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“I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll be good now, I promise. It just feels so good. I've never had anyone do that to me before.”
Why do I crave for him to call me Daddy so much and why does it feel so freeing when he wants to be good for me? I think my brother's right, I am such a goner. Ignacio has me wanting things I've never given a single thought to before.
I thrust back inside him, swiveling my tongue between his enclosing walls.
“Daddy,” he says again, and my heart grows bigger.
I rub the insides of his thighs, diving deeper and lapping at him like a starving man. His noises turn animalistic and he squeezes around me. I stop when his trembling increases. It's what happens when he's about to come. I've paid attention the last two times, not meaning to when I first made him come.
It's hard not to be so in tune with everything involving him, almost as if I was meant to be in order to know how to satisfy his needs.
He whimpers, chasing my mouth. “Why did you—”
I lightly brush my lips over his hole before pressing a brief kiss to the swollen skin.
“It's not time yet, Iggy. Tell me where to go next.”
He releases a harsh breath, his body relaxing in my arms as I lower his legs to the ground.
“The kitchen table.”
My hackles rise. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I want to think of us when I see that table. Not them or anything else.”
I nod and lift him in my arms. His head rests on my shoulder while I carry him to the kitchen. I rip off the gray table cloth, help him to his feet, and rush to get my jacket.
“Is that necessary?”
“Yes. The table will be too cold and who knows what's touched it last.” I walk back toward him and cover the hard surface. The flashing candles call to me and I grab them from the living room to move them closer.
“All ready now. Lie down for me, baby—” I pat the table. “—on your back.”
His cheeks flush and his eyes light up at the sentiment. He props himself on the table and slowly lies back, stretching his arms out above him. I position myself between his legs and he tightens them around me, locking me in place. My fingers brush over his stomach, tracing his happy trail to his groin. “So beautiful,” I say, touching him some more.
“Thank you, Daddy.” Ignacio revels in the compliment, the same way he has with the previous ones, and I bask in his pleased sounds.
“You're welcome, baby.”
He bucks his hips and I click my tongue. “Don't move, remember.” The commands always come so easily to me. I’m so used to making them with other people but not in this way. What moves between us is precious and empowering.
I rub over his leaky slit, teasing it and his cock head with my finger. His breathing increases again and he grips the table. I wrap my hand around the base of his length and stroke him slowly, using my other hand to slightly squeeze his balls.
I continue to make him come apart beneath me, his sweet sounds echoing in the kitchen. They are louder than the noise in my head, taking over every part of me. I sit on the chair, leaning forward, and wrap my lips around his tip, sucking him into my mouth, wanting his moans to be so loud I'm drowning in them.
I sink all the way down to his base, swirling my tongue and rubbing my nose in the soft brown curls of his pubic area.
“Oh, Daddy,” he screams. “I can't…I'm gonna—”
I pull off of him and he points upstairs. I carry him to the first room we reach, waiting for him to nod before laying him on the bed.
“Here?”
“Si.” It's dark and I can't see him. I pull away to find more candles and he drags me forward. “Don't leave me.”
“It's too dark and we can't even see each other.”
“Then we'll have to use other ways to remind each other we're here.”
