I've been so busy writing all these Ling and Ed's that i'm hoping to get done before Christmas, that I haven't been writing much little thingies.
Le Sigh, The Yaoi Generator, strikes again!
Includes: Fuck I don't remember!
Alphonse, Hohenheim noted, was the type of boy who should (right now) have been courting young ladies, finishing school, going to dances, and living the innocent life of a teenager. He was not the type of boy to be doing this, and with his own father...
It made Hohenheim's stomach twist as he looked down at Alphonse, who had big, shining silver eyes, staring at him. Innocent, loving, and... Begging.
"Please, father..." the boy whimpered, arching his hips up to the older man's own naked body. His arms were bound at the main post of the bed by handcuffs, and legs spread so that his father could see his needy cock. "Father..." he dragged the word out as if he would die if Hohenheim didn't do something soon.
Hohenheim hestitated, "Alphonse... I...I can't." He reached out a hand to pet his son's hair reassuringly. Alphonse pressed and rubbed at the hand, like an attention-craving cat, making needy noises that caused Hohenheim to grow hard. Alphonse gave him another desperate look with his silvery eyes, before he wordlessly lifted his head up to the offered hand, caught his teeth against his father's right hand glove, and tore it off, holding it in his mouth like a puppy with a new found toy. Hohenheim gulped at the thought, but this wasn't some innocent toy, Alphonse wanted to use the glove as a sex toy, a gag.
He let out a long heavy sigh, "I... See," he said, and lowered his hand, stuffing the glove into the boy's mouth. Alphonse let out a muffled sound and Hohenheim smiled. "Better?" he asked. He saw his son's eyes dance with excitement and pleasure, before Alphonse remembered his 'role' in all this and began to "struggle," shaking his head from side to side until Hohenheim had to calm him down with gentle kisses on his collar bone.
Al's body shivered, and his stomach heaved as he breathed through his nose. Hohenheim suddenly nipped at the tender skin, causing the boy to jerk. "You wanted it rough..." he reminded the boy, and Alphonse made another sound, before nodding.
Now Hohenheim was at a lost of what to do next. The only thing he would really think of was gently rubbing his son's cock, until it couldn't become any harder. Alphonse wasn't complaining, though, he was moaning behind his gag and wiggling his hips about.
Hohenheim leaned against Alphonse's small, pale chest, kissing it, nipping at the tender skin, and feeling its softness with his cheek. Then he got a idea, something he had always done with Trisha. Trisha, who was always so innocent, that doing so could make her climax. He lifted his body so his mouth was against Alphonse's ear, licked the ear lobe, and breathed on it before speaking into it in a warm whisper. "Alphonse..." he cooed, the boy's body twitched as he continued to shiver. "Alphonse, how would you like it if I talked dirty to you...?" The cock that had been slacking in his hands instantly perked up, and Alphonse squirmed again in anticipation. Hohenheim chuckled, "Okay, son. You do know, of course, that if anyone knew about this, you and I would be in big trouble." Al moved his head in what Hohenheim only knew had to have been either a motion of 'yes' or 'no'.
"Yes, think about it. A father fucking his own son." Al moved closer to him. "This is illegal, just touching you like this is wrong." His hand had stopped rubbing Alphonse's shaft and held it in a firm grasp, squeezing and letting up with every other word. Al moaned. "Touching you like this is wrong, too..." Hohenheim explained, swooping down to lick Al's nipple. "And..." he was panting, "Like this.." his other hand found Alphonse's ass and grasped one cheek.
Hohenheim hadn't even gotten to the really dirty stuff, when Alphonse came. White liquid pooled between his legs, and Hohenheim lifted his body to go back to the task of sexing his own son. When Al saw his father looking at the liquid, he spread his legs wider, ready for the last stage of their sex. Hohenheim chuckled and shook his head. "No, no, no, Alphonse. You wanted it rough, and we like to drag things out a little longer," he said.
Al made a pleading sound like, 'But I want it now', and began to close his legs, before Hohenheim's pinned them back into place. One big hand grasped the head of Al's cock again, and started twisting it in different directions, as far as it would go without actually hurting Alphonse. The little pain the boy received was good, and Al moaned and writhed under it. The other hand started fondling his balls.
Alphonse came again, with a muffled, moaning scream, and an arch of his hips. This time Hohenheim was ready to really take him. "Now we have enough natural lubricant." The man smiled, trying to make a joke. Alphonse glared at this, eyes glazed with pleasure through it, and bumped his head on the back headboard with a loud thump. "Almost done..." Hohenheim explained, gently turning Al over.
Hohenheim ran his own cock onto Al's semen, and once it was wet enough, guided into his son with a quiet shove. It was probably a good thing Al had a gag in, because he screamed, even though his father had given him a quiet warning beforehand. The boy's muscles were tense and Hohenheim had to coax him to calm down with one hand on Al's hip, while the other gently and reassuringly rubbed his member. Al eventually calmed down, and the slow, steady pace Hohenheim was riding him at sped up. The hand on Alphonse's shaft met pace, and this time Hohenheim came into Al with his own deep-throated cry.
It took a while for the two to calm down. Hohenheim slowly pulled out of Alphonse, and the boy refused to just spit out the gag, so Hohenheim had to pull it out with his own, wet hands. It was then the father's job to clean up his son, seeing as Alphonse was exhausted to the point of not moving.
There was a little blood, which Hohenheim looked the other way at, as he tore the soaked bed sheets off and took the dry covers to drape over himself and Alphonse. As soon as he had crawled back into bed, Alphonse finally moved, to snuggle into his father's chest, murmuring a quiet (and hoarse) "thank you," before drifting off into sleep.
Hohenheim sighed. "Don't thank me, Alphonse..." he told the sleeping boy, hugging him in a very fatherly way.