You're sleeping soundly, a well-deserved rest from the rigors of dealing with a new baby boy. Though your son is still only a few months old, your system is long since used to waking up at the slightest noise. You sometimes wish you were a deeper sleeper, but your son's safety will always be one of the more important things in your life, so there's not much that can be done.

You're woken up by a soft noise. It's enough to draw you from slumber, but you're left wondering what it was. A sound from the baby monitor? The old wooden house settling in? You lay there for a minute, listening intently. 

A soft gurgle rises up from beneath your covers. You look down, unamused by your body's tricks. Now that you start to become more lucid, though, you can feel the dull ache of hunger throughout your body. Your eyes flick to the clock, seeing the time blink at 12:34 AM, and you're unsurprised. Dinner had been meager the night before, and your body was crying out for sustenance. 

You heave yourself out of bed and turn on the lights, having stubbed your toe enough to learn your lesson. The night air is pleasantly warm on your bare fur, which is good considering you're only wearing a skimpy pair of underwear. You pass by your floor-length mirror, a bit of a vanity purchase you made a while ago. 

You give yourself a sleepy grin as you look yourself over. Just as fine as you've always been, a tall slab of  feline beef with a handsome face and a killer bulge. You're not the youngest of Dads, sitting pretty at 34 and your only child still in diapers and a crib in the next room, but you pull off the Lion DILF thing quite well. 

Your sudden awakening has left your underwear in a bit of a twist, and you feel a slight itch in your crotch.

You reach down and give yourself a hearty scratch, grinning as you watch your fat ballbag bounce around in your skimpy briefs. You've always been a very well-endowed man, possessing a thick, stout cock and testicles that were almost the size of baseballs. No matter what kind of underwear you wear, they always bulge them out and look lewd, so eventually you gave up trying to hide them. Now you exclusively wear speedos, jocks, briefs, anything that'll give you an obscene mound. Your nose twitches as you stir up their musky scent, a smell you find both comforting and arousing. Your bulge gives a few sleepy twitches, but now's not really the time to get into that.

You give yourself a parting wink in the mirror and make towards the door, automatically plotting a course for the kitchen. You hesitate at the threshold, though, and cast an eye down the hallway to where the Chris's door is cracked open. 

Chris's room is actually your old room. Your parents were more than happy to leave you the house when they retired and moved somewhere more tropical, and you were happy to have a well-built house with no mortgage payments. It was a bit of a struggle convert the room you had masturbated in thousands of time and had some nasty hook-ups in to a sparkling clean nursery, but it gave you such a warm feeling to raise your son in the same space that you yourself were raised. 

The room itself was the same color, a nice happy sky blue, but you'd added some clouds and stars and suns on the walls. You went overboard buying stuffed animals and now the room is packed with them, but they ended up being a good buy now that Chris liked to use them to take impromptu naps in.

Your eyes sweep around the room as you tip-toe in, looking for anything out of place. It's all exactly where you left it. Chris, too, hasn't moved from where you put him to bed, sleeping deeply in his crib. 

You give a soft, sappy sigh as your eyes trace over his small face. He was a beautiful cub since the day he was born, pretty much, and you're not afraid to admit it. Delightfully soft sandy blonde hair, bright little blue eyes, and just enough baby fat to look plump without looking big. 

You lean against his crib, spending some time just looking at him. He's quite the active boy, and you treasure quiet times very deeply. You're still a little groggy from being woken up, and your hips start to grind a little against the crib bars by themselves, your cock plumping up. 

You only realize you're doing something lewd when a soft moan escapes your lips, and your eyes focus in on the fat bulge sticking through the crib bars. Your balls make a huge mound in your skimpy briefs, pushed together even bigger by the wooden bars. The stimulation feels good, and your son is still sleeping soundly, so you give in to temptation and keep pleasuring yourself a little bit longer.

The soft gurgle sounds again, sounding a little off. In the sleepy haze of pleasure, you think that it sounds like it's coming from not quite the right place, a little too low down to be your stomach, but you don't give it much thought.

Your sleepy masturbation against the crib starts to get a little too rowdy, though, and soon the wooden bars are making rhythmic rattles, rudely drawing your son from his rest. 


Your son's fussy cries grate against your ears. You hasten to pick up him, gently scoping him into your arms and cradling him against your naked chest. You expertly grab a binky from the crib side table and slide it onto Chris's toothless mouth, quieting his cries. 

He looks up at you with his big green eyes, shiny with unshed tears. He cries for a few more seconds into his binky until your gentle shooshes and pats calm him down. His little head gratefully falls against your warm pectoral, snuggling into your fluffy fur and warm scent. 

You probe your fingers around his diaper, looking for any wet spots. When you find none, you mentally review the last time he fed, and remember that he shouldn't be hungry until early morning. It's a relief to know that the only thing that woke him up were your clumsy noises, but now you're faced with the task of getting him back to sleep. 

Your focus is divided, though, because your cock has yet to go down from your previous ministrations. It gives you a thrill to be holding your baby son while you have a half-boner tenting out your underwear, and the feeling only serves to make you harder. It feels like all the stuffed animals are watching, as well, and soon you're falling into a lusty pit of perversion. 

You cuddle Chris tightly, laying soft kisses on his forehead and brow, all while waving your hips back and forth and feeling the tightening material of your briefs rub against your cock as your bulge jiggles softly. You reach down every now and then to give yourself a good grope, and soon you move a hand down between your legs permanently. It's easy enough to hold onto Chris with one arm, and exploring your crotch with Chris so close is making for a lot of new feelings.

Every nerve ending feels electrified as you slowly move your hand up, down, and around your entire cock. It's feeling thicker than it's been a while, completely engorged and pulsating. You move your hand down your balls, the crown jewels of your genitals. They feel so loose and warm, cascading around your hand and pushing out your briefs til the material is almost translucent. 

You bring your hand up to your nose, taking a deep breath of your spicy junk musk intermingling with the pure scent of innocence wafting off of Chris's downy fuzz. You giggle to yourself as you trace your stink finger around his little button nose, feeling so deviant and naughty. 

You'd be lying to yourself if you said this was the first time you've ever done anything that crossed boundaries with Chris. Just wearing your tight, skimpy underwear and swinging your bulge around your son was bad enough, but your slight perversions didn't end there.

Sometimes, before giving a binky to your son, you'd suck on it yourself a bit, getting it nice and wet with thick manspit before popping it into your boy's mouth. You've even been known to do take a used binky from Chris's mouth and do much the same thing, the sweet taste of infant saliva dancing across your tastebuds.

Knowing that your sweet baby son is currently smelling the dark scent of his Dad's ballfunk sends a surge down your entire body, making your cock flex and pop right out of the top of your briefs. You look down in surprise, seeing your wide, leaking piss-slit staring back up at you. 

If anyone could see you know you'd be mortified, holding a cute baby boy while your thick dong sticks out from the hem of your underwear, the ball-bulge beneath equally large and and obscene. But the windows are shuttered tight, so you take the time to walk around the room like that, dripping precum all over the place and letting your nuts jiggle around their pouch. Where other men's ballsacs got tighter as they got more turned on, yours had the lovely habit of getting looser and goopier, which made for a great feeling whether they hung free or were bundled up.

You share a nice bonding time with Chris, earning more than a few happy giggles as you poke him with your smelly hand and wave your dick around like a big, leaking perverted stick. 

It's during one of these wiggle-stick-giggles that Chris laughs a little too hard, his binky falling out of his open mouth and right onto your erect penis. 

You look down in surprise and chuckle. It landed right in your piss-slit sucker side down, so it looked like your fat plum head was suckling on the binky by itself. 

If the situation wasn't so illegal and morally disgusting, you'd be tempted to take a picture and send it to everyone you know! It's not everyday that your son drops his binky so perfectly aimed that it lands sucker down into your dick. Instead, you just laugh to yourself at how silly it looks. 

"Good aim, buddy!" You praise, giving a little tickle to Chris's bare tummy. 

It also feels pretty damn good, actually. The sucker is sticking down into your slit, and it's a totally new sensation for you. One that you're quickly learning to like. Your cock throbs and your piss-slit expands, and you hear that strange gurgle again. 

You're awake enough to tell that it definitely isn't coming from your stomach. You give your dick a little test throb, and the gurgle sounds once more. It's coming from...your testicles? You're not quite sure how, but the more you think about it the more it makes sense. It certainly sounds like it's coming from down there, and when you focus on the hungry feeling you can tell it's centered right between your legs. 

You're very familiar with your balls being too full, but you've never had them be too empty before. You don't even know how to remedy that. It's not like you can just not masturbate, because you've already been doing that for a week now. Plus, you're getting so turned on that the idea of not getting release is not an acceptable option. 

Your cock trembles and throbs, tickled by the binky resting at it's lips. It starts making a slight sucking sound, thick and wet. You raise an eyebrow as you watch with interest. Your entire dick is tingling, as if you'd been edging it all night instead of just a few minutes. 

With a silky smooth slurp, your cockhead flares up and the binky sinks down a little bit, sending a shudder down your spine. Another throb, and the slimy sucker goes down further. 

Your breathing gets heavy, and your arm tightens around Chris. The puffy lips of your dick creep up around the binky with every throb until they close up around the other side of it. There's a small lump at the top of your dick, giving you an ecstatic massage from the inside. 

You moan lightly as you try to flex you pelvic muscles. The lump moves down your shaft an inch, drawn in by your penile muscles. You watch in enchanted interest as you draw the binky down your shaft, noticing that it looks a few inches bigger than usual. The further down your urethral tube it goes, the better it feels, until you're panting heavily into Chris's hair as the pacifier nears the bottom of your shaft. 

You give a massive flex and feel it pop through some kind of sphincter, and then a muffled, wet plop. There's a tell-tale lump in your underwear now, but you quickly push them down and investigate your crotch to make sure. 

Your fingers sink deep into the wrinkly sac, and sure enough they encounter the pliable plastic of your son's pacifier. Your ballbag gives a gurgle, louder than the ones before, confirming you suspicions of hungry testicles. 

"That's new, isn't it lil guy? Daddy just found a fun new game for himself!" You say with a grin. 

Your heavy nuts gurgle and babble, sounding very close to what your stomach sounds like after you eat a big meal. Within the minute, the plastic lump in against your fingers softens, and then disappears. You search around for it but can find no trace of it, instead realizing that your sac feels a little fuller. It stands to reason that you just digested your son's binky straight into spooge, and the thought turns you on beyond reason.

They give another gurgle, loud and demanding this time, vibrating ever so slightly in your hand from the pitch of it. You're hit by an overwhelming emptiness and an overbearing horniness. Your legs wobble with the force of it all. 

Your mind races with new-found possibilities. You desperately want to test the boundaries of this new weirdness, see how big you can go, how much your sac can handle. Do big things feel better, or a bunch of smaller things? You've got a room full of knick-knacks and toys that'll be discarded in a month, and you're awfully tempted to sacrifice a few of your sons toys for your pleasure. 

A needy whimper draws you back to the present, where Chris is wiggling a little in your arms, mad that the bouncing and silliness had been cut short. 

"Oh, did Daddy forget about you? Sorry, baby." You soothe, giving him some bounces in your arm. 

Your knees almost buckle as the very tips of Chris's little toes graze across the slime-soaked lips of your cock. It's expanded far past it's usual 6 inches, and now it's starting to creep into Chris's space. 

Chris giggles and kicks his foot against your dickhead again, amused by the feeling of precum coating his paws. The sight of his small feet dwarfed by the angry plum of your cock gives you a naughty idea. 

It's an awful, bad, disgusting, perverted, taboo, nasty, maybe even an evil idea. But as Chris's toes continue to flick across your your slit, your balls give a hungry, groaning gurgle that echoes in your head and you can't stop yourself from at least trying.

All that's left is to decide if Chris should kiss the head or play a little footsie.