It's good to be a Robinson

 

It's good to be a Robinson

 

Disclaimer: I do not own nor am affiliated with the property Meet the Robinsons. I make no profit from this fanfic.

 

When you're the sole reason the world is a better place, you have a lot of sway. By happy accident, Cornelius makes it legal to 'be close' with his son.

 

Warnings: PWP/Incest/Minor1/Slash. A small amount of M/M/F. Sappiness.



 

 

It's surprising just how much sway a man has when he's the sole inventor of almost every piece of world-changing tech there is. Solve the energy crisis and people pay attention to what you think. Make world peace fiscally viable and what you think is automatically considered progressive - when you're a genius and the masses don't understand you, they assume the problem is with them.

 

The first few social changes were mostly accidents - a complete revamp of the system that allowed children to be abandoned. A total cultural adoption of 'men like him' to be the ideal. Children became planned events and it was considered a crime for any to be made by accident - criminal negligence.

 

Then incest became considered a healthy, well-adjusted response to the over-sexed instincts that were mankind's greatest flaw. That had been a bit of a shock. It had also started as an accident - Cornelius had recently been reading 'the classics' of revolutionary thinking - works by Herodotus, Plato, Xenophon and Athenaeus. The ancient Greek world had some surprisingly open opinions on the acceptability of sex with young boys and girls and, as with many things in ancient Greece, they seemed the forerunner of modern society.

 

Cornelius had found it fascinating at the time and had thought - a trifle guiltily- about his son in a different light afterward, but the change that overtook society after his expression of opinion honestly took him by surprise.

 

A gala event - one of many - a glass of wine too much, nothing indecent just enough to make him comfortable and he had been sharing his findings freely with his crowd of well-connected admirers.

 

They had exclaimed and hummed with attention as he extolled the virtues of raising boys to be closer emotionally and physically than the current societal model. He waxed poetic about how their society had twisted itself around to punish itself for some types of physical interactions over others, with children and adults alike. He gesture grandly as he spoke of the necessity in times past - when their species was less enlightened and capable of protecting the disadvantaged and how that time was no longer - how now we were ready.

 

He still protested, to this day, that he'd never actually said 'hey, wouldn't it be awesome if we could fuck our own children?' but apparently whatever he'd said had been enough.

 

Changes were made, great sweeping adjustments in perceptions and opinions and laws.

 

All of which led to this: Cornelius sitting at his desk in his private lab at home, absently stroking his son's thigh as the boy sat on his lap and chattered about his day.

 

This was his favorite time of the day, when it was possible. Often he got caught up in the lab and came home after Wil was already asleep - or he simply was out of the country entirely. But those days when he could just come home and relax... They were priceless. Wil was always so happy to see him and nothing wiped the stress of the day from his shoulders like the hour or two they spent together before bedtime.

 

It wasn't a scheduled time for sex, of course. The entire point was that it didn't need to be - physical closeness was not something to be closeted away any more than a hug would be. It was relaxing simply because Cornelius could spend time with his son who was slowly unlearning the 'bad habits' of social and physical distance that most boys were raised with as they aged. It was relaxing because Wil no longer minded cuddling with him, an action which calmed the boy himself as much as his father.

 

And, okay, yes - he'd be lying if he said it wasn't also relaxing to be able to slowly guide the cuddling to kissing, then to rubbing.

 

Sometimes that was all he wanted - that closeness. He could and did spend those couple of hours just stroking and petting, licking and tasting and kissing as his son giggled and snuggled and tentatively kissed back.

 

And, sometimes, he was hard before he even made it home at just the thought of his son's tiny, lithe body. His delicate feet and hands and fingers. His smooth and pale skin.

 

His wife was beautiful, of course, but she was also a woman - his best friend and beloved partner, but one who just didn't get 'the urge' as often as he did. He didn't resent her reduced sex drive, just as she didn't resent his increased libido. It had long been something they'd just compromised on and with the recent changes, even that was no longer necessary. He was always happy to be approached by her and she was comfortable in the knowledge that she was desirable to him.

 

In an effort to truly overturn the old stigma, Cornelius had taken to discussing with her the time he spent with his son - everything from the movie they watched together to the thing he did with his tongue that made Wilbur writhe and pant, for all that the boy was only thirteen.

 

Interestingly, the discussions often led to Franny initiating some wind-down time of their own. Cornelius was counting down the days until his wife simply cut out the middle man and added a different spice of play-time to her interactions with her son during the day.

 

One day soon, the three of them would do something together. Perhaps make a day of it - go out on a picnic by their lake and play frisbee, charge-ball or go swimming. Then they'd have something light but delicious to eat and afterward - whilst waiting until it was safe to go swimming again - he and Franny would tease and torment Wilbur between them. Perhaps Franny, with her clever dexterity, would impale herself and her son on a double-dildo, pleasuring herself even as she rocked the fleshy prosthetic into Wil's small hole. Cornelius himself would lay over them, suckling his son's cock and balls until little Wil was riding the edge, then he'd back off until the boy was whining with that adorable little frown he got when he didn't get his way.

 

Franny would push him up, force him to ride at an angle which rubbed the boy's prostate and Cornelius would chuckle to see it, guiding his son and teaching him to ride without his mother's help, then sit back and admire the view as Wil flexed and rocked and writhed himself and his mother to climax.

 

Once they were done, Franny would cradle Wil in her lap and coax him to open for his father's cock, which would be almost painfully hard by now. A little sleepy and sulky, their son would nevertheless obey his mother and open his mouth - he really was such a good boy - and try to fit as much of his father in as he could. His tongue would lick and rub and a little spittle would escape his mouth as he sucked and made cute little grunting noises at the exertion.

 

And oh, how Cornelius would love every second of it, seeing Franny's dark eyes smile at him as she gently fondled Wil's own cock, delicately teaching their son to associate pleasure with the act. He would thrust, so carefully, into his son's little mouth. Maybe, probably, that day he wouldn't be able to get it all in. It would take practice before his son could swallow him all, the way his mother did, but every day they practiced it would be one to be cherished as - like so many childhood milestones - once it was achieved it was in the past forever.

 

Thinking of that far-off day (though hopefully not too far) was a fond daydream, but one that was having a rather pronounced affect on his current state. Even Wilbur, self-preoccupied at the best of times, noticed. His son broke off from his enthusiastic retelling of that day's "Captain Adventure" plot and shifted against the bulge in his father's pants, throwing an exasperated look over his shoulder.

 

"Either you found captain adventure's daily peril way more exciting than I did, or you weren't paying attention" Wil said reproachfully, sliding off of Cornelius' lap and pulling his t-shirt off in a manner that had his father salivating.

 

Cornelius shot his son a guilty-as-charged look of sheepish embarrassment.

"Sorry, son." He said, blue eyes skimming over smooth skin and watching as baggy shorts were tugged down and discarded. "You know how I get sometimes." Even if he had been listening, it wouldn't help that the 'Captain Adventure' he was most familiar with was the old penthouse comic book character.

 

Wil snorted, at that age where he pretended he knew a lot more than he actually did. Of course, his son probably had some idea that his father had been thinking about touching and sucking instead of Captain Adventure, and Cornelius wasn't about to share that he'd actually gotten hard over the thought of going on a picnic at some point.

 

Once he was naked, Wilbur waited impatiently - crossed arms and tapping foot and all - for his father to disrobe as well, something Cornelius did with a startled chuckle. He'd come straight from the lab, so he draped his lab coat over the boy before stripping over his sweater and shirt in one move and tugging down his pants and underwear in the next.

 

Of course, then his pants and underwear got caught on his shoes, which he'd forgotten to take off first.

 

Wilbur broke out into giggles, shrugging on the lab coat and dropping to his knees to tug at the shoes.

 

"You're so uncool sometimes, Dad." His son ribbed him, yanking at the shoe till it came abruptly off and he fell backwards to sprawl with splayed legs. As the labcoat hung off his shoulders and did nothing to conceal the naked body within it, Cornelius had a little difficult getting enough blood to the brain to reply with "You're looking a little uncool yourself right now son. Must run in the family." To which Wil just rolled his eyes and yanked the other shoe off.

 

Cornelius, who hadn't stood up once during this whole production, toed off his pants but left his socks.

 

"Come on, then" He invited, arms wide.

 

Wil rolled his eyes again but came more than willingly, crowding in close for a hug before ducking suddenly and running a completely unexpected tongue up his cock from balls to crown.

 

Cornelius cried out, almost losing it right then and there, causing his son to giggle again.

 

"Mischievous brat" Cornelius growled, pulling his son up off the floor and onto his lap. With his other hand he fished an item out from one of his labcoat's pockets, then ran it down his cock out of sight.

 

The look on Wil's face, when Cornelius shoved him suddenly downward and onto his cock, was classic.

 

Expecting a dry burn, Wil gave a deep throated cry when instead the thick spike of flesh slid slickly into him.

 

"Mean" His son gasped, always needing to have the last word, even as he was speared on his father's cock, pulled up and pushed down by two large hands wrapped around his rib cage under his shoulders. "Ungh, yeah, dad... Dad..."

 

"Should have seen your face." Cornelius teased huskily, barely out of breath. Wind-down time was also surprisingly good for physical fitness in general. "You really thought I'd fuck you dry?"

 

"Nnngh." Wil groaned, a little less capable of talking under pressure. "I guess... Mom... Ah! Dad! Uhn... I guess mom.. Wouldn't be happy..."

 

"Neither would I." Cornelius said sternly, abruptly stopping the push-pull motion and pausing with only the tip of his cock still inside his boy. "Wil. You know that, right? I'm your father, and I love you. I Will never - ever - do anything that hurts you, or frightens you."

 

"I know Dad!" Wil whined, writhing as he tried unsuccessfully to get his father's cock back inside him.

 

"Wilbur Robinson." Cornelius had to make sure about this - there had to be an understanding, had to be confidence and love and acceptance or none of this was okay.

 

Wil stopped squirming - mostly - and looked him in the eye.

 

"I know, Dad." he said again, more seriously. His small hands were resting on Cornelius' shoulders, the labcoat scrunched up and baggy on his arms, the main body of it hanging down his back to pool on the floor. His thin legs, stretched out to fall on either side of Cornelius', didn't touch the ground. His entire weight rested in Cornelius's hand - and on his cock.

 

"Good." Cornelius smiled and slammed the boy down, gaining a delicious whine as his width split the boy open again. He upped the pace, then, lifting his son and shoving him down over and over, faster and faster. He couldn't stop his own hips from thrusting up, though the angle wasn't quite right to make this as hard as he wanted it to be.

 

"Ah! Uhn! Dad!" Wil yelped, over and over. "Ung... uhn... Oh, oh, Dad, Dad!"

 

Then his son was coming, with the abruptness of youth. Small, thin white spurts spattered Cornelius' chin, but most of it landed on Wil's own chest and belly.

 

Cornelius slowed and stopped, cradling his son - his cock nestled deep within him - as the dark-haired boy trembled and recovered.

 

This was the point where his son was normally exhausted and just wanted to sleep. Cornelius was working on increasing the boy's recovery time, but didn't mind finishing himself off alone if his son wanted to stop now

 

Wil slumped forward, snuggling against him as though to sleep, stuffed full of cock and all.

 

The thought of it made his hips twitch.

 

"What're you waiting for?" His son sassed sleepily. "Fill me up, Dad."

The sweaty dark head of hair pulled back a little, the shift in weight a pleasurable kind of torture for him. "I know you want to." His son added shyly. "And... And I want it too. I wanna go to sleep tonight with your cum still in me... Can I, Dad?"

 

Cornelius licked dry lips.

 

"Of course you can, son." He promised hoarsely. "Do you wanna help daddy out?"

 

Wil hummed and dropped his head back to his father's shoulder, but his muscles rippled as he began to lethargically gyrate in his father's lap.

 

Cornelius stilled and groaned, his hands dropping to his son's hips as he forced himself to just sit there and enjoy it. His son, a warm, sleepy weight against his chest. His son's legs, sweaty and fragile, tossed wantonly over his own. His son's hole, greedily sucking in his cock to the root.

 

His son, wriggling with neither coherence nor pattern, just moving side to side and forward and backward and even up and down a little as he pleasured his father.

 

Cornelius tilted his head back until it rested on the back of the chair, his mouth wide open as he breathed heavily. His hands tightened on his son's hips, taunting himself with the possibility of just grabbing him and fucking him onto his cock until he spilled.

 

Waking up a little, his son moved a little more deliberately, now obviously trying to feel out the best way to move to get the most reaction. Running experiments.

 

Cornelius groaned, unable to contain himself any longer. He stood, Wil gasping a little as the change in angle made the fit a little tighter, pushed the cock inside him against that spot a little more harshly. He wrapped his legs around his father's waist on instinct, them gripped him tightly as Cornelius finally gave in and just hammered the boy as fast as he could, gripping the slim hips and yanking him down on his cock, pushing into him as he did, then away and then back again. Each quick thrust was shallow and rough, Cornelius trying to fuck his way deeper into his son with each stroke.

 

Wil, not blissed out on pleasure of his own this time, reacted with tiny, mewling little grunts as his father punched into him, until finally Cornelius slammed home and stayed there, spurting hot come deep into his son, loving the way Wil's face twisted slightly at the feel of it.

 

He shuffled forward, laying Will down on the desk before him, laying sucking, adoring kisses all along the boy's throat and collarbone, thrusting lightly as he pulsed the last of his load into him.

 

Wil hummed, a deeply satisfied sound that Cornelius wanted to hear every day for the rest of their lives.

 

"Don'... forget your promise." Wil breathed, his anal walls fluttering around his father's wilting cock, trying to keep the cum in.

 

Cornelius blinked and stretched a bit, fumbling around in the top drawer of his desk until he extracted a random piece of machinery that would do the job.

 

It was a rounded piece of metal, about as thick as his cock but much shorter. It had no flared base, but from one end there dangled a thick cord of wire that could be used to pull it safely out again later.

 

"I gotcha" Cornelius promised, pulling carefully free and shoving the makeshift plug in as quickly as he could, eliciting a disgruntled noise from Wil as Cornelius hadn't thought to warm the metal first.

 

"Helps you feel it a little more, doesn't it?" He whispered apologetically, before lowering his head to lick at the small amount of cum that had escaped.

 

"Feels weird." Wil grunted, shifting restlessly. "But I like it."

 

Cornelius gave the cord a teasing tug and laughed as his son clenched harshly down against the threat of the plug being removed.

 

"I'll make something better for next time." He promised. "Something special, just for you." He couldn't resist bending down to lick and kiss and nibble along Wil's deliciously bared pelvis, the v of muscle just too attractive to ignore. He felt his son's cock stiffen slightly, even as the boy himself moaned in tired irritation.

 

"Sorry.” He smiled. "Bed time?"

 

He didn't wait for a response, already scooping the boy into his arms. Wil lay draped against him, face against his shoulder, arms dangling. Cornelius rested one hand on his back whilst his other arm supported his son, 'accidentally' putting pressure against his hole, making the boy shift against him even half asleep.

 

They made it to Will's bedroom undisturbed, where Cornelius wiped his son down gently with a warm wet cloth and put him to bed. He sat by his son for awhile, remembering the distance they'd already been cultivating before, in the boy's pre-teen years, grateful anew for this change in society that had resulted in himself and his son experiencing a closeness like never before.

 

Gently, he kissed his son's forehead and left his room, activating the security protocols with an absent gesture.

 

Later, as he slipped into his own bed, Franny turned over and rested an arm over him.

 

"Good night?" She asked, half asleep herself. Cornelius smiled.

 

"The best."

 

 

END.

 

 

 

Should I continue? If you enjoyed it and want more, please let me know!



This is the... nicest... thing I've ever written. Normally I'm all “Blah blah, skip to the porn.” so I'm interested to see how this turns out. :)