Page 66 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
He laughed. “Then get on Facebook, old man!”
I pinched his ass, and he yelped, and soon we were wrestling. Cooper clambered on top of me, surprisingly strong for his lithe form, and I let him pin me down. “Behave,” he said sternly.
“That’s my line.”
He grinned, rocking against me a little. “Then make me behave.”
“Oh no,” I said, yanking him down on my chest. “I’m not twenty-two. You’re going to have to wait a few minutes. Just settle down, brat.”
Cooper shook with laughter in my arms. “So you are a mere mortal after all.”
“Still your Daddy,” I muttered.
He kissed my chin, looking affectionate. “You are.”
We dozed off for a while, and I woke to Cooper’s mouth on my cock. I groaned. “You’re insatiable.” He gave a moan of agreement as he sucked, and I shoved my fingers into his hair. “Good boy.”
I jerked his head down, forcing him to take me deep, then pulled him up, guiding him roughly, and he took everything I gave him until I spilled over his tongue. When he’d finished swallowing and gasping for air, I yanked him up and kissed him hard, tasting my cum on his tongue. I reached for his cock, to find him soft and wet.
“Came already,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed.
“Mm, you really are a perfect boy,” I said, kissing him again.
If only we could stay like this forever, safe in our little private bubble. The outside world could fuck right off. Because this right here, the world of ourownmaking, was all I’d ever wanted.
* * *
COOPER
I woke from a nap Sunday to see Trace packing a bag and jolted upright. “You’re not leaving yet?”
“No.” He smiled sadly at me. “But soon.”
I slumped back into the pillows with a sigh. I knew he’d be back in a few days, but I wasn’t ready for him to leave yet. He’d said he loved me. He’d called himself mine. My heart still felt tender and achy at the notion someone could feel that way about me, much less Trace. I felt another flash of guilt for keeping Trace from telling my father the truth.
Avoidance was my crutch, not weed. It had only been a tool to help me avoid the things in life that scared me: my apathy for school, my father’s disappointment, my mother’s desire to reconnect. But when Trace was with me, it was easier to stare down the challenges ahead. I could almost believe I could handle them. Almost believe in myself.
Maybe if I told my father the truth about us, it would be okay, as long as Trace stood by me.
“I don’t want to go either,” Trace said, climbing back into the bed and pulling me into his arms. I settled against his chest as if he were furniture built just for me.One Daddy made to order.The thought made me smile. “I’ll be back soon.”
“I know. I’m being silly.”
He kissed my hair. “No. I miss you when I’m gone.”
I was afraid to look up at him. “You should come to Thanksgiving.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“There will be a lot of people there, and my father is your friend. You shouldn’t have to avoid seeing him because of me.” I wet my lips. “If you’re reluctant because you don’t want to lie to him…”
“That’s part of it.”
I sat up to look at him. Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Then we’ll tell him.”
Trace started to shake his head. “You’re not ready.”
“Thanksgiving isn’t for three weeks. I can be ready.”
