Chapter 6 #2
Pushing him aside gently, I stand and walk over to my closet to get dressed.
I listen to him flop back on the bed, then hear the soft thunk of his foot coming down on the mattress.
Putting on a pair of underwear, black slacks, a black belt, and then a slightly oversized white t-shirt, I turn around to face the naked boy on my bed.
He turns onto his side, facing me with his hand holding up his head, then brushes his fingers with his other hand along the bed.
“You look very sexy, daddy,” he comments, “are you sure you don’t want me to make you cum before lunch?”
“Chase, darling,” I say, “get dressed, we’re going to lunch, and you’ll get a reward when you deserve one.”
“That’s not fair, daddy, and you’re only denying yourself the pleasure of my mouth.” He remarks, then climbs off the bed and stands with his nose pushed up. He stops, “daddy, my clothes are dirty and wrinkled.”
“I forgot,” I nod, then walk to my dresser, grabbing a pair of loose fitting sweatpants for him. “Here, we can stop off at your house before lunch and get you something to wear.”
“You can see my birds,” he shouts, “and I can pack some of my stuff.”
He quickly puts on the sweatpants that are too short for him and shows off a clear impression of his cock.
He basically skips out of the room, then downstairs, while I trail behind him, fighting a smile.
He stops at the door, grabbing his shoes but not putting them on, instead holding them.
I know it’s impractical and his feet could get cut, but a part of me is thankful I don’t have to see him in dress shoes and too short sweatpants.
That’s awful. I grab my keys while he just watches me with an adoring smile.
“Darling, you have to put on a shirt and your shoes,” I instruct.
He shakes his head, “no, I’ll look dumb, and it’s only a short walk.”
“What happened to being a good boy,” I ask.
“You didn’t give me a reward when I was a good boy,” he counters. He turns, opening the door, but before he’s out of reach, I land a hard spank to his ass. He looks over his shoulder at me with shock, “daddy, it’s true.”
“You don’t want to be a nice, good boy for your daddy,” I say, “you just want to be good to get a reward.”
“That feels like a trick,” he looks at me skeptically.
Snorting, I bypass him, and he follows me to my car, where we quickly settle in, then I drive us to his house.
Pulling up, I barely withhold my mouth from dropping open.
I didn’t know houses could be that big while being in the city.
I follow where he’s pointing and drive down a driveway, then stop in front of not a detached apartment but a normal sized house for a family.
How could the boy categorize this as an apartment? It’s bigger than my house.
“Come on, daddy,” he eagerly shouts, then rushes out of the car.
I carefully get out and look around and see in the distance what looks to be a golf driving range, then before that a large pool and hot tub.
I follow him into his house, and it’s all Chase.
The place is a chaotic mess with mismatched everything and dishes and clothes everywhere.
He leads me right to a large shelf in the living room that is packed with blown glass birds of every different colour and species.
It’s such an odd thing for the boy to collect.
“Aren’t they pretty?” He asks, then grabs one that is definitely the ugliest of them all, with every colour on it and looks more like a fish, bird, cross creature. “This is my favourite.” Of course, the boy loves that one most.
“This is a good collection,” I comment.
“Thank you,” he says with a bright smile, then walks off, so I follow him to his bedroom, which is scary. “Mrs. Williams refuses to come in here,” he giggles. I don’t know who Mrs. Williams is, but I’m not surprised that someone would refuse to come in here.
He grabs two large suitcases, puts them on his unmade bed, then starts throwing random clothes in them.
We’re definitely doing laundry when he gets back to my house.
While he packs like a slob, I grab the dishes and garbage from his room and bring them to the kitchen.
It takes five trips to get everything. I’m going to have to watch the boy in my home.
I won’t be able to cope if my house is made like this.
Continuing with taking dishes and garbage into the kitchen, I clear out his living room, a second bedroom, bathroom, and a home gym.
I run the dishwasher with the worst plates, then hand wash the others before setting multiple bags of garbage by the door.
For a boy that’s just throwing things in a suitcase randomly, he’s sure taking his sweet time.
I go to check on him to find two suitcases outside the door, then two more inside the doorway, then with him, stuffing more things into a fifth suitcase.
“How many suitcases do you have?” I ask because I have to, since I thought three was a lot.
“Seven,” he answers, “do you think it will all fit in your car or-”
I cut him off, “I thought you were packing more of a weekend bag.”
“Don’t be silly, daddy, you saw me grab the two suitcases,” he answers, “my dad said he’ll hire movers to pack my birds nicely and bring the rest of my stuff I need on Monday, oh, he’ll stop by the office Monday to get your house key.”
“What did you tell your dad?” I ask.
“I told him everything,” he answers, and for a second, my heart stops.
“Everything, everything, or just that we’re seeing each other?” I press.
“Everything,” he answers, “I told him how I went to lunch with you and Oliver, he agreed that I shouldn’t have shoved Oliver, but I told him about the argument, then he said he was glad I pushed him.
After that, I told him about how you gave me a punishment for acting bad, then how I told you I loved you.
He said he was proud of me for that, then about our first date and how you took my virginity and that we’re boyfriends. Then-”
I stop him, “Chase, it might be easier to just know what you left out.” He thinks for a second, then shakes his head, and a sudden panic flashes through me. “Did you talk to your dad about us having sex, like details?”
He nods, “he’s my best friend. He said it makes sense that I like the tas-”
“Stop,” I rush out. I can’t hear the end of that sentence if I’m ever expected to talk to his dad. “Let’s see what we can fit in my car, then the rest can be moved on Monday.”
I know I should say something about Chase’s selective hearing and moving himself into my place without a definite yes, but I don’t have the energy right now.
Also, after seeing how he keeps this place, there is no way I’m splitting half my time here while we wait for a socially appropriate time to officially move in.
Besides, I think if I said no, I would still find Chase and his stuff at my house, with his way of only hearing what he wants.