I crumble into his arms. “I-I don’t know how to act with my friends here and you here and me here and, and…” He pulls me tightly toward him. His body is big and strong against mine. “I don’t want them to think I’m stupid, and I’m scared I’m going to do something really dumb.” It’s true. I’m scared I’m going to say or do something that will make me look like a giant fucking idiot. Something that will alert them to the fact that I am who I am. A Daddy’s boy. “I’m scared I’ll do something, and they’ll know what I’m like and what you’re like.”
“Elliot, what you and I do together is between us. It’s no one else’s business. This is ours only. You can be the version of yourself that your friends know when you’re with them. I don’t mind. I completely understand.”
“But that’s the thing,” I whine, not even taking the time to mentally prepare for how stupid what I’m about to say is. “I don’t want them to know. But-but I also really, reallydowant them to know me. I want them to know me, and I don’t want them to know me, and I don’t know how to feel all this at the same time.”
He cradles my head to his chest, gently stroking the back of my neck. “That’s a lot, baby.”
It’s hardly even the start of it. “I-I’m also scared I’m going to talk too loudly or laugh too much or not give anyone else a turn to speak. I can be a real dick when I’m nervous. It happens a lot, and then everyone thinks I’m too much. They all do. I can feel it when it happens, but I can’t stop it. I…”
“Elliot.” He cups my face and makes me look up at him. Things slow, not all the way down, but considerably. “Do you need me to spank you?”
“I-I…” I splutter and flounder, spinning in circles inside that he’d think to make such an offer, dying from humiliation on top of everything else. Dying hard. Cringing and burning at the thought he knows me well enough to know it’s exactly what I need.
I can’t answer. The shame is too great, so I nod once instead.
He takes me by the hand and leads me into his room. It’s a grown-up ass room. There’s serious art above the bed and serious books on the bedside table. The bed is huge, serious too, obviously. A dark timber headboard with crisp white bedding with nary a stain in sight. He sits as I catch flies, mouth opening and shutting without making a sound. He undoes my towel gently, peeling it away from my body and draping it on the foot of the bed.
I let myself slither over his knees, stark naked, bright red in the face, and feel hard muscle and bone beneath me.
He runs a hand down my back and lightly circles each of my butt cheeks. His hand keeps moving as he starts to speak. Big, steady circles hypnotize me. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re not being punished. You’re here because you asked for this. Because you need it.” Just when I think I can’t die any harder, he kills me a little more. I quiver in shame and gluttonous desire. “I’m going to give you something to ground you,” he says, patting each cheek twice. “And something to remind you.” He strokes a single finger down my crack and nudges a blunt fingertip right where I open. “And then I’m going to give you something to make you feel good.”
With that, he lifts my hips slightly and peels my erection back so it’s pressing against his outer thigh instead of being crushed between us. He strokes the length of me from tip to balls and doesn’t stop until he reaches my hole. I try to hold still and take it, but my hips buck desperately and my dick twitches unchecked.
Every word he’s saying is music to my ears. It’s a song I heard once a long time ago and haven’t been able to remember ever since. A song that’s been on my mind. Playing softly. So softly I can almost hear it, almost feel it, but not quite. Not enough to name it. A soft, comforting melody. Lyrics that speak to my soul. A solid tempo he starts drumming into my rear. It’s a steady, heady beat. Predictable. One-two. One-two.
The beat of his heart and mine.
His palm and my flesh.
It sets me on fire, burning into my skin and then into my marrow. I sizzle. Crackling and hissing as he lays down the beat. He does it until I’m beyond hot, beyond embarrassed, and beyond anxious. Until all I am is a lump of floppy flesh and bendy bones. Until I’m still and immobile. Sated even though everything burns.
He reaches over me to his bedside drawer and shows me a metal plug, gleaming and new. “I bought this for you a while back. I had a feeling you’d need it at some point.”
He lubes it up and slides a slick finger into me to ease the plug’s entry, swiveling it around and pulling out almost as fast as it went in. He teases me with cold, unforgiving steel, waiting until I groan to send it all the way in. My body stretches open to accommodate it and then quickly tries to clamp shut when the thickest part is buried inside me.
“If you start feeling like it’s all too much,” he murmurs, “I want you to clench here”—he pats my ass in a kind, reassuring way—“and feel this. Feel me. Even if I’m not looking at you or talking to you the way I usually do, I want you to feel this and know that you’re still you and I’m still me.” I hear him smile and he jostles the plug, making my head fly back and a low moan slip through my lips. “And I want you to know that as soon as everyone leaves later tonight, I’m going to take this out of you, and I’m going to replace it with this.” He rocks his erection against my belly. It’s big. Hard and unyielding.
I moan again. Louder and longer.
“On your feet,” he says.
I scramble up, smiling dumbly as the room spins slowly around me. He eases himself off the bed and onto his knees in front of me.
“Daddy!” I cry. “What are you d…?”
He looks up, shooting a blue hot dart straight into my heart. “Told you I’d give you something to make you feel good, didn’t I?”
I nod unsteadily and lock my knees to keep them from buckling as he takes my dick into his mouth. There’s something so wrong and so scarily beautiful about the sight of Stuart on his knees. I can hardly stand it. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, but the second I do it, I ache to see it again.
He takes me deeply, eyes closed sweetly, mouth open wide, until I feel the softness of the back of his throat against the head of my dick. He pulls back and then takes me again, sucking softly when I’m deep, holding me there, suspended in time, until the pleasure feels angular and sharp. Like something that could cut me. Slice me open and break me. My eyes roll and my knees knock as I gurgle and hiss in the face of pleasure that’s bigger than me. Bigger than him. Bigger than this whole goddam grown-up ass room.
I come harder and faster than I’ve ever come in my life. I spray hot and thick into Stuart’s mouth, grunting and moaning as my ass frantically clamps down on the plug. Again. Again. Again, until I’m empty and gasping, clinging to Stuart’s shoulders so I don’t lose my footing.
We’re on the front porch. Stuart has one hand in his pocket and the other raised in greeting as Jessie, Luke, and Wyn pile out of the car and start making their way up the drive.
I don’t take my eyes off them, but I feel Stuart’s gaze shift from them onto me.
“You’re the perfect amount, Elliot,” he whispers.
