Chapter 10 RICK
The whipped cream melted fast on impact, a small swirl of it against Caspian’s nipple.
He giggled, and then moaned as I embraced the sweetness of the cream with the tender touch of my tongue around his hard nipple.
I did it to the second one and thought he might’ve tried bucking me off—but he didn’t have the force to overpower me.
I traced the whipped cream all the way down to his navel where he was writhing and giggling.
I knew he wouldn’t be able to do the same to me, I had too much body hair.
It would’ve been a mess in his mouth—unlike my mouth against his soft, shaved skin.
I was able to get clean licks and I was able to tease his body in new ways.
Having him here in my bed was strange. It was the first time I’d ever had another guy in my bed—in fact, anyone. We were christening it, and I was going to make sure we didn’t make too much of a mess, but by the way Caspian ate, I couldn’t be too sure he wouldn’t.
Taking my shirt off for him, I lay where he’d been and he had the chance to straddle me now.
He took the can of whipped cream and shook it up, squirted it directly into his mouth, and moaned.
“So nice,” he said. He was half naked with his onesie falling down around his waistline.
He didn’t immediately go for my chest with the cream.
He pushed his fingers through the hair and toyed with my nipples.
He laid his head and left a little residue from the cream on his mouth.
So, he was going to make a mess. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I hiked my knees up, forcing his face to mine, so I could kiss his mouth and lick the sticky residue from the space between his lower lip and chin.
It was magic. He was magic. He pulled me right out of the funk that had been plaguing me.
The feeling went through me like a thrill of electricity, and I did my best not to wiggle beneath him, giving him plenty of space and room to get back down onto my body with his delicious, delicate tongue and the cold can of whipped cream.
He was adamant about making eye contact the entire time, and he was practically resting on my hard cock, which was tenting in my boxers.
“Fuck.” My moans were soft, my head dipping back but never enough to stop looking at him.
Against his rubbing, I had to contain myself. I could explode at any second with the way he teased me, and the way he shook that can of cream—I was just as much shaken and on edge.
He pulled my boxers down, and discovered we’d eaten the entire thing of cream off each other’s bodies, with only a sputtering of it left for my cock—becoming sticky and melted the moment it touched me. My cock was much warmer than the rest of me. “We should’ve brought a second can,” he giggled.
“For next time,” I told him. There was definitely going to be a next time, and I would make sure my fridge was stocked with all his favorites—like cream in phallic cans. Maybe the bigger, thicker ones would do better next time. “Keep going.”
His tongue teased my tip, going from beneath and coaxing out the precum. It was leaking out of me, and only a clench of my ass cheeks helped me keep any amount of control over it. He had my cock throbbing, veins visibly pulsating with his touch, however it came, I needed more of it.
The only thing that matched the sweetness of the cream I’d licked from Caspian’s body was the sweetness he applied to me, each touch with his fingertips or tongue sending tingles through me.
I would’ve been making a mess in my boxers if he hadn’t removed them to my ankles and lapped at every little droplet coming right out of me.
I’d never experienced someone using their tongue in such a way.
“I need to fuck you,” I immediately said, sitting upright. “I need to fuck you.”
Cas giggled and nodded obediently, on his knees between my legs. “Yes, Daddy. How do you want me?” He wrapped his arms around himself, pretending to be coy.
“Whichever way means I get to stare into those gorgeous eyes.”
He whimpered, his hands dropping down the sides of his soft body until he was clutching his cock and balls.
“Don’t start playing until I’m feeling you from the inside.”
We were quick to do it, we both knew how this went: him on his back, grabbing teddies in his arms to keep himself occupied; me, with a condom, overly lubed like I was about to start a Slip ’n’ Slide into Cas’s tight, puckered hole.
Fucking him, fucking his ass, it felt like my cock was being massaged, and in a way it was. With each clenching throb of his cock, he was trying to get me to fill him up like I was the can of whipped cream—but all of it was going to be caught by the condom.
He knew we were christening the bed, he knew this was the first time anyone had fucked on my mattress, and I whispered in his ear as I pressed my body to his, squeezing the tiny teddy between our chest, “I’m glad you’re the first.” Followed by kisses, and a very wet hairy abdomen as he came, and almost instantly, my body hair wiped it away.
Clinging to me, he moaned in my ear. “Come in me.” His wet lips grabbed at my earlobe, his teeth gentle on my skin. “Fill me up, Daddy.”
I wished, I wished, so desperately I wished this was the time to fill him with my cream.
And just the thought of it had my entire body tense around him and fill the condom up with warmth.
There must’ve been more cum in me than usual—the silky liquid warmth travelled up my shaft, dripping down my balls.
I pulled out immediately. “I—” I gasped as he looked at me with fear.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah, yeah, I just—didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” I said. “With getting anything inside you.”
He smiled as the condom was now collecting all the cum in the end. He watched it as I pulled it off and tied the end. My cock was still coated. “I know you don’t have anything,” he whispered.
“I know, but we haven’t spoken about all the safe practice stuff,” I said, wiping my hand on my thigh before stroking his skin. “It was a knee-jerk reaction.”
We laughed about it for a moment. It wasn’t like he was going to become pregnant from me.
“I’ll get tested,” he said. “I don’t have anything.”
“You have one thing,” I said.
His smile dropped with concern. “Wha—”
“The cuteness bug.”
Snort-laughing, he squeezed his knees in around me. “Silly.”
I disposed of the condom in the bathroom trashcan. Glancing at the tub and shower, I remembered buying bathroom products for him as well. “You wanna shower?” I called out to him.
His voice was gentle. “Oh, I’ll just—you have any wet wipes?”
I came out of the en-suite bathroom, the orange light behind me casting strange shadows into the purple-lit room.
I looked at Cas, his knees up on the bed, hiding himself it seemed.
“I have big fluffy towels,” I told him. “Or do you have like a routine with bathing? I’m sorry, again, I feel like I should’ve asked this stuff.
” I knew there were protocols, and I was new to it all, so I was rushing—and clearly failing.
I sucked hard on my teeth. “I bought strawberry bubble bath, or whatever it is they were selling at the mart, and those water play toys. If—oh god.” It was his silence breaking me more than anything.
“No, no, no,” he let out in a huff. “It’s none of that, and I—”
I sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke his knee. “Whatever it is, just let me know and I’ll make sure I’ve got it for you the next time you’re here,” I said. “You—” I paused, trying not to be that clinging person.
Cas was muttering under his breath, and I tried so desperately to hear. Then his voice broke and he coughed. “What if you don’t like the way I look after the shower?” The words still soft.
“What do you mean, baby?”
“I have—” He locked eyes with me, his brows tensing hard, knotting together fiercely.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work through it. I promise you, there’s nothing you can say that will make me feel differently toward you,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, because it sounds stupid.” He rammed his face into his arms. “And I knew this was going to happen, but I just—I feel ugly.”
Pushing further onto the bed, I was almost wrapped around him. “Shush that pretty little face up right now,” I said. “Tell me what it is.”
“I have these—scars on my face, and—” He burst out into tears.
I clung to his body, hugging him tight, assuring him that whatever scars or markings he had wouldn’t stop me from wanting to be there for him. To play with him.
Caspian had acne scaring on his cheeks, they were permanent icepick scars. He wore the glitter, the blush, whatever he could to hide it, and I hadn’t noticed. He told me they were his biggest insecurity, and the sudden idea I would see them had made him panic.
All he needed was some reassurance, plenty of affirming words and promises of future play dates.
We had a soapy bathtime. The bath itself was built for one—but with the way Caspian could sit himself between my legs, we had enough room. I think he was also more comfortable washing while looking away from me.
After all the fun, we were cleaned up and were ready for a little more dessert—that wasn’t coming off either of our bodies.
I’d bought fruit cups and pudding cups. If it came in a cup and had little character designs on them, I’d grabbed a pack.
It really told me I needed to learn more about him as a little, and that’s how we spent the rest of the night
I kissed his cleaned cheek as I tucked him in at the side, and the other side was where he discovered he could cling to me. His legs had claimed one of mine. His arm had half wrapped around my chest, and his other arm was holding a teddy bear.
In the quiet and darker purple of the night light, I couldn’t quite sleep.
“Do you use a pacifier?” I asked.
“No,” he said.
“Diaper?”
“No,” he giggled. “That’s for younger ages.”
“Trying to figure out what else I should ask.”
“I’m probably basic,” he said into a yawn. “A vanilla little.”
All I knew was how perfect he was for me—and for the first time in so many years, I slept with someone at my side, and I was pretty sure I slept with a smile on my face.
True inner happiness and warmth was something I thought would happen when I retired or received a commendation from the town—but no, it came from finding a soul that matched mine in many ways.
* * *
We spent the next couple of days and nights together, although some nights he came over a little later, telling me how he had scheduled play dates with his friends.
He’d slowly left a couple of things here and there—I wondered if he dropped those tiny teddies wherever he went.
Two of them were under the pillows, I’d discovered them while changing the sheets.
The buzzer went. It was 8:00 p.m. and he was here. I buzzed him in over the intercom, after hearing him giggle and seeing him put on some cute poses for me in the camera.
“It’s getting cold out there,” he said with a shudder.
He was dressed in a onesie, with his jacket over it, and one of these funky thick hats with deer antlers on them.
He pulled a bag from his shoulder as I reached around and tried to help him out of his jacket—it was an uncoordinated mess where his jacket got stuck in the bag itself.
We laughed it off.
“I brought cupcakes, and some dough, because I wanted to.
He brought cupcakes and more dough over for us to make cheesy breadsticks. I’d done the work of preparing a tomato soup since it was one of his safe foods, and little friendly, especially with the plastic bowl and straw attachment.
The longer we spent together, the less blush he was wearing to hide his scars.
I’d also noticed my walls had dissolved around everyone.
I was no longer that poor kid who arrived here with nothing but a beat-up car.
I was the head of a fire house, and I had an entire community of folks backing me—gay, straight, whatever it was, they didn’t care at all.
In fact, I kinda wished the fire house would’ve thrown a bit more fanfare about the whole thing.
“You’re gonna have to start wearing thermals beneath your onesies,” I told him as he shuddered and groaned.
“I rode my bike,” he said with a cute pout.
“No, I would’ve picked you up,” I said, the back of my hand against his cheek, trying to feel how cold he was. “Go get changed. I want you in something warmer.”
“Naw, but this one is cute.”
“Do as Daddy says, or you only get one bedtime story,” I said. It was one of the agreed upon punishments for minor things. A full punishment was no dessert, and sometimes no teddies on the bed.
He smiled at me. “Okay, Daddy. Which one should I wear?”
“The one with the fluff inside,” I told him. I knew it got everywhere, but it was the most heat retentive one he had here—and there was a small collection, so he had choice.
“Love you,” he let out.
It was the first time.
We both paused, staring at each other.
“Love you too,” I immediately said. It came right from my soul.