"Go ahead, champ. Pick out which one you want."

"C...Can I really?"

The Dalmatian boy apprehensively stood there as his gaze swept over the sea of plushies in front him, his muzzle quivering. Above him, his father sighed and reached down to stroke the top of his head, offering him some sort of encouragement by way of physical affirmation. Charlie turned his head to look up at his dad, an otter, before looking back at the plushies. They stood in one of the most fancy and expansive toy stores in the state, which was as busy as it was vast. The 8-year-old couldn't seem to be pick a toy that he truly liked; there was little dogs, elephants, characters from cartoons...yet the huge array of options was more of a hindrance than a help to the cub, who simply couldn't decide on what he liked most. He wasn't exactly looking to buy one, either-- he was only browsing whilst John, his dad, picked out a toy for his cousin's birthday.

"But..." Charlie began. "Aren't you getting a toy for Caleb's birthday? I shouldn't..."

"Caleb's birthday ain't for another 2 weeks," John insisted. "Besides, it's my treat. It would be unfair to take you to a toy store and not let you get a toy."

"But..." Charlie looked flustered, and with a sigh John crouched, his jeans pinching at his knees. He put an arm around his son and the Dalmatian boy instinctively leant into his shoulder, tilting his head and pressing it to the otter's shoulder.

"It's okay, little buddy," He assured him. "What's your favourite one, huh?"

Charlie paused for a moment and glanced up at him out the corner of his eye, squirming in his T-Shirt and shorts. Eventually, he raised his hand and pointed up towards a plushie that was a couple of shelves up, roughly eye-level for any adult. It was a character from a notable kid's show, PAW patrol: Rocky, to be more precise. Charlie watched the show way too much, so John was concerningly familiar with the majority of the characters, especially the main cast.

"Rocky, huh?" John mused. "Would've picked Chase, personally..."

"I-I like Rocky..." Charlie mumbled, but he brightened visibly when John remembered the name, and the otter swept his hand down to the boy's ass. With a grunt, he lifted him up and held beneath his behind, and Charlie instinctively put an arm around John's shoulder, using it to steady himself. With his free hand, John reached out for the toy, which was roughly about medium-sized, and brought it closer. It had the little green cap and jacket and everything. Charlie clutched it as if his life depended on it, and John could see the twinkle in his eye.

"Well..." John continued, turning as he carried the boy. "I know what I'm getting for your cousin...shall we take that little pup home?"

Charlie nodded fervently and wordlessly clutched the toy to his chest as John strode down the aisle, back towards the place he was looking at before. They didn't linger in the store for much longer, and when they got to the checkout things were easy; the cashier realised that Charlie didn't want to let go of the plushie, and made a point of simply finding it in the system instead of trying to take it from him to scan it, despite John's awkward insistence. The dad paid for what he'd picked out, bagging up the toy he'd gotten for Caleb, before they left to go back to John's car.

It was not 5 minutes later that John had Charlie's pants off, and the two of them were pressed down in the back seat. The Dalmatian laid on his back across a couple of seats, his legs spread and the Rocky plushie clutched close to his chest, whilst his little cock twitched madly beneath, wedged between his shirt and the plushie's paws. Above him, John towered over his small frame, on hand pressed to the seat whilst the other clutched the boy's hip. His own pants lay in a heap at the bottom of the car and his crotch was firmly embedded against the boy's behind, gyrating and rolling as the little wet slaps of his thrusting hips filled the space of the cramped back seat, intermingled with Charlie's little whimpers of pleasure and discomfort.

"You know I love it when you moan like that, Charlie." John breathlessly murmured, lowering his head down until his muzzle was mere inches from the boy's forehead. He kissed along it and Charlie whined, pushing his muzzle against the plushie in his hands, his toes curling as his innards clamped and spasmed, squeezing around John's cock.

"P-Papa..." Charlie shakily whispered, and John groaned for him, drifting his head to the side and kissing along his cheek as his thrusts quickened. He was glad for tinted windows-- they were still in the car park, and he didn't want anyone spying on him fucking his own son. Charlie's whimpers shifted into gasps and he began to let out little moans that grew higher and higher over time. John matched them with his own, his fingers curling tightly around the Dalmatian's hip, squeezing and massaging flesh.

"Oh, Charlie..." John growled with delight and huffed against the boy's head, picking up speed as the wet slaps of their sex lapsed into fervent, lewd squelching, his balls tucking neatly against the cub's ass and wildly wriggling tail with each pound of his hips.

Charlie let out a sudden and abrupt yelp, and John felt the boy's insides clamp and squeeze, gripping to every inch of his pistoning cock. With a strangled groan John pushed forwards and let out a long and heavy sigh of relief, sinking himself completely into the boy's behind. His own pleasure, combined with the rhythm squeezing of that ring and inner walls, sent him over the edge. He sagged forwards and hung his head as he pumped load after load into the boy's behind, painting his insides with a thick, ample layer of seed. He affectionately squeezed the 8-year-old's hip and tugged him a little firmer to him as he leant down, bending his body inwards so he could get his head closer. He brushed his lips against Charlie's cheek and the boy instinctively turned it to the side, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly agape as his little chest heaved.

"I love you, son." John murmured, and he pressed a kiss to the boy's lips, pushing his tongue into the cub's mouth. Charlie trembled beneath him, more out of physical exertion and tiredness than anything else, and he loosened one hand from his plushie so that he could reach up and brush a hand across John's front, his fingers curling against the man's shirt. The otter parted their kiss, dipping his head to the side and sinking himself down against the boy's body.

They'd linger like that for a little longer, before John would eventually drive them home...and there, they'd make love until dinner time.