Page 7 of First Class Feelings

I won’t let that stop me.

“What flavor, little one?” I ask, dropping to sit beside him.

He snuggles close as he whispers, “Chocy,” against my neck. My cock goes hard at his warm breath against my skin. I’m immediately picturing other places I can feel his mouth. It takes everything I have to push them down as I reach over for the room phone.

“Front Desk, this is April. How can I help you?”

“Hi, April. This is Duval Roch in Penthouse B. I’d like to have some plain chocolate ice cream brought to my room as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir. We can absolutely arrange that. Is there anything else you need?”

I pause for a moment to think. “Do you all have warm blankets as well?”

“We do. I can send one up with the food if you’d like.”

“Yes, please. Thank you, April.”

“Anytime, sir. We’re happy to help in any way possible.”

Would it be too forward to ask her to source some condoms for me? If my boy wasn’t in my arms, I might be bold enough to ask. I don’t want to embarrass him though.

Besides, the ice cream and warm blanket combo is already confusing enough. No need to make them think I’m doing something kinkier up here than I am. I don’t care if they judge me, but my little one appears to care what others think of him.

“It will all be here soon,” I say against the crown of his head. Taking a bold chance, I kiss the spot there as well.

My boy sighs, like I’ve given him the world with the small movement. I wish I could tell him I would do just that. He deserves everything and more. And I intend to give it to him as best I can over the next week. After that, we’ll have to see what comes.

We sit in the quiet room while we wait for room service to come. I think both of us are far too comfortable to move around. At least I know that’s my reasoning. My Little might still be exhausted from being woken up on the plane.

The knock on the door startles him into sitting up. He rubs his eyes adorably, his gaze taking in the room as if it’s the first time.

“DD?” he says with a raspy voice.

“Right here, little one. That’s room service with your ice cream. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

I ease him onto the couch before taking off for the door. A young man in all black stands with a covered tray and a bag with a handle.

“Here you go, sir.”

As we make the exchange, I slip him a ten-dollar bill for his trouble. He came up quickly, and I don’t see an ounce of judgement in his expression. I appreciate that more than he knows.

Turning back to my boy, I find him chewing on the neckline of his shirt. I frown at how nervous he seems to be now that we’re apart.

“Look what I’ve got,” I say in an exaggerated happy voice. Making my way to him, I do a twirl or two as I balance the tray like I’m wobbly.

He giggles and claps when I manage to make it to the coffee table. Those emotions go into overdrive when I lift the cover to reveal the bowl of chocolate ice cream.

“Chocy! Chocy! Look, DD!”

I smile as I dip the spoon into the treat. “Yes, little one. I see. And it’s all yours.”

He makes a grabby motion for the bowl, but when I hand it over, his eyes go wide. “COLD!”

Thankfully I still had a grip on things because he immediately lets go. In his defense, the container is rather cold. I’m sure it’s that way to keep everything cool during transport.

Except now my boy is pouting because he can’t easily eat his treat.

“Can DD feed you, little one? It’s not too cold for me.”

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