Chapter 26
DEXTER
Carrying my boy upstairs is a lot more of a challenge than I thought it would be.
Although I’ve been going to the gym as often as I can squeeze it in for as long as I can remember, I haven’t had to lift two hundred pounds on the front of my body before.
Getting up from the couch was difficult enough, but the stairs are damn near killing me – especially with the fucking garland on the railing making it hard to get a decent grip on the wood to steady myself on the way up.
Despite the struggles, putting him to bed is the least I can do.
He went to all of this trouble today to make sure I don’t get overwhelmed by my sad memories. .. I fucking love him so much.
On the last few steps, Johnny starts to stir in my arms. I do my best to soothe him so that we don’t tumble back down the stairs, and he quiets long enough for me to get us into the hallway upstairs.
Then he starts squirming like he wants down.
Part of me wants to hold him close forever, but my legs and arms are screaming at me that I’ve pushed beyond my limits.
Dropping his legs so that we are standing face to face is the only concession I think I can give him right now.
My arms feel like gumbands and I can’t seem to hold him back as he races to the bedroom door to block it.
“Give me two minutes, Daddy,” he calls back to me before rushing inside and slamming the door on me. I’m amused at his antics. My Baby Boy always seems to wake up a bit more Little than Big lately, and it’s something I love to see. It means he’s becoming more and more comfortable with me.
I also take full advantage of his absence to try and massage my sore muscles from the overuse that I just put them through.
I thought being able to squat one eighty at the gym would be enough.
Most athletes at his height are about that weight, so I figured he would weigh less than that.
And I’ve given him a piggyback ride up the stairs with no problem. Apparently, I need to do better.
“Ready Daddy!”
The shout is muffled by the door, but the excitement in Johnny’s voice rings clear.
Whatever my boy has planned for me, I’m sure I will love it, just like I love him.
However, I am wholly unprepared for the explosion of Christmas cheer that has replaced our bedroom.
Lights, tinsel, garland – there isn’t an inch of space that isn’t decked out for the holiday.
I laugh because what the fuck else can I do at this point? It looks wonderfully ridiculous.
“Oh, Johnny,” I sigh hungrily when I finally look at the bed.
Colorful lights are woven through the metal headboard, casting just enough light on the bed to show me that my boy has taken one of my favorite holiday BDSM photos and tried to recreate it.
Tried is the operative word because string lights will never successfully bind someone’s wrists, but it does make a pretty visual.
“Do you like your present?”
Nodding my head, I drink up the sight of my boy’s naked body on the bed. Closing the distance, I remove the robe and my shirt. I should match him. Before I can take off my jeans, Johnny sits up on the bed and places his hands over mine.
“Let me?”
I move my hands away from my waist and start fiddling with the short curls on my baby’s chest. I love the fact that he didn’t shave or wax away all of his body hair like some other guys in my past have done.I don’t need my boy to look boyish.
It’s the person and the trust between us that matters.
There’s nothing wrong with having body hair or facial hair as long as it’s groomed.
Hell, I wish I could grow hair on my chest like him, but all I can manage is a short happy trail below my navel.
“That tickles, Daddy,” Johnny giggles. I don’t stop.
I just lean over and use my other hand to tip his chin up for a kiss.
I don’t miss the fact that he is trying to hide something under his leg while I’m contemplating what good deeds I did in a past life for the universe to grant me someone as precious as him.
My hand moves from his chest to his side and I tickle him for real this time.
He’s not prepared for it and curls up in a ball, rolling back and forth to escape the dreaded tickle monster.
By the time I finish torturing him, we’re both smiling like the Cheshire cat.
But my mission was successful in grabbing up what he was trying to hide – a condom.
It looks off to me, but it’s not until I move it next to the string lights to read the packaging that I understand why: peppermint flavor.
Johnny and I had the conversation a few days ago about protection, and we decided to both get tested after the holidays when things slow down for us both. Although I told him I’m not worried about using condoms for oral, I now know why he was insistent.
Holding it up for him to see that I’m on to him, I raise an eyebrow.
Just like I expected, Johnny squirms and tries to snatch the condom from my grasp.
Glancing down, I see that he’s fully ready to take part in whatever plans he has made for us tonight, and my own equipment is completely on board as well.
Johnny sits back on his heels, knees spread open in an almost perfect submission pose if it weren’t for the pout and slouching.
I sit on the edge of the bed and reach over to glide my fingers along his length, making him shiver.
While his eyes are focused up at the ceiling, I tear open the condom wrapper with my teeth.
The sound is apparently enough to bring my baby back to reality.
“Daddy, No!”
I snatch my hand back from his dick and stand. What did I do wrong? Johnny grabs the open condom from my hand while I’m frozen in shock.
“I want my candy cane for dessert, Daddy,” he whispers and works my jeans open enough to pull out my straining dick. It’s not until the condom is on and I’m engulfed in the wet heat of my boy’s mouth that my brain registers exactly what has happened.
My boy loves his candy canes.