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"No, you’d better not." Bryce growls playfully, before tickling my underarms and pinning me to the mattress. "You’d get another round of spankings."
I spread my legs, then poke my wee against Bryce’s chest. "I’m too hard to pee pee, anyway."
Bryce dips down and gives me a blowjob. I welcome the warm feel of his tongue and lips on my rod. He swirls his tongue around my tip, taking it all in his mouth, which to be fair, isn’t saying much at all. He sucks up all of my inches, losing himself in my body.
"Bryce." I use his name. Not Daddy. I want to connect with him at this moment, to become one with him. He’s my lover, and I’m his special boyfriend. The boy who wants to be with him for a long, long time. "Put your hands on my body. Please."
I want more than head. More than sex. I want Bryce to touch me. To feel me, every part of me. My hard nipples, that bloom and grow erect for him. My smooth belly, that awaits his offering. My hole, my ass, my legs, my cheeks. Every part of me is mature, ready for his touch. His mighty, manly touch. I crave it with all my heart.
Bryce moves his hands up, running them across my chest. I thrust my head back, burying it in my pillow, closing my eyes as I give myself up. His mouth never stops working my dick as he tweaks my nipples, feeling the left bud, then the right. Each is hard, strained, yearning for his fingers.
I melt under his mouth, then pump my hips. I don't know why I take control of my own pleasure, because Bryce never explicitly said that I could, but I don't care. Bryce wouldn’t mind—he’d want what was best for me, because that’s what he always wants. He desires for me to be happy, for me to love every moment.
Bryce sucks my dick some more, rubbing on my body the entire time. Then, he lifts my legs up, my back on the mattress, exposing my pink hole.
Bryce removes my cock from his mouth. "There it is. BJ’s precious berry."
I strain to stay in control of my senses, but his naughty words are too beautiful. Yes, this is my berry, Daddy. Perfect and tender and ripe for you, fully bloomed and ready for everything you have to give.
I squirm on the sheets as Bryce traces his index finger down my crack, touching my pinkness. This is the first time a man’s ever touched me here, and so I hold Bob extra tight, feuding with the tingles that take over me.
My hard, pink nipples grow even more erect, and Bryce must notice. He moves his right hand up my chest, pinching my right nipple as his left finger rubs my hole.
Bryce slides his finger inside. "There you go. If it’s too much, let Daddy know."
"Not too much." I curl my toes, fighting the urge to gasp at the intrusion. Oh, Bryce’s digit is too big, so girthy. So much larger than my own middle finger that I sometimes sit on in the shower when no one’s around to see.
Bryce pushes his finger in and out of my hole. "There it is. My boy’s precious hole. I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time, sweet one. Thinking about it as I commanded my men at job sites."
"Your working men?"
"Yes. My working guys. The men who’ve helped me build my empire. Brick by brick, bar by bar. Every time I’m with them, I only think of you. Prancing around, your hardhat lolling on your head, your cheery voice stealing my attention, making my day. I think about the day you used my hard wee as a stick shift and melt into magic dust."
I thrust my legs further apart. "Put your wee in my hole. Please."
Bryce works his finger deeper into my crack. "You’re not ready yet, baby boy. You’re so tight—tight like no other man has ever been. Tight like your mother’s apple pie when she sliced into it for the first time, penetrating the flakey crust. You need to work on your looseness for me, boy. We’ll practice this next week."
Next week.
No.
Bursting into tears, I heave myself off my pillow and clutch Bryce’s chest. "I’m ready, Daddy. You must believe me. My soul, heart, and spirit cry out for you. I won’t be able to go on if you don't take me tonight. If you don't put your wee deep inside me. You have no idea how much I need this—how much I crave it."
Bryce shakes his head. "You’re simply not ready."
I grit my teeth, then spread my legs further. "There. I’m stretching it out as far as I can."
Bryce slides two fingers into my hole, surprised he can fit them in. "Well, well, well. I must say that I didn’t expect that."
"You can fit your hardness." I cry freely, so pathetic in front of Bryce. He deals with the hardest men in New York City. Remorseless bankers. Cruel competitors. The last thing he needs is the boy who loves him above all others sobbing on his chest like a baby. A pathetic little baby who can’t even control his own emotions. "I’ll make room for it. My hole will grow, it’ll expand for you, Daddy. That’s the way holes work at least ones like mine. It’s tight and new, but it’s ready for your cock. Put it in me. Make love to me. Fuck me, Daddy. I love you, and I’m ready to be your boy."
Bryce lays me down on the mattress. "Okay, boy. I’ll try my best—might only be able to fit an inch in, eh? So tight and new that you may not be able to take my juicy shaft. Ten inches is a lot for your pretty little hole to take, especially because I’m so girthy."
Bryce kisses me as the tip of his cock presses against my crack. It strokes my opening, rubbing my entrance, pink on pink.
My fingers find purchase in his hair, and I clutch it as I lay down, settling into my dump truck bed. Yes, I want this badly. I dream about it, every night that I come here and slip under my covers, I pull my underpants down and beat my dick thinking about Bryce making love to me.
"We’re in my dump truck bed, Daddy," I whisper, my lips straining against his. "In here, we can do anything."
