We rocked together, sweat and my dick the only thing between us, kissing and professing all our dirty plans for each other.
“I want you back in my chastity. Your orgasms belong to me,” George professed.
“Yes, Daddy. I haven’t come since I saw you,” I panted, wondering if I could get a hand between us to help myself along.
George grabbed both of my hands and pinned them over my head, “I’ll be the one changing that. I want to feel you come on my dick before I spill inside of you.”
He started moving faster, tagging my p-spot on every thrust, and it wasn’t long before my pent-up-for-weeks dick was exploding between us. The hot spurts seemed to be pulsing in time to my ass tightening around him. George’s thrust stuttered as he roared above me, his hot cum filling me up.
Oversensitive form my own orgasm, his continued thrusting had me begging, “Please, too much, I can’t–”
“You can and you will,” George grunted, rolling his hips lazily against me. “Daddy decides when you’re done,ragazzo.”
Something calmed inside of me, and I realized it was the headspace I had loved with George. A place where I didn’t have to make any decisions. Daddy would know how much I could take. He slowed his pace when I relaxed under him, letting aftershocks roll through me with each final thrust until he collapsed on top of me.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I kissed his nose where it rested beside me on the pillow. We were together, and it truly felt like we’d made love. “I love you.”
George blinked his eyes open and kissed me back on the cheek, “I love you. And when I regain my strength, I’m taking you home and we’re doing this again.”
“Why wait?” I wiggled where I felt him still hard inside of me. My ass was pleasantly sore, and I couldn’t get enough.
“Because we’re going to pack you up so I can have you in my bed again,” George kneeled up, letting his dick fall loose before shoving two fingers in my sloppy hole. I winced and he just smirked down at me, “Where I can plug you to ensure I’m always inside of you.”
“I like the sound of that,” I smiled back, letting him shove his seed back inside of me. “You do have a big bed. Was it lonely without me?”
Greorge frowned and I worried I pushed too far. “I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t sleep there without you. Couldn’t sleep much at all.”
“Oh, Daddy,” I almost sobbed at the desolation in his voice. Ignoring how sitting up dislodged his fingers and made a mess under me, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I couldn’t sleep much without you, either.”
“Do we have to?” George asked, going on when I tilted my head in confusion, “We could never sleep apart again, if you wanted.”
Grinning, I pushed him back and climbed on top to hold his face in my hands, “You promise? No take-backs, or whatever American children say?”
“Move in with me and never leave my side,ragazzo?Te amo, amorino mio.”
“Well, when you say it so sweetly…” I trailed off, and George pulled me down to stake claim on every inch of my mouth before we eventually came together again.
Daddy owned all of me, mind, body, and soul. And I had given every part of myself over to him willingly.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
GEORGE
Three Months Later
Maybe it was being olderand wiser, or not having the urgency of running a criminal enterprise, but I often had to stop and marvel at how happy I was.
Marrying Angelique when I was twenty-nine, I’d felt so old already. I had been in charge only a couple years, and romance was the last thing on my mind. She’d snuck up on me, loving me in bits and pieces until I hated the hours we spent apart. I got four years with her, from courtship to giving birth, and I hadn’t been truly happy since.
My children brought me joy, once I was past the oh-my-god-I-have-to-raise-them-alone phase. I was in awe of their ability to take in knowledge like sponges, growing into full-fledged humans in the blink of an eye. Their wins became my wins, and I saved all my smiles for them.
At the beginning of summer, I thought I had lost that sense of daily happiness. The twins were off to college, and I wouldn’t see them as often. My parents had long since passed away, and I had few real friends. Josefina and Santo were more like aunt and uncle to me–caring, and there if I needed anything, but they didn’t need me.
With no one to focus my attention on, I was rudderless. Then came my boy.
Much like my late wife, his love snuck up on me. Basil went from exploratory hook-up to would-be assassin. I held him captive and took out my sexual frustrations on him. Somewhere in there, the frustrations turned into fantasies, resentment to attachment. Now, I couldn't imagine being without him.
Life with Basil by my side was more than I could have hoped for.
