing up Noah’s spine. It was an incredibly dangerous game they were playing—one that had become their secret ritual over the years—but the risk only heightened the thrill. Across the table sat Chris and Alan, both deeply engaged in the case discussion, completely unaware of the heated undercurrent unfolding just a few feet away. If either man discovered what Stiles was doing to his own father right there in the open, it would shatter everything. Yet that very danger made it intoxicating.
Building on that familiar tension, their hidden encounters had always unfolded like this: stolen moments in plain sight. For years now, during late-night strategy sessions or casual briefings at the dining table, Stiles had grown bolder. He would knead and tease his father’s body while maintaining perfect eye contact with whoever else was present, his voice steady as he contributed to the conversation. The sheriff, meanwhile, fought desperately to keep his breathing even and his expression neutral, biting back any sounds that might betray the way his son’s skilled hand worked him open under the cover of the tablecloth. Far from prying eyes, yet dangerously close to exposure, Noah’s body betrayed him with every subtle shift—his hole still tender and slick from the load Stiles had pumped into him earlier that evening.
Stiles smiled smoothly, nodding as he answered a pointed question from Alan about the latest evidence. “Yeah, I think the timeline checks out if we cross-reference the security footage,” he said casually, his tone professional and focused. All the while, his hand never stopped. With practiced stealth, he slid his fingers inside his father's pants, bypassing the waistband entirely. This was new territory—Stiles had never dared to go this far during one of their group meetings. Noah’s heart hammered wildly in his chest as those warm fingers trailed down the slight trail of blondish hair leading into his crack, seeking out the still-wet, puffy entrance that bore clear evidence of their earlier encounter. When Stiles pushed a slick finger inside without warning, breaching the loosened ring of muscle, Noah had to bite down hard on his lower lip to stifle a groan. The sensation of his son’s digit stirring the cum still deep in his ass was almost too much to bear.
Overwhelmed by the intensity, Noah knew he had to act before he lost control completely. Reaching behind himself under the table with what he hoped was a natural gesture, the sheriff gently but firmly grasped Stiles’s wrist, guiding the intrusive hand out of his pants and away from his throbbing body.
“Excuse me for a moment, guys,” Noah announced, his voice steadier than he felt as he pushed his chair back. “Need to step out real quick.” Without waiting for responses, he stood up and made a beeline for the bathroom down the hall, his legs carrying him swiftly away from the table before anyone could notice the flush on his face or the slight bulge still straining against his jeans.
Once inside the small bathroom, Noah locked the door with a soft click and leaned heavily over the sink. He turned on the cold water full blast and splashed several handfuls onto his heated face, the icy shock helping to clear some of the fog of arousal clouding his mind. Droplets ran down his neck and soaked into the collar of his shirt as he stared at his reflection in the mirror—eyes dark with lingering lust, lips slightly swollen from where he’d bitten them. His ass still tingled from Stiles’s finger, the reminder of his son’s cum keeping him open and sensitive with every small movement.
Even as he tried to regain his composure, Noah’s thoughts raced back to the table and the man waiting there. Part of him wanted to stay hidden until the meeting ended, but another, deeper part—the one that had given in to this taboo relationship years ago—knew Stiles wouldn’t let the night end so simply. The sheriff wiped his face with a towel, his breath still uneven, wondering how much longer he could keep pretending everything was normal when his body was screaming for more of his son’s touch.He barely had time to steady himself against the sink before the bathroom door clicked open behind him. Only then did he feel it—Stiles pressing forward, the thick, hard length of his massive erection grinding firmly against the full, plump curves of his father’s fat ass through their clothes. The sudden, insistent pressure made Noah’s spent hole clench instinctively, still slick and sensitive from the earlier load.
Their eyes met in the mirror, and the raw hunger in Stiles’s gaze nearly undid the sheriff completely. Noah bit back a deep moan, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the sink. The younger man’s face was flushed with lust, his usual playful smirk replaced by something darker and far more possessive. Without wasting another second, Stiles reached around and shoved his father’s pants and underwear down in one swift motion, letting them pool around Noah’s ankles. The cool air hit the older man’s exposed, voluptuous cheeks and his still-leaking hole, making him shiver. All Noah could do was brace himself against the sink, praying that Chris and Alan, still seated in the other room, remained too deep in their discussion to notice the sudden absence of both father and son—or worse, to overhear the filthy sounds that were about to fill the small bathroom.
Dropping to his knees with eager hunger, Stiles wasted no time in claiming what he wanted. “Fuck, Dad… I couldn’t wait another minute to taste this delicious fat ass,” he growled, his voice low and rough with need. He spread Noah’s plump cheeks wide apart, exposing the puffy, cum-smeared hole, and dove in without hesitation. His hot, eager tongue lapped greedily at the messy entrance, slurping loudly as he devoured the evidence of his own earlier load mixed with his father’s warmth. Strong hands spanked and kneaded the soft, jiggling flesh of Noah’s voluptuous cheeks, making them ripple with every firm slap and squeeze. The sheriff had to bite down hard on his forearm to muffle the desperate moans threatening to escape, his body trembling under the relentless assault of Stiles’s skilled mouth.
Even though every nerve in his body craved more of that filthy indulgence, Noah knew they were running on borrowed time. “Stiles… we have to hurry,” he hissed breathlessly, though part of him ached to let his son keep eating him out for hours—just like he usually loved after getting fucked and filled. “They’re right outside. We can’t risk it.” Stiles gave one last deep, obscene lick before rising to his feet, his eyes burning with lust as they locked again in the mirror.
The head of Stiles’s massive beer-can cock—thick, veined, and rock-hard—pressed insistently against Noah’s slick, twitching entrance. The older man hissed sharply at the reflection of his son, bracing his hands firmly on the sink. “Do it,” he growled, low voice thick with desperation. “Fuck me.”
Stiles didn’t need to be told twice. With a powerful thrust, he slammed all twelve inches of his enormous cock deep into his father’s greedy hole in one brutal stroke, bottoming out and forcing a choked cry from Noah’s throat. He immediately set a punishing, relentless pace, hips snapping forward hard enough to make Noah’s fat ass cheeks clap loudly with every devastating thrust. One of Stiles’s hands flew up to cover his father’s mouth, muffling the moans spilling out, while the other wrapped tightly around Noah’s leaking cock, stroking him in time with the savage fucking. Leaning forward, Stiles sank his teeth into the older man’s shoulder to stifle his own deep groans of pleasure, the wet sounds of skin slapping skin echoing obscenely in the small bathroom.
The pace was fast, dirty, and overwhelming. It didn’t take long before Noah’s body tensed, his walls clenching violently around his son’s pistoning cock as he came hard, shooting thick ropes of cum over Stiles’s pumping fist and the edge of the sink. Moments later, Stiles buried himself to the hilt and unloaded, pumping a fresh, hot load of cum deep into his father’s already overflowing hole with a muffled groan against Noah’s shoulder.
Breathing heavily, they lingered for just a few seconds to catch their breath. They quickly cleaned up as best they could—wiping away evidence with paper towels and straightening their clothes—before slipping quietly back into the main room. To their relief, Chris and Alan were still fully absorbed in the scattered papers Stiles had stolen from the FBI, discussing timelines and connections without missing a beat. It was as if neither man had even noticed the father and son disappearing together.
The sheriff began to relax slightly, hoping the riskiest part of the night was over. But as soon as he sat back down at the table, he felt it again—Stiles’s hand boldly sliding under the table to rest possessively on his ass, fingers teasing and kneading the plump cheeks through his pants. The game was starting all over again, and Noah knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
⛓️💥
Two hours later, after Chris and Deaton had finally left the house and the front door clicked shut, the tension that had built up all evening exploded into raw, unrestrained passion.
Noah lay face-down on his large bed, completely naked, his powerful body trembling with overwhelming pleasure. The sheriff moaned shamelessly like a bitch in heat, his deep voice breaking into desperate, guttural cries that filled the bedroom. His huge, manly ass cheeks—thick, firm, and lightly dusted with hair—bounced rhythmically with every powerful thrust from behind. Stiles was buried deep inside him, fucking his own father for the third time that night, their bodies slick with sweat and the evidence of their previous rounds.
Even after the intense encounter in the bathroom and the cold water that had barely cooled his arousal, Noah had known this was inevitable once they were alone. The moment the guests departed, Stiles had dragged him upstairs with hungry urgency. Now, the younger man’s massive cock—thick, veined, and a full twelve inches of delicious meat—stretched Noah’s willing hole wide open again. The sheriff’s puffy, cum-slicked entrance took every inch greedily, clenching around his son’s shaft as it plunged in and out with wet, obscene sounds.
Stiles gripped his father’s hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft, meaty flesh of those bouncing cheeks. He watched with dark delight as his huge cock disappeared completely between Noah’s spread ass, only to pull back glistening with their combined juices before slamming home once more. “Fuck, Dad… look at you,” Stiles growled, his voice low and filthy. “Taking your son’s big cock so deep again. This greedy hole was made for me, wasn’t it? Still so open and sloppy from the loads I already pumped into you tonight.”
Noah pushed back against the thrusts, his moans turning into broken whimpers as pleasure coursed through him. “Yes—fuck, Stiles… harder, son. Don’t hold back. Breed your old man’s ass again. I need it.” His words dripped with raw incestuous need, years of their secret taboo relationship pouring out in every filthy syllable.
The dirty talk between them only fueled the fire, making their forbidden connection burn even hotter. Stiles leaned forward, pressing his chest against his father’s broad back. He nipped at Noah’s ear while continuing to pound into him relentlessly. “That’s right, Sheriff. Moan like the slutty daddy you are for me. Everyone thinks you’re so tough and in control… but we both know you bend over and spread these fat cheeks for your boy’s dick whenever I want. You love feeling your son’s twelve inches rearranging your guts, don’t you?”
“Yes! God, yes, I do,” Noah gasped, his voice hoarse and desperate. He reached back with one hand, grabbing Stiles’s thigh to pull him even deeper. “I’m your hole, Stiles. Your personal cum dump. Fill me up again—knock me up with your load like the good father-fucking son you are.” His massive ass jiggled with every brutal snap of Stiles’s hips, the bed creaking loudly beneath them.
Lost in the rhythm of their third round, neither man cared about anything else in the world. Stiles straightened up again, spanking one of those bouncing cheeks hard enough to leave a red mark before gripping it and spreading Noah wider. He admired the sight of his thick cock stretching his father’s hole obscenely, the ring of muscle clinging tightly to every vein as it slid in and out. “Such a perfect fucking pussy for your son. I’m gonna flood you again, Dad. Gonna make sure my cum is leaking out of you for days.”
Noah cried out in ecstasy, his body shaking as another powerful thrust hit his prostate dead-on.
“Do it, baby. Cum in Daddy’s ass. Claim what’s yours.” The air was thick with the scent of sex, their moans, and the wet slap of skin against skin.
Driven by his father’s desperate plea, Stiles felt his own climax surging forward with unstoppable force.
Noah’s words—raw and dripping with need—pushed Stiles right to the edge. The younger man growled deep in his throat, his hips snapping forward with renewed ferocity. He drove every thick inch of his twelve-inch cock into his father’s greedy hole, the swollen head battering Noah’s prostate with merciless precision. The sheriff’s massive, slightly hairy ass cheeks rippled and clapped loudly with each punishing thrust, his strong body trembling uncontrollably beneath his son.
The filthy encouragement from his own father only made Stiles fuck him harder, chasing that shared release.
“Fuck yeah, Daddy… you want your boy’s load? Gonna fill this sloppy daddy-cunt until it’s overflowing,” Stiles snarled, his voice rough with lust. One hand gripped Noah’s hip hard enough to bruise while the other delivered a sharp smack to the jiggling cheek, watching the flesh bounce. “You’re such a perfect cumslut for your son. Taking my cock like you were made for it—moaning and begging while I breed you raw.”
Noah pushed back eagerly, meeting every thrust with shameless enthusiasm. His hole clenched rhythmically around the massive shaft stretching him wide, still slick and open from the previous two loads. “Yes—give it to me, Stiles! Pump your Daddy full of that hot cum. I want to feel my own son flooding my guts again. Breed me deep, baby… make me yours!” His moans grew louder and more broken, turning into high-pitched whines as pleasure overwhelmed him. The wet, obscene sounds of their fucking echoed through the bedroom—skin slapping skin, the squelch of cum and lube, and the creaking of the bedframe.
Lost in the heat of their taboo passion, Stiles felt his balls tighten as the orgasm finally crashed over him. With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt inside his father’s ass. Thick ropes of hot cum erupted from his pulsing cock, painting Noah’s insides white for the third time that night.
“Take it all, Dad—fuck! I’m cumming so hard in you… my own father’s tight fucking hole!” He kept grinding deep, milking every last drop while his hand reached around to stroke Noah’s neglected, leaking cock.
The intense sensation of being filled once more sent Noah spiraling into his own powerful climax. His body seized up, hole spasming wildly around Stiles’s throbbing shaft as he shot thick ropes of cum onto the sheets beneath him.
“Oh god—Stiles! Yes, son… filling Daddy up so good!” he cried out, voice hoarse and wrecked with ecstasy.
As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, the two men remained locked together, panting and sweating in the afterglow. Stiles collapsed forward, draping his body over Noah’s broad back and pressing soft, possessive kisses along his father’s neck and shoulder. His cock stayed buried deep inside, twitching with the last spurts of his release while Noah’s hole continued to flutter around him, greedily keeping every drop where it belonged.
Even in the quiet moments that followed, their forbidden connection burned as strong as ever.
“You’re so good to me, Dad,” Stiles murmured against his skin, voice low and affectionate yet still laced with dirty satisfaction. “This ass is mine. Always has been.”
Noah let out a tired, contented chuckle, reaching back to thread his fingers through Stiles’s hair. “Damn right it is, son. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The night was far from over, and both men knew another round would soon follow— their hunger for each other seemingly endless.