Page 49 of Slay the Gay Away, Daddy

“Me too. I mean, I guess I am. I donated blood last year and they didn’t tell me I had anything. I haven’t slept with Mal in . . .” I pause, trying to remember. “Gosh, I don’t even remember. It must’ve been five years, at least. We probably should have talked about this last time we did this. I'm sorry, baby. I let you down.”

Darren presses the head of his dick against my hole and smiles. “Wouldn't care if you had contagious gangrene. I'd catch chlamydia if you asked me to, sir.”

I scowl at him. “Well, that's just irresponsible and downright dangerous.” He spanks me on my ass, but all it does is sends a shiver down my spine. “Bad boy. That's a bad, bad boy.”

He giggles a little, and it's enough to bring me back to the moment with him. Cupping my face, he soothingly assures, “If it hurts, you need to let me know so I can stop. I won't hurt you if I can help it, but you have to let me know if I do, Daddy.”

I don’t have the heart to remind him that his little four-or-five-inch engine-that-could is more likely to tickle me than leave me screaming in agony. Surprisingly, that’s exactly what happens. The moment the head is in, I let out a loud groan that makes it sound like he’s shredding my insides. Jesus. It feels so big. He’s just a little guy, but it feels massive. It isn’t agony like I imagined, though. There’s pain, but there’s also an undertone of undeniable pleasure to it. He stops, probably thinking he’s killing me, but I quickly shake my head.

“Keep going. It’s good, I think.”

“You think?” he questions, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t know, Darren. I’ve never done this before. I can’t tell if it’s pleasure or pain, but I want to find out.”

Darren nods before continuing his movement, rolling his hips, fucking into me. Each inch feels like a mile, and when hispubes finally touch my cheeks, we stare into each other’s eyes, dumbfounded.

“I’m in,” he whispers, staring down in disbelief. When he looks back up at me, his smile is as wide as I’ve ever seen it. He looks so dang proud of himself, and I’m just as proud of him.

I press my hand against his heart. “I love you. I’m in love with you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Daddy.” His jaw trembles, but no, we won’t be doing that.

“Yeah, little guy. Daddy’s here.”

He slowly pulls out before reentering, and though it defies all logic, it feels like his shaft has doubled in girth. His four-or-five inches feel like heaven, unending pleasure that I want to feel for eternity. Topping Darren was phenomenal, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as good as this. It’s like taking his cock is what I was born to do. Like I was born to be his submissive Daddy.

“So good,” I rasp, raking my fingers through his hair. I pull him closer to me, touching our lips as the speed of his thrusts increase. Each time he touches the base, his tongue slips past my lips, then retreats alongside his cock. He’s got them timed together perfectly, providing little pops of pleasure before taking it all away. The push and pull of it all has me seeing stars, and I’m matching his thrusts, not giving a damn about the loud slaps of skin on skin echoing through the room. Our walls are paper thin, so I know Mal must be able to hear us, but I don’t care. Right now, Dare is seconds from coming. I can see it in his eyes. They’ve gone hooded, and they’re fluttering back in his head as he lets out these low, feminine whimpers that are doing things to me I can’t even describe. His cock drills over and over, the ache exquisite as he claims me with a kiss.

“I don’t think I’ll last much longer,” he whines, slamming his little cock all the way to the base before pulling out and doing it again.

“Me too,” I admit, because even though I came less than five minutes ago, I’m harder than I’ve ever been, leaking pre-cum against his stomach. He nods, crouching lower until my cock is wedged between our abs, the pressure pressing down like a vise. Each of his thrusts drag me closer and closer to the edge with him.

I know what’s on the other side of that ledge. A sudden drop into the flames of Hell.

Maybe we were born to burn. If that’s the case, we’ll burn brighter than every star in every sky. Before, the thought might have terrified me, but those days are gone. I gave the first half of my life to God. I’m giving forever to my boy.

With a final surge, his dick twitches inside me, and warmth spreads inside like milky tea. The moment it happens, I clench around him, my cock firing between our chests.

“Oh, God,” he cries. “Miles!”

I pull him to me, slamming our lips together, shoving my tongue as far into his mouth as I can get it. His cock continues coming for a solid fifteen seconds, and the entire time, he’s whining and whimpering into my mouth.

Darren falls against me, pinning me down. We lie like this, our hearts beating in time, his head resting against my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, combing my fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry I shut you out. I got scared.” He looks up at me with sleepy eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. “I’m weak, Dare. I can’t promise I’m never going to freak out on you again, but I want this. I want to build a life with you.”

His jaw trembles a bit, but my big, brave buddy pushes past his emotions and tilts his head, giving me a gentle kiss. “I want to build a life with you too.” He traces his thumb across my eyebrow. “What does a life with me look like? If your dad hadn’t forced you into following in his footsteps and you could do anything you ever wanted, what would you want to do?”

I have to stop and think about it, because I’ve never taken the time to dream. What was the point? I was always going to end up exactly where I am now. From birth, ever since my father drew a crucifix on my forehead with anointing oil as soon as I exited the womb, I was groomed into becoming this version of me. Miles Brooks: Husband, pastor, child of God. Dreaming would have meant hoping, and hope will only ever break your heart. But here, in our sacred space, with Darren’s heart thumping rapidly against my chest, I allow myself the moment.

“I want to write,” I admit. “I know it’s not a lucrative career, but it’s what I love most in the world.”

His smile widens. “Okay. Done.”

I cock an eyebrow. “What?”

“Done,” he repeats. “Even if Meadows fires me, I’ve got dirt on him. He’ll give me a stellar reference at the least. Like I said earlier, I’ve got enough put away that we won’t have to worry about rent or bills for a while.”

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