“Not tonight, honey,” Melody murmurs, her voice a gentle lullaby that barely pierces the veil of sleep.
   Her husband, Max, a robust tiger with a body so thick it could cushion a fall, sighs deeply. His broad shoulders rise and fall with the weight of his desire, a desire that seems to have no end.
   “Come on, it’s been two months!” he whispers, his voice strained.
   “I was hormonal, okay?” She mumbles, rolling away from him, her rounded belly a silent reminder of the life they’ve just brought into the world.
   Max’s tail flicks in frustration as he watches her drift off to sleep, his own arousal still pulsing through his body like a persistent drumbeat. He’s about to turn and try to find comfort in his own dreams when a faint crackly whimper reaches his ears. The baby. His newborn son. From the baby monitor. The feline sighs, resigning himself to the inevitable interruption. Melody stirs, a hint of annoyance crossing her features, but it's clear she’s too tired to move. She nudges him with a foot, her eyes still closed,
   “Go check on him.”
   With a grumble, the tiger slides out of bed, his cock still half-hard and insistent despite his efforts to ignore it. His footsteps pad softly on the floor, heading towards the other room. The nursery is bathed in a soft moonlight that filters through the curtains, casting a silvery glow on the walls. As he opens the door, the cries grow louder, a symphony of neediness that cuts through the quiet night. He scoops up the tiny form, the scent of a fresh diaper change lingering faintly in the air. But something’s not right. The diaper is wet and the little bottom feels cold to the touch. He sighs again, resigns to his fate as a parent, and carries the squirming bundle to the changing table. The plump cheeks of his son, Jasper, are red with indignation, and the little pup’s eyes are squeezed shut as he wails. Max’s heart swells with love and frustration in equal measure as he starts to undo the snaps of the onesie. The soft fur of Jasper’s bottom is exposed, and Max can’t help but admire the smoothness of it. He’s so small, so delicate, so... tempting. The thought makes him pause, his hand hovering over the wet diaper. He shakes his head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts that threaten to take root. “You’re not like that,” he whispers to himself, his voice hoarse with the effort of maintaining his resolve.
   As he wipes the boy clean, the gentle touch of the cloth against the baby’s skin sends a jolt of pleasure through his own body, and his cock starts to stiffen again. Max bites his bottom lip, fighting the urge to give in to the thoughts that keep creeping into his mind. The warmth of Jasper’s flesh against his fur-covered palm, the softness of his son’s whimpers, the look of innocence and cuteness plastered all over the boy... it’s all too much. He tells himself it’s just biology, a natural response to the touch of another living being, but deep down, he knows it's not only just that. The male tries to focus on the task at hand, his eyes darting from Jasper’s face to his crotch and back again. The newborn’s cock is tiny, barely a nub, but it stirs slightly at the cold air. Max can't help but wonder what it would feel like in his mouth. The father swallows hard, his own shaft now fully erect and begging for attention. He tells himself he’s just tired, that it's the lack of sex making him think these things. But the more he looks at Jasper, the more the idea takes hold of him.
   With trembling moves, he shakes some natural baby powder from a bottle into his hands, the white starch particles falling and piling up in his palm, his eyes never leaving the infant’s crotch. Then, with swift hands, Max applies the powder all over his son’s bottom, covering every inch of fur with the drying material. Jasper’s whimpers and soft babbling continues, his little body calming as the feline works his magic, but oh… the feel of the chubby buttocks against his hand, the size of the plump meat… Max’s mind is racing with thoughts, his body on fire with need. The darkness of the night envelops him, like the devil’s secrets telling him it’s okay, it’s just this once, it’s just to get it out of his system,
   “I’m-I’m not raping him, right? I’m not hurting him, it’s… it’s okay.”
   The tiger leans in closer, his breath hot against the baby’s skin, and brushes his nose against the tiny cocklet. Jasper giggles, a sound that sends a shiver down Max’s spine. “The monitor,” his thoughts immediately fire up as soon as he hears the boy making noise, “gotta turn off the baby monitor.” Max turns around and quietly presses on the power button, shutting down the cheap audio-only device. He knows he’s safe, the plastic recording box doesn’t alert the other side when it’s off, only the word “no signal” would appear, and even then the other device is on his side of the bed, there’s no way Melody can find out. Going back to the naked child on the table, upon the first look at the boy, he realizes he can’t resist anymore. Max kisses Jasper’s belly, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweetness of his son’s flesh. He moves lower, his nose nuzzling against the baby’s cock, his heart pounding in his chest. The pup’s eyes are now closed, his breaths deep and even. Max licks at the base, feeling it stiffen slightly under his tongue. The baby’s whimpers grow louder, turning into coos of strange joyous pleasure that echo through the quiet room. The adult feels a mix of love, guilt, and overwhelming arousal as he takes the tiny shaft into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it as he sucks gently. The boy’s body arches, his cries of joy like a twisting song to Max’s ears.
   Normally, these whimpers and cries, giggles and laughters don’t mean anything more to the tiger. But now, everything is a positive response, or a fuel to the horny male’s burning libido. Soft fur, smooth belly, pudgy buttcheeks… oh how they turn him on. The tension in Max’s own body is unbearable now. He can feel the pressure building, his cock begging for release. He reaches down, fumbling with his shorts, lets his cock swing free, and starts to stroke himself in time with the rhythm of his mouth on Jasper. The sensation is indescribable, a mix of pleasure and wrongness that only fuels his masturbation. He can’t believe he’s doing this, that he’s betraying his wife and his own son in this way. But the taste, the feel, the sound of Jasper’s joy is too much to ignore. The tiger quickly grows close to his climax.
   Then, with a final, desperate groan, Max releases himself, his hot cum spurting onto Jasper’s bare stomach, mixing with the scent of fresh baby powder. The baby’s eyes fly open, and for a brief moment, there’s a flash of fear in them, but it’s quickly replaced by curiosity as he watches the thick, creamy liquid pool on his skin. The tiger’s orgasm is intense, his body shaking with the force of it, his teeth gritted to hold back the sounds of his pleasure. The rock hard 8-inch cock pulses in his hand, each spurt sending another wave of ecstasy through his body, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Ropes of cum land on Jasper’s stomach, painting it white, and Max can’t help but marvel at the sight, his eyes blurry with lust. However, when it’s over, the guilt crashes down on the feline like a ton of bricks. He quickly wipes up the mess with a clean cloth, his heart racing, and tucks Jasper back into his crib, his own cock still standing proud. “It’s… it’s just the hormones, right? I’m just… very tired today. Yeah. Tired…” he reasons with his own mind, but the feeling lingers, a sour taste in his mouth that no amount of rationalizing can wash away.

   After laying his son back in the crib, his gaze rises to the baby monitor again. With trembling fingers, he turns it back on. A device that’s supposed to help him protect his son from troubles, yet has been voided by his own hands to cause some trouble. God, what has he done? This is wrong, so wrong, but… looking down, the father can still see his needy cock jutting out from his shorts, somehow still erect and needy. Max tucks it back in before stumbling out of the nursery and heading to the living room, where his tablet is. Grabbing it, he turns to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His hand shakes as he opens a porn site and sits down on the closed toilet seat, picking a random video that he normally would find interesting. Our poor tiger tries to focus on the videos of adult furries, the moans and thrusts of the actors on-screen doing their best to distract him from his own dark desires, his hand returning to his crotch, stroking idly.
   “Must’ve been a while… I can’t even remember the last time I could go twice like this,” he ponders as his eyes are glued to the tablet.
   Max scrolls through the videos, searching for the perfect release. But the more he watches, the less he feels the heat of the adult content. The images of Jasper’s tiny form are burned into his mind, flashing before his eyes between the display of naked men and women on the screen. As the married man feels his climax building, his hand hesitates over the screen, his breathing shallow and erratic.
   “I… I need something else,” he murmurs to himself, his voice barely a whisper in the stark silence of the bathroom.
   Shaken by fear, like the devil himself is controlling his movements, the tiger swipes upwards, taps elsewhere on the screen, and the adult content is replaced with the innocent images of Jasper saved in his personal gallery. Their family photos, their play photos, their vacation photos… images that were taken to savor a memory, a cherished point in time, are now being used as pornographic materials. Photos of him, Jasper and Melody in them. Photos that they usual view as a whole picture, yet now as soon as he scroll upon them all he does is zoom in on the newborn’s face and body. His son’s cherubic face smiles back at him from the screen, surrounded by a halo of soft, golden fur. Max’s heart races as he scrolls through the photos, each one more tantalizing than the last. There’s Jasper in the bathtub, his tiny hands playing with rubber ducks, but all he can see is his dick in between those digits. There’s Jasper giggling as he’s being tickled, his belly exposed, pink and vulnerable, but all he can see is his cum covering that torso a few minutes ago. There’s Jasper sleeping peacefully, one leg kicked out of the blanket, but all he can see is that child in his bed with his cock lined up. Max's breathing grows ragged as his hand bounces up and down on his crotch. He can't believe he's doing this, but the need is too strong to resist.
   The feline clicks on another, zooming in on his son’s face, so innocent and trusting. His mind fills with the memory of the baby’s sweet cries, the way his body reacted to his touch. Max’s hand starts to move faster, his eyes flicking between the image and his faint reflection in the screen. He watches himself, the adult tiger with the dark desires, and feels a twinge of disgust, but it's drowned out by the pleasure that floods him as he imagines Jasper’s hand wrapped around him, Jasper’s mouth taking him in, Jasper’s body taking his cock. The guilt is a living thing in his chest, a beast that claws at his insides with every stroke, but it’s powerless against the relentless tide of his arousal. The adult male slumps back on the porcelain seat, standing the tablet on his torso while his other hand pleasure itself.
   Just as he can feel his orgasm approaching, Max starts getting weak in his arms, and just before his sexual explosion, he lands the device on the floor. Then, his climax hits him like a freight train, his body arching, his eyes squeezed shut as he cums again, the second release of the night. The tiger’s mind reels with images of his son’s small form, his cries of pleasure, and the warmth of his skin under his mouth. He bites his lip hard, stifling a moan as ropes of cum paint the floor and wall, the scent of sex and musk mixing in the bathroom. The needy cock pulses, each spurt a confession of his deepest, darkest desires. The father’s lost in the moment, the guilt a dull throb in the background of his pleasure. when it’s over, the reality of what he’s done crashes into him like a cold wave. He stares at the mess he’s made, his handss trembling from the power of his orgasm, his breaths heavy and tolling.
   But… it’s not over. The guilt, the guilt’s not there. And… he gives his cock another squeeze,
   “Fuck… what is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you this horny, not even after not cumming for so long before!”
   Max looks at the still-hard tool in his cum-covered hand. It’s still throbbing and painfully hard, yet it stares back at him like an inanimate organ. What is happening to him? This level of libido has never been a part of the tiger’s life before, why is it happening to him now? Especially after doing such a thing! He can’t go to bed like this, in the same state as he was before he came into the bathroom. He… He needs one more.
   Our feline picks up his tablet off the floor again, and as soon as his eyes are laid onto the zoomed in image of Jasper again, his heart thumps and skips a beat, his cock throbs out a drop of cum still stuck inside his urethra,
   “God… what is happening to me? What am I doing?” He mutters as his actions betray his words, once again pumping his 8-inch cock with fervor.
   With shaky hands, Max opens his personal gallery again, his eyes scanning over the innocent images of Jasper. He selects a picture of Jasper playing with his toes, the plumpness of his baby feet peeking out from under the blanket. His mouth goes dry as he watches the boy’s chubby legs kick in delight on the screen. God, his cock aches. It’s still so hard it hurts to ignore. “Oh… Jasper…” he mutters a moan under his breathe, his voice thick with lust. He imagines it's his son’s hands, so tiny and soft, stroking him, the baby’s eyes filled with wonder. It’s so wrong, but at the point where he’s trying to work towards a third orgasm of the night so he can get rid of this horrid lust he’s built up, he’s willing to try anything, even openly moaning his newborn’s name and lusting after everything about his body. The tiger starts to thrust against his own hand, his hips moving in a fast and short rhythm that matches the beat of his racing heart. "You're so perfect, so beautiful," he murmurs a mix of love and depravity that only he can hear, his eyes slowly falling as he becomes more aroused. The pressure in his groins builds, the friction against his shaft driving him to the edge. The feline’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, a storm of guilt he can’t escape. He can feel Jasper’s eyes staring back at him from the photos, oblivious to his father’s sins. Max’s hand moves faster, his breathing ragged, his teeth clenched,
   "You’re gonna make Daddy cum so hard," he growls, his voice low and guttural, “You’re gonna be Daddy’s good boy.”
   Finally, Max can’t hold back anymore. He lets out a strangled cry and moans the baby’s name as he cums, the warmth of his release spreading all over the bathroom tiles. His hips jerk up in short bursts every shot, spraying the male seeds everywhere. The pleasure is so intense it feels almost painful, a guilty ecstasy that makes him want to weep. Images of Jasper’s tiny body, his sweet giggles, and the smell of his soft fur swirl through his mind as he climaxes. The orgasm seems to last an eternity, his body shuddering with the sheer force of it.
   However, when it’s over, Max sits there for a moment, panting and trembling. His cock feels raw, his mind feels raw, his body, feels raw. The guilt crashes over him like a tidal wave, soaking him to the bone. He quickly wipes off the tablet, his heart racing. The tiger can’t believe he’s just done this, not once, but twice. He can’t let this go on, he can’t let his desires consume him like this. With trembling hands, he cleans himself up, the grabs a towel and wipe down all the evidence of his release. Holy fuck, there is a lot of cum. Has he ever ejaculated this much cum? His orgasms this hard? His lust this strong? Tossing the used cloth into the hamper, he tries not to look at the cum stains. The father tucks his cock back into his shorts, the meat now semi-hard and softening by the minute. He turns the sink on, cold water running from the tap a stark contrast to the heat of his shame. What did he just do? Sexualizing his son? A child?! A NEWBORN?!? He stares at himself in the mirror, what is supposed to be his reflection is replaced by an exhauted, messy, guilt-riden version of him. All of this can’t happen again, the feline is sure of it.
   The tablet is returned to the living room, and Max stumbles back to his bedroom, his legs feeling like they might give out beneath him. Melody is still sleeping, her gentle snores a soothing melody in the otherwise silent room. The guilty father slides into bed, his body feeling heavy with the weight of his secrets. He tries to tell himself it’s just a phase, that he’ll get over it. Cumming three times in a row has exhausted him, and his cock finally softens. But even as he drifts off to sleep, images of the cub’s naked body play in his mind like a twisted lullaby.
   The next morning, Max wakes up to the sound of Jasper’s cries. Melody is already up, tending to their son. The scent of breakfast wafts through the air, a mix of eggs and toast that makes his stomach growl. He tries to ignore the nagging feeling in his chest, the memory of the night before a constant reminder of his betrayal. He forces a smile, kissing his wife’s cheek before heading to the nursery. Jasper’s eyes light up when he sees the father, his tiny arms reaching out for male. Max lifts him out of the crib, his heart racing as he feels the baby’s warmth against his fur. The tiger gets dressed and prepares himself for work. As he walks out of the door, he places a kiss on Jasper’s cheek, and he smiles happily, his arms reached out to catch his father in a hug. The feline takes a deep breath, trying to push away the guilt that clings to him like a second skin. Throughout the day, he throws himself into his work, the repetitive motions and mind-numbing tasks helping to keep his dark thoughts at bay, but every time he sees a child, every time he feels the gentle brush of the wind against his fur, the memory of last night sticks to him like glue. It’s a constant presence, a shadow that follows him wherever he goes.