A Daddy for Alexi by Joe Satoria

19. ALEXI

Warren made me feel warm and special. He made everything fuzzy inside, from the way he handed me juice cartons, to the way he let me defeat his character on the console.

Furiously hammering my thumb onto the console pad, trying to attack Warren’s player. I was quickly declared the winner. It was a combo attack.

Warren clicked his tongue, chuckling. “What’s that now? Ten out of ten wins?”

All while Sugar laid in the comfort of my lap, and the comfort of my onesie. My brows sinking in my face, wide eyes looking at him. “Can we play the farm game now?”

“You can play any game you want,” he said, “do you want me to play as well?”

“It’s only one player,” I said. “I have it on my handheld one at mine.”

“Well, we can go get it,” he said, his hand behind my head, rubbing at my neck with a thumb. “I told you, whatever you want, you can have it.”

“Chocolate cake?”

He smiled at my question. The dimple in his cheek. “I can put on my shoes and buy you one.”

“Homemade?”

“I can bake,” he said, “you want me in an apron? I can put an apron on. Only an apron on.”

I could feel my cheeks blushing, looking over his body, distracted by the question. He was still in his nightgown. We hadn’t yet been through the shower stage of his morning plan.

“I really like having you here, baby,” he said, his hand a little firmer on my head, tickling me with his warm touch.

I liked being here; I liked to have him around me, especially when he touched me on the back of my neck, and when he kissed me. I liked that he would do anything. But I didn’t want to be a burden.

“Ok,” I said.

“Ok?”

“I will move in with you.” I stroked at the back of the kitten. He was soft, and he purred lightly at the touch. “But only if you want me to.”

He chuckled, tugging at my head. “Of course, of course. I asked you to move in with me. I was being serious. Deadly serious.”

“Ok.” I let out a shallow breath. I couldn’t control myself. I was panicking to think about it. This was a big move, and I felt crazy doing it. “But I don’t want to be a burden.”

“And—and you don’t have to work if you don’t want,” he said. “You can stay here, take care of Sugar, and let me take care of you.”

I shook my head. It was the last thing I wanted. Well, taking care of Sugar and being the best pet dad was high on the list of things I wanted to do, but being a burden was last.

“You can pay me, how about that?”

“Pay you?”

“In hugs and kisses,” he chuckled, pulling my head to his lips. He kissed me. “I want one million hugs and kisses from the cutest boy.” He kissed my forehead again. “That’s you,” he whispered.

“That’s impossible,” I said, feeling my voice crack into a higher pitch. I cupped a hand over my mouth. “But—” I jumped from the sofa with Sugar in my arms and placed him in his bedding. “I can make a start now!”

I leapt onto Warren’s lap, straddling with a knee at either side of him. I immediately smushed my face against his, kissing him.

My hand on his cheeks, against the rough stubble. I continued to kiss him, his tongue in my mouth. The taste of coffee on his tongue.

He pulled me at the waist, clenching me still, holding me down on his lap. Pinned in place, he squeezed at me on the hips. “You can also take care of this,” he said.

I felt the lump against the underside of the onesie. “I can take care of that.”

Down on my knees, between his legs. He parted the robe to reveal his throbbing erection. It was bouncing up and down, bowing its pink head at me.

“It’s not a cake,” he said, “but you can lick the icing off.” His hand at the back of my head, once more guiding me to his cock. His foreskin pulled back with the glossy end. That was the icing, that was the sweetness.

He was always gentle, with every tug and pull. He was sweet, and the taste was equally pleasant. His cock at the back of my throat. I went up and down.

“Come here, baby.” He stroked the back of the onesie hood. “Take this off.”

Standing, he tugged at the zipper. He pulled it all the way down to see my cock strained against the pink fabric jock. “So, how many is that?” I asked. “I think that’s already one million hugs, kisses, and—” My line of sight dipped to his cock.

“Want me to fill you up like a little cream puff?” he asked. “Make you my little dessert boy?”

“Please, daddy.”

He turned me around, stripping the onesie down my legs. His warm hands cupping at my cheeks. He parted them. The tickle of his facial hair against the bottom of my back. He sniffed hard and deep.

“You like that?” he asked, spreading a hand up my back. “I like it when you wear that tight little jock.”

I hummed, breath throttling in the back of my throat. “Yes.” The warmth of his tongue pressed against my skin. My back arched, my body tense, my toes curled.

With a wet finger, I felt him caress my hole. Soft, tender, his touch oddly ticklish. I clenched. He liked it when I did that. Around his finger, around his cock. I turned my head to see over my shoulder. He licked at his lips, smiling.

“Come on, cream puff,” he said, a hand at my hip, a hand turning me to face him. His robe open widely, revealing the chest pillow of hair and the treasure trail map leading down to his cock.

Stepping out of the onesie, leaving it on the floor. I wanted to be a part of him. I wanted him to be a part of me. I craved it.

He lifted me by my hips. I was really light. I liked to be picked up like this. His touch down my back as he pulled me on his chest. I was still wearing the tight pink jock strap. With a hand, he squeezed at my cock inside. Gentle. His fingers twitching. He squeezed a little harder. He knew if he kept doing it, I’d cum. I couldn’t control it.

“Slow, baby,” he said, tipping at my chin with two fingers. His fingers traced a circle around my mouth. Parting my lips, he forced them inside. “Wet them.”

With his wet fingers, he pressed them against my hole. Through a shallow breath, I pressed my bare skin to the soft hair on his body. My chin on his shoulder. A finger inside. He never forced it, always coaxed it in. He pressed with the second. I felt like a walnut being opened.

He kissed my neck. “How does that feel?”

“I’m—I’m ready to be your cream puff.”

With one hand at my ass, pulling at a cheek, and another guiding the pulsating warm tip of his cock to my hole. Clenching my eyes closed, I wanted to feel every part of him enter.

“Just the tip,” he said, kissing my head. “Relax.” He cooed. “Relax a bit.”

Easing on his cock, I could only think of the feeling of being opened, being expanded, and explored. Every time, it was the same intense exploration, my cock leaving a growing wet patch on the fabric.

His hands moved to my back, crossing each other as he reached for my shoulders. He pulled me down all the way to the base. He lifted me and pulled me back, sliding up and down on his cock.

“You like that?” he asked. “You want to take all of daddy’s cream?”

“Fill me up,” I let out, shallow from my throat. “I’m all yours. Daddy. I’m all yours.”

He tugged me harder, pressing me with a passion from his shoulders. “And you’re going to move in and be mine,” he said, “every night, every night you’re going to be all nice and fill.” His mouth to my ear, nibbling at the bottom of my lobe. “I’ll never let you want for anything.”

“Fill me up.”

“Are you going to cum?” he asked. “I’m letting you cum.” Pushing me to lean back. He pulled at the jock. My cock exploded with ribbons of cum, landing in his hair. He moaned, his intense hold on my shoulder clenching at me.

He filled me up. His cock throbbed. He was a squirty can of cream and I was his cream puff.