Page 115 of Giddy Up, Daddy

His lids drop, he bites his lower lip and nods. “The baby…” he whispers.

“I guess you’ll have to be a good boy and be quiet,” I say, though I’m already wondering if we shouldn’t move this into the guest room. If we had a baby monitor, I so would. I add it to my mental shopping list, along with the crib and a thousand other things I haven’t thought of yet.

He whimpers as I work the buttons on his jeans while nuzzling his neck. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I grumble, though I’m wearing the same amount.

“Yes, Daddy.” He’s turned from the cocky, self-assured man to the boy I love. To be clear though, I love all of his sides, but the boy in him needs me, and I like to be needed.

I slide down to the floor and pull off his boots, then tug his jeans down muscular, hairy legs. By the time I’m back on my feet, his hands are working the buttons on his button-down flannel. I help him and quickly shove it off his arms. When he’s in nothing but his boxer-briefs, I flip him over, and squeeze his ass hard through the cotton fabric.

He mewls in response.

Glancing over at the baby, I see that she’s sleeping soundly. I wonder if she’s a light sleeper or a heavy one. We’re about to find out.

Lifting my hand, with one eye on Amelia, I bring it down across his ass. She doesn’t move. I do it again, harder this time. Nate whimpers into the mattress.

“You need some of Daddy’s special attention, don’t you?”

He takes a ragged breath, but doesn’t say anything. I peel his boxers over his hips and halfway down his thighs, reaching between his legs, and up to cup his balls before squeezing gently.

His back heaves with his labored breaths. I can tell how tense he is. The weight of the world on his shoulders. From my baby boy to a father in a matter of minutes.

“Let it out,” I tell him. I smack his ass again, a few times on each side, watching the taut muscles bounce under the weight of my hand, and the skin redden under my touch.

“I can’t,” he whispers.

But he can. And he will by the time I’m through with him. I glance at Amelia again. She still hasn’t moved. A heavy sleeper. I’m thankful.

I put more force into my swats, mollified that the slap of skin against skin, hand across ass will not wake her.

Nate lays there, taking it. He’s breathing heavily as the force and cadence increase, but not showing any signs of distress, which tells me how stressed out he really is. How much he needs this. I want to use something, but I know there’s nothing that won’t be far too loud. Quieter implements go on my shopping list.

We’re fathers now, but that means it's even more important that we take care of our own needs. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

“I don’t know what to do,” Nate finally whispers. “I don’t know how we’re going to manage this. We’ve got so much on our plates already.”

For a few moments, I ignore his comments, focusing instead on spanking him, on working him up to the release I know he needs. He won’t get to tears today, that much is obvious. But that’s okay. I have more than one way to skin a cat. The only sounds in the room are Nate’s steady breathing, and the smacking of my hand across his butt cheeks.

When they are fully pink, I lean down, pressing my chest against his back, and whisper in his ear. “We’ll figure it out.” I repeat my promise from earlier. “Together.”

“Yes, Daddy.” The whisper is weak, timid, strained. He’s close to where I need him to be, so I give a few more swats across his sit spots, and reach between him and the mattress to stroke his thick, hard cock,

“Fuccck.” He groans, and pushes his hips off the bed, giving me better access. I stop, long enough to shuck my own clothes. His ass is glowing pink now, and all I can think about is burying my cock between his hot cheeks.

“Don’t move, baby.” I chuck my boxers to the floor, step out of them and lean over to open the drawer on the nightstand, grabbing a tube of lubricant.

Popping it open, I squeeze a dime-sized portion on my hand, and wrap my hand around my cock, slathering it. When I’m nice and slick, I run my finger down my length, gathering a bit of the slick liquid and rub it around the rim of his tight puckered hole. It’s ready for me.

And god, am I ready for it. “Take it, baby. Take Daddy’s cock. All of it.” I step closer, pull him to the edge of the bed, and line up the tip of my cock with his puckered hole.

“Mmmmm,” he whimpers when I slide my length between the crack of his ass, teasing him. “Daddy, I need it.”

“I know you do, babyboy, I know you do.” Lining my tip up with his entrance, I push past his barrier and revel in his sharp intake of breath.

I should go slow. But there’s a mile long to-do list and a sleeping baby to consider. And the fact that I’m already so worked up I could be seconds away from blowing my load if I’m not careful.

“Be Daddy’s good boy, and take it,” I command because I know he likes it when I get bossy and talk dirty.

I thrust inside him, pushing halfway in, then pulling nearly all the way out. My cock twitches. It’s ready. I’m ready. A glance at Nate’s face tells me he’s ready. I thrust all the way this time, and watch the way his hole stretches around my cock.

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