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Smack.
Mattie’s eyes bulge. "Daddy!" he moans into my hand.
I stroke his cock faster. "Hush, Mattie—don't say a word. If you let Daddy give you a big, fat orgasm, he’ll buy you not a mockingbird, but abrand-new stuffy."
Mattie’s hips jolt even faster. His nuts slap, slap, slap against my wrist, kicking up a windstorm.
I groan as I bite his neck. "Look at those knockers go.Thwack—threatening violence against my poor, defenseless palm. Such cruel orbs. Daddy’s palm is old—it can’t defend itself against their brutality. Your force is greater than Joshua when he fought the Battle of Jericho. You’ll make my resistance come tumbling down."
Sweat beads on Mattie’s right temple—and I lick it, running my tongue up to his hairline, hot pants escaping me, knowing I’m a monster for doing it, for licking him in such a public place, smack next to his perfect eyes, but not able to stop myself even if I fucking wanted to.
Mattie’s cock thrums. Expands. His pink crown swells.
I squeeze his base. "Release on Daddy’s hand.Own your power."
This sends my sunflower over the edge.
One, two, three—oh Christ, he busts out ten shots of hot white cum.
He quivers, shakes, gasps into my palm, his eyes rolling to the whites.
I lick his left ear while his orgasm shakes him—swirling it around his lobe, before scissoring it inside.
He cries out to his maker. "Oh, Christ!"
"Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain," I growl, pumping his still-hard shaft with my fingers that are dripping in cum, using it as lube. "Italy is still a Catholic country."
That’s when I get a freaky idea—as if I need any more of those.
Picking up acornetto,I unzip myself, tug my dick out, and bring it to my shaft.
I wrap Mattie’s fingers around my dick and the pastry. "Grind this into my cock, boy."
Mattie does as I command.
I groan, thrusting my head back, surrendering to the sensations. "So sweet. Exactly what your hole will feel like."
"Come, Daddy!"
Cum bubbles out of my tip and spurts into the pastry. "That’s right,cornetto.Mop that shit up."
Mattie’s eyes sparkle with delight. He rams the breakfast treat between his lips, then chews greedily.
"Better than pistachio cream," Mattie gasps, his limbs twitching as his cock hardens again.
I pinch his tip to heighten his pleasure. "This is Daddy’s cream."
When Mattie squirts, I tug his jaw toward me and slam my lips on his. I kiss him hard. Fierce. Passionately.
I pour my heart and soul into it, refusing to stop for anyone.
With my tongue, I seek to show him that I’d make an excellent Daddy—he doesn’t need to test me.
With my lips, I prove that I’m his.
Mattie’s eyes are dreamy when he pulls back. "You’re an excellent kisser."
"So are you, sunflower." I boop his nose. "So are you."
