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Dad Son Incest Mega-Bundle: 16 Taboo Tales of Dads Pounding Their Sons

Posted on September 7, 2019September 7, 2019 by indieerotica

Twinks look up to older men and often idolize them. For some twinks, the older man they most admire — the one they want desperately to get pounded by — is their father. In this mega-bundle of 16 previously-published dad-son incest stories, you’ll find exactly what you need to get off.

From sensual and loving dad-son encounters to extreme kinks including fisting, piss, bondage, and gangbangs, this collection has it all.

Included in this taboo collection are the following stories:
– Spanking My Naughty Boy
– Dad Took My Virginity
– Seducing My Son
– Seducing My Daddies
– Punished By Daddy
– At The Gloryhole with Dad
– Dominated By Dad
– Disciplined By My Dad And My Principal
– Father Son Bondage
– Seduced By My Ex-Con Father
– Taking My Dad’s Hot Load
– Drinking My Dad’s Piss
– Watching Gay Porn With My Dad
– Tag-Teamed By My Dad And My Uncle
– Fisted By Daddy
– Gangbanged By My Dad And His Friends

This 63,000-word mega-bundle is exactly what you’ve secretly been fantasizing about.

Publisher Note:
These stories were previously published individually as well as in the following collections: “Dad Son Sex Secrets”, “Dominating Daddies”, “Loving Daddies”, and “Kinky Daddies”.

Gay Piss Play Mega-Bundle: 9 Hot Gay Watersports Sex Stories

Posted on September 7, 2019September 7, 2019 by indieerotica

Piss play during gay sex can be incredibly erotic.

It’s a very base act, something many people would find too demeaning or dirty to think about. But those who are into piss LOVE it. It makes sex raunchier, more taboo, kinkier… better!

From young frat brothers getting wet and wild to a young man discovering there’s no shame in wanting to be pissed on to an intimate father-son bonding experience, this 42,000-word mega-bundle collects all of Master Dominic’s previously-published piss-themed stories, including:

– Pissed On By The Bully
– Human Urinal
– Golden Showers
– Frat House Piss Party
– Pissing My Pants in Public
– Cruising for Piss
– Trucker Piss
– Pissing My Diaper
– Drinking My Dad’s Piss

This taboo bundle is exactly what you need to explore your own dirty desires.

Publisher Note:
These stories were each published individually as well as in the following collections: “Piss-Loving Boys” and “Gay Piss Play”. Drinking My Dad’s Piss appeared in the “Kinky Daddies” collection.

Becoming My Dad’s Slut Son: A Dad/Son Gay Incest Story

Posted on September 7, 2019April 4, 2020 by indieerotica

In a wild afternoon that seems almost too crazy to be real, Colin has sex with his father. Not only is it Colin’s first time with a man, it’s his first time having sex ever. His dad took his virginity. More than that, his dad opened his eyes to all of the incredible pleasures that he can pursue.

The only problem? Since that wild day, Colin’s dad is barely speaking to him. He knows his dad enjoyed it and he’s obviously having trouble reconciling what they’ve done, but Colin can’t understand why his dad doesn’t want to use his butt again. As days pass, Colin gets more and more desperate. He’s willing to do anything to get his dad to throw morals away.

Finally, he hatches the ultimate crazy idea, an idea that could get him kicked out of the house. But Colin will do anything — even if it means being the bratty son manipulating his father into sex.

Becoming My Dad’s Slut Son is a 11,500-word story and picks up from the events of My Son’s First Time.

My dick was already soft as the door slammed shut. I lay there with my pants off still, wondering what to do.

I had more calculus homework, enough to last all evening. I went to my desk, still with no pants on. Opening my math book, I couldn’t focus. I tugged on my limp dick instead, thinking about what I’d done with my dad and how badly I wanted to get that back.

The next thing I knew, I was clicking at my computer instead. I had a search window open and was typing in “dad son fucking”. The images that came up got me hard. I ended up on blogs and blog feeds. Some even had stories on them.

My dick was fully stiff now. I was jerking it, as I scrolled through images, read some of the stories. Shit, these stories were explicit. Sons begged their dads to get fucked. In one picture, a boy who looked a lot like me was on his knees, and a burly man who was bulkier than dad was behind him, his cock angled toward the boy’s hole. The boy was spreading his cheeks wide and looking back over his shoulder.

“Is this what you want, Daddy?” the caption read.

“Oh yeah, son. You make your Daddy so stiff.”

“Use my hole for that stiff Daddy dick.”

“You’ll make me shoot out all my cum if I do.”

“Dump your cum all inside me. Use me, Daddy.”

Fuck, that got me so hard, reading it, looking at the pictures, scrolling through more. I kept jerking, and pleasure built up in my balls. I read more stories, link-hopping from blog to blog, turned on even more each time I read how each son had no problem telling his dad he wanted to get his boy hole used, how the dad told him how much he wanted to use him.

Fuck, why couldn’t Dad do that to me? Why did I have to be so quiet and awkward around him? Why couldn’t I be like those sons who were begging as they spread their holes, raised their legs, sat their plump butt on their dad’s stiff prick?

That tingling in my balls was building, as I kept on clicking on those images, reading more stories, kept wishing it was me in those positions. Instead of my hand, it was my dad’s hand on my cock. I was begging him to make me cum, and he told me I was a good boy, like the dads in the images I was clicking through.

Holy shit, my cock exploded so fast with pleasure. It made my eyes water.

It all happened to fast I didn’t have time to think about the mess. My load shot in thick white streams up, all over my keyboard, shot after shot. One hit the monitor, dripping down the image of two thick, meaty boy buns. My heart hammered, as I shot and shot. Holy fuck, my computer would be ruined after this, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to shoot all this juice out, keep thinking of my dad’s hand on my cock instead.

What a fucking mess. My balls were empty, sticky white stuff oozing down on my knuckles now, pleasure gone. Damn, I wished Dad would come in right now and find me.

Cruising for Fart Sex

Posted on September 7, 2019 by indieerotica

Jessie is cruising in the mall bathroom, desperate for a little sexy fun to spice up his Monday evening. He’s got the stall with the gloryhole and all he has to do is wait until someone enters the stall on the other side.

Someone comes in and takes the stall, but Jessie’s erotic hopes are dashed when he realizes the other guy isn’t cruising. Rather, the other guy has a bad case of noxious gas and needs to get it all out.

As Jessie sits in the stall, contemplating what to do, he realizes that instead of being disgusted at being surrounded by horrific farts… he’s actually being turned on. This could be the Monday night fun he’s been looking for.

Taking a risk, he makes a dangerous proposition to the farting man…

Cruising for Fart Sex is a 5,300 word short story.

The door to the men’s room clatters open.

I quickly shut off the phone and shove it into the pocket of my jeans, still pooled around my ankles. I listen intently to decipher if this guy is here to take a piss at the urinals or if he’s gonna come in the stall next to me — the only other stall here — to stick his dick in my face.

My heart beat kicks up a notch when my stall door rattles urgently and he lets out a groan of discomfort, then he barrels into the stall next to me. Given the urgency, I doubt he’s here for a blowjob. Dude’s gotta take a shit.

It takes all of my willpower not to lean forward and down to look at him through the gloryhole. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t make a few other discreet peeks. As he pulls down his pants and underwear and sits on the toilet with a loud clatter, his foot ends up under the stall divider between us. I gawp at it — a dirty work boot in, what, size thirteen?

As if my hand and cock have a mind of their own, I start stroking as I imagine the beefy, sweaty, hairy, masculine construction worker that’s likely on the other side — and the giant cock he’s probably packing in his pants.

He lets out a groan of discomfort and then — prappp-fffttttt-papapapa-ffttttt— he farts so loud it echoes in the bowl and the walls almost shake. And then like a nuclear bomb, the stench hits me. Holy fuck. That reek could peel the paint off the walls.

And in that, I’m reminded of when I was particularly drunk at college last year. My roommate and I had come back from having beers and burritos, so not only were we drunk, but we had gas like nothing else. And being the kinky frat pigs we are, we dared each other to sniff each other’s farts. One thing led to another and soon we took turns going balls deep in each other as we farted on each other’s dicks. It was the filthiestsex I’d ever had, the kind that I would always remember and would probably never repeat.

Swallowing The Cop’s Farts

Posted on August 24, 2019August 24, 2019 by indieerotica

Nick is trying to sell some concert tickets he can’t use when he gets picked up by some power-hungry cop who accuses him of scalping. If that wasn’t bad enough, now he’s handcuffed in the back of the cop car and the cop isn’t driving anywhere. He’s just sitting there, farting. The car is filling up with his noxious fumes.

Enough is enough and Nick asks him to stop. But this power hungry cop doesn’t take orders from a handcuffed twink like Nick, nor does he take kindly to Nick himself. What ensues is a sexual encounter that awakens Nick’s most deepest, darkest, and shameful desires — fart swallowing, sexual humiliation, and total subservience to this powerful Alpha Male.

It’s degrading. But it turns Nick on like nothing else ever has.

5,400 word short story

Cops stink. Literally. No wonder people call them pigs.

I shuffle in the back seat of the cop car, my hands awkwardly cuffed behind me. In the front seat is some muscle-bound but air-headed cop with a bad case of farts.

All of this is because I tried to sell some concert tickets I couldn’t use — this cop, who obviously needed something better to do, accused me of violating some obscure scalping law. I’m no fool, I know my rights, so I stood up to him and told him as much.

And a moment later I was pinned to the dirty concrete, cuffed, and accused of resisting an officer of the law. A moment after that I was thrown in the back of this power-hungry pig’s cop car. Now I’m stuck here while he ignores me and continues to fart, stinking up the car.

He lets out a long squeaker — he’s not even bothering to hide it anymore — and soon I’m gagging for oxygen. What makes it worse is that we’re not even going anywhere. We’re just sitting in the car, stewing in his noxious ass fumes in the middle of a sunny and sweltering July afternoon, ten feet from where I was arrested for scalping.

I start breathing through my mouth to avoid his noxious farts and the growing stink of his B.O. I can’t inhale it anymore or I’m going to vomit. I watch him in the rear-view mirror, trying to figure out if he’s enjoying this or something.

“Can we crack a couple windows open?” I ask, trying and failing to keep the irritation out of my voice. He shifts his eyes to glare at me in the mirror. “Please?”

In response, he leans to one side and lifts an ass cheek off his leather seat and lets a loud, vibrating fart rip through the air.

Pra-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-paaapppp…

“Fucking hell,” I mutter.

…ppaaaap-pa-pa-pa-praaaap…

“Surely this counts as cruel and unusual punishment,” I mutter, ensuring I’m loud enough for him to hear. When I glance up at the rear-view mirror, I find him glaring at me. “What?” I say, putting far too much challenge into that word than I really should.

“I can do worse,” he says.

I roll my eyes and look away.

“Hey!” he shouts. For some odd reason, the power in that one word sends a shiver through my body. I look back to the rear-view mirror and meet his glare. “Don’t look away unless I tell you to. Understood?”

Something has shifted between us. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is suddenly different. He’s got more power and authority and I, well … his glare is doing something to me. Like, in my pants.

I watch a lot of Dom/sub porn, like, the kind where the sub is a beta fag, whose whole existence is dedicated to pleasing his Alpha and gratefully taking the abuse that his Alpha dishes out. But porn is different than real life. Right?

“I said, understood?” He hardens his glare and he almost bites off those words.

I swallow, then say, “Yes.”

“Yes … what?”

What the hell have I gotten into? I’ve watched enough of that kinky shit on PornHub to know the answer he’s looking for. “Yes, Sir.”

His glare softens slightly. “Good fag.”

My Son’s First Time: A Dad/Son Gay Incest Story

Posted on August 11, 2019April 4, 2020 by indieerotica

Rick is a single dad and is concerned about his son Colin. Though Colin's an adult now, in many ways he's still rather juvenile. Having failed calculus twice, he's still in high school. But more concerning, Rick is sure that Colin is inexperienced in certain ways of sex, and even self-pleasure.

On a hot summer day, the kind of day where Rick and Colin would spend the afternoon lounging by the backyard pool, Colin seems different somehow. They play their usual pool games, but Colin takes it a step further, demanding certain closeness and body touches from his father.

Rick struggles to maintain that hard line between father and son. But despite his best efforts, a different hardness comes between them, a hardness that leads to Rick not thinking straight.

The games escalate until it's no longer a game, and Rick is afraid that soon he won't be able to hold back on that hard line no father should cross…that soon, he'll be instructing Colin on those lessons about his body he's been ignoring for far too long…

My Son's First Time is a 13,000-word short story.

Colin slides back down, pressing his butt hard against my crotch. This time there’s no denying how deliberate the motion is, no denying the pleasure that throbs in my shaft.

“You need good leverage, Dad,” he says. “Don’t worry, it’s just a game.”

Just a game. That’s what I try to tell myself, as the dull pleasure builds, as I don’t pull my hard cock away like I should.

Just a game. I need to flip him over. That’s all. I ignore the pleasure, leaning forward, using my leverage. I’ll flip him over so fast, this will be over so soon, and we’ll never talk about this.

He’s moving. There, just like I wanted. Except…

He flexes his butt tight against my shaft. The way I’m leaning over him, the length is buried between his cheeks. I’ll have him flipped over in one swift motion now, but my heart is pounding, and a part of me wants to stop, just for a moment. Stop and feel those meaty, smooth buns flexing around my shaft, wrap my arms around him and tell him to keep squeezing just like that, keep squeezing until my hot load blasts out, squirting through my shorts, carried away on the water. Just this once, then we’d never talk about it again, we’d go back to our beers and the rest of our day. I’d get off and wouldn’t have these stupid thoughts anymore, and I’d masturbate every day to keep these hormones in check.

Just this once. Yeah, all I have to do is hold him here, press a little with my dick, spike this pleasure higher. I can already tell by how my heart’s pounding and the shaft is throbbing that it would take just a few seconds, just a bit of pressure, a few covert thrusts, and I’d shoot my jizz out through my shorts, empty these fucking balls and get back on track.

Sniffing the Jock’s Farts

Posted on August 11, 2019 by indieerotica

Jacob likes raunchy sex. The more demeaning, the better. He gets off when he’s used by an Alpha and then discarded when his usefulness is finished.

Jacob also likes “Muscles”, the Alpha God at the gym. He’s the kind of guy that would use and discard a guy like Jacob. However, Jacob’s gaydar tells him that Muscles is straight. But Jacob being Jacob, this just turns him on all the more.

So when it’s a quiet night at the gym and Jacob and Muscles are the only men there, he follows the Alpha God into the change room. In a moment of weakness, Jacob gives in to his basest desires... and he’s caught by Muscles.

Instead of punishment and a punch to the face, Muscles gives Jacob everything that Jacob has ever wanted, demeaning him in ways that Jacob didn’t know he needed. And the highlight of it all for Jacob? Muscles’ ripe, juicy farts.

Sniffing the Jock's Farts is a 4,800-word short story.

Muscles seems to get the hint, seems to know what drives my faggy desires. He angles his hips a bit, causing his deliciously hairy ass cheeks to spread and expose his tight, manly hole. It’s tightly knotted; this Alpha God has obviously never bottomed. If I were to show him my hole, he would see what a well-used ass looks like. We’re so different. We’re so perfectly matched.

I stretch my tongue up, trying to reach that amazing and perfect knot of flesh. Just as the tip of my tongue touches it, Muscles flinches.

“Everything okay, Sir?” I ask.

He looks over his shoulder at me, almost shyly. “How much of a pig are you, fag?”

My heart does a pitter-patter of excitement. “Very much so, Sir.”

“Good.”

He squats closer to my face, his tight asshole right in front of my mouth and nose. I stick my tongue out and caress the perfect flesh, lapping up more sweat. Here, though, the taste is drastically different. It tastes like he hasn’t washed his ass in days. I’m tasting things that would turn off most men — even most fags — but for me it drives me up the fucking wall with horniness. I have to fight with myself to not use my hands to grab those perfect, muscular ass cheeks and part them so that I can dig my tongue ever deeper into him. I have to obey the no touching rule.

I just wish I could get more.

Then Master lets out a grunt. I pause in my licking, uncertain of what’s coming next. Muscles’ asshole quivers, then opens.

Braaa-aa-aa-aa-appp-pp-pp

He farts, letting loose a long, noisy, filthy one. I raise my head and bury my nose in his crack, right against his hole. I huff that fart, fill my lungs with his stench. It smells like the men’s room at a greasy taco dive, the kind where the beans run right through you. And I love it.

Becoming The Young Boy Again: A Hypno Roleplay Dad-Son Master-Student Seduction Novel

Posted on January 21, 2019February 18, 2020 by indieerotica

Ethan wants to be young again, the son who his Daddy seduces. He wants to be a student whose teacher takes him as his slave and teaches him the secrets of his body. Now, thanks to an advanced hypno program, he will have it all, and more. He will never be the same…

Becoming the Young Boy Again is a 54,000-word gay erotic novel full of taboo roleplay, domination and submission, and kinky, deviant desires — even a light sprinkle of piss play. This book will make you cum. Multiple times. Do not read this book with friends in the room. Unless you want to make them cum too.

Ethan’s first day of high school was almost normal.

His dad wakes him up at seven. It’s a ritual between them. The room is dark and Ethan is curled up under the covers, then hall light slivers into his room and soon the man’s muscular form looms over him.

“It’s that time,” his dad says. Then he reaches out and strokes Ethan’s cheek. His hand is like a rock that flexes. It’s rough with calluses from the 500lbs he deadlifts at the gym. When his fingers dust Ethan’s cheek, his heart flutters and his morning wood gets stiffer.

Then his dad’s gone and Ethan moans into his pillow. His dad showers first. He leaves his son’s room door wide open and Ethan can hear the sprinkle of the shower as the man washes himself. Ethan lies half-awake, his cock still stiff, driven point-first into his body pillow. Usually he humps the bed a bit, as he still thinks about that coarse hand on his cheek. It feels so good and tingly, but he also has to pee, so usually that’s the point where he gets up.

His dad is still showering when Ethan comes into the bathroom. They have a “who cares” policy in his house when it comes to nudity.

The toilet is next to the glass-door shower. Ethan pulls his boxers down and tries to bend his stiff erection to piss.

“Need help with that?” his dad asks.

Yeah, Ethan wants to tell him, but of course he knows his dad’s joking. This is the humor that runs between them. If his dad ever thought that Ethan wished the man would take his cock in hand, or that he’d come and snuggle under the sheets with him and press that whole muscular body hard against him, pin him down under all that weight, cock stiff and flush against his smooth butt cheeks…

Fuck. Ethan has to piss, but instead he’s got the tingly sensation in his cock and as he holds it he wants to keep squeezing.

Kinky Daddies: A Dad/Son Gay Incest 4-Pack Bundle

Posted on January 21, 2019February 18, 2020 by indieerotica

For a twink, nothing is hotter than sex with his father. Except when his father is super kinky.

This taboo bundle features four stories of masculine, powerful, and kinky daddies seducing their sons, stretching their limits, and exploring their deepest, most forbidden desires. From father/son piss play, to fisting, to gang bangs and more, this bundle has it all.

Kinky Daddies is a 16,000-word bundle and includes the following previously-published short stories: Drinking My Dad’s Piss, Tag-Teamed By My Dad And My Uncle, Fisted By Daddy, and Gangbanged By My Dad And His Friends.

I turn my head slightly, looking to Chad and Derek. They’re both engrossed in the game. I turn back toward dad, my lips just a mere inch from his.

“Dad…” I say. I try to keep my voice low and steady, but it comes out with a crack. I sound like a pubescent teenager.

He glances past me, toward his friends, then his eyes meet mine again. “They know,” he says.

Then it hits me. It all hits me. Dad does remember that night. I thought I was the only one living with this guilt, but he is too. But … he doesn’t seem like he feels guilty. He seems… Dad takes my hand and puts it on his hard, massive bulge.

“Dad…” I say again, my voice cracking again.

“Trevor…” he says. I moan at the sound of my name on his lips.

Absently, I realize the game is over. I hear the theme music emanating from the TV, but it sounds like it’s a million miles away. He grabs the back of my head and pulls me close to him for a kiss, his lips crushing against mine, and it’s like all I can focus on, like my whole world exists in this kiss and nowhere else. Everything drops away — the TV, Derek, Chad — they’re all gone and it’s just dad and I and our kiss. I can taste the beer on his lips and his tongue, and the warmth of his body soaks through his clothes and through mine and warms me to my core. His hand falls to rest on my hard bulge and he starts rubbing it.

Putting Him Under: A Straight-to-Gay Hypnotism 4-Pack Bundle

Posted on January 21, 2019February 18, 2020 by indieerotica

Inside every straight guy is a sex-obsessed gay man waiting to burst free. And sometimes the only way to reach that inner gay man is to hypnotize him.

This taboo bundle features four stories of seemingly straight men being hypnotized to unleash their insatiable gay desires, and then submitting to the very men who put them under. From jocks to hunks to roommates to cops — every straight alpha male secretly yearns for sweaty gay sex.

Putting Him Under is a 15,000-word bundle and includes the following previously-published short stories: Hypnotizing the Straight Jock, Hypnotizing the Straight Hunk, Hypnotizing My Straight Roommate, and Hypnotizing the Straight Cop.

I bite my lip, nervous with indecision. Looking in the mirror again, I catch the cop look up at me again from the seat of his car. Despite his mirrored sunglasses, the look of disgust is clear. Yeah, he’s a fag. He’s probably sucked more cock than me — probably taken more loads up the ass too. I can’t stand those two-faced homophobes who secretly have an insatiable desire for cock. Either own up to it or fuck off.

My cheeks are burning hot again, but now with anger. Fuck. I pick up my phone and dig through the links I have bookmarked. Near the bottom of the list is the hypno soundtrack that worked the best on my ex. I look in the mirror one more time, weighing whether or not to actually try this. I catch him glaring at me once more before getting out of his car — and I also take a moment to ensure that he is, indeed, alone — and I decide that I’m fucking doing this.

I hit the link, then start the audio track that pops up. I place my phone on my dash, pointing the speakers toward where the cop will be standing. A loud droning noise fills the car. A moment later, that perfect view of his crotch happens again. Then he bends over. He’s about to say something, but then he eyes my phone.

“Turn that off,” he says, command clear in his voice.

“Listen to it … it’s soothing … it’s calming…”

“I said turn that fucking thing off.”

My heart suddenly beats at something like three times the speed, hammering against my ribs. This is the do-or-die moment.

“Listen to the sound of my voice …