Dressed in a set of chequered pyjamas Oliver slinks down the stairs with still wet hair, turns right and proceeds towards the living room. All that keeps his paws from freezing against the pale tiles are the contrasting black woollen socks. A zephyr slips through the cracked open window, chilling the man down the spine as he sits on the sofa and drapes a blanket over his lap. The fire crackles as it staves off its own death, surviving barely on the tiny remnants of firewood. Oliver brings his feet off the floor and rests them on the warm sofa, positioning himself comfortably with his back against the arm of the lounge.
Everette appears with an outfit to match his dad’s, strutting to the opposite end of the couch and hurling the blanket back dramatically. The cub pulls on his father’s pant-leg to move, sitting down and grunting as the pair of legs land on his lap. Everette slides one paw just up the leg and begins massaging the grey fur idly, his head cocked to the side and his green eyes fixed on the fire. It wanes for a moment, dying down to a flicker before catching itself on another scrap.
The pair exchange a knowing look but neither speaks a word to break the peaceful quiet between them. Everette leans forward, beginning to crawl out from under his father’s legs only to be gently pushed back down. Getting up from the couch himself, Oliver lovingly places the blanket around his son and plants a kiss on the cub’s muzzle. The cub shies away, his cheeks visibly turning red through the white fur surrounding his muzzle as he pulls the blanket in closer.
In their strange relationship Everette knows it’s an apology and his heart flutters for a minute, shuddering from the release of tension. He fidgets with the ends of the blanket, pulling on some of the exposed strands of the frayed edge. Everette’s tongue pokes out and he licks his already moistened lips, eyeing the door his father had disappeared through.
Oliver grumbles as he hoists the axe from the shelf and carries it to the stack of firewood. The freezing concrete floor penetrates through his socks, amplified by the millimetre of open space at the base of the garage door. He swings the axe cleanly through the chunk of wood, splitting it in half before repeating it lengthways into quarters. Oliver repeats the process on another half-dozen pieces of firewood, cursing Winston as he hauls them to the fireplace.
Throwing four chunks directly into the pit, Oliver scurries back to the couch. His frustrated glare alone could set the wood alight as it continues to wane. A moment later the dying flame catches on one of the new pieces, quickly rejuvenating and swallowing the rest in a blaze. The room almost immediately begins to swelter, and Everette loosens the blanket to allow his father to come under it. Oliver returns to his comfortable position, draping his legs across the couch and setting his feet in Everette’s lap.
Pulling his phone from his breast pocket Oliver begins to browse the internet, searching for gifts ahead of the coming Christmas. His eyes flit between the screen and his son, sizing up an expensive black vest like his own. He retreats from the page knowing it would only sit in the closet. Tapping through page after page of gift suggestions, watches, clothes, electronics, he can’t find a thing suited for his brattish fox. Oliver relents and changes website to an adult store for a second before quitting upon witnessing the hundreds of options. His phone starts to vibrate with a call, leaving the living room to take it.
Playing with his phone already as well, Everette pulls away the front of his pants once alone and takes a photo of his flaccid cock. He crawls over the arm of the couch and yanks down the back of his pants, snapping another picture of his exposed rear. With a few motions, he texts it to his parents and settles back into the corner of the couch, snickering. Oliver pokes his head back around the corner, staring at the boy as his flustered partner harasses him on the phone.
Everette starts to remove his pants completely, a wide grin on his face as he taunts his father and takes another photo, this one including the entire package. Oliver points a finger. “Hun, we’ll be fine. Don’t put yourself at risk driving out in this, especially if they’re going to pay you extra to work late,” he continues his conversation. ‘Don’t send that,’ he mouths a warning. Too late as his phone buzzes again to a picture that displays Everette’s cock, balls and ass all in one.
“What are you teaching this kid Ollie?” Winston sounds off on the other end of the call.
“It wasn’t me!” Oliver can’t help but laugh. “He’s doing it himself.”
An ear to ear grin covers Everette’s face, his orange ears proudly pointed to the roof. He flips around onto his knees and shakes his rear end, spanking himself loudly and groaning. “Are you two?” Winston asks.
Determined to clear himself Oliver turns the call to video and aims it at the cub. “He’s doing it himself because he’s a little shit!” he remarks, making sure the boy can hear. “I’ll see you later, love you too.” Oliver ends the call and shakes his head, repeating the same glare which had sparked the fire earlier. “You’re gonna get us in trouble sending shit like that Evan,” he says.
“You and dad send ‘em to me!” Everette replies, crossing his arms and slumping his face into the cushion. He wiggles himself around and rests into the corner of the sofa, not comfortably but defensively. The cub’s arms are in front of his crotch and a foreign frown sits on his brow.
Oliver swats the boy’s arms away and encircles him in a tight hug. “What’d I say this morning?”
“Something about a golden shower.”
A chuckle escapes before the feline brings a paw lovingly to his adopted son’s face, drawing it forward into a tender kiss. “That we’d be called unfit, and you’d be taken back to an orphanage,” Oliver reiterates. “You’re my-our son, Everette.” He tilts the cub’s slowly dipping face back up but pulls down his chin to open his maw, entering a deep kiss with the pants-less boy, mixing their saliva. Overflowing with passion Oliver grips his son in tighter, the cub wrapping his legs around his waist as he too indulges. “And I love you, Evan.”
“I-I love you too dad,” Everette stutters nervously. It’s nowhere near the first time they’ve exchanged the words, but a tightness grips his stomach as he latches onto his father. A hand worms under his tail, groping the round cheeks while a single finger teases his hole. Everette shakes his head and pushes away his father’s paw. “Can’t I have a break?” he asks, nestling against the tuft of grey fur poking through his dad’s top.
“Of course, but you’re the one who got naked,” Oliver replies. He tussles the blonde head fur and kisses his son’s forehead. “Got any assignments before the holidays hun?”
“Winnie already helped.” Everette releases his grip and shuffles to the other end of the couch, fetching his pants and hoisting them back on. The boy slides off the sofa and approaches the curtains, peering outside at the blanket of snow piling even higher. An exaggerated sigh escapes the cub and he groans, “I’m bored.”
“We have puzzles we can do, card games we can play together, board games you can kick my ass at you Yahtzee winning brat,” Oliver replies. There’s an entire cupboard filled with things to do with no electricity, power outages being commonplace and capable of lasting days in the sticks.
Everette looks over his shoulder chuckling, “I can’t help that it loves me!” His tail sways from side to side. “I’ll go grab my,” he sighs and begins to walk towards the kitchen, snatching up the keys. “My bag’s still in the car.” Everette throws open the front door, admiring the blinding pure whiteness piled up to his waist. With the snow shovel in hand he begins to carve a path towards the car, struggling to heap it to the side. It takes a while to reach and make enough room to open the door, but he is rewarded by his bag and the handheld inside it. Everette closes and locks the sedan and confidently strides along the path he made. “Wah!” he screams, flinging his backpack into the air as he loses grip on the slick concrete. Everette hurtles into the freezing snow, shivering as he lays stunned on his face.
Oliver rushes outside upon hearing the shriek, tiptoeing to his son’s side and hoisting the cub off the lawn. The snow is mixed under the cub’s facial fur, melting from its exposure to his body heat. Oliver hauls the boy inside brushing off what snow he can, stripping him naked in front of the fire. “Silly kit,” he says, dabbing Everette’s saturated face dry with his sleeve.
Everette’s teeth chatter as the cold consumes him, snow melting into places it should never reach because of his tail. “So cold…” he mumbles, bracing his arms across his chest and bundling his legs closer. The boy rolls onto his side in the foetal position, dangerously close to the fire. A hand runs up and down his waist as his father pulls him into a hug, soaking up more of the moisture into his clothes. “Mmm, dad...” Everette closes his eyes and sinks into his father’s embrace, whining as the feline pulls away.
Taking his damp clothes off and tossing them into a pile with Everette’s drenched outfit, Oliver positions himself against his son’s spine. Pushing an arm beneath the cub and holding him tight, Oliver glosses his hand over the orange fur. The cub’s erect cock protrudes from his crotch, twitching as his father grazes it. “Oh, so now you feel like it,” Oliver teases. He grasps the end of Everette’s cock and peels the foreskin down, massaging the exposed glans. He holds his left paw over his son’s thumping chest, heart-rate increasing as blood pumps to the boy’s cock. “Feeling better?” Oliver asks.
“Oh dad,” Everette moans, wiping his forehead as the heat from the fire and his stomach cause a sweat.
Oliver manipulates his paw around and grasps the swollen shaft firmer, dragging his foreskin up to the tip of his length and then back down. A few droplets of precum escape from the slit, becoming lubricant for an increasingly sloppy handjob. “Here you go.” Oliver cups the developing orbs and starts to squeeze them encouragingly, deriving louder and more degenerate moans from the cub’s lithe figure.
Thrusting against the grey paw and simultaneously wiggling his bare against his father’s crotch, Everette’s chest heaves with laboured breath. “Daddy.”
Oliver’s steadily growing erection has marked the cub’s rear with a glazing of precum as he humps lazily. He bites and nibbles on the perky ears, each one met with a squeak as Everette flinches. Breaking away from the comfortable position spooning his son, Oliver flattens the boy on his back and climbs on top. Gripping their cocks together in both paws he sizes them up, double his son’s length and a fair bit thicker. The difference in both cock size and height makes frotting troublesome in this position, the lower half of Oliver’s shaft getting limited attention. “Good kit,” he says, smiling and bucking his hips slowly as precum dribbles out and coats their cocks.
Gripping around the tip of his cock Everette peels down his foreskin, allowing the sensitive glans to be rubbed. His tongue dangles out from the corner of his mouth, moaning out pleasurably as the tender cusp of his cock meets Oliver’s dripping tip. “Unf.” Everette clutches at his father’s hips, pulling him down and humping desperately, their sacks and shafts slapping together. He flails his arms behind his father, crying out and grabbing the feline’s firm ass.
Breaking out of the hold Oliver shuffles back. He spreads his son’s legs apart and bends them back, sloppily hitting his saturated cock against Everette’s pink hole. Placing his tip against the entrance now and smearing dollops of precum over the cub’s delicate rear. Oliver pushes inside slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he is met with a tad bit of resistance at the thickest part of his head. Using the cub’s right leg like a lever he sinks deeper. Both arms wrapped around the same leg, Oliver begins to lick the boy’s pink paw pads. He thrusts into the hilt and becomes feverishly intent on the wiggling toes, sucking each one and sliding his tongue across the ticklish flesh.
Everette switches between laughing and moaning on a dime. The sensation of his father’s cock stretching his ass and thumping against his body wins in the end as he falls limp and surrendering to the pleasures of being fucked. He musters a small bit of strength to bring his thighs together around his cock, and soon after his belly begins to tense up. Father and son start to cum, synchronised. Oliver’s torrent of cum shoots out in multiple ropes, marking the cub’s innards with his seed. Everette’s cum is more liquid as it pisses out and slides down his shaft before it pools on his furry sack.
Oliver lays down flush with his son’s stomach, sandwiching the sticky cock between them as he continues to plug the cub’s messy ass with the cum he planted there. He nestles his head atop Everette’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of love before his eyes grow heavier and he falls asleep. Warm and comfortable beneath his old man, Everette rolls his head in the opposite direction and drifts off, a content smile as he whispers, “I love you, dad.”