Page 51 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
I was more than happy to give it a fucking rest. One of the only reasons I still saw Dad regularly was for a decent meal, but ever since our tense conversation at the rec center, I’d been avoiding him. He’d called a couple of times, and when I didn’t answer, he’d texted to ask me to come over for Thanksgiving at least.
That had reminded me that regardless of what my father thought of me, he was a good man. He hosted a “college orphans” Thanksgiving with an open invite for any student who had nowhere to go. It got bigger every year. He got a lot of it catered, because we weren’t equipped to cook for fifty people, but Dad, me, and Lena always made one dish each. Mine was a delicious spicy cornbread casserole that I’d loved since childhood; Lena made pecan pie; and Dad made cranberry stuffing. Without those three dishes, it wouldn’t feel like Thanksgiving.
I couldn’t miss it.
“Cooper?” Trace prompted. “Anything?”
I blinked, realizing my mind had drifted. “Utility has something to do with…satisfaction or benefits, I think?”
Trace nodded. “You’re on the right track.”
“Satisfaction in a product goes down over time?” I guessed.
By his wince, I could tell I’d missed the mark. I groaned and dropped face-first across the foot of the bed.
“This is hopeless,” I muttered into the thick, silky comforter bunched up beneath me.
“The law of diminishing marginal utility means that the satisfaction obtained from a product will diminish as more of the product is consumed. The more you consume something, the less satisfaction it gives you.”
I turned my head enough to look at him. “In other words, the more pizza I eat, the less I’ll appreciate it?”
“Exactly.” Trace beamed, even though he’d had to explain the answer to me when I’d failed to remember it.
I sighed. “I’m sure I read the definition, but nothing sticks in my head.”
“Well, it’s only your first evening of study, Cooper. You can’t expect miracles.”
I grimaced. Was he right? Was I simply expecting my pay-off way too quickly? Maybe I’d gotten lazy. In high school, I hadn’t had to study. The subjects were predictable and easy to manage.
“I think it’s time for a reward.”
“For what? I got only a third of the questions right.”
“For working really damn hard,” Trace said. “Don’t forget you’ve had a hell of a day. You were stressed out, then I showed up, then I spanked you, and that unleashed all kinds of emotion. That’s draining. And then, after all that, you still spent the evening studying one of the driest subjects ever.”
I snorted. “No kidding.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “So get naked.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“You’ve earned it, and to be honest, brat, I can’t take another second without touching you.”
My blood heated, rushing south, and I scrambled off the bed to rip my shirt over my head. Trace chuckled as I stumbled while getting out of my pants. “So eager. I love it.”
Finally rid of my jeans and underwear, I stood before him, skin prickling under his stare. It felt like our video sessions, when Trace would put me through my paces. But it felt different too. Because this time, he beckoned me forward, onto the bed, and over his body.
He pulled me into a heated kiss, his tongue pushing in without hesitation this time, his silky beard tickling my chin. So much sensation washed over me, I was immediately breathless. The cotton of his shirt brushed against my nipples, and his jeans scratched my thighs. He was fully dressed while I was naked, but I didn’t feel vulnerable. In Daddy’s arms, I felt as if I were exactly where I belonged.
When we parted for breath, he guided me up his body, until I was straddling him with one knee on either side of his chest. I couldn’t smother the needy sound that escaped as I watched my cock near his mouth.
“It’s past time I taste you,” he said.
He tugged me forward until my cockhead grazed his lips. “I’ll set the pace. Don’t get greedy.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said eagerly. “Whatever you say.”
He smirked. “Now, I know how to turn you respectful. Just suck the brat out of you.”
