Guy Time
By Gabriel Drake

"Branson! Go wake your father." Branson, a young fawn anthro with short brown fur and still sporting his spots, was laying on the living room floor idly kicking his hooves and watching his Saturday morning cartoons when his mother's shout came from the front room. "I'm off to work. I'll miss you, but have fun today."

Branson barely got out a belated "Love you, Mom" before the front door clicked shut, and his mom was off to her shift at the local grocery store. He remembered that he was going with his dad, Uncle Loren, and cousin Rafa on a hike today. Excitement began to bubble up inside him; he loved spending time with his family, especially when it involved outdoor adventures and “guy time.”.

A few weeks ago, Branson had gone to the water park with his uncle and cousin and was eager to see them again. He could still recall the strange feeling of seeing them both completely naked as they changed into their swimming trunks in the locker room. It was the first time he really remembered really seeing someone completely naked and it had been a bit of a thrill. The memory made him blush, and he couldn't help but wonder if he would get another glimpse of them in their natural state today.

Bounding up the stairs, his 8 year old legs struggling to take them two at a time. Moments later, he approached his parents' bedroom, pulling the door open to reveal a dark room despite the morning sunlight outside. He could just barely make out his dad's large form sprawled across the mattress, with only a sheet draped over him. His dad's hooved foot dangled over the edge of the bed, and his impressive rack of antlers was comically snagged in a pillowcase. The sound of his dad's deep snoring filled the room.

Branson watched tentatively for a few moments as his dad slept, feeling a mix of excitement and guilt. He knew his dad was exhausted from work and needed the rest, but he also couldn't wait to get the day started. His youthful energy and anticipation for the hike won out in the end, but he still tiptoed over to the edge of the bed to gently wake the older stag.

Reaching out a small hand, he touched his father's dark-furred chest, feeling the reassuring rise and fall as he breathed. He could feel the tangle of thick fur curling around his fingers and the solid muscle beneath the soft coat. Branson loved his dad and admired how strong and hardworking he was. He thought about how lucky he was to have such a wonderful daddy, even if it meant occasionally having to endure his dad's snoring on lazy Saturday mornings. With a renewed sense of excitement for the day ahead, he gently stroked his father's fur, trying to wake him without startling him.

The moment after his father groaned and reached for him, Branson felt the unmistakable strength of the older buck's hand encircling his wrist. He barely had time to register what was happening before he was pulled off his feet and into the bed. His dad mumbled, "Stoo early," as his arms wrapped around Branson, pulling him into a bear hug. "Cuddle w'me."

Despite his half-hearted protests about being too old for cuddles and being "almost seven," Branson couldn't hide the fact that he secretly loved the feeling of his dad's strong arms around him. He struggled meekly at first, but soon gave into the comforting embrace, nuzzling his face into his father's broad, muscular chest. The familiar scent of his dad, a spicy and musky aroma, enveloped him as they lay there together.

Branson felt himself start to doze off, lulled by his father's warmth and the steady snoring that had resumed. But then he remembered a time when his dad had woken him up by tossing a glass of cold water on him when he refused to get up for school. Grinning to himself, he decided that now was the perfect time for a little payback.

After wriggling out of his dad's embrace, Branson silently turned and slipped from the bed, intending to grab a glass of water to complete his plan. However, as he slid across the sheets, his father's meaty hand again lashed out and wrapped around his ankle. Branson was dragged back toward the center of the bed as the big stag rolled over, capturing him in his arms once more.

"Thwirty minutes," was all the burly man said before his breathing settled back into a deep, even rhythm, indicating he had fallen asleep again. Trapped within his father's embrace, this time upside down, Branson couldn't help but smile. He truly cherished these moments of closeness with his dad, even if he was currently held captive by the strong, warm arms surrounding him.

His father's hold on him was tighter and his body fully locked in place with his knees and arms trapped between his body and the larger deer's massive frame. He could feel even his head was trapped as his little ears were pushed flat against his head by his dad's big thighs and his face inches from his dad's belly as it rose and fell. There was no way he was getting out of this particular hold.

As he lay there, Branson couldn't help but notice that his father's distinctive scent was even stronger in this position. It made his thoughts wander back to the time at the water park when he saw his uncle and cousin without any clothes on. Curiosity piqued as he wondered about his father's sheath and if it would be as large and surrounded but thick dark fur as his uncle's had been. They were brothers so they were probably the same. After all, his own sheath looked very much like Rafa's, small and light brown, and they were only cousins.

The thin, grey sweats that his dad wore offered a faint outline of the bulge where his sheath resided. Branson's eyes traced the contours of the fabric, mentally comparing it to what he had seen of Rafa and Loren, hoping to get a better understanding of how his father's anatomy compared to his other male relatives. His youthful curiosity continued to grow as his imagination filled in the details that were hidden beneath the soft material.

Overcome with curiosity, Branson carefully maneuvered an arm free from his dad's tight hold. He gently slipped a finger into his father's waistband, pausing only to ensure that the deep snoring continued before he pulled the elastic away from his dad's firm belly. In the dim light of the bedroom, he could only make out the faintest hint of dark fur within the shadows, but the powerful scent that greeted him from the open waistband was undeniably intoxicating - it was his father's distinctive aroma magnified one hundred times over.

The potent smell made Branson's head swim with a strange mixture of excitement and thrill. He felt his sheath tightening as his little dicky started to grow hard like when he was really excited or needed to pee really bad. Despite not fully understanding the effect that his father's scent was having on him, he knew he craved more of it.

Feeling emboldened by his desire to uncover more of his father's mystery, Branson recklessly pulled his dad's waistband further taut, revealing the thick, stag sheath he had so desperately wished to see. The limited view he had of it, bathed in shadows, only allowed him to make out the very tip of the sheath, but it was undoubtedly larger than his uncle's had been.

However, his momentary jubilation was interrupted by his father's abrupt snort and he suddenly stopped snoring. Fearing that he had accidentally woken the older stag, Branson gripped the waistband tightly, preventing it from snapping back into place. Thankfully, his dad simply grumbled and rolled onto his back, pulling Branson's hips tightly against his chest.

Now, a mix of panic and embarrassment washed over the young fawn as he realized his hard, little spike was pressed firmly against his father's muscular torso. In this new position, Branson's legs were splayed across his dad's broad chest, with his face planted against the warm, firm abs. Despite his growing apprehension, he noticed that his upper body was now free from his dad's embrace, allowing him to use both hands for a better view of the intriguing sheath.

As his father's heavy snoring resumed, Branson hesitated for a moment, considering his next move. His curiosity fought against his mounting nervousness, urging him to take advantage of this unique opportunity to explore the mysteries of his father's body; all the while knowing that he balanced precariously on the edge of potentially being caught in a very compromising position.

Resisting the urge to rush, Branson waited patiently to ensure his father was in a deep, peaceful sleep before he decided to take another look. Delicately, he pulled his dad's sweatpants down further, exposing the hidden treasure he sought. The fleshy sheath swung slightly with each of the older buck's deep breaths, allowing Branson to drink in the details in the dim light filtering in from the hallway.

The sheath was surrounded by a mound of dark, almost black fur, variations in shading hinting at a hidden vortex of mysteries beneath it. Thinner, lighter fur trailed up the sides, gradually giving way to the dark, red-tinted skin that guarded the entrance to what lay within. In addition to the impressive sheath, Branson was in awe of the two massive, heavy orbs that hung between his father's legs. The weight of his dad's testicles seemed to pull down on the sheath, making the young fawn wonder at how much larger they were than his uncle's, estimating them to be at least twice the size.

As he studied the display of his father's masculinity, Branson felt a surge of pride, knowing he was the offspring of such a formidable stag. The sense of excitement and accomplishment leaped through him, mingled with something deeper, something he had no words for yet.

Overcome with these emotions, Branson could feel his own tiny penis pulsing, the urge to grind it against his father's sleeping form becoming almost irresistible. However, the intoxicating scent that arose from his dad's groin region caught his attention once more, causing his nostrils to flare as his body sought to consume as much of the aroma as it could.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Branson found himself leaning in even closer, his breath causing the fur at the tip of the sheath to dance in response. The young fawn was completely mesmerized by the fascinating secrets and enigma of his father's maleness now uncovered before him.

His fingers shaking with anticipation, Branson reached out and tentatively touched his father's sheath, whisper-light, watching intently for any signs of awakening from the slumbering figure. But when the constant drone of snores continued unabated, he took courage and wrapped his hand completely around the fleshy part of his father's maleness. Without really thinking, he found his hand seeking the hidden mysteries within.

With only a faint squeeze, he felt the sheath start to gently thicken in response and after a moment, it began to grow noticeably firmer beneath his touch. Eyes wide, he observed the sheath's tip part and revealed a dark pink moist tip from within. His mouth felt incredibly dry as he tried to swallow, watching as an inch of flesh slowly emerged.

He could see the light-colored little protrusion of flesh that marked where his dad peed from. He recognized it from his own little dicklet. But the spire that it was attached to was much larger than his own. His daddy's penis was getting hard, just like his, but on a completely different scale.

The conical tip of his father's penis, as thick around as Branson's entire hand, emerged first, followed by several more inches of rapidly thickening dark-pink shaft. The length and girth continued to grow, expanding as it emerged from its sheath, completely dwarfing the young fawn's own excited nub. Branson couldn't help but notice how it widened near the base, making the shaft appear sturdy and powerful, a sign of his father's virility.

Before long, his dad's entire massive erection stood proudly above him, a titan of masculinity. Branson estimated it to be nearly the length of his own forearm and definitely as thick, causing the young fawn's own erection to ache with unanswered need. Timidly, he rubbed his hard little penis against his father's chest, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his discovery and the conflicting emotions it brought forth within him.

Still deep in slumber, the steady snoring of his father continued, even as his impressive dick throbbed with each beat of his heart. The newly revealed shaft glistened in the dim hallway light, and Branson couldn't help but stare in amazement at the complex network of veins that stood out beneath the skin, giving the otherwise smooth surface a sense of depth and intricacy.

The two particularly thick, ropelike veins winding around the shaft caught the young fawn's attention the most, drawing his eye along their path from base to tip. Branson's hand felt damp with sweat, and as his grip on the intriguing organ slackened, his father's shaft slipped from his grip, falling like a mighty tree to gently smack him between the eyes before rebounding upward. The force of the impact might have been enough to bring shame to some, but Branson was filled with an almost childlike wonder at the resiliency of his father's anatomy.

As the impressive member drooped once more, it landed wetly across Branson's face. The young fawn was torn between hesitating at the prospect of what he was contemplating and the irresistible urge to connect with this newfound part of his father he'd discovered.

His love for his daddy guided his actions, as he decided to give in to his emotions. He turned his face upward and planted a gentle kiss right in the middle of the shaft, feeling the warmth of the skin against his lips. Then, holding the impressive organ in his hand, he pulled it downward and placed another tender kiss on the very tip.

As he pulled back, he noticed a hint of moisture on his lips from the encounter, and without thinking, he licked them to taste the remnants. Branson's taste buds exploded at the strange, sweet, salty, tangy, and musky flavors. A mirror of the scent that had so captivated him earlier, now brought to life as a flavor on his tongue.

Determined to experience more of the amazing new taste, Branson stuck out his tongue and circled it around the tip of his father's penis. Focusing on the small opening that marked his dad's urethra, he was rewarded with more of the slimy substance oozing out and coating his tongue, sending his own small erection into overdrive. As warmth spread through his body, he experienced a new sensation, one that caused his entire form to shudder and gasp as he felt his brain momentarily shut down from the intensity.

When he regained his senses, he realized that he had wrapped his lips around his dad's penis and was suckling instinctively, like a newborn cub. However, he also noticed that the familiar sound of snoring was absent, and in its place was the deep, serious tone of his father's voice.

"What are you doing, Bran?" His dad's voice held no trace of sleep, and the young fawn felt the familiar mixture of fear and guilt rise within him. Not out of fear for himself, but out of the dread of disappointing his father.

Branson's eyes brimmed with tears, his throat tightening as he felt the weight of his actions. He knew he shouldn't have acted on his desires and explored his father's body in such an intimate way. Overwhelmed with the urge to flee, he quickly released his father's dick, leaving it slick and glistening.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." His voice quivered on the edge of sobs, not knowing what to do or where to turn. In that moment, he half-expected his father to unleash a punishing rage upon him, perhaps even a spanking. He wanted to run. Not just from the bedroom, but straight out the front door and away from everything. He wanted to never stop running.

To his surprise, however, his father's big hands began to gently caress his back, one coming to rest on his bottom, soothing rather than punishing. The other hand cradled the back of his head, making him feel small beneath the large, strong palm. Instead of anger or disappointment, his father softly cooed in his ear, "Shhhh. Don't cry, baby boy."

Encouraged by his father's gentleness, Branson felt his tears begin to subside. Instead of pulling away in shame, his father guided his face forward, pressing it against the massive, hard pillar of stag flesh. With a tender voice, he whispered, "Keep sucking daddy's cock. You were making me feel so good."

Slowly emerging from his shock, Branson hesitantly began to reacquaint himself with his father's impressive organ. He gently licked the hard flesh, and as it pulsed beneath his touch, he garnered the courage to continue. Guiding the flared tip back into his mouth, he slowly began to suck, allowing the sensations to wash over him.

His father's words of encouragement only spurred him on, making him increasingly bold in his efforts to please the older stag. With determination, Branson attempted to take more and more of the lengthy shaft into his mouth, slobbering on the end of his dad's penis as he did so. The young fawn felt his father's love filling his mouth and enveloping his senses, urging him to continue his escapade.

As he became more engrossed in his work, Branson barely noticed when his father's hands tugged at his pajama bottoms, pulling them down and fully exposing his vulnerable body. The sensation of his father's soft fur against his own small erection sent shivers down his spine, a tingle he had never experienced before.

With a commanding yet gentle tone, his father guided him further into the experience. "Show me what a good cock sucker you are and get as much of my cock into your mouth as possible."

Following his dad's instructions, Branson propped himself up with one hand on his dad’s hip, and forced himself deeper onto his father's thick shaft. He knew he had to make his daddy proud and take it all. Feeling the stretch in his lips and the resistance of his throat, he reached the limit of what he could comfortably do, nearly gagging on the invading member.

Feeling the constriction in his throat, Branson started to panic as he couldn't breathe. His father, sensing his distress, gently yet firmly pressured him to continue taking the massive cock. "Breathe through your nose, baby. But don't stop sucking."

Branson did his best to comply, using every ounce of his will to continue pleasuring his daddy. He felt his stomach turn as he gagged on the thick organ, hearing his father's whispered praise of him being a good, eager cock-slut. No words were more effective in driving him to be better, to try harder, to make his daddy proud.

"I can feel you gagging on my cock, but you're such a cock slut, it doesn't even stop you," his father murmured, sending tremors of pride through Branson's body. He never wanted to disappoint his daddy, and he would do anything to hear those words of praise again. "Keep doing that and I'm gonna nut in your mouth, baby boy."

With determination and growing confidence, Branson fell into a steady rhythm as he pleasured his father. He found that by pulling back ever so slightly and letting air rush into his lungs, he was able to go even deeper each time he took the thick, meaty cock into his mouth. His daddy seemed to appreciate his efforts, as his praise continued to rain down upon him.

"Nobody's ever sucked my cock so good. You're gonna be Daddy's little cock sucker every day. You'll be drinking my cum every day from now on." The thought of being the center of his dad's attention in this way caused a flutter of excitement in the pit of Branson's stomach, urging him to double his efforts.

His father guided him onto his knees, making it easier for the young fawn to service his Daddy's needs. In his enthusiasm, Branson found himself exposing his bottom, tail lifted flirtatiously to give his dad a full view of his pert white-furred rear. He wanted to make his daddy proud and show that he could take anything.

His dad clearly appreciated the view, commenting on his tail hole's inviting appearance. Branson felt a thrill at the older stag's lustful appraisal, even as he felt a warm wet finger begin to probe his unexplored entrance.

Although he initially tried to tuck his tail back down, his dad wouldn't allow it, ensuring Branson's bottom remained on full display. As his father insisted, he stroked the base of the impressive shaft while continuing to lavish affection on its sensitive tip. Despite the soreness in his mouth, he didn't want to stop, driven by a desire for approval and affection.

The sensations intensified when the finger at his backdoor slipped past the rim, eliciting a muffled groan from Branson as the foreign object entered him. The sense of fullness and the sting of being stretched enveloped him, making him forget about the discomfort in his mouth.

As he instinctively pulled away from his dad's invasiveness, he inadvertently pushed his father's cock even deeper down his throat. His dad took that opportunity to praise him again, promising an explosive reward for all his efforts. "I'm gonna cum down your fucking throat, you little cock-sucking slut." The mixture of overwhelming sensations and emotions drove Branson to submit completely to his daddy's desires, eager for praise and the euphoric release that beckoned on the horizon.

Branson's mind went blank as the finger inside him continued to push and probe, eliciting sensations far beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. He was dimly aware of his dad's cock forcing its way further down his throat, but he could do nothing to stop it.

Suddenly, his father's penis pulsed and began to spray its load directly into Branson's throat, feeling like an intense, warm rain. Caught off guard, he instinctively tried to pull away, but his dad held him firmly in place, forcing him to submit and swallow each spurt of the thick, bitter fluid.

Despite the overwhelming nature of the experience, Branson couldn't help but hear his dad's words of affirmation and love. Amidst the intensity and his exhaustion, he held onto those words and cherished them, knowing he was doing exactly what his father wanted and making him happy.

The torrent of cum subsided, and Branson released the now-softening cock from his aching jaws. He watched with both fascination and exhaustion as his dad's manhood, now covered in a mixture of spit and white semen, pulsed ever so slightly, releasing the remnants of its tribute.

"I love you, Daddy," the fawn managed to whisper, his heart swelling with the emotions that came from obeying and pleasing his daddy.

"Good boy. Now, make sure you clean up Daddy's cock like a good boy, and I'll give you a reward." Branson watched as his father withdrew the digit that had previously claimed his entrance, leaving him feeling empty but satisfied.

As he dutifully began to lick his father's cock clean of the remaining evidence of their encounter, he discovered that the wholesome paste had a taste altogether different from before - not quite as delicious as the earlier samples, but still pleasantly mild. The act of love and devotion created a tantalizing flavor combination that only served to bind the two of them closer together in this shared, intimate experience.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, his father proclaimed, "And now it's time for your reward, Bran. You deserve something special for the best blow job I've had in a long time." The younger fawn couldn't help but turn and gaze up at his dad, whose impressive antler rack seemed to cast magnificent shadows in the dim light, making him appear strong and regal.

As the older stag directed his attention to that sensitive spot beneath Branson's uplifted tail, the fawn couldn't help but gasp in surprise when he felt his father's warm, wet tongue laving over his tender entrance. As pleasure shot up his spine, Branson's betrayed moan of surprise soon turned to one of unabashed enjoyment.

"Daddy, you're licking my butt," he said, stating the obvious, but still feeling the need to acknowledge the incredible sensation. As the initially soft member between his legs sprang back to life, he couldn't help but give in to the building sensations and began to buck slightly, pressing back against his dad's probing tongue.

His father didn't need any prompting or encouragement, but Branson found it exhilarating to say those naughty words, just as his daddy had done during their intimate play. The act of verbalizing his desires seemed to heighten his arousal, as well as his connection to his father.

As their bodies moved together in sync, Branson felt the broad tip of his dad's tongue seeking entrance to his most private places. Embracing his newfound confidence, he rocked back against the invasion, wishing for deeper contact. "Eat my hole, Daddy. I love it," he breathed, delighting in the forbidden words.

In an effort to allow his father's tongue deeper access, Branson lifted his tail as high as he could, feeling the strong arms encircling his hips for support. "Get your tongue in my butt," he begged, wanting to experience the full sensation of his daddy's probing. As the slippery appendage breached his rim, it felt even better than the finger from before, stretching his entrance more gently with its wet, spongy texture.

Feeling his father's slick, hard cock slap against his cheek, he turned to find it standing at attention once more, glistening with desire and ready for attention. Despite the lingering soreness in his jaw, Branson knew what his duty was and opened his mouth to receive the stiff member.

As he guided his dad's cock back between his lips, movement in the doorway caught his eye. Two silhouettes stood in the entrance - one tall and broad, adorned with a rack of antlers, and a smaller figure beside it. When recognition hit, Branson knew that his uncle and cousin were witness to their intimate moment. Yet, rather than shame or guilt, he felt a surge of pride in his new role. Determined to show his dedication to pleasuring his daddy, he proceeded to slowly, sensually suck his dad's cock for their watching guests.

"Looks like you've got yourself a dutiful cocksucker," Uncle Loren's voice echoed through the room, making Branson feel strangely validated in his actions. His father's approving groan vibrated against Branson's tongue, only serving to fuel his desire.

As the older stag and young fawn continued their play, Rafa stepped forward, approaching the bed with innocent curiosity. "Daddy, can I try to put Uncle Hartley's cock in my butt again? I know I can take it this time," he asked, clearly eager to emulate the connection he saw his cousin and uncle sharing. Branson felt a confusing mixture of jealousy at the thought of his cousin touching his daddy's special places and astonishment that such a thing was even possible with Rafa's small size and his dad's impressive girth.

Despite his complicated feelings, Branson couldn't deny the allure of watching his cousin attempt to take his dad's massive organ. Young Rafa clearly shared his eagerness, his eyes locked on the impressive cock as he quickly stripped off his t-shirt and shorts.

"I think that's up to your cousin and uncle to decide," Uncle Loren commented as he stepped fully into the room, his own hiking attire stretched tight by a noticeable bulge at his groin.

Branson released his dad's cock from his mouth, and in unison, the two of them questioned each other, curious about the other's opinion on the matter.

"I want to see him try," Branson said.

"Only if Bran says it's okay," his dad echoed.

They both laughed at the unusual synchronicity, and Uncle Loren joined in, chuckling as he illuminated the room with the simple flick of a light switch.

"Looks like we both have a couple of eager sluts on our hands," Loren commented, pointing out the curious predicament they found themselves in.

"I've already loosened him up for you this morning, so he might actually be able to take that monster cock," he continued, referring to their earlier activities.

Rafa, now completely nude, displayed a small erection atop his furry mound. At just over four inches, his budding stalk was slightly larger than Branson's own. Since Rafa was a little older, it made sense that he also might be a little bigger down there too. As he watched Rafa tug at his tender balls in anticipation, Branson couldn't help but appreciate how cute and endearing his cousin appeared in this new, intimate light.

As the tension in the room mounted, Branson slid off his dad's chest, making space for his cousin to assume the position. The older buck urged Rafa forward, saying, "Come on, Rafa. Get up here and let's get this beast inside your tight little hole." He patted the bed invitingly as the excited, naked fawn eagerly clambered up to claim his spot.

"I hope your dad came prepared," he glanced at Uncle Loren, who was grinning confidently.

"A stag scout is always prepared,"Uncle Loren responded with a sly wink as he delved into his pockets, producing a small, clear plastic bottle and a slightly smaller, brown glass one. He tossed them onto the bed and then began working on the buttons of his own shirt revealing his toned physique. Although slimmer than his brother, the younger stag was still well-built, carrying an air of strength and capability about him.

"Can I help you with your shorts?" Branson piped up, feeling a mix of shyness and curiosity as he watched his uncle disrobe. The desire to see his uncle fully unclothed, as he had in the water park, gnawed at him, and he was determined to assist in any way possible.

At Loren's nod, he quickly scrambled to his uncle's side and deftly worked at the fastening on his cargo shorts. There was no denying the hardness beneath the khaki material, the bulge eagerly anticipating release. The tantalizing promise of the fleshy appendage made the fawn's hands tremble slightly with eagerness as he unbuttoned and then pulled down his uncle's shorts.

No sooner had the garment been removed than the stag's semi-hard erection sprang forth, smaller in comparison to his brother's, yet impressive in its own right. The tip was already wet with clear, glistening fluid, inviting Branson's touch. The young fawn hesitated only a moment before he boldly reached out to wrap his hand around the inviting shaft, eyes shining with appreciation.

Feeling emboldened and determined, Branson sank to his knees before his uncle, taking the older stag's cock into his mouth without waiting for permission. The taste and sensation of his uncle's shaft was different from his father's, but still delicious in its own way. Branson discovered that, compared to his dad's substantial girth, he could slide this other manhood much further down his throat without issue, moaning in delight at the new experience.

"You weren't kidding. Fuck, he's a natural cock sucker," Uncle Loren marveled, hands gently guiding Branson's head as he pushed further into the fawn's willing mouth. The fit was tight, but not as painfully stretching as his father's, allowing Branson to truly relish the feeling of his uncle's cock filling his throat.

He happily worshipped the appendage for a couple of minutes before he realized he had successfully deep throated the entire length, feeling his uncle's balls press against his chin. Delighted with his newfound skill, Branson remembered to breathe through his nose, sucking hungrily to maximize his uncle's enjoyment.

"Fuck, Chief," Loren gasped, using his playful nickname for the fawn. "You better slow down, or I'm going to shoot too soon." Reluctantly, Branson withdrew, savoring the unique flavor of his uncle's pre-cum on his tongue before releasing his prize. The glistening, throbbing member stood proudly before them, slick with the fawn's saliva.

"You've definitely earned your deep throating badge today," his Uncle praised, recognizing his nephew's impressive accomplishments.

Meanwhile, Branson's father called from the bed, "Alright, get over here, cock sucker, and watch me split your cousin in two, so you'll know what I'll be expecting of you before too much longer." The excited young fawn quickly turned his attention to the pair eagerly waiting for them both, ready to continue their taboo journey.

Struggling to contain his excitement, Branson watched breathlessly as his cousin began to coat his father's manhood in slippery lubricant. The fawn's hands were barely able to encircle the impressive thickness of his dad's erection as he worked the slick gel into the mighty shaft. "Get me all lubed up, so I'll slip right in," he instructed the younger fawn.

Rafa, eager to please, straddled his father's waist, hooves planted firmly on either side of the older stag's hips. He lowered himself, lining his tailhole up with Branson's dad's imposing pole. Excitedly, he flicked his tail upwards, presenting his most private area to his uncle and cousin in anticipation of the act.

Doubtful of the possibility of such a coupling, Branson couldn't help but stare in fascination as he watched his cousin attempt to align himself with his father's immense member. Rafa's little cock twitched in anticipation, his body trembling with the effort as he repeatedly tried to impale himself on the engorged shaft.

However, each attempt only resulted in the head of the cock grazing against the outside of Rafa's tailhole. It was clear they needed a new approach. Sensing this, Uncle Loren stepped in. "Don't rush, baby. You don't need to try and show off for your cousin. Let's get you a little gooned up and we'll try again," He retrieved the brown glass bottle from the bed. He shook it and then carefully presented the open container under Rafa's nose.

Curious about the contents of the mysterious bottle, Branson inched closer, catching a whiff of the pungent chemical scent wafting from its mouth. Rafa took several deep breaths from the bottle, his body relaxing visibly, even as he struggled to maintain focus on the task at hand.

"That's it, butt slut," Branson's dad encouraged with a sigh. "Take some deep hits and get that hole loosened up for me. Bran'll help too," he said, winking at his son. "He'll guide his daddy's cock up that tight little fuck hole for you."

With renewed determination, Branson took his dad's sizable member in hand and carefully guided it towards Rafa's now loosened tailhole. The fawn's eyes fluttered, and he took a few more hits from the bottle as he readied himself to accept his uncle's substantial girth.

“I’m ready.” His words were barely a whisper, but they hung heavy in the air as Branson watched his cousin's tailhole stretch to accommodate his father's girth. Inch by inch, the impressive cock sank into the willing fawn, eliciting moans and gasps of pleasure from both participants.

"You're doing great, baby," Loren encouraged Rafa, coaching him through the process. "Take a deep breath and push back as you ease down. It's bigger than daddy's cock, but you can do it."

Branson marveled at his young cousin's ability to take such a massive erection, his heart swelling with excitement and a newfound sense of camaraderie. Watching Rafa's hole relax at the odor’s from the strange brown bottle affected him, Branson felt his own tailhole itch at the thought of being so filled.

As Rafa continued to inhale the potion, his body responded eagerly, two more inches of his dad's cock slipping in effortlessly. The sight was mesmerizing, and the young fawn couldn't help but feel a sense of longing as he imagined what it would feel like to have his own tailhole invaded in such a way.

"It's really going in Rafa. You're taking my daddy's big cock in your little butt." It must feel like someone's putting their whole arm inside. He felt his own tailhole itch at the thought of it. He remembered how good it felt when his dad's finger had touched something inside his butt and ached to know that feeling again.

Branson's dad, steadily adjusting to Rafa's tight embrace, groaned in ecstasy. "You're so fucking tight on my cock, slut. A few more inches, and I can really fuck your tight little pussy until you see stars."

Branson's own tailhole was aching. He really wanted to feel what it was like. He watched Rafa's face contort in ecstasy as another inch slowly crept inside. It was still not even half his father's length, but his little cocklet ached to feel the same. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his desires, Branson finally voiced his desperation. "Uncle Loren, I need you inside me," he pleaded, hoping that the older stag could provide the same sensation that Rafa was currently experiencing. The room seemed to grow still as everyone absorbed the gravity of Branson's request.

"You heard the slut, bro. Get in there and rearrange my son's guts." Branson's dad was visibly sweating as his cock continued to slowly slide inside his own nephew. 

"I'd love to, Chief," Uncle Loren was smiling broadly and his cock lurched as he walked back around the bed to nephew. A ribbon of clear cock slime dribbled from the end of his cock as he walked behind his nephew. He placed a guiding hand on Branson's back as the fawn placed his forelocks on the edge of the bed.

His new position put his face close to where his cousin and father were connecting, giving him a clear view of how Rafa's hole stretched around the invading member. He flicked his tail up giving his uncle a clear view of his own hole and focused his attention on the coupling in front of him.

His father's encouragement spurred Uncle Loren into action, a glint of excitement in his eye as he approached the eager young fawn. Tossing a playful smile at Branson, he made his way around the bed, his cock glistening and ready for use.

As Branson watched his cousin and father, he couldn't help but notice how Rafa's hole stretched to accommodate the older stag's girth. Their faces were contorted, either in pleasure or pain, Branson couldn't tell, but he found himself entranced by the sight. In that moment, as he took in their mingled moans, he realized he was ready, truly ready, for the next step.

Uncle Loren's fingers smeared cold lube over his hole and then felt his uncle’s thick cock head pressing against him. His mood suddenly shifted wildly. He had a moment of anxiety that maybe he wasn't ready. But then he saw Rafa's face as he inhaled from the brown bottle again and his hole relaxed to let in another inch. He was in pure heaven. 

Branson felt the pressure from the invading member, and though nerves threatened to take hold, he steeled himself, focussing on the look of euphoria on Rafa's face. His own gut clenched in anticipation. "Just stick it in me already," he pleaded, surprising himself with the need in his voice. “I need you to fuck me.”

The older stag nodded, no hesitation in his eyes, and promptly positioned himself behind Branson. At the fawn's urging, he bypassed any more teasing or tentative prodding, instead, pressing his cock directly against Branson's waiting tailhole.

As Loren's cock met Branson's tailhole, the fawn felt his body expand, the stretch intense and overwhelming. Inhaling sharply, he tried to relax into the sensation as his uncle slowly eased further in, making sure to pause and allow Branson's body to adjust. Each movement stung, but Branson felt a growing sense of satisfaction and fulfillment as he realized he was experiencing something truly unique and intimate with his uncle.

Reaching out a hand, Branson silently communicated his intention to his cousin, who promptly handed over the brown bottle. Mimicking Rafa's actions, the younger fawn took a deep whiff of the powerful substance, feeling its stinging sensation in his nostrils and a slight burn behind his eyes. But the dizziness that followed proved that its effects were nothing to take lightly. He quickly handed the bottle back.

Feeling emboldened and relaxed, Branson focused on allowing his uncle's cock to slide into him with greater ease. Remembering to exhale and push outward, he aided the process, gasping in pleasure as the slick shaft grazed that elusive spot within him. The sense of fullness and pressure, combined with the absolutely exquisite sensation that radiated from his tailhole was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

"Fuck, he's practically sucking me inside him," his uncle grunted, struggling to maintain control as Branson's body seemed to actively pull him in.

"He's a fucking natural cock sucker and a butt slut," Branson's dad agreed, his voice strained as he worked to push past the halfway point with Rafa. The older stag thrust upwards against Rafa's carefully timed movements, their mutual pleasure evident in their entwined moans and gasps.

"That's good enough for now, Rafa. Let your uncle take over." Branson watched in amazement as Rafa's stretched tailhole rotated around his dad's cock with each thrust. His cousin leaned back against Branson's dad’s chest, the large stag using his hands as hooks to gently lift and lower the younger fawn onto his immense shaft. Rafa's small erection bounced lewdly as his tiny cock hardened once more.

Taking advantage of the opportunity presented by Rafa's preoccupation, Branson leaned forward, grasping his dad's heavy balls in his hands. He began to lavishly lap at the sensitive orbs, reveling in the taste and texture of his dad's most intimate area. "Fucking slut, slobber on my nuts like a good boy," his dad encouraged, approving of Branson's attentions.

Meanwhile, Uncle Loren continued to slowly and carefully ease himself into Branson's receptive rear. The young fawn felt full, almost to the point of bursting, as his uncle's sizable erection stretched his tight ring to its limits. Finally, Loren announced, "You are a natural slut, just like your dad said. I'm hilted fully inside you," his words tinged with admiration and a hint of disbelief.

His father urged the older stag on, saying, "Then you better start rearranging his guts, just like I'm doing to your son. Don't hold back, my boy can take it." Branson certainly hoped that was true - the intense sensations had him teetering on the edge of ecstasy and pain.

As Uncle Loren began to move, Branson gasped, his body feeling as though it was being electrified with each thrust. His uncle would pull out almost entirely before plunging back into his nephew's willing body, the movement sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through the young fawn from deep within his tailhole.

Branson's body began to move in sync with his uncle's thrusts, echoing each plunge with his own backward movement. The feeling was incredible - an intoxicating mix of pleasure and fullness that was unmatched by any other experience. He never wanted it to end.

As they continued, Uncle Loren's urgency increased, his thrusts growing harder and faster. The sensation of the larger stag's balls smacking against his own nearly empty sack, paired with the intensity of his uncle's invasions, sent his mind spiraling deeper into bliss. His vision began to sparkle with every thrust, his body alight with the unbridled passion they shared.

Rafa's high-pitched moans filled the room, becoming more desperate with each plunge down on his father's cock. Branson could only imagine the ecstasy his cousin must have been feeling as he took his father's impressive member. It must be similar to his own, but the shear size of his father’s dick must make it far more intense.

With a final cry, Rafa climaxed, his small penis twitching as he found release but failing to produce any cum. For Branson, the mounting pleasure became too much to bear, and he began to cry out, "Harder. Harder, uncle!" urging his uncle to drive him further into euphoria. With each powerful thrust, the fawn edged closer to the brink, his little dick throbbing with the force of his need.

Overwhelmed by pleasure, Branson began nipping at his dad’s massive balls. He sought some outlet for the pleasure that was sparking through his body. His little cock spasmed and his shudder wracked his body as he grunted in ecstasy.

He heard his father cry out, "Fuck, he's chewing my fucking nuts. I'm gonna burst!" just as his own vision began to blur. The older stag shouted in ecstasy, as he plunged into his nephew with renewed vigor. Rafa’s now slack hole was forced even wider as Branson’s dad sought to plunge his cock in fully. He still only got two-thirds in before his balls began twitching and his cock flexed as he released his seed into the willing young fawn.

"Right behind you, brother," Uncle Loren grunted, his hips yanking Branson's waist back hard as he came. The young fawn could feel the warmth of his uncle's release spreading through his backside, filling and coating his insides with joyful satisfaction. He wondered if he produced as much as his father, whose white globs of cream were dripping down his shaft.

Spent and sated, the four family members lay together, their bodies intertwined and glistening with the aftermath of their passion. Branson felt the wet warmth of his father's now-flaccid penis as it slipped from Rafa's gaping hole and brushed against his cheek. Grateful to provide some small measure of comfort, the young fawn gently cleaned the remaining traces of the older stag's seed from his member.

His uncle sighed, his breathing slowing as he sank back onto the bed, basking in the afterglow of their shared experience. Branson couldn't help but steal a glance at Rafa's well-used tailhole, marveling at the ruin and brutality of the act they had committed together. It gaped open, as it leaked his father’s essence.

"Fuck, Lorey. I don't think I'm up for hiking today. How about we take a quick nap instead?" his father suggested tiredly, his body already drifting towards slumber.

"Yeah, a nap sounds pretty good right now," agreed Uncle Loren, as he too succumbed to the need for rest.

One by one, the family members gave in to the exhaustion that washed over them like a gentle breeze, carrying them to the realm of dreams where they would temporarily escape the memories of their recent activities and the weight of the bonds they had forged. Branson's hand absentmindedly strayed to his exhausted, yet still hard, cubhood, seeking comfort and reassurance as the young fawn drifted towards slumber.

Even as his eyelids began to droop, he held onto the hope that this was not the end of their adventures together. He couldn't wait for the next opportunity to partake in some "guy time," eager to explore the depths of his desire and love for his family. And as his father slipped into a deep slumber, he dreamt when it would be his turn to feel the stag filling him instead of his cousin.