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It didn’t matter where he planned on taking me. By that point, I was beyond three sheets to the wind. Not to mention vulnerable and willing to have possibly become the Bay Harbor Butcher’s newest victim, if Reid would’ve turned out to be the nefarious monster Carrie cautioned me about. Since so much alcohol sloshed around my stomach, at least he’d planned on feeding me one last meal.
Though incredibly dark, I could make out the lustrous snicker as he tilted his head within view. “Poor little Banana Boy,” he clicked his tongue in a rapid succession. “We’re gonna get some grease in that gut.”
Perhaps after thinking about it now, I’m capable of being histrionic even pissed drunk. I peer my head around the doorframe to catch a glimpse of Daddy still snoozing away in bed. This gives me time to sneak down the stairwell, for what might be my last Colorado morning ritual ever practiced. As expected, this tradition continues at least for one more day.
Every morning after springing from bed, Tuti has a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me on the kitchen table. Without fail, next to my java is the morning’s copy of The Daily Picket. And unless it’s raining or snowing, I take my joe and newspaper out to a quiet spot in our garden for‘silent time.’She shoots me a proud look, as my fingers grip through the mug’s handle. Kind of similar to how a mother would, when they’re facing the reality that their baby has to make a life for themselves at some point.Who actually cares to entertain the consequences of reality?
A deep breath cleanses my lungs, while I glance up into the sky. Not a single cloud today. Even though last night, it appeared that Mesa County would experience a week’s long monsoon. I tip the cup to my lips, blowing gently to cool the very first sip. Now that I’m skipping town, the local news seems almost trivial. The only thing I find myself able to do, is allowing my memory from Tuesday night to pick back up in such a silent reverie.
Wind stung each pore on my face, while Reid carried me down a path leading to a slender peninsula surrounded by dozens of luxury yachts. The water’s tides all ended in the same fashion, gently slopping up against the sides of each boat. Clunk-a-clunk! Clunk-a-clunk! Reid lowered his stare to mine, winking briefly before opening his mouth to speak.
“Welcome aboard Nani’s Haven, my boy,” he grunted mildly, ascending a small plank.
Within a moment, another grunt followed his first, as I felt him lifting my entire body weight aboard in the process. For a floating vessel, it didn’t feel like it swayed too terribly much. Most likely due to its own massive volume immersed halfway in the water. He carried me towards a long, padded bench definitely wide enough for more company than two people. Catching a glimpse of the star riddled sky seemed inevitable, as Reid laid my intoxicated body amongst his deck cushions.
Daddy sat up against the backrest with my head in his lap. He combed his fingers through the locks of my sweaty hair, waiting for his driver to return with the greasy pizza—surely to stave a heavy hangover if at all possible. In that moment, I didn’t care about the repercussions of drinking or eating liquor drenched fruit. The only thing which mattered the most, was the gentle care and love he displayed. His tacit agreement to ensure I wouldn’t suffer needlessly for another day as long as I shall live.
The night grew past us both, as we tossed our grubby napkins into the box with various uneaten crusts. Reid held another glass bottle of that twenty-dollar water to my lips, encouraging me to swallow as much as I could tolerate.
“Hydration is so important when drinking,” he advised me. “The last few times you’ve been liquored up, I couldn’t get very many fluids down the pipe.”
When I pleaded how I’d reached my limit for the time being, he fastened the lid before a gentle toss into the cushions opposite us. Not a split-second later, he unbuttoned my black silk shirt which costed over a thousand bucks—teeming with pleasure.
He moaned ravenously while undressing the rest of me from the waist down. Every square inch of my sweaty flesh could feel the brisk air graze its surface. Of course in that moment, it revved my engines with gusto to where all I could do was bite my bottom lip in anticipation. My vision blurred sporadically as I studied the dazzling sky in all its splendor. Waiting for Daddy to slip out of his matching outfit felt like the final seconds of a dog race. Will they ever catch up to the fucking rabbit?
Reid didn’t waste any more time, stroking his erect cock with an ample pool of his spit. His head pushed back with a deep moan ejecting from those strong lungs. He sidestepped around my naked body a moment later, thrashing his hardened dick against each ass cheek. My ravine practically widened after the fourth rep of his pounding cock. By that point, my eager hole granted open sesame to his nine inches of nirvana.
“Oh fuckkk,” I moaned at the instant feel of his dick plunging inside. “Damn, Daddy, you’re hard tonight.” Surely only half of that came out clear as mud.
Reid huffed, blowing a gale force wind up against my chin, as his abdomen remained parallel to mine. But his cock kept pounding farther with each motion. Meanwhile, my screams intensified. In that moment, I didn’t know whether it was the most pain I’d felt inside or not. The previous day remained a total blur.
He tightly covered my wailing with a palm. “You gotta be quieter, little boy,” he asserted. “This may be the most public sex I’ve ever had,” he grunted voraciously. “But nobody roams around down here past nightfall.”
“Mmmmm,” I cried into his hand.
Daddy Reid uncovered my gaping mouth with a glint at the corner of his eye. The moon overhead shone down at the perfect angle. Another millimeter to the left and I wouldn’t be able to see the fire in his eyes set my heart ablaze. Public sex is hotter in reality than it looks on television or film.
“Is my Banana Boy gonna stay silent while I finish?” He asked insistently.
I nodded in agreement. “Yes, Daddy,” I muttered, yet he probably couldn’t hear over his own violent breathing.
My excited cock jittered in Reid’s palm, as he squeezed it slightly with each stroke. Meanwhile, every muscle inside my lower body ached with each prod deeper and deeper than the previous. Another few minutes passed us by, when I noticed the earlier spark in his eye. It grew wider, like a star on the precipice of its lifecycle just before exploding into a black abyss. Everything within me knew he was ready to cum. And if he wasn’t, then my name isn’t Kragen fucking Darling.
Another groan ejected from my mouth through gritted teeth. I couldn’t help but relent my jaws to let the cry flow. Seconds later, ropes of my sweet release dove from the tip of my dick. Each jut of cum felt thicker and longer than the one prior, causing a brief trail of tears to meet the cusps of my eyes. I’ve never before been labeled an emotional bottom, but there’s always a first for everything.
“That’s my good boy, Kragen,” he praised me, before affording his own grunt to propel from inside him.
Daddy quickly slid his cock straight from my ass at once, vigorously stroking it as if his life depended on painting my canvas with his skilled brush. He groaned as his head pushed back again.
“I’m gonna fucking cum, boy,” he huffed. “Unnnghh ahhhhhh—”
Not a moment later, the liquid magma rushed out of his wide slit. He panted uncontrollably as each thigh appeared to spasm almost painfully. Reid’s cum sprayed all across my torso, mixing with mine. If our nectar were paint, the combination of primary colors would’ve boasted a most intense purple imaginable. Just as I finally caught my breath, he lowered his head above mine. The heat of each puff collided with a wisp of cool wind, dancing across my sweat covered face.
My Island Daddy dipped his fingers into our sweet cocktail, shooting me a look of zeal. He raised his hand up to my birthmark, smoothing the state of Michigan with cum. As if delivering my definitive anointment, marking his boy an official Fairchild.
“By the way, Kragen William Darling,” he grunts, painting his fingers down my naked torso with another fervent grin. “I love you, too.”
I snap back to reality by the sound of our back screen door slamming against its frame. Followed by footsteps approaching from behind. Momma and Mimi knows when my ass is planted in this antiquated, rusted turquoise metal chair—I’m in the zone for‘silent time.’So there’s only one other person who could possibly be treading the small patches of desiccated grass to me in the garden.
