“Christmas present. Anything you want. Perhaps something we can play with together.”
He trembles, turns, and stares into my eyes. “Are you serious, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
He widens his eyes. “Anything?”
I smile and nod.
He hugs me tight and whispers, “Thank you, Daddy. You’re the best.” Then he turns his back on me and gazes around the room.
I’m reasonably sure he’s going to combust from excitement. I lean against the wall, watching as he goes around the room, pulling sex toys off the shelves to get a closer look, before putting them back carefully, exactly where they were. Every so often, he glances at me, grinning, his eyes sparkling. I’m glad he’s excited and happy.
Eventually, he returns to me and hands me a box.
I hum approvingly. “Room for Two.”
It’s our beginner double penetration toy. A slim, six-inch silicone dildo that attaches to a cock via two stretchy cock rings.
He blushes fiercely, the red glow temporarily masking his beautiful freckles. “I’ve always wanted to play with something bigger but never dared to. But if you were in control…” He dips his gaze and bites his lower lip.
I tilt his face up and kiss him. “I’ll take care of you, boy.”
He grins. “I know you will, Daddy.”
I’m semi-hard just thinking about wearing the dildo, and sliding it and my cock into his welcoming arse together.
“Did you have plans for Christmas dinner?” I ask.
“Nothing special. I enjoy cooking, but I’m not going to cook a turkey for one.”
“Then we should go shopping together.”
He purses his lips. “Wouldn’t you rather skip all the Christmas stuff?”
“Yes, but I also want to make you happy. I might not be a fan of Christmas, but you are.”
“You don’t have to make a fuss because of me.”
“I want to, boy. We’ll go shopping first. Then to yours and collect some of your spare decorations, before going to mine to decorate together.”
His eyes light up. “Really? Are you sure, Daddy?”
“I’m sure.”
Perhaps Rowan can teach me how to enjoy Christmas. I’m willing to try and embrace the festivities for him.
“Should we take the tube?” Rowan asks.
“No. We’ll borrow the Rolls-Royce.”
He gives me a doubtful look.
“I’m the boss, remember? I’ll take full responsibility if Nigel has a problem with it.” Not that Nigel is here to complain, and, honestly, he owes me one after dumping the Christmas rush on me when I was supposed to be on leave.
I briefly consider taking the Artura instead, but the boot space is non-existent, which won’t be much use. The Rolls-Royce, it is.
Finding a turkey on Christmas Eve is more challenging than I thought. We try three different supermarkets, and two independent butchers, before giving up and buying a piece of beef in onion gravy for two, roasted in the foil container it’s sold in. We buy potatoes, vegetables, and Yorkshire Puddings to gowith it. We manage to find a box of Christmas crackers, and Rowan insists on getting a small Christmas Pudding and some ice cream for dessert.
