Page 7 of The Trailer Park Twink
I nod, still in shock that he just caught me jacking off. “Yeah. Go ahead.” I want to move, but I can’t. It feels physically impossible. I lie back against the toilet, trying to catch my breath. “Aren’t you going to . . .” He darts his eyes toward the door.
I know that’s what he’s expecting, but I was here first. Plus, I kind of hope this will at least grant me a quick peek at his ass when he steps into the shower again. So, I swallow down my nerves and force my head to shake left, then right. “I kind of wanted to finish what I was doing. When you’re done. I can wait, I just really need to nut.” I dip my eyes down to my erection, hidden by my sheer shirt, and flex it for emphasis. “It’s quieter here. Less chance of being overheard.” Okay, well that’s a lie, considering my bedroom is right next door, even further from their room.
“That’s . . .” His chest rises and falls heavily, and the longer he stares at my dickprint, the heavier his breaths become. “That’s really considerate of you.” He licks his lips. “I’m proud of you for being so thoughtful.”
I force an awkward smile and nod. “That’s what I do.” I flex my cock again. “Thank you for not making this weird. I love you, Daddy.”
He blinks, breaking the hold my cock has on his eyes, and lifts his gaze to meet mine, looking punch-drunk on the sight of me. “I love you too, baby.”
“Go on. Take your shower.”
His cheeks darken as he hooks his thumbs into his underwear, and we both stare at his midsection. Fuck. His bulge is massive. No wonder Mom’s always crying when he fucks her. “Do you mind closing your eyes?”
Fuck that. I want to see it all. Every inch of him. Every pubic hair. The parts he’s kept hidden all this time. I stare down at my own cock, leaking through the fabric of my shirt as it twitches. He must notice too, because when I look up, he’s breathing heavily.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Sorry.” Closing my eyes, I allow him the same privacy I would want if it were me in this situation. Hell, it basically was me, less than a minute ago.
The longer he showers, the harder my cock strains against my shirt. I’m tempted to say “to hell with it” and resume my masturbatory excursion, but I resist, because Daddy didn’t come here for that. He just needs to wash the vomit off his dick. That’s it. That’s all.
He only takes a few minutes in the shower before shutting it off. Grabbing his towel off the shower rod, he doesn’t waste time with drying off, just ties it around his waist and flings the curtain open, his eyes locked on my midsection. Locked on my crotch like he’s expecting me to be stroking it. He’s breathing just as heavily as before, and once he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the outline of my dick, he clears his throat and steps out of the shower, making his way to the sink. To my surprise, he doesn’t leave, he parks himself in front of the mirror and reaches down, grabbing his toothbrush.
His eyes dart to the corner like he’s seeking me out. No. Scratch that. Like he’s seeking my cock out, because I’m prettysure he’s looking down as he slathers cinnamon toothpaste on the brush. I wait patiently as he brushes his teeth, my cock still standing at attention, refusing to bow out gracefully. Yet again, my assumption that he’ll simply leave once he’s finished proves incorrect, because he doesn’t. He just rinses the toothbrush and stuffs it into the hole at the top of the holder, then bends down and reaches into the bottom drawer, pulling out a pair of tweezers.
What the fuck is he doing?
I watch as he uses the hand towel I keep in front of the sink to wipe away a bit of the fog his shower created on the mirror. He leans in and blindly plucks at his non-existent unibrow. There’s not a single hair between his eyebrows, but he’s acting like he’s grown a goddamn bush overnight.
Fuck. I really need to come, and the longer he stays, the more I leak, and a dark patch spreads through the fabric like wildfire. The front of my shirt is basically a puddle, and I catch him looking down at it from the corner of his eyes again.
Is he waiting for me to continue? Is that why he’s still here—because he can’t voice what his body is aching for?
Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and wrap my hand around my shaft through the fabric of my shirt. I can’t exactly lift it up and whip my cock out. I don’t think he’s ready for that yet. Hopefully soon.
“Fuck,” I softly moan as I stroke myself, losing myself in the moment. Knowing he’s here, knowing he’s watching, feels like a sexual awakening in the making. I picture him between my legs, taking me into his mouth, and the mental image coupled with his physical presence has me making soft, whimpering, needy little noises.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, sounding dazed.
“Daddy,” I whine, and then I curse myself, because it rips him out of the moment. His eyes bulge, and he jerks his head up, looking me square in the eyes, horrified.
“Sorry,” he says, sounding panicked. “Fuck. I forgot you needed to finish.” It’s a goddamn lie, and we both know it. “I’ll give you some space.”
No! I don’t want him to go. I don’t need space, I just need him.
“Dallas, I—”
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “It’s all good, buddy. Don’t be embarrassed, I just—I’m going to head to bed. You need to get some rest too. I want you to go to school tomorrow. Don’t skip class.”
I shake my head, horrified. No. Fuck no, he’s not going to bed. “You said you would play with me,” I remind him. His eyes dart down to my cock still straining against my shirt, More pre-cum seeps through the fabric, making his eyes widen even more.
“Play with you?” he whispers, but I think he’s talking to himself. Actually, I think he thinks I’m talking about my cock. I mean, yeah, I want that, but we’re not there yet.
“Video games. You promised. You said once you were done with her, you’d make time for me.” My cock deflates when my voice cracks around the words, because he’s taking back what he gave willingly less than an hour ago.
“I promised,” he agrees, but his voice is barely there, and he seems torn. “Okay. Yeah. We can play. Did you need to finish first? I can give you a second.”
I shake my head, because even though I know I’m going to have blue balls like a motherfucker, I’ll have more time with him this way, and I don’t want to lose a single second. Standing up from the seat, I turn to the side, my shirt barely covering my cock and ass. I glance down at my half-hard cock and sigh.
“I’d rather hang out with you.” As I chew my bottom lip, a smile creeps into the corners of my mouth, because a plan is forming, and I want to watch it unfold. “I’m probably going to have blue balls though. Might need you to rub my tummy to make it better.”
