Patreon Compilation – Fic#173 – Hank/Connor – detachable genitals; Connor has a pussy; unknowing use of his detached puss; but it is very much appreciated – Rocky Start

Hank/Connor – Hank has a -need- and there is surprisingly enough a toy in his bedside drawer... so he uses it :)

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Hank isn’t usually too horny… at least he didn’t use to be too horny. Not since losing his son and getting the divorce and developing a fat beer gut and generally watching his life go down the drain-

Tends to kill the libido, these kinds of things.

But since his big case with Connor and starting to kind of… get together… with him, all of that has started to change.

Not that they’ve fucked yet. He doesn’t even know if Connor’s model can fuck. Do they got any parts to allow it? He tries to figure out what it would feel like to get dicked by a guy. Not that he wouldn’t like it, he just hasn’t tried it yet and Connor does look male presenting and he uses male pronouns so if he has any interfacing parts it would probably be a dick, right? Right…

He can’t imagine that they would put a nice, silky little hole on a model that is meant to be a detective unit and nothing else.

Doesn’t change that he’s horny and really wants to fuck. Especially after Connor moves into his house and starts to fix up all the shit that got broken over the years-

Stuck in a horny haze, Hank starts to rummage through his bedside drawer, wondering if he got anything to take the edge off in there. He can’t remember if he even has any toys left… they might be too old to even use.

That’s not even your usual bedside drawer, you old bastard. Connor took your side.

The thought comes when he pulls open the drawer and sees that there’s nothing at all inside.

He moves to Connor’s side of the bed. The kid is still out at the precinct, doing work that Hank told him he should just push to another time because Heaven knows no other asshole is bothering with it-

Ah. Fuck there is… there actually is a toy. Lying neatly on a piece of clean cloth is a pocket cunt that he can’t remember ever having purchased but looks too good to be true. He doesn’t ask questions and just grabs it.

It looks so cute, too… pudgy little labia with a few dark moles on them, and rosy pink insides. Fuck- how could he have forgotten ever purchasing such a thing? Might have done it in a drunken stupor or something.

He sits down heavily on the bed, thick fingers slowly dragging along the gash of the pocket cunt, then pushing the labia apart to have a peek inside. Everything is so silky soft… it feels almost criminal to be touching it with his dirty paws. Like an old pervert that is stalking some college girls at the mall or some shit.

Hank leans over and grabs the lube. It doesn’t look like he purchased the correct size of pussy – it is so damn tiny looking, he wonders if he’ll even manage to squeeze his beercan cock inside.

He’s already hard. Sitting down like he is now, he can’t see his cock but he can feel it pressing against the lower swell of his beer gut, hot and throbbing in time with his heartbeat – strong and calm. He is a bit nervous about using a fleshlight after such a long time, and maybe Connor coming home to see it – but it’s also a good kind of nervous.

A horny, I-am-not-doing-anything-wrong kind of nervous.

The lube gets the cunt to glisten so sweetly. He almost wants to kiss it. Drag his tongue through the silky soft labia and round the little opening that he is sure won’t even fit around the fat head of his dick. But he’ll try. Oh fuck will he try.

He shuffles his ass back over the bed until he can lean against the headboard. There’s a mirror at the other side of the room that is just positioned well enough to give him a glimpse of what he’s doing.

He watches himself, an old fat, washed up cop, reach beneath his gut to grab a hold of his massive beer can dick. Stocky and fat and adorned with thick veins pulsing along the sides of the shaft as he nearly fumbles the pocket cunt out of his other hand as he guides it down as well.

If he had done it without staring in the mirror, it wouldn’t have been difficult, but the directions in a reflection are always a little weird to follow. He can’t take his eyes off of it, though – the sight of the little pussy working so hard to spread open on his dick is mesmerizing.

.oOo.

Connor’s knee joints keep giving out as his system is distracted with the feelings flooding through. He had not thought it necessary to manually offline his vagina, leaving him in this predicament.

Warnings come flooding in, scrolling through his periphery and nearly keeping him from crawling into the backseat of the waiting car. He’s pretty sure that his internal fans are so loud that passersby can hear them whirring, which is a whole different kind of embarrassment he feels as he clenches his thighs together and-

Oh no… what now? What is that?! Connor’s voicebox gurgles as he lunges forward, grabbing a hold of the front seats and holding on for dear life as what feels like a blunt beercan starts to be gently shoved into his poor, factory-new pussy. The warnings in his periphery become so loud that for a few beats he can only see red.

He jerks his head to the side and blinks profusely, shutting down all the system warnings. He knows he is getting overwhelmed; he doesn’t need them further obscuring his vision to let him know that the feeling of something big and warm and firm pushing into his poor pussy is making him have a moment on the backseat of the car.

For the first time in his short life he knows exactly what the human phrase ‘it feels like forever’ means when the car finally stops in front of Hank’s house (his house now, too) and he almost crawls his way on all fours toward the door.

.oOo.

Hank startles when Connor suddenly stands in the doorway… but not enough to actually stop and feel embarrassed about having sat his naked ass on the bed to get down with a pocket cunt he found. It’s natural, right? It’s human. Connor of all things should be able to appreciate it.

Or something like that; his brain is too horny to think properly.

And Connor doesn’t look good. Or… he does, he really really does – but he looks on the verge of some kind of meltdown. His usually perfect hair is in disarray and his skin has been flooded with blue from all the cooling liquid that is being pumped through his body at high pressure.

Hank stares at him with his mouth gaping as his fist unthinkingly pulls the cute little cunt back down on his dick, making it stretch nice and wide to hug around him so silky and perfect-

and Connor’s knees almost buckle, his fingers curling so tight around the doorframe, Hank can hear the wood starting to splinter without resistance.

He doesn’t know why his brain jumps first to the conclusion that he is fucking Connor’s little cunt… but it is what is suddenly at the forefront of his mind and what seems so plausible and real that he can’t help but know that it is the truth.

They lock eyes. Connor’s mouth opens but for once, he doesn’t have anything smart to say. He doesn’t have to say anything at all as he watches Hank slowly pull the boy’s pussy off his cock, letting the distressed little hole practically mouth on his tip – and then gently forces it back down once again.

Connor’s eyes widen, his thighs visibly clenching together around what is undoubtedly a featureless mound right now… or does he have another little cunt? One he goes to work with? Or maybe a pretty cock he likes to wear while out and about? Hank is suddenly absolutely obsessed with the thought of what else Connor might be doing without him being any the wiser.

“Is it yours?” he rasps, voice shot.

Connor… doesn’t answer. He becomes, if possible, just a little more blue, his free hand moving to his crotch like a damn kid about to piss their pants, just standing there, looking shy of all things, and staring blankly at Hank’s dick.

He’s probably never seen a beercan cock like his.

Hank sucks on his crooked front teeth, his fist tightening slightly around the pocket cunt to move it back off his dick… then back on again.

Now that Connor is here and so close, he can feel it starting to come alive around his dick, pulsating and mouthing weakly at him. There’s even a bit of slippery lubricant starting to drool from the stretched-out opening-

“Is it yours, Con?” he asks again, biceps bulging with how much he holds himself back.

Connor looks on the verge of tears, knees visibly shaking as his body goes through all the stages of grief just from feeling himself get speared on dick… and then he slowly nods; just giving in to fate.

“Y-Yes, Lieutenant…”

God, fuck, yes, call him Lieutenant while he molds that pretty little cyborg pussy into the shape of his ruddy dick-

“Come here. Put it where it needs to go. Let me fuckin’ see.”

Connor looks a bit taken aback – but then he starts to smile, all shy with a goddamn dimple… and then moves toward him.