Page 24 of The Trailer Park Twink
“Yeah?”
He closes his eyes, maybe to make the words easier to say. “You’re sure you didn’t mind me being in there with you?”
“I loved you being there with me.”
His mouth quirks upward. “I think I liked it too. You could do it again sometime. If you wanted, I mean. You don’t have to.”
“Yeah?”
He opens his bloodshot eyes, his face still and serious. “Yeah.” His hand journeys lower, resting against my bulge. The feeling of him pressed against me in a place I’ve dreamt he’d touch me for years feels like an explosion. Without thinking, I roll my hips forward, seeking contact. The action startles him, but he doesn’t pull away. Just lets it rest right there, softly caressing my cloth-covered cock.
“You’re clearly drunk,” I say, wanting to give him an out if he needs it. I pray he remembers this in the morning. I don’t think I could handle it if we woke up and the night has been wiped from his memory thanks to the drink.
“Do you reallywanna see me suck myself?”
I swallow, because just the thought is enough to get me half hard. “I wanna film it. Wanna put it on my OnlyFans.”
His eyes flash this strange expression I’ve never seen before. “You want to show me off to your fans?”
I bite my lip and nod. “Want them to know you’re mine.” He closes his eyes and smiles, and I know he wants this. I can see it written all over his face. He’s smiling wider than I’ve ever seen him, eyes closed, just soaking in the moment. “I love you, Dallas.” I lean closer, pressing our lips together, cupping his cheek. “Leave her. We don’t need Mom, Daddy. We never have. Just me and you. I can be enough, I promise. I’ll make you so happy.”
A snore escapes him, but he’s still smiling like he’s just been given the world. I rest my head on the pillow, our noses touching as I cuddle even closer, falling asleep in Daddy’s arms.
It’s been a day and a half since we got the tattoos, and my ass is still sore.
When we got home the next morning, Shelly was gone, and we ain’t seen her since. Nothing new, honestly. She’s probably out sourcing meth. Or dead in a ditch. At this point it could be either. While I don’t wish her dead, I can’t deny how peaceful it is when it’s just Aussie and me. I mean, I know she ain’t dead, because she’s been uploading right-wing propaganda posts on Facebook the entire time she’s been gone, but still. Shouldn’t I care more about her safety? I did once. I used to get so goddamn terrified every time she’d go on a bender, leaving Aussie and me alone for weeks at a time. I would drive around the bad part of town where the tweakers tend to congregate, asking around about her. It wasn’t my smartest move, and I got mugged four times before I finally gave up. One time I got pistol whipped. She didn’t even care. She was angrier that I handed over my wallet than worried over the fact I could have died.
Aussie cared, though. God. He cared for me in a way no one else ever had. He brought me soup and an icepack. I wasn’t sure why he brought me soup, but my momma always told me, you never look a gift horse in the mouth. So, I sat there, letting him feed me.
I need her to come home, because we need to talk. We’re supposed to leave for the cabin in the morning, and I still have to find a way of talking her into letting Aussie come. I’m not leaving him behind. I don’t care anymore. My boy needs me. He fucking begged me to bring him. He sobbed into his pillow the night I told him he couldn’t. After he came in my Fleshlight, and I headed back to bed, Aussie stayed on the couch. I had to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, and when I cracked the bedroom door open and heard him sobbing in the living room. I went to sleep with a full bladder because I didn’t want to make him hurt even more than he already was.
I’m glad she ain’t home, because I don’t know how I’m going to explain the tattoo. Fuck, she’s going to be pissed, but the worst part is, I don’t give a fuck. I’d do it again, because we’re branded now. Him and me. Me and him. We’ve each got the other on our asses, with a big star and an initial. A giant A on my ass, leaving no room for interpretation.
She’ll know it’s for him the second she sees it.
There’s a knock on my door, and since I ain’t got out of bed yet, I just roll on my side and pretend to be asleep. I know Aussie snuck in earlier, waking me in the process. Just like now, I pretended to feign sleep. At first, I wasn’t sure what he was doing, then he opened the wall safe, just like I said he could. My son was horny earlier, and he needed to shoot his load into our shared Fleshlight. Now, he’s bringing it back, and my cock is aching at the thought. I’ve been feeling a whole lot of feelings I don’t know how to compartmentalize, so I’ve been pushing them down, out of sight and out of mind.
The lock on the safe clicks, and the bed dips as Aussie crawls in behind me. “Daddy?”
Fuck. If I roll over, he’s going to see the tent beneath the blanket. Why does that make my cock stand even taller, like it’s fucking begging to be seen?
I roll over, blinking a few times, trying to look like I’m just waking up. Aussie’s eyes immediately spot the tent, and a smile forms on his face.
“Good morning, baby,” I say, pulling his focus back to my face. He’s all dressed up, which makes my heart sink, because it’s Sunday, and we always spend Sundays together. “Where are you going?”
He stares at my lips, licking his own, but then his eyes flicker up to look at me. “I have practice with the boys. We’ve got that show at the all-queer prison unit next month.” He sighs. “Wish I could just quit the stupid group. Then I could stay here with you all day. Cuddle up and watch television or . . .”
“Or what?” I ask, but something in his eyes tells me I don’t want to know the answer.
“I . . . I told my fans about your party trick.”
My eyes bulge. How the fuck does he know about my party trick? Did someone mention it at Bubba’s? I mean, they must have. More importantly, why the hell is he telling his fans about it?
“You did what?” I ask, unable to mask my shock.
“You told me I could,” he argues. “At Bubba’s, you said you were going to let me see.”
I swallow. “I did not.”
