Page 45 of Matteo's Mettle

“You like it when I fuck you slowly, sweetheart?”

A needy whimper.

“You feel…oh,”I gasp, “sofuckinggood, baby.”

I push in deeper, practically melding myself to his back, as though I’m trying to become one with him. He’s panting, his cock hard in my grasp, and now I barely move, just teasing him with tiny, incremental shifts of my hips against the perfect globes of his ass. “That’s it,” I practically croon as he tips his head back onto my shoulder, matching my minuscule moments, drawing out our mutual pleasure, “you’re my good boy.” I groan as I slowly push forward again, his tight heat driving me closer to the edge. “My perfect boy.”

“Oh, God…” Matt hisses as I tighten my hold on his leaking cock, twisting on every torturously slow upstroke.

Despite the languid nature of our love making, my heart is beating rapidly and I can feel my balls drawing up, can feel my body giving in to the exquisite pleasure of being wrapped in his tight heat. “I want you to come for me, Matt,” I tell him, engaging my best authoritative tone, the one I know he loves. “I want to feel you spurt over my hand. I want to feel your pretty little hole clenching around my cock. I want-”

He smothers a shout, letting go and complying with my request. I groan out my own release, spilling inside him, thrusting and grinding as I ride out every last possible moment.

I pull out slowly, kissing whatever parts of his face and neck and shoulder I can reach, then gaze down to watch as my cum dribbles out with my final movements.

It’s insanely hot to watch. As hot as it was that very first night we spent together. Maybe even hotter, because this time we have the intensity of our emotions behind it. We have our own history, despite it only being nine months instead of a decade.

“Stay here, sweetheart,” I whisper into his ear when I catch his eyelids drooping. “I’ll clean us up.”

I extricate myself from the bed and, while he’s still dopey and malleable, get him to move so I can pull the soiled comforter out from under him, and the blanket beneath it to cover him up with once he’s clean. Then I duck into the bathroom and nab a washcloth, warming it with hot water and wringing it out lightly before returning to find Matt has fallen asleep.

I clean him up gently, not wanting to wake him, then give myself a cursory wipe before I climb back in bed behind him. I curl up at his back, the two of us still naked, mirroring our earlier position. Pulling the blanket over us, I press one last kiss to his bare shoulder and snuggle in for sleep.

Tomorrow, we will discuss tonight’s events properly. I’ll repeat how proud I am of him for standing up for himself and getting his well-earned closure in a healthy, mature way. I’ll also reiterate how touched I am that he defended me. That he chose me. That he said he’llalwayschoose me.

The night I met him, I never could have imagined that he’d turn my world around the way that he has. I’d never imagined that being a Daddy was on the cards for me, let alone to a man nineteen years my senior.

I couldn’t have anticipated that going home with him would lead to anything beyond a night of fun. Perhaps even a week or two at best. I certainly wouldn’t have thought it would introduce me to a supportive social network of like minded people, or that I would be comfortable enough to be myself, open about my most secret (at the time) kinks.

But here we are: a Daddy who loves lingerie and a big, buff boy, in love and ridiculously happy.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

The End