“Yeah, bud. Yeah, you can touch me.”
I fumbled with his zipper, my coordination shot from arousal and need. He helped me, pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself.
The first time I wrapped my hand around him, we both gasped. He was hot and hard and perfect in my palm.
“Show me,” I whispered. “Show me how you like it.”
His hand covered mine, guiding my grip and setting a rhythm. “Like this. Just like—fuck, yes, just like that.”
I watched his face as I stroked him, watched the way his jaw clenched, and his breathing went ragged. His eyes were locked on mine, dark and intense.
“Your turn,” he said, voice rough. His free hand went to my jeans, flipping open the button. “Can I?”
“Yes.” I was already nodding frantically. “Yes, please, Daddy.”
He worked my jeans open and slipped his hand inside, wrapping around me with confident strokes. The sensationmade my knees buckle. Thank goodness I was leaning against the wall or I wouldn’t have been able to keep myself upright.
“I’ve got you,” he assured me. “I’ve got you, bud.”
We found a rhythm together, hands moving in tandem. I tried to focus on making him feel good, on learning what made him moan and curse, but it was hard to concentrate when his hand was working magic on me.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and my eyes snapped to his. “That’s it. Want to see your face when you come.”
“Simon,” I gasped. “Daddy, I’m—I’m close.”
“I know, bud. I can feel it.” His hand sped up slightly, his thumb swiping over the tip. “Let go. Let me see you.”
The combination of his touch and his words pushed me over the edge. I came with a choked cry, burying my face in his shoulder as pleasure crashed through me in waves.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, working me through it. “So perfect for me.”
When I could breathe again, I realized I’d stopped moving my hand. I looked up at him apologetically.
“Sorry, I?—”
“Don’t apologize.” He kissed me softly. “But you think you can finish what you started?”
I nodded and renewed my efforts, watching his face intently. It didn’t take long—he was already close, his body tense and his breathing harsh.
“Tanner,” he warned. “I’m gonna?—”
“Do it,” I encouraged. “Want to see you, Daddy. Please.”
That did it. He came with a groan, his hand tightening on my hip hard enough to bruise as he spilled over my fingers.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us trying to catch our breath. Then Simon pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gently cleaned us both up.
“Come here,” he said, pulling me close and tucking my head under his chin. “You okay?”
“More than okay,” I said honestly. My whole body felt loose and satisfied in a way it hadn’t in longer than I could remember.
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “That wasn’t how I planned our first time to go.”
“I liked it,” I said. “It felt real. Not choreographed or perfect, just… us.”
“Yeah.” I felt him smile against my hair. “Yeah, it was us.”
We stayed wrapped up in each other until the sound of voices outside reminded us that we were in the barn, where anyone could walk in at any moment.
