24. Not Ready #2
He groans under his breath, his shaft throbbing in my hand when I squeeze it harder.
I can’t believe he suggested we rest just because I came.
He always has my comfort in mind and not his.
I want him to come, too, though. Want to feel his thick cock pulse in my ass and his warm cum fill my insides.
Then I want to sleep with it inside and nuzzle into his warm chest.
He’s so gentle. Takes such good care of me. The best daddy.
This is exactly what I wanted when I went on that hookup app, but I didn’t dare hope for it. This has been my dream for so long; I still can’t believe he wants me back.
He reaches for the lube by my bedside table and pumps some into his hand. Then he rubs his slick fingers along my crease, and I hike a leg up over his hip to give him better access.
He kisses me when he pushes the first finger inside.
I moan into his mouth, rolling my body against his, my cock stirring against his thigh.
I can take my own finger comfortably by now, but his fingers are almost twice as thick as my own, and the stretch of even one of them is so intense.
I love it, though. I love knowing I’ll get to take his cock if I’m a good, patient boy and let him prepare my hole.
By the time he pushes a second finger inside, my face is buried in the crook of his neck, and I’m breathing hard. While he’s fingering me, I hold his cock in my hand, giving it a few pumps now and again. He’s so hard. He’s being so patient with me.
“Relax, baby boy,” he murmurs, gently pumping his fingers in and out of me, the lube squelching obscenely in the room. I feel my rim expand and contract, gripping his fingers and sucking them in.
“Oh,” I gasp.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Feels… good.” As always, it takes a while for my body to accept the sensation, but once it does, it feels amazing. Every time his fingers slide deeper and brush against that perfect spot inside me, I moan and wiggle my hips.
His chest rumbles with a pleased noise. “Daddy will have to buy you a dildo so you can fill your needy hole on your own.”
I shake my head. “Want Daddy to fill it. Only Daddy.”
He inhales a shaky breath, his cock rigid as steel against my palm. “You’re always craving Daddy, aren’t you, sweet boy? So needy for Daddy’s fingers and Daddy’s cock.”
I squirm, my dick leaking a pulse of precum against his stomach. “Yes… yes… Want Daddy’s cock.”
“You still need one more finger.”
“Do it, Daddy. Put the third one inside.”
He tries multiple times, but my hole rejects his third finger again and again, the first ring of muscle refusing to give way.
Finally, he flips me onto my back, a determined look on his face.
I pull my legs to my chest as he dribbles more lube over his fingers and tries again.
Moments later, the stretch gets so much more intense.
“Shiit, oh fuck,” I gasp.
Daddy smooths a hand over my trembling side. “What a good boy, taking three of Daddy’s fingers. So perfect and patient, waiting for Daddy’s cock.”
I melt at the praise, my body relaxing and letting him in. He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of me, gaze focused between my legs, his dick standing straight up and red at the tip. He says I’ve been good at waiting, but he’s been hard and waiting so much longer than me.
I reach out for him. “Do it now, Daddy. Fuck me, please.”
His brows knit as he pumps lube into his free hand. When his fingers slip out, I pull him in with my legs and trap him there, as if he’d change his mind about fucking me.
He doesn’t. Positioning himself, he slides the thick head of his cock along the wetness of my crease and pushes inside.
My head flies back onto the pillow as my toes curl at the intense pleasure of his cock pushing into me in one long thrust. My mind spins with the knowledge that Daddy’s cock is in my ass once more.
After all the waiting, it feels like such a gift every time he gives it to me, and the intense stretch makes it feel like the first time all over again.
I wriggle my hips, and my exhale comes out as a wordless moan.
Daddy grips my chin and makes me look at him. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Are you feeling good?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “So good. Love Daddy’s cock.”
Relief flashes in his eyes as he starts moving, gripping my hips to tilt me just right. And fuck, it feels so good when he sinks deeper. It burned a little when he first entered me, but now it feels like heaven.
With my hands behind my knees, I hold my legs up and apart. “Do you like my hole, Daddy?”
He grunts, face twisting with pleasure. “Yes… Love your sweet little hole.” Another long thrust, and his eyes roll back. “Daddy won’t last much longer.”
I give a needy whine. “Fill my hole, please. Want Daddy’s cum.”
“Oh, fuck, Oliver…” His hips stutter, and a rush goes through me as I realize he’s coming. He never usually comes this fast, and it thrills me that my hole makes him feel so good that he can’t hold back.
He collapses on top of me, breathing heavily, his warm and sweaty bulk pinning me to the bed while he rocks into me in a few languid thrusts, prolonging his orgasm.
Daddy always makes me feel good, so I love that he can feel that way as well, even if I didn’t exactly do anything.
My body gave him pleasure, though, and that’s enough to make my insides go all warm and fuzzy.
When he pulls out, I feel all sticky between my legs. I gasp when he slides two fingers down my crease, rubbing them over my hole.
“Should’ve had one of the toys for this,” he murmurs against my lips. “If Daddy comes first, you’d still get your needy hole filled.” He shifts his hand to my straining cock, and I gasp and grab onto his arm.
“Wanna come. So close.”
He settles between my legs and licks up the mess of cum and lube around my hole, all while jerking my dick with steady strokes.
He’s gentle with his tongue now, and I do feel sore down there.
Even with three fingers stretching me out, his cock is so big that I always feel a bit sore after he’s fucked me.
He soothes my aches with long laps of his tongue, eating the cum that trickles out of me. Like that, it doesn’t take long for me to reach my peak, my back arching as I shoot all over my stomach.
“Mm.” Daddy licks his hand, at the cum there, and after he’s wiped us down with some tissues, he lies next to me, his body warm and sweaty and safe. “Ready to sleep now, sweet boy?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, nuzzling into his chest while he strokes my back in soothing circles, lulling me into sleep.
I wake up fiery hot with Logan’s warm body pressed tight against mine. Despite the tiny bed, we’ve made it work all night somehow, and I’ve slept like a baby.
Logan’s still breathing heavily in sleep. I take his massive hand in mine and kiss his knuckles one by one. His rough skin brushes my lips, and his manly scent of sweat and cologne fills my nostrils.
Unable to help myself, I lean in to kiss his lips, and when he still doesn’t stir awake, I kiss his cheeks, his beard, his warm neck. I inhale deeply, unable to get enough of his scent, his warmth, or the safety of knowing he’s here with me. Daddy. I love you.
I kiss him once more on the lips, and finally, his lashes flutter as he opens his eyes, disoriented at first. I can tell the exact moment his eyes fill with recognition, and when they do, they fill with a tender fondness as well.
“Morning.”
“Morning.” Wanting to be even closer, I climb on top of him and straddle his hips, lying flat on his stomach and nuzzling into his neck.
He grunts at the sudden weight of me but doesn’t otherwise complain, his hand settling on the small of my back and the fingers of his other one winding into my hair as he wakes up fully.
I could stay like this forever. A thousand warm, lazy mornings of waking up next to Daddy and waiting patiently until he’s awake enough to take care of my needs.
I burrow my nose into his neck, sighing happily.
Words hang on the tip of my tongue—words like, “I love this,” and, “You’re so warm. ” Words like, “I love you.”
My heart beats faster, my face heating up at the thought of saying those words and how he’d respond.
Would he say, “I love you too”? And would he mean it in the same way I mean it? Romantic love, not just familial love from a father figure to his son. Would the words scare him? Trigger another bout of guilt? I can’t be sure. Not yet. And I’m not sure what I’d need to become sure.
“What’s wrong?” He puts a hand on my neck, gently tilting my head up to meet his gaze. What he sees in my expression makes him frown, and I shake my head, mouth tightening.
The sound of my phone ringing cuts through the tense silence. I scramble to find it and read the name on the screen. At first, I think nothing of it, so I answer, but when I look down at the man lying under me and the implications of what’s happening, my stomach twists uncomfortably.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. Sorry I haven’t called; I’ve been busy with work.”