by T C Heffer
He knows he should probably say something. He could've convinced himself that he was only imagining things during the basketball game. There was no way Jeremy was actually attracted to him in return, right? No way would sexy-as-sin Jeremy King want anything to do with young, virginal Pete Campbell—not in a romantic or sexual sense, anyway. But after that afternoon at the movies…as much as Jeremy basically coming on to him goes against every ounce of logic Pete possesses, that's irrefutably what's happening.
Now if Pete could only buck up the courage to do something about it.
He gets his chance when his Dad is rushing about the house getting ready to go into the station that evening. Pete is sitting on the living room sofa watching TV when he hears the Chief swear from the dining room.
"Motherfucker!"
Pete is immediately concerned; it's not like the Chief to cuss like that. When he pauses the current episode and goes to investigate, he finds his Dad standing next to the dining table with a credit card in his hand. "Dad? What's wrong?"
The Chief looks up from the card. "Sorry," he says. "I just found one of Jeremy's credit cards beneath the table. It must've fallen out of his wallet or something when we had him over for dinner."
"And that's a reason to swear up a storm like that because…?"
"Because I don't have time to return it right now." The Chief puts the card down on the table and rushes through to the foyer. "I'm almost late as it is. We've got a couple new recruits down at the station, and me being late wouldn't set a good example. He'll just have to manage with it for another day. Hell, he might've even cancelled it by now. It's what I'd do as soon as I lost one of mine."
Pete has an idea. "I could take it back, if you want," he suggests, picking the card up before he can think better of it.
The Chief pokes his head back into the dining room. "Really?"
"Yeah, sure. It's not like I'm doing anything interesting anyway, and I've already done all my homework."
"I'd be grateful then, and I'm sure Jeremy will be too."
When his Dad vanishes again, Pete slips Jeremy's credit card into his pocket next to his phone and joins the Chief in the foyer, his heart beating fast. "So…where does he live?"
* * *
Pete stares up at Jeremy's house and swallows down his nervousness. He can't believe he's really about to do what he's about to do. It's so scandalous. He's certain that, if his Dad knew the true reason he'd offered to return Jeremy's credit card to its owner, he would've freaked. But Pete is eighteen years old—a consenting adult in the eyes of the law—and if it turns out he really hadn't misread the signals he believes Jeremy has been sending him, there's not really any reason for his Dad to get mad at him when he does something about those signals.
Maybe Pete should feel bad about potentially endangering one of his Dad's friendships, but he holds off any potential guilt by telling himself that it'll be Jeremy's choice to do this with him. Pete won't be making him do anything. He's possibly a terrible person, but he still gets out of his old Kia and walks up the path to Jeremy's front door.
There's a light shining behind the curtains hanging in the bay window to the left, presumably from the living room, and there's a silver Porsche parked in the driveway, so he presumes Jeremy is home.
No backing out now.
When he's in position, Pete takes a deep breath and raises his finger to ring the doorbell. A musical chime sounds from inside the house, and while he waits for Jeremy to answer the door, Pete notes the well-worn welcome mat beneath his shoes and the two neatly trimmed plants on either side of the porch step. Glancing behind him, he sees that the grass in the front yard is mowed short too, leading him to the conclusion that Jeremy stays on top of his household chores.
It's a stupid thing to be thinking about when he might be moments away from losing his virginity to a total DILF, but that's just the way Pete's mind works.
Not too long later, there comes movement from the other side of the door, a latch clicks, and then the door swings inward to reveal Jeremy standing there in all his glory. It must be a casual evening at home for him, at least judging by his attire. He sports a plain, dark-purple hoodie that's unzipped all the way, showing off a strip of his hairy chest and abs, and paired with this is nothing but a pair of old, comfortable-looking jeans. Jeremy's feet are bare, and something about the sight of them peeking out from beneath the denim hems is both adorable and sensual.
When he finishes his inspection, Pete returns his gaze to Jeremy's face.
"Pete?" the man says, surprise in his voice and countenance. "This is unexpected. What're you doing here, especially this late?"
"I, uh…you left this at our house so…I wanted to return it to you," Pete explains, proffering the credit card.
Jeremy's surprise is replaced by gratitude. "Oh, thank you," he says, taking the card and placing it on a small table to the left of the door. Then he regards Pete closely, watching the way he squirms on the doorstep. After a few moments of this, he must take pity on him. "It's cold outside. D'you want to come in?"
Pete nods and enters the house when Jeremy steps aside to permit him. Once the door is closed, he prays for courage. "So…" he says awkwardly.
Jeremy doesn't help him, just keeps staring.
Pursing his own lips, Pete shakes his arms at his sides in an effort to rid himself of his nerves and tells himself to just go for it. He'll face the consequences—whatever they may be—after the fact. Something tells him they'll be worth getting to be with someone like Jeremy. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and he'd be a fool to pass it up.
Meeting Jeremy's pretty eyes, Pete takes a step closer and then all but launches himself at him, crashing their mouths together. It's sloppy and uncoordinated and, as soon as their lips touch, Pete feels like he's only embarrassed himself by showing his inexperience in such an obvious way. Before Jeremy can reject him, he retreats, taking several steps backward as all the confidence he'd managed to scrape together leaves him like ashes carried away in a strong breeze.
He keeps looking at the floor and waits for Jeremy to say something, to say that this was a mistake and that Pete should go back home and never talk to him again. But nothing happens. Jeremy is silent for so long that it unnerves Pete and he just has to raise his head.
Jeremy finally speaks as soon as their eyes lock. "Getting second thoughts?"
Pete swallows tightly. "Umm…what?"
With a smirk firmly in place, it's Jeremy who closes the distance between them this time. He keeps advancing, even as Pete backs away, and doesn't stop until Pete's back hits the wall. He lifts his arms and plants his hands to the wall on either side of the teenager's head, well and truly boxing him in. There are mere inches between their bodies now, and Pete can feel the heat coming off of Jeremy, can smell his manly musk. Jeremy is only a couple inches taller, but crowded as he is now, Pete has never felt so small.
"I asked if you were getting second thoughts," Jeremy whispers. It's like he's sharing a secret.
Pete can't look away from him now. "P-part of me is, I guess," he confides. "You could have anyone, and I'm just, y'know…me. Plus, you're like, twice my age."
Jeremy cocks his head to the side. "I suspected that our age difference turned you on."
"It does," Pete admits, "but what about my Dad? He wouldn't like this. I shouldn't have kissed you. I shouldn't even be here right now."
"Then why did you come?"
That shuts Pete up again, and he feels the blood that's not currently in his dick rush up to his cheeks like he's the cliché blushing virgin. If the shoe fits, he supposes.
Said man doesn't move an inch. "You're eighteen, right?"
"Y-yeah."
"Then what's the problem? You want me. I want you. As far as I can see, that's all that matters."
Pete arches a disbelieving eyebrow. "So you'd be okay with my Dad never speaking to you again because you fucked his barely legal son?"
"Let me handle your Dad. Yes, he'll probably
be mad at first and I'm worried about damaging our friendship, but he's a reasonable man. We're both consenting adults, so we won't be doing anything wrong."
"You sound so sure…"
"And I take it you're not."
"Not really. It's weird to be attracted to someone who's closer to my Dad's age than mine."
"See, I think that's exactly what you want," Jeremy says salaciously. He brings his mouth close so that it's right next to Pete's ear. "I think you want a nice, strong Daddy like me to take care of you, to take you in hand and make you feel things you've never felt before. Am I right, boy?"
"Fuck," Pete mouths, his voice nonexistent.
Daddy kink has never been on his radar, not even after the rather vigorous and extensive 'research' he did when he first discovered his sexuality and got his own computer. But something about Jeremy calling him his boy—and the thought of referring to Jeremy as his Daddy in return—is titillating. Plus, it seems to tie into everything he's been fretting about recently in terms of his future and having to think for himself. Sure, what's happening between him and Jeremy won't solve that, and it might not even be what Jeremy means at all. It could just be a sexual game, which is fine, but Pete can't help but think that, just maybe, calling Jeremy 'Daddy' could mean more. It could be the answer to all his troubles.
At least that's what he hopes for.
Pete's heart races in his chest and his breathing picks up slightly, and he can't stop a moan from slipping out when Jeremy nibbles lightly on his earlobe.
"Well? What's it gonna be, baby?" Jeremy asks him.
Pete opens and closes his mouth several times before his voice comes back to him. Instead of agreeing through conventional means, he breathes out a needy, "Daddy…" and that's thankfully all it takes for Jeremy to take him.
— CHAPTER THREE —
- Saturday, November 23rd, 2013 -
Jeremy has trouble believing this is really happening.
When he first laid his eyes on Pete a week ago, he was stunned. He knew that Adam had an eighteen-year-old son, but they'd never met before and he never thought that Pete would look like he did. In short: he was absolutely the most adorable boy Jeremy had ever seen, with his big blue eyes and blond curls. The way those eyes had widened with surprise when he first saw Jeremy was almost too much. It was obvious that Pete liked what he saw as well. He averted his gaze submissively and the bulge in his sweatpants got larger, both things that only increased Jeremy's interest.
But should he do anything about it, he'd wondered.
Adam was one of his best friends, and he treasured their friendship dearly. But Pete was so tempting. He couldn't say why, but something told him that Pete would make the perfect little boy, that he'd love Jeremy to take him under his wing and have his way with him.
In the end, after dreaming of nothing but having Pete in his arms, sweetly calling him Daddy or moaning beneath him, Jeremy decided to take a chance and wangled an invite to dinner with Pete and his Dad. He hadn't intended to run into Pete any of the other times over the past week, but he wasn't one to ignore such perfect opportunities to test the water. A stroke of his hand down Pete's back in the grocery store, feeling the way Pete shuddered at his touch. An offer to sit together in the movie theatre and a squeeze of his hand around the back of Pete's neck, enjoying the way it made the eighteen-year-old go boneless in his seat.
All of it confirmed to Jeremy that Pete could be perfect for him.
And then tonight, when Pete showed up on his doorstep with his missing credit card in hand, Jeremy couldn't resist taking things to the next level. After getting Pete inside, secluding them in total privacy for the first time, Jeremy was thinking about how to proceed, how best to address the tension between them, when Pete beat him to it.
His brave boy.
Now, Jeremy surges forward and presses Pete back into the wall, cupping the side of his face with one hand as they kiss again. He licks suggestively at the seam of Pete's lips and moans when he's permitted entrance, getting his first taste of Pete's mouth. It's better than he could've hoped for, especially when he coaxes Pete to relax into it, not to rush. They have plenty of time for fervent kisses later.
When they separate, Jeremy slips both hands beneath Pete's thighs and hoists him up. Pete wraps his arms around his neck and holds on as Jeremy carries him through to the living room. He walks around the black leather sofa and deposits the teenager in the small space between it and the coffee table before sitting down.
"Before we do anything else," Jeremy says seriously, "we need to clarify some things. One: you won't get vanilla sex from me."
Pete blinks down at him. "What d'you mean?"
"I mean that I'm usually a dominant lover. Not like hardcore BDSM, but if we do this, I expect you to submit."
Pete's breath hitches. "Just in the bedroom, or…?"
Jeremy hums softly, thinking of the best way to describe what he needs out of a relationship or sexual encounter without scaring the boy off. "Definitely in the bedroom, but not really the rest of the time outside of a few rules that we'll get into later. I won't do anything you don't want, and you'll have a safeword to use if you want me to stop at any time."
"Oh. Okay. What safeword?"
"Just the stoplight system should work fine. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for everything's fine. If we're going to do this, I want to do it right."
Pete nods. "I understand."
"Second: I'd like it if you kept calling me Daddy," Jeremy reveals, ripping the Band-Aid off. He hopes he wasn't wrong about Pete.
"Oh wow," Pete says, his mouth hanging open. "Like, all the time? It's not just, like, a game?"
Chuckling at Pete's reaction, Jeremy gestures for the boy to come closer. He draws him down to straddle his lap and fits his hands around Pete's hips. "Whenever it's just the two of us, for sure. I'll leave other times up to you. If you're comfortable with that, you'd still better hold off on calling me Daddy around Adam until he knows about us."
"There's an 'us'?"
"If you want there to be. I'm definitely interested in this continuing beyond tonight."
"Just…" Pete worries at his bottom lip, drawing Pete's focus there. He releases it after a second and swipes his tongue across it to soothe the ache. "As just a sex thing?"
"If that's all you're after. Or if you want more—to go on dates and see if this could be a proper relationship—I'm completely fine with that too. You're very cute, and I'm definitely interested in that."
Jeremy gives the boy time to process this, and then his heart skips in his chest when Pete nods and says, "That sounds good to me."
Satisfied enough by this answer, Jeremy lets his dominant Daddy side overtake him. "Strip," he commands, tone brooking no argument.
Pete scrambles to obey, sending clothes flying before any sense of self-consciousness can grip him. Once he's naked, he stands in front of Jeremy again and awaits further instruction.
"Let me get a good look at you, baby," Jeremy says, licking his lips. "Turn around. Slowly."
Pete does a slow, 360-degree turn, earning him a hum of approval. He's nothing but miles of pale skin and lithe muscle, almost done growing into himself but not quite finished yet. His small, pink nipples just beg to be played with, and his cock is slender and an average length of six inches, the shaft curving upward slightly and the head circumcised. It's just as cute as the rest of him, with the blond curls above trimmed close to the skin. His balls are drawn up tight, like he's so turned on that he's already close to orgasming. Even so, the teenager's hands twitch at his sides like he's thinking about covering himself, insecurity finally creeping in under Jeremy's scrutiny. It speaks of his inexperience and lack of confidence. He must not believe there's anything special about him to look at, and this is a notion Jeremy would very much like to disabuse him of by the end of tonight.
"Have you ever had anyone touch you before?" he enquires curiously.
"N-no," Pete stammers, completing his turn after
giving Jeremy ample time to appraise his smooth, perky ass.
"Really? I'd have thought a stunning boy like you would've had a lot of people interested in him."
Pete shakes his head bashfully. "Nope. Not before you, anyway."
"So you're a virgin?"
Pete's lips twist into a grimace. "Yeah."
"Their loss is my gain, then."
Jeremy brings Pete back into his lap and chuckles when Pete tentatively rests his hands on his broad chest, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of his unzipped hoodie.
"Do you want to touch me, baby?" Jeremy enquires, already sure of the answer.
Pete nods jerkily and accidentally flicks one of his pinky fingers over Jeremy's nipple, causing him to grunt.
"You'll have your turn soon, sweetheart," Jeremy assures him, not missing how the pet name has Pete's eyelids fluttering with pleasure. "You like me calling you that?"
"Yeah," Pete responds breathlessly. "S'nice."
"Yes what, baby?"
Pete's eyes widen infinitesimally as he registers his mistake. "Sorry. Yes, Daddy."
Jeremy rubs Pete's bare thighs, the fine, blond hairs sprinkling them tickling his palms. "It's okay. It'll take a while before calling me that comes naturally to you. For now, though…"
Jeremy kisses the boy again and moves one of his hands between Pete's legs, wrapping it around his erection. Pete whines into his mouth and bucks up into his grip, chasing his own pleasure. Jeremy allows this for a short while, finding a rhythm with him until he feels Pete's muscles tense up.
"Daddy!" Pete complains when Jeremy takes his hand away, not ready for the boy to cum just yet.
"Later, baby," Jeremy promises. "I'll take care of you. I'm not done having my fun with you yet."
Pete pouts but doesn't voice his disappointment any further, so Jeremy smiles at him and gets to his feet with Pete in his arms. He moves them through the foyer, up the stairs and into the master bedroom, where he'll carry out the rest of his plans.