Page 34 of Daddy Marc's Gem

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m taking out the plug, but your body is going to want to hold onto it. Don’t resist, let it go.”

As Marc gently twisted and turned the toy, he was mesmerized by how Foster was responding to the experience. Soft cries and whimpers escaped his lips, his body trembling with each careful tug. When the widest part stretched his rim, Foster arched his back beautifully.

“That’s it.” Marc held in a groan as the plug finally slipped free. “Look at you, so open and ready for my cock.”

Foster’s hole clenched and relaxed as if beckoning him. Marc couldn't resist dipping his thumb inside, feeling the slick heat that he needed wrapped around his throbbing cock. Foster pushed back against the intrusion, gripping him.

“Daddy, please. I need you inside me.”

Marc positioned himself behind Foster, the head of his cock nudging against the slick, stretched entrance. He clasped Foster’s hip with one hand, using the other to guide himself into that inviting heat.

“Take a deep breath for me, baby.” His voice was thick and throaty, his own need on th verge of consuming him. “I'm bigger than that plug.”

Foster inhaled shakily, and as he exhaled, Marc pushed forward, breaching the tight ring of muscle. The sensation was exquisite—hot, silky pressure enveloping the sensitive head of his cock.

Despite the plug's preparation, Foster was still deliciously tight around him. “So perfect for me.”

Foster’s body yielded beautifully, accepting the intrusion with a shuddering sigh that transitioned into a low, keening moan as Marc sank deeper.

"Oh God,” Foster clawed at the sheets. “It’s so much...”

Marc cocooned Foster with his body, his chest to Foster’s back. He whispered into his ear, “Too much?”

“Not enough, need more,” Foster begged.

Marc clamped his mouth on the crook of Foster’s neck right as he slammed home. His body remained caged around Foster’s as he rammed into him over and over. He laced their fingers together above Foster’s head, holding onto him with a tight grip.

Time seemed to collapse as Marc lost himself in the rhythm of their fucking. Every thrust drew a whimper or cry from Foster, whose body accepted him so perfectly it was as if they'd been made for each other. Foster’s tight passage gripping his cock, the way he begged, the scent of their mingled sweat—it all combined into an intoxicating symphony of sensation.

“That's it, take my cock.” Marc growled against Foster’s ear, his hips snapping forward. “Take it, take it,take it,” he grunted. “You’re mine now. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Y-you, Daddy,” Foster stammered, his voice breaking on a harsh thrust. “Only you.”

Foster’s words made him come undone, and he shoved a hand beneath Foster, grabbing his cock. He’d barely startedtugging when Foster let out a sharp cry, his release pushing Marc over the precipice, tumbling down with him.

Marc collapsed against Foster, their bodies slick with sweat, breaths coming in ragged gasps. For several moments, they remained joined, Marc’s weight pressing Foster into the mattress, neither willing to break the connection quite yet. Foster’s passage still fluttered around him with aftershocks, each tiny contraction sending renewed waves of pleasure to Marc’s sensitized cock.

“How’s my sweet baby?” Marc nuzzled Foster’s neck, placing a gentle kiss on the damp skin.

“Mmm…” Foster hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Fantastic. I’ve clearly been missing out.”

Marc placed a kiss on his shoulder this time. “Excellent. That’s what I was going for., to show you how good it can be.”

In truth, he was relieved by Foster’s answer. Even though he’d seemed to be enthusiastically enjoying everything as it was happening, the protective part of Marc always needed extra reassurance.

Carefully, Marc withdrew, both of them wincing slightly. He disposed of the condom in the small wastebasket beside the bed, then returned to gather Foster into his arms. Foster came willingly, tucking his head beneath Marc's chin, their legs tangling together. If he spent a thousand years searching for the perfect boy, the one meant for him, he’d never find anyone better than Foster.

“Daddy?” Foster lifted his head. “Were you serious about, you know, wearing the plug during the day?”

Marc smirked. “Deadly.”

Foster grinned. “Good.”

Oh yes. Foster was perfect.

Chapter Eleven

Foster had pretty much given up on pretending the plug wasn’t shifting around inside his body. Not that he truly believed such a thing was possible, but he lived with a lot of hope. He retrieved a finer grain of sandpaper from the built-in workshop drawer in the garage. He mused that an overabundance of hope had sometimes erased common sense in how he dealt with life.

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