Page 26 of A Little Spilled Milk

With my body molded to his, only the water coming between us, my wet skin slapped on his slippery flesh. His grunts and my moans mingled with the pounding water.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” he yelled as my cock penetrated him. He reached back and took hold of my dick, tugging it as he did his, before letting go and allowing me to plunge into him. “It feels so good, and I want to come. Make me come, Daddy.”

I wanted to feel, to taste, to scent every part of this man I’d given my heart to.

My nostrils flared as I thrust my cock inside him, needing to give him the release he was begging for.

My cock slammed into him as he yelled my name, telling me he loved me.

Gods, I did too. “I love you, Vinnie.”

Now we fucked, hard, fast, and raw, water hitting our skin and bouncing off in all directions. Vinnie’s head was thrown forward as my cock filled him and his body convulsed. He yelled, “Daddy,” and cum splashed over the tiles.

Now I wanted my own release, I craved it as it raced toward me, and when my orgasm claimed me, I clung to Vinnie, my body vibrating.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“As I love you.”

15

VINNIE

When we decided to go on the trip together, I knew it would be fun. It was with Daddy—how could it not be? But I wasn’t expecting it to be a crossroads in our relationship, for it to be where everything changed. Where I became more than just his boy or his date.

Hearing about Mia had been important. At the time it made me want to cry and puke. The emotional turmoil of meeting her and then asking and hearing about her had been intense. I was very proud of myself for saying something despite all of that. With most people, I didn’t think I could’ve, but this was Daddy, and he made everything safe.

Past-me would have let it fester until it wedged between us, but by telling Daddy exactly how I was feeling, we were able to have a very honest conversation—one that ended with me hearing that he saw me as his future. And it really doesn’t get much better than that.

We walked up to the elevator to see an “Out of Order” sign. It was not a shock. The stupid thing had been a pain in the ass fora while now. But when you were tired, had luggage, and needed to pee, it was doubly awful.

“Great,” I grumbled.

“Don’t worry, Vinnie.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll take mine up, and then I’ll come get yours.”

“I can do it.” I didn’t want to and was grumpy, but that didn’t mean I needed Emory to do double the work.

“Let Daddy do it.” Something about the way he said it told me he wanted to do this for me, and I decided to make it up to him later, but graciously accept now.

I thanked him, leaned against the wall, and closed my eyes for a few minutes. It had been an exhausting trip—as wonderful as it was, what I really needed was a nap and cuddle and milk. I needed Daddy time, which given I’d just had a ton of it didn’t make logical sense, but what about love made sense?

A few minutes later, the front door opened, and the breeze hit me. When I opened my eyes, there was a kid standing there, holding a kitten. From first glance, he could’ve been away from his mom, but barely. I didn’t know a ton about kittens, but I knew that much from the time my cat had kittens growing up.

“Hey, is this your kitten?”

I shook my head. The kid was late elementary age, and given his backpack with attached lunchbox, was probably on his way home from school.

“Does his owner live here?”

“No, I don’t think so… maybe…” I realized quickly how little I knew most of my neighbors. “Where’d he come from?”

“He was in that box, right out there.” He pointed to the main doors.

I asked him to show me, and he walked outside. There was a copy-paper box pressed against the front of the building, and when I looked inside, the poor kitten had been there long enough to have made a mess. I looked all around the box but couldn’t find anything to indicate why they were there or which office the box had come from. Given it had been recycling day, there had probably been a ton of them at the curb, making that not much of a clue, anyway.

“He’s not mine,” I told the kid again.

“I can’t have cats. Dad’s allergic.” He looked down at the kitten.“Can you take care of him?”

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