Son and Lover
Copyright© 2026 by Ring of Seed
Chapter 3: The Jealousy Trigger
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 3: The Jealousy Trigger - Damien Blackwood swore he'd never become the man his father was. Then his grown son moved home — and everything Damien buried came roaring back. A slow descent into obsession, guilt, and surrender. No redemption. Just them. Forever.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Consensual Reluctant Romantic Gay Fiction Incest Son Father Light Bond Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Oral Sex
The Friday briefing dragged. Damien sat at the back of the incident room. Arms folded. Half-listening to the DI run through the latest on the county lines operation. Faces on the screen. Phone numbers. Known addresses. Routine. Boring. His mind wasn’t there.
It kept sliding back to the house in Lewisham. To Ryan.
Shirtless in the hallway light. Sweat on his collarbone. The knee pressed against his at breakfast. Warm. Deliberate. The way Ryan had looked up through the Resus glass. Small private smile. Like he knew exactly what Damien was thinking.
You’re imagining it. He’s your son. He’s just being a son.
But the heat in his gut wouldn’t listen. It sat low. Heavy. Refusing to fade. Every time he tried to push it down it rose again. Sharper. Hotter. He shifted in the chair. Jaw tight.
By four o’clock he’d had enough. He told the team he had a lead to chase. Grabbed his coat. Left early. The rain was steady now. Drumming on the car roof as he drove.
He told himself he needed to clear his head. Blow off steam. It had been years. Proper years. Since he’d done this. A quick clean release. No names. No strings. Just enough to shut the noise down.
He pulled into a side street near Victoria. Found a quiet spot. Took out his phone. The app was still there. Buried in a folder labelled “Utilities.” He’d used it twice before. Both times after bad cases. Anonymous. Discreet. Safe.
He booked. Ground-floor room at the Travelodge. Cash on arrival. Companion: Anna. Mid-thirties. Brunette. Arrive 9 p.m.
He stared at the confirmation for a long minute. Thumb hovered over cancel.
Then he locked the screen. Started the engine. Drove home.
Ryan finished shift at six. The A&E had been steady. Not quiet. Not chaos. He scrubbed out. Changed in the locker room. Checked his phone. No messages from Damien.
He drove home through the rain. Wipers sweeping slow arcs. The house was dark when he pulled up. Damien’s car wasn’t in the drive.
Inside the hallway light was off. Coat gone from the hook. No note on the kitchen table.
Ryan stood in the quiet kitchen. Keys still in his hand. The house felt bigger without Damien in it. Colder.
He texted: Home early tonight?
No reply.
He made tea. Let it go cold. Paced the living room. Checked his phone again. Nothing.
The unease settled in his chest. Small at first. Then heavier. Damien had been off all week. Distant. Eyes lingering too long. Then snapping away. The way he’d frozen in the hallway last night. Gaze burning.
Ryan knew that look. He’d waited years to see it.
He tried to shake it off. Grabbed his keys. Headed for the door. A pint with mates might help. Clear the head.
Halfway to the pub he turned the car around.
He came home early instead.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.