Page 18 of Daddy's Little Camping Trip
“I like it when you do that,” I said softly. “When you praise me.”
“A good boy deserves praises,” he said. “What else do you like?”
“I like getting a few pats on my head…when you tell me…”
I was just laying it all out there.
He raised his hand, rested it behind my head, and stroked slowly. “Like this, sweet boy?”
I leaned into his touch. “Yes. Like that.”
We sat there, chatting about different things we liked and didn’t like—both about the daddy/boy dynamic but also about our daily lives. Everything from food to work yucks to TV shows.
And, finally, I couldn’t think of anything else.
Except his lips pressed against mine.
I did exactly what he’d praised me for numerous times.
I set my now-empty tea glass on the coffee table, reached up, and brushed my hand across Daddy’s cheek.
“I would love a kiss.”
“And where would you like that kiss, my boy?”
I wanted to shout “everywhere,” but instead, I played it much cooler than I felt.
“Maybe you could start with my lips.”
And he leaned in, brushing his lips across mine, and I melted into him—wanting to savor every second…
And wanting it to never end.
Chapter Fourteen
Gilbraith
A first kiss is a magical thing, and I’d kissed a few men in my time. More than a few, if I were to be honest, and each one had its own pleasant memory. Some led to more, some ended with the evening in question at the door, but none had held a bigger place in my fantasy life than the one I had hoped to share with Quill.
From the moment I met him at Chained, I’d hoped to spend more time together both little and big. Some daddies kept their adult romance separate from daddy/little interactions to the point where they did not want them to be with the same person, but I did not feel that way. To me, both relationships were so loving and absorbing, how could there be enough of me to split into two of them?
The deck this evening offered a romantic setting with its comfortable chairs, double lounger, and the moon above lighting up Quill’s animated smiling face. Talking had turned to kissing had led to where we were now, with our shirts off and lips devouring all the skin revealed so far. At first, I worried. Did he like a bear? But then my silly overthinking self reminded me that we’d spent the afternoon at the lake, some of that time shirtless. This adorable little, now big, knew what he would be seeing, and he’d had plenty of time to reject me if that had been his desire.
Judging from his lapping tongue circling my nipple in its nest of hair, he was fine with it. More than fine. My cock strained against my zipper, hard as steel and seeking freedom.
“Would you like to go inside?” I asked, stroking his hair. “Or slow down?”
“No.” He reached for the button on my slacks and flipped it open.
“Neither?” Because it was confusing. No go and no stop?
“No, let’s stay out here and not slow down.” He flung his arms around my waist, his face tilted up toward me. “I don’t want to move from this spot.”
“Outside?” My voice held an un-daddy like squeak I cleared my throat to hide. “I wouldn’t want anyone to stumble by and embarrass you. It wouldn’t necessarily be someone from the club.”
“Everyone at the campground except the staff who’ve all gone home is from the club. And the owners…well, they are our people. I spoke with them.”
Chained was a private club for all sorts of kinks and choices, and on the main floor, sex not only happened but was expected in many cases. No shock value, although some enjoyed watching as their kink and others “sharing” their own pleasure with an audience.
