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This calls for a nice, long shower.
For a second, I wish I had asked Dean for his phone number, if only so I could thank him once more for how much he helped me. After only a few hours under his care, I’m thriving in a way I haven’t in what feels like forever.
Should I send him a fruit basket?
I snicker as I walk to my bedroom, imagining Aspen’s face if a giant fruit arrangement arrived at The Garden. I burst into laughter as the image transforms from Aspen’s look of surprise to the poor, unsuspecting delivery driver opening the door to a kink club. The vanilla are never quite prepared for Aspen and their lavender ears.
Reaching through the shower curtain, I turn the knob to let the water warm up while I strip off my sweat- and dust-soaked clothes, dropping them in the laundry basket by the door.
Stepping over the tub ledge, I climb under the hot water. Steam billows around me as the fancy massager showerhead pulsates against my back. My muscles release their tension from all the awkward angles I bent myself into while cleaning. The relief is almost overwhelming.
Reaching for the bottle of shower gel, I squirt a heaping glob of the apple-scented soap onto my loofah. I run the poof over my arms and chest, watching the suds create streaks of foam over my skin.
Now that I’m relaxed and the looming to-do list is done, I can’t help but notice how incredible my hands feel against my skin. A warming tingle spreads through my abdomen, and my dick perks up between my legs.
A little bit of pleasure will surely take the edge off.
Dropping my loofah to the tile at my feet, I trail my soapy hands over my body. My fingertips trace the pattern Daddy would if he were here. I tease along my neck, dipping to my collarbone, then drop my fingers to run over my chest.
Goosebumps break out over my skin, my nipples pebbling into hard nubs as I score my fingernails over them, pinching them between my thumb and forefinger. The small jolt of pain shoots electricity farther south, and my hands follow in its wake.
My hand skirts the edge of my erection, barely grazing the base of my shaft. A gentle thrill flows through me as I imagine, not for the first time, what this would be like if I had a Daddy.
Daddy would never allow his boy to play with his cock without permission.
I close my eyes, giddy and a bit rebellious over the idea of being caught by Daddy. My fingers curl over my erection, and slowly, my hand glides from base to tip, circling over the mushroom head. My body heats from the contact, a warmth settling in my stomach that has nothing to do with the pelting water.
Giving in to the desire, my head runs away with the fantasy…
“What Daddy doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him,” I singsong, increasing the speed of my strokes with every pass over my cock.
My stomach flips as I picture what would happen if Daddy were here—if he were to catch his baby boy disobeying his rules in the middle of the day.
Lucky for me, Daddy is at work, and I have the next hour or so to—
I screech, my thoughts disrupted as the shower curtain is ripped open, the cool air drifting into the warm haven I’ve created. I pull my hands away from my rapidly deflating cock when I see Daddy staring at me, disapproval dripping from his expression.
So much for the faceless Daddy I’ve always dreamed of. In my brain, Daddy Dean’s dark eyes are aimed my way. Instead of letting it ruin the fantasy, Daddy Dean pulls me deeper under his spell.
“Daddy! I was just—”
“Save it, baby boy.” He tuts an admonishment. “You know better than to play with my toy without permission.”
“But, Daddy, I was—”
“Hush.” Daddy places his fingers against my lips to silence my denial. “Mouth closed, eyes on me.”
Standing beneath the shower spray, unmoving and completely enraptured, my eyes widen as Daddy takes a step back and strips off his work clothes. Piece by piece, the fabric falls to the floor, uncovering every tattooed inch of Daddy’s body for my viewing pleasure. My cock rapidly starts recovering, growing between my legs and pulsing to be closer to him.
Stark naked and more handsome than anyone has the right to be, Daddy kicks the pile to the side as if the clothing has personally offended him. Stalking forward, he climbs into the tub, pushing me farther under the spray before reaching to the side and enclosing us behind the curtain.
Silently, he looks down, raising his thick eyebrows at me. “Explain.”
His predatory gaze sends a shiver down my spine, doing absolutely nothing to assuage my growing erection. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I was just so horny and thinking of you while I was showering, and then my hands felt good under the soap…and I couldn’t stop.”
Unable to withstand disappointing Daddy, even if I intended to be a bit naughty, I drop my chin and close my eyes. Several silent seconds pass, neither of us responding to my breathless apology. I count another five heartbeats, and then my eyes fly open when Daddy’s rough hand encircles my shaft, squeezing until it’s just this side of painful.
A moan escapes when Daddy growls, “Mine. This is my toy, Tanner. Mine to hold, mine to play with, mine to pleasure.”
