Page 15

BJ

I grabbed the pet store bag from the seat beside me and ran up to Daddy’s doorstep, knocking only once before he opened it.

“How did I know my boy would be here early?” he asked, pulling me in for a hug, kissing my cheek as his arms tightened around me.

“Because you said we were having my favorite dinner,” I replied.

He gave me one final squeeze and then stepped back, allowing me into the house.

“I come bearing gifts,” I said, handing him the bag with Carrot’s present. “According to the lady, these are the world’s best bunny treats.”

He reached inside the bag and pulled them out. “They actually are,” he chuckled when he saw the label, World’s Best Bunny Treats . “Be sure to give him some so he knows they are from you.”

He was 100 percent Daddy’s bunny. I could give her the world, but at the end of the day, it was all about Glenn. I understood where he was coming from. I felt the same. He insisted he adored me, but I knew better.

“Now come,” he said, dragging me through the house, straight out to the backyard, where the grill was already smoking.

“You started cooking without me?”

“Nah, just warming up the grill. But everything’s ready to go.”

I had told him once—just in passing—that one of my favorite dinners ever was from a restaurant where I used to live that did everything on the grill, even the corn on the cob.

Just a random factoid, but he remembered it.

And now he was making it for me. It was so on-brand for him. I loved it—and Daddy.

“Tell me what I can do to help.”

“I don’t know.” He watched as I shook my head. “Fine. I really need someone to sit over there looking hot.”

I rolled my eyes. When I was little, I let Daddy do everything. Heck, I wanted him to. But tonight was a big night, and at times like these, we were equal and I wanted to do my share.

“You could bring out the dishes for when we eat,” he offered.

“That’s better, Daddy.” I rewarded him with a kiss. Fine, I rewarded myself, too. But regardless, kissing happened.

I set the table as he put the food on the grill.

He flipped the steaks for the first time and gave me an approximate eating time.

I remembered him telling me how the perfect steak was flipped exactly one time on the grill.

Which meant he really didn’t want me cooking the steaks, because I was the king of the flipper…

one side then the other then the other. I don’t even know where I got that method.

I supposed it worked. The meat got cooked.

But I’d never had anyone request my grilling, so there was that to consider.

I loved times like this, where it was just the two of us hanging out, having a nice meal. We weren’t going to stay here long, though. Tonight was munch night. And while my first experience with a local munch hadn’t been ideal, Glenn’s friend Bridger was really big into going and had invited us.

I had a feeling this time it wouldn’t be as bad—because I was going to know some people there. I wasn’t going to meet strangers who potentially liked the same things I did. I was going to hang out with people I knew who happened to like the same things I did.

I was kind of looking forward to it.

“This corn is amazing.”

I was halfway through my first piece and already wishing I’d asked him to make only corn for me—because there was no way the steak would be as good as this.

Although that proved to be a false assessment when I cut into my steak and took the first bite.

“I swear, you’re good at everything, Daddy.”

“Hardly. But I try to be good at everything—for you.”

On some people, that might’ve looked like sweet talk for the sake of sweet talk—flattery with a goal. But I don’t think there was any of that going on in his head. That was just how he felt. So he said it.

We cleaned up together. Such a domestic thing, but I kind of loved it.

“Are you smiling at something in particular?” he asked, rubbing his thumb across my cheekbone.

“I was just thinking how happy I am.”

“I’m happy, too.” He kissed me.

The kiss was intended to be a peck. Or at least that was my impression. But I didn’t let it stay just a peck. I wanted more. I wanted everything.

I kissed him a second time, this time slow and deep.

“Daddy,” I murmured, brushing my lips across his jaw, “can I have dessert before we go?”

“I didn’t make any dessert,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll get you a muffin or a cookie at the coffee shop.”

I reached over and cupped him through his jeans, smiling up at him. “I didn’t mean that kind of dessert.”

He groaned—low, warm, and need filled. “My sweet boy…”

I dropped to my knees right there in the kitchen, not wanting to wait for an answer.

I nuzzled him as I undid his belt and buttons.

Normally, I loved his button flies. They were hot as the sun, but today, they were thwarting what I wanted most. But soon enough, I had them open and pulled his jeans down just far enough to expose his underwear-covered cock.

He was already getting hard. I kissed the head through his boxer briefs, slow and teasing, then tugged them down to free him.

I didn’t rush. The munch could wait. It wasn’t an everyone arrived at the same time kind of thing , anyway.

I wrapped one hand around the base then leaned in and kissed the tip.

I learned early on that he loved the simple gesture, and that’s what this was all about—giving Daddy what he loved.

He lived his life to do that for me and it turned me on to give the same thing back.

At first, it was just a gentle press of lips, a promise.

But then his hand slid into my hair, and all bets were off.

He didn’t guide me. He never pushed like that. He just held on.

I flattened my tongue against the underside, licking a long stripe from base to tip, making mmm sounds, looking up at him the entire time.

When a groan escaped his lips, I took him into my mouth slowly.

My lips sealed around him, and I started to suck, lightly at first then deeper, finding a rhythm that had him holding on harder, and swallowing as he came closer and closer to the back of my throat with each trip.

He murmured my name, called me his sweet boy and his naughty boy and his sexy boy. I’d take all of those. As long as I was his boy, I didn’t care what came first.

“Fuck, BJ…you’re so good at…” From anyone else, saying my name while complimenting my oral skills would probably have irked me. I’d had enough teasing about my name as a teen. But from Daddy? I loved it.

I hummed around him and took him deeper still. I wouldn’t be able to take him all the way in—he was too big for that, but I always gave it my all. My hands gripped his hips to steady myself as I let him slide in as far as I could. He let out a broken sound and swore under his breath.

I loved doing this. Loved the way he unraveled for me. Loved knowing I could make him feel this good…me. His sweet boy, the one who had felt insecure for far too long.

It didn’t take long. He was already so close, and I didn’t let up—not once. His grip in my hair tightened, and he gasped my name again, thighs trembling.

“Gonna come,” he warned…or was it a promise.

I didn’t stop. I wanted it. Every bit of it.

He came with my name on his lips, his cum shooting to the back of my throat. I swallowed it greedily, licking him clean, and kissed his hip before looking up at him, waiting for my praise.

He blinked down at me, completely undone.

“You are trouble,” he said, voice rough.

“I’m your trouble,” I said sweetly, standing up and kissing him slow.

“Only mine.”

We were late to the munch, but I didn’t care. Watching my daddy come undone by me was better than any social time with our friends.

I did have fun once we got there, though: talking to some of the littles, meeting a few new daddies, along with an array of other people.

I didn’t know what about them made a munch their idea of a good time, and it wasn’t the place to ask.

There were some beautiful collars, many loving couples, and single people too.

It was a really cool mix and far larger than I expected it to be. We basically took over the entire shop.

Daddy had been right to suggest I come. This was so much better than the first time I’d ventured to one.

Next time, I was going to have to bring Derek. That was all there was to it.