Page 33 of First Class Feelings

There’s no arguing this fact after the day I just had. I’ve never felt more cared for or loved by someone in a romantic relationship. We aren’t even to the ‘I love you’ level, yet I can see a future with him like I haven’t been able to with others.

It’s the best feeling in the world to know he’s got my back.

When we get back to the room, I’m not as tired as I thought I’d be. It’s like I have a second wind of energy.

I bounce in place as Daddy opens the door. He turns to me, a soft smile in place. “Does someone need to use the potty?”

Our bag of goodies from the boat gets left by the door as he guides me into the living room. I sigh as I look out of the windows. I’ll never get tired of this view.

I wish we could stay here forever.

“No, Daddy,” I say with a giggle. “I no potty now.”

“Is that true? Then it’s ok if I tickle you.” Daddy wiggles his fingers at me as he rushes toward me.

With a squeal, I take off at a run. I don’t manage to get far since I don’t really want to be away from him. It’s just a game.

He pins me down on the couch, his body on top of mine as his fingers dig into my side. I wiggle and laugh, the teasing touches hitting all my funny spots.

But then Daddy shifts.

And —oh!

There’s something very hard between his legs.

“Daddy? What’s that?”

I widen my eyes as if I don’t know what his erection is. Though I’m feeling mostly Little, I have enough presence of my big side to understand.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to play to see where this might lead.

He shifts his hips forward, rubbing himself against me gently.

“This? This is Daddy’s cock, little one. It gets hard when I’m excited.”

“Excited!? I excited too. Look.” I point to my own crotch where my length has hardened.

He nods, smiling down at me. “I see that. Such a sweet boy, yet your body wants to be dirty, doesn’t it?”

I shiver at the want in his voice. Biting my lip, I nod and blink playfully. He leans down, his mouth moving to the side of my ear.

“Do you want to be Daddy’s dirty boy?”

My back arches as a pulse of needs throbs low in my belly.

“Please, Daddy. I be good for you. Good and dirty.”

He grinds into me again before lifting me up and pushing me up the couch. I’m flipped across the armrest, my lower half on the couch with my chest over the edge. There’s pressure against my cock that makes me gasp and press forward even more.

“Daddy!”

“What’s my dirty boy doing? Are you rubbing that cock against the couch? You want Daddy’s help?”

I nod rapidly as I try to rut against the furniture.

His hands move to my hips, then he eases me back and forth in a slow pace. I whine because it’s not enough. Not even close.

“More,” I grunt.

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