They say a girl’s first love is her daddy. Ghost knows that’s true. His own daughter always wanted to be attached at the hip from her very first steps taken, much to the ire of his wife. He had a daddy’s girl, through and through. There’s no cute saying for when your daughter becomes your son and that puppy love becomes a decidedly unhealthy infatuation.
But his Johnny’s always been one-of-a-kind, the best thing ever Ghost’s done with his life. He feels guilty during the daylight for encouraging Johnny’s behavior, but that doesn’t stop him from sliding a hand into his briefs in the dead of night and jerking his cock raw to videos of pretty boy pussies getting creamed and imagining those sweet moans coming from his son.
They also say that abuse is a cycle, and truthfully, Ghost gets a sick thrill from encouraging Johnny. Johnny’s too old to be climbing up onto his father’s lap, but Ghost doesn’t say anything about it. He often wonders if Johnny questions why that is. If he thinks Ghost allows it to try and make up for the fact that his vile bitch of a mother gave up custody of him during her and Ghost’s divorce because she was disgusted by Johnny’s desire to transition. Perhaps he thinks Ghost is simply tip-toeing around his insatiable greed for parental affection.
That would explain the more innocuous things, but not everything else. Not the kisses that Johnny likes to give. They’re mostly quick pecks on the cheek, completely innocent and harmless, albeit strange at his age. But with increasing frequency, they’re becoming less familial. Kisses square on the mouth that keep lasting longer when Ghost doesn’t tell him off for it. He would never; Ghost wants his sweet son to take what he needs, but he never does, not completely. Johnny loves to push boundaries, but he never takes the actual plunge.
If Ghost had to guess, he’d say Johnny’s worried about alienating his only remaining parent. And that breaks his heart, his sweet Johnny thinking Ghost would ever abandon him. It’s not Johnny’s fault that no teenage boy will ever measure up to his daddy. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Johnny’s letting himself get crushed.
Ghost will just have to get him unstuck.
Johnny’s sprawled out on the sofa when Ghost gets back from his morning errands, watching something on the telly, clearly enjoying school being done for the summer. Ghost would give him more responsibilities to stop him from lazing about, but he enjoys his boy being around the house all day.
“Hey, kid,” he greets, tossing his keys into the decorative bowl and slipping out of his shoes.
Johnny pats the cushion next to him. “Hi, Dad.”
Ghost takes the invitation gladly. He encroaches on Johnny’s space, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa in an invitation of his own. Johnny takes it and curls up against his side like they’re lovers having a movie night. “What’re you watching?”
He can feel Johnny’s shrug. “Dunno, just put it on for background noise. How was your morning?”
Ghost gives a shrug back, using the movement to wrap his arm around Johnny and tuck him closer to Ghost’s side. “All right. But I’ll have a better afternoon being here with you.”
Johnny’s grin is blinding—nothing makes him happier than Ghost’s affection, which Ghost gives freely and without being asked. It’s not a hardship, but especially not when they’re cuddled up together on a lovely summer day. They idly watch the movie playing as Johnny’s hand creeps along Ghost’s thigh and settles high enough up that he could stretch out his fingers and touch Ghost’s zipper if he wanted. It gets Ghost’s blood pumping, but his breaking point is when Johnny squeezes down on the muscle of few times like he’s appreciating Ghost’s physique.
Ghost can’t stand it anymore. It’s time to save Johnny from the rock and the hard place. In the blink of an eye, Ghost hauls Johnny onto his lap, forcing him into a wide straddle that brings their crotches together. Ghost’s been more-than-slightly hard since he sat down, and he knows Johnny can feel it.
“Dad?” Johnny asks timidly, hands resting on Ghost’s shoulder and kneading his shirt to soothe his uncertainty.
“Did you think you were being subtle, Johnny?”
Johnny’s eyes fill with tears immediately, and he looks down at his lap. Ghost’s entire demeanor changes, cradling his face to thumb away his tears. “Oh, sweet boy,” he coos. “I’m not upset.”
Johnny’s hands turn into claws, searching for a lifeline while he’s adrift. He doesn’t make eye contact. “You’re not?”
“I could never be upset with you, but especially not about this.”
“Why?”
“You have to ask? Baby, the things I let you do aren’t things other fathers would allow.” He brings his hands to Johnny’s hips and caresses him, moving him so they start up a gentle grind. So many layers between their bare skin, and it’s still the best thing Ghost has felt in years. “I’m not upset with you because I’m a bad man who’s wanted you for too long.”
Johnny’s shocked expression is almost a surprise to Ghost, but it makes sense. So caught up in his own shame, of course Johnny wouldn’t be focused on his father. He probably thought anything Ghost did was just his mind projecting his own desires outward.
“How long is too long?” Johnny wants to know.
“Since you started primary school,” Ghost admits, his guilt waning at the flush that takes over Johnny’s face. His most closely-guarded secret, bringing his mood to the lowest lows and his orgasms to the highest highs for the last decade. “Why do you think I was always volunteering to do bath time? I needed to see that perfect pussy and those flat tits. You were so sexy, staring up at me with those big blue eyes whenever I touched your little clit.”
The light grinding becomes full-on humping, an animalistic urgency as they move against each other. Johnny looks lost in a haze of pleasure as he asks, “You’re saying I could’ve been taking your cock my whole life?”
Ghost feels like a feral beast, so full of lust that he’s about to start snarling. “Didn’t wanna ruin you. But my good boy found his way to me anyway. You’re so fucking perfect, baby—always have been. You had more sex appeal at six than your bitch mother ever had during our marriage.”
Johnny cups the side of Ghost’s face, nothing but sincere when he says, “I’ll be a better wife.”
Ghost has to still his son so he doesn’t bust immediately. “Yeah? You wanna be my cute little boywife?”
“Yes.”
Ghost is done for. He scoops Johnny up and carries him down the hall to his bedroom, putting Johnny down on the mattress and covering his smaller body with his own much larger one. Their first true kiss isn’t gentle; Ghost takes, reveling in how shy and inexperienced Johnny is as he tries to keep up.
“Did my sweet boy save himself for his daddy?” Ghost knows the answer, but he asks anyway so he can get a thrill out of Johnny’s confirmation. “Get undressed, baby. I want to see you.”
Johnny follows his command easily, tossing each article of clothing to the floor until he’s finally nude. Then he spreads his legs, the vixen, putting himself on display for his pervert of a dad. Ghost drags his thumb from clit to hole, smearing the slick around.
“So wet already. It knows it was made for me.” His dick jumps at his own words, at the truth of them. He made this cunt, so of course he gets to have it.
“Please, Dad, fuck me. Put it in me, please,” Johnny begs.
“Your pussy’s empty, huh? Does she need a big cock to fill her up?” Ghost strips while he talks until he’s as naked as Johnny. He knew his son was attracted to him, obviously, but it’s a nice ego boost to see how desperately Johnny looks at his body. His sweet hole even clenches.
“Yeah. She needs her dad’s cock to fill her full of sperm.”
Just like that, the small bit of composure Ghost was holding onto slips through his fingers. He slides his dick along Johnny wet slit and then finally thrusts inside. It’s heaven, the culmination of so many years of wanting ending in a sinful union that’s never been so holy. They moan as one, meeting halfway in a filthy kiss that covers them both in spit.
“So deep,” Johnny gasps, lit up from the inside-out. “You’re so deep in me, Dad.”
“You’re as perfect as I thought you would be. And you’ve still got those sexy flat tits, fuck.” Ghost pinches a puffy nipple to hear Johnny moan. “Touch yourself for me. I want you to come on my dick.”
It only takes a minute of rubbing his clit before Johnny comes so hard his back bows off the bed. His orgasm leaves him lax, laid out like nothing more than a hole for Ghost to fuck. Ghost obliges, thrusting harder.
“That’s a good faggot, coming on your dad’s cock,” Ghost praises lowly. “I should’ve been draining my balls in you for years.”
“You can do it now,” Johnny slurs out, still floating on endorphins. “Can fuck me any day and fill me up.”
“You want that? Wanna keep your siblings safe and warm inside you? Make me a daddy again?” Ghost lays a hand on Johnny’s stomach, directly over his womb. It’s his most depraved fantasy: impregnating his teenage son, building the foundation to systematically trim their family tree with surgical precision until it becomes a fucked-up wreath of inbreeding.
Johnny lays a hand over Ghost’s, gripping it tight. “As many times as you want. I’ll give you a bunch of little holes since you didn’t get to have mine.”
The words turn Ghost rabid. He fucks Johnny so hard that he slides up the bed, sobbing and moaning as Ghost touches places inside of him no one ever has before. “You better have meant it because you can’t take it back now. You ready for your first load?”
“Yes! Fucking breed me, Dad! Breed your son’s pussy! Start a family with me and make me a mummy.”
God, his perfect boy is going to be the death of him. Any residual guilt is gone and won’t ever be seen again, not when Johnny is as eager for shared degeneracy as Ghost is. And it all starts now, with the orgasm Ghost is so close to, his heavy nuts full of Johnny’s brothers and sisters drawing up in anticipation. He’s going to dump load after load into Johnny’s pussy until one of the little bastards takes, and then he’ll keep doing it, and their family will be beautiful.
“Here it comes, baby.” Ghost crushes them together, groaning into a kiss as he hikes Johnny’s leg up higher to get a deeper angle. So wet and warm and perfect—Ghost can’t hold back anymore. It’s the best orgasm of his life, so good he can feel it all the way to the tips of his fingers. So good that if he were a man to believe in divine plans, he would say it was destiny for them to come together like this.
When Ghost untangles them and pulls out, he replaces his dick with his fingers, scooping his cum back into Johnny’s pretty pink pussy. He knows he’s a sick, sick man, but at least his son’s just as sick.
“I love you so much, Johnny,” Ghost says, reaching out for Johnny with his free hand.
“I love you too, Dad.” Johnny twines their fingers together, giving a little squeeze.
A girl’s first love is her daddy, and abuse is a cycle—two things Ghost knows to be true. Two things that have only been benefits to him.