Otto and his dad, Wolf, have been in a monogamous and emotional marriage for years, just the two of them. All of that changed on a hot summer night six months ago when Otto’s son, Delfin, turned eighteen and wanted to join his father and grandfather in their special bond.
It started with Delfin’s first kiss, then his first mutual masturbation, and finally his first oral experience. But the more this hot twink loses innocence, the more he wants it.
Now it’s Christmas Day and Delfin is ready for the ultimate experience: to lose his anal virginity.
And there are only two men in his life that he wants to share it with.
Christmas Day with the Virgin Butt is a 4,500-word short story.
“When can we…open the presents?” Delfin said in his youthful voice, looking at me and Dad.
I gazed at my beautiful boy as I lay on his left side. He looked just like his estranged Brazilian mom: honey-tan skin, honey-colored eyes, and thick hair so beautifully black that it shone like silk. Despite being mixed with German from Dad’s side and French from Mom’s, he looked more Latino.
“We’ll open them soon, don’t worry,” Dad said in his German accent, brushing Delfin’s hair with his knuckles. He’d been more affectionate with him than ever before, like the two of them had grown closer than I’d realized. Honestly, I was glad, and it was beautiful to watch.
I remembered coming home very early from work a few weeks ago, and the two of them had been in our bedroom with the door closed, making noises like they’d been lifting something heavy. Flustered, Dad had demanded that I didn’t go in and that I wait instead. Apparently, it’d been my Christmas gift, which I’d open soon enough. How sweet that they’d wanted to surprise me. They’d insisted on showering right after, and we’d spent the rest of the day together.
I stroked Delfin’s cheek. Growing up, he’d been different from many other kids. His maturation process hadn’t caught up fast enough. However, his slight speech impediment hadn’t stopped him from learning how to speak well because of me and Dad being rigorous about it. Even though he was still young at heart, Dad and I made sure never to treat him as if he were different because he’d never be in our eyes. His struggle with speaking longer phrases to where he had to break them up a bit didn’t matter at all. He still managed very well, and I was always proud of him.
After loving on my beautiful son, I rubbed Dad’s chest, his graying-blond hairs tickling my knuckles. His furry wolf body never failed to captivate me in all the horny ways my moderately-hairy otter body could respond. He stroked my brown hair, our green eyes locking with one another with the kind of desire whose flame would never be put out. He was the sexiest man I knew, whose German name, Wolf, naturally fit him. He looked younger for fifty-eight, but it didn’t matter if he didn’t. He’d always be my king. He’d always be the man I worshiped every single day of my life as the patriarch of the Melker family. I, of course, would always be his prince.
Or maybe he should now be the emperor, I the king, and Delfin the prince. Truthfully, the idea of just the two of us together as husbands had been morphing into an unexpected intergenerational triad, and we wholeheartedly welcomed it. We only hoped that Delfin would want to be a permanent part of it, but we knew he had to decide that for himself.
Dad reached for my average-size cock and stroked it, prompting me to stroke his seven inches of uncut man meat that was nice and thick. We jerked each other for a moment while Delfin gave us a horny smile, his own stiffy longer and thicker than ours.