It was still dark. From his pillow, the kitchen was sideways. He'd come out of sleep so gently, he didn't know how long he'd been awake. How long had he been listening to the pitter-patter of rain outside? How long had he been feeling the soft breaths of the big dog cradling him?

	Scamp never liked waking up before dawn, never liked the gloomy stillness of a house always so bright and busy. Every dark corner could be a monster's hiding place. But tonight, he just smiled. It wasn't scary, not even a little bit. He'd fallen asleep with the Tramp curled around him. He was suddenly glad to be awake, to be aware enough to enjoy the company of his living sanctuary. He shut his eyes again, keeping still. He didn't want to disturb his impenetrable fortress of warmth and gray fur.

	Behind him, the rest of the family slept soundly. His mother and three sisters were likely curled up in much the same way as he and his father. Dreaming about whatever girls dream about. Rainbows and unicorns and stuff. Though, he had a feeling Annette and Colette might have been dreaming about something else. Let 'em dream. They're not getting my cock again unless they're really nice to me.

	His focus drifted to the rain. More than a drizzle, less than a storm. As much as he loved to play in it, there was something so wonderfully cozy about being inside, all safe and dry, listening to the sound of it on the roof. Tramp once described it as "nature's lullaby," but it wouldn't put Scamp to sleep now. Too enjoyable. Too perfect.

	As he watched long snakes of water running down the windows against the light of the streetlamps, Tramp's breathing changed. Was he awake, too? Maybe some part of him sensed his son's mind stirring. "You awake, Pop?" Scamp asked in a whisper so gentle it wouldn't rouse him if not.

	A big paw came between Scamp's forelegs to caress his chest. "Mhm," Tramp whispered back. "You okay?"

	Scamp rested his own small paw on the one at his chest and nodded.

	"Bad dream?"

	"No, I think the rain woke me up." Now that he was free to move around, he stretched mightily before squirming further into his father's protection. He felt a big yawn over his shoulder and yawned in turn. His vision was blurring. Sleep would return soon, and why not? It would only make tomorrow come faster, and they could find another secret place to be naughty.

	Just as Scamp surrendered and shut his eyes, Tramp's paw moved lower - far lower, below Scamp's belly and between his hind legs. The pup's eyes shot open. His nethers began springing to life, always so ready to be touched. But now? Here? Privates were strictly off limits with family so close by. Tramp never broke that rule. What on Earth was he doing? Lady, Danielle, Annette, and Colette were all just a few paces away. For howling out loud, Scamp could hear them breathing!

	Maybe it was an accident. Maybe his father didn't realize where he was touching. It seemed possible until the paw performed a very deliberate grasping of Scamp's sheath. He couldn't turn to see Tramp's face, so he just kept watching the rainwater on the windows, wondering what was even happening. The paw began pulling downward, exposing the naked puppy-penis to the air. Once he was fully unsheathed, Tramp stopped and moved to his little balls. Scamp felt a muzzle against his ear, then a whisper. The voice was smooth and delicate. Like smoke from a candle.

	"Can you be quiet?"

	Scamp shivered at his father's breath and nodded without a second thought. Can I, really? The pup hoped so. Tramp was already rubbing, not gripping, just sliding his big paw back and forth between his son's legs. Each movement was very slow and deliberate. Such gentle motions. Scamp couldn't believe they were actually going to do this right here. They'd already played earlier, so he wasn't particularly needy. Of course, he'd never turn down extra orgasms, but why was his dad doing this? Surely it couldn't be worth the risk. Did he enjoy the thrill?

	Now Tramp pressed harder, trapping the little cock between his paw and Scamp's belly. Scamp couldn't stop himself. He had to push back. Tramp knew just how to tickle his son's mating instincts, and Scamp wrapped his forepaws around Tramp's to begin meeting that slow rhythm. The pup's feet found Tramp's legs for stability and their timing was flawless from then on. Slide down, thrust. Slide up, withdraw. Not a single misstep, and for Scamp it felt incredible. So dirty and naughty. It was easy for him to imagine humping a girl like that, to pretend he was mating with Roxy at the club, or maybe one of his sisters. But he didn't need to. The young pup was perfectly happy with the reality of tonight, even with the danger. His father was the one making him feel this good, and he loved him far too much to fantasize about anything else.

	Scamp was becoming more and more focused. That special sensation was rising up. The closer he got, the less he seemed to care about being discovered. Orgasm was in reach now, and he wanted it. Tramp didn't miss a thing. His paw matched his son's speed. Scamp tucked his head under Tramp's foreleg as far as he could, afraid he might moan.

	"Close?"

	Scamp nodded, not stopping. Cleanup was the furthest thing from his mind at that moment. He didn't care where it all ended up. This orgasm would be worth a few mysterious stains. Just then, Tramp shifted. The faint sound of metal sliding across the floor perked Scamp's ears and he looked up to see his water bowl. Tramp parked it near his son's tummy.

	"In here," Tramp whispered.

	I love him so much.

	Scamp started humping like he meant it. Again, the talented father's paw kept up with no trouble. He knew his son so well, all his tells and rhythms. He knew exactly what his horny little body wanted out of this. Shortly after the bowl was in place, the tingle crawled up Scamp's legs and through his hips. The pup shivered and shook, enjoying those brief moments just before. At the last second, Tramp grabbed behind his knot and aimed at the bowl.

	"Go for it, pal."

	When the first squirt came out, Scamp held his breath. He had a promise to keep, and he couldn't make a sound, no matter how good it felt. The churning feeling spread all the way up his belly while sperm mixed with water in the bowl. Tramp's paw was so wonderfully tight around the knot, tugging and squeezing in a hypnotic tempo. Scamp's right foot thumped against the leg it had been using as leverage, and his jaw shut tight in an attempt to silence himself, but each breath came hard and fast through clenched teeth.

	"Shhhh," hushed his father affectionately. The other paw rested on Scamp's head as if to comfort him through his climactic ordeal.

	Something about this encounter had stirred up quite an orgasm in the puppy. It was so deep and powerful. He hugged his father's foreleg to thank him as he came harder and longer than he had in weeks. It flushed all the way through him like a chill. Over the rain, he could just make out the sound of his streams hitting the water...or was that his imagination? He didn't care. On some level, Scamp was proud of how copious his ejaculations could be, but at his core, he was a shameless pleasure hound, only after that warm, delicious bliss. The kind that made his muscles tired. The kind that left him exhausted afterwards. Orgasms like the one that was currently ravaging his sensitive, young body.

	The pup's hips slowed their heaving first, then his gray belly. Finally, he was still. The blinding pleasure began to dissipate, and Scamp was almost glad for it, unsure how much longer he could remain silent. It waned gradually and left a beautiful tingle in his lower parts. As Scamp relaxed, it surged into a crushing afterglow, the likes of which he rarely felt. He had to work so hard now to keep his promise. He gripped clumps of his father's chest fur and buried his face. It was so unexpected, these lovely sensations, akin to a second orgasm, but with a very different flavor. He lost himself in it, silently giggling to himself like a goofball as it carried on for some minutes.

	It was such a treat when his body reacted this way. His entire lower half buzzed with delightful, tickly warmth. He really could not help his laughter now. Luckily, his muzzle was deep enough in Tramp's embrace that it would likely go unheard. 

	Tramp in his wise experience knew exactly what the boy was feeling. He pointed his muzzle into Scamp's ear and whispered, "Just enjoy it."

	"I am," Scamp whispered back, gleefully.

	Morning came with a bright glow. Scamp smelled rain on the air, fresh and cool. He popped up from his resting place and stretched before it hit him; the memory of last night.

	Or was it a memory? A dream perhaps? Did that really happen? Did Dad really break a rule? Scamp looked around. His father was still asleep, as was the rest of his family. He'd been the first to rise yet again. No, it must have been a dream. As crazy horny as Dad can get, he'd never do that. Good dream, though.

	Dryness. Scamp's mouth was parched. Happily trotting over to his bowl, he dipped his tongue into the...water?

	This tastes like... Suddenly, he heard a throat clear beside him. Scamp froze, muzzle open above his bowl, and looked to his father, who gave him a hearty wink.