Page 53 of Little Boy Toy

Zale

Kendry lay on my chest, fingertips making circles on the skin.

“I saw the moon,” he said.

“Me, too.”

He lifted his head. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“I called you Daddy.”

I laughed.

“It just slipped out.”

“Honey, I told you I was okay with it.”

“I know. But?—"

“As long as you didn’t call out ‘Albert’ or ‘Tom’.”

He put his hand over my mouth. “Take that back. I would never! I know exactly who you are.”

I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue and licked at his fingers.

He giggled, petting my mouth and chin. We lay in a golden aftermath, cuddling and dozing before getting up to clean up before sleep.

I held him in my arms all night. Usually, that was an uncomfortable position for me to sleep in, but not with Kendry. This was utter perfection.

Kendry moved into my house the next day. We had both taken the day off work. We got his essentials and would move the rest over the next week.

He danced around my house, touching everything, exclaiming about how he loved everything.

“You can make it yours as well,” I said. “Put any of your stuff wherever you want.”

“Thank you for having me.”

I took him into my arms. “Thank you for saying yes.”

I had been thinking on and off all day about Kendry calling me Daddy during our most intimate sexual moment last night. It actually spurred me on, made me feel like a king. And so loved by him that my system could barely contain it. He had thought it might make me upset. The opposite had happened. I loved that he felt free enough to say it. That with all his heart he had showed me who he was. His need was not demanding, but I responded. My body responded. My mind joined his.

Kendry was everything to me. I wanted to know more. I craved it.

I led him to the couch. “Sit with me. I want to talk to you.”

Kendry was rarely able to just sit. He climbed. On me. He was a lap boy.

When he was settled with his rump on my thigh, leaning against my chest, I put my hand under his chin and lifted it so he would look at me.

“I want to discuss something with you.”

“Sure.” His eyes were languid, full of love.

I wanted to kiss him, but I needed to concentrate.

“I want to know you, all of you. Inside and out. I want to hear what makes you happy. I don’t want to ignore any parts of you, and that includes the emotional and spiritual parts.”

---