Spoiled Perfection

by Gianni Holmes

  “Don’t judge me,” I said before taking another sip. “You make the best damn coffee. You got me hooked to your coffee shop in case you can’t tell.”

  “And here I thought you just came around for me to draw hearts on your coffee cup.” He chuckled, turning his back to me when the toaster oven popped. He came back to the table and placed a small plate of toast before me.

  “I came around for you,” I answered without hesitation.

  “And why did you do that? Because you saw the tattoo and figured out what it meant?”

  “I only saw the tattoo after, but the tattoo made me bold enough to hit on you.”

  He grunted. “I don’t think you have a problem being bold at all.”

  No sense acting demure now. “Yeah, I’m not shy at all. I see what I want, and I go after it. I’m sure you can tell.”

  “That’s pretty forward for a boy, don’t you think? Couldn’t you let Daddy do the pursuing?”

  There he went across the kitchen from me again. He returned with a pen and notepad, which I assumed held his rules, but he didn’t show them to me.

  “If I did that, you would have never approached me,” I pointed out. “So I’m glad I didn’t stop until I wore you down. All the blows to my ego were worth it.”

  “Your ego is more than fine,” he replied, tapping the pen on the table. “I’m concerned about other things. Things that could make or break this relationship, and what happened last night is on the list. It can never happen again.”

  I tore off a small bite of toast and stuffed it into my mouth, testing whether or not my stomach would revolt. When it didn’t, I bit another piece, pondering his question.

  “Which part exactly?”

  “You coming here in the condition you were in.” All trace of teasing was gone from his face as he stared directly at me. “I’ve seen you drunk more times than I care for, Ashton.”

  I dropped the bread onto the plate and wrapped my arms around my waist. “I don’t mean anything by it.”

  “That’s one of my hard limits,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, even through the sternness. “You might not mean anything by it, but the people who care about you have to see you like that, and it’s not something I wish to go through with anyone ever again.”

  I widened my eyes at his words. Earlier he’d said something else to imply he had been with someone who had soured him for other men, but I couldn’t remember it. I had still gaps in my memory about last night and what I had done.

  “I only drink socially,” I said weakly.

  “I’m not saying you can’t drink socially,” he answered. “I’m saying I expect you to know when you’ve had enough. If you can’t do that, we can’t be in a relationship.”

  Give up a bottle for him? Damn right, I would. Drinking helped me to forget painful memories and the loneliness I felt. If I had him, all that would no longer be necessary.

  “We’ll go to AA meetings at least once a week,” he told me. “You may need the support to stop.”

  I blinked at him in disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

  “Does it look like I’m joking, boy?”

  “I’m not an alcoholic. I’m not addicted.”

  “Then there’s no harm in ensuring it stays that way, is there?” He interlocked his fingers on the notepad. “You think you’re fine, but on the weekends when you come to the coffee shop, you’re always drunk.”

  “Yes, but that’s because I was feeling lonely.”

  He was shaking his head even before I’d finished. “I will not be responsible for your sobriety, Ashton. I will help you. I will be there for you, but you’re not doing this for me. You’re doing it for you because if not for your driver, I shudder to think of some decisions you have likely made in that drunken state. You could have broken your neck climbing the stairs last night!”

  His voice had turned hard, and his color had paled. His fingers shook, and he pressed them together, but I’d seen the tremors, and I was intrigued. I wasn’t the only one with secrets here. He had them too.

  “I will go to the AA meetings,” I agreed. “I’ll show you, my mother, and Rue that I’m fine.”

  “If it’s one thing I’ve learned, Ashton, it’s that you can only survive for yourself. When people fail you, loving yourself will keep you alive.”

  “Okay.” A lot of food for thought. I’d never expected his list to feature such a heavy topic. What else would he throw at me?

  “Do you do drugs?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered easily. “There was that one time, but that was it— one time.”

  “How long ago?”

  “I was nineteen. First year in college. Believe me, I won’t make that mistake again.” I had never seen my father so mad in all my life.

  “You see that you do that, Ashton. That’s my dealbreaker. I find out that you’re using, and we’re through. I don’t do alcoholics, and I don’t do junkies.”

  “Before you continue, can I ask you a question?”

  He tore his eyes from his list and gave me his attention. “Sure. Go ahead. The only way this is going to work between us if you feel you can come to me and talk to me about anything.”

  “What happened to your last boy?”

  A flicker of surprise crossed his face, and I watched the shutters lower. Maybe too much too soon, but I needed to know how much this guy had affected him and how much I’d have to suffer for his mistakes.

  “Let’s just say it didn’t end well,” he replied, regaining his composure. “I thought I could save him, and in the end, I couldn’t. It made me realize, as a Daddy, I’m not here to rescue you. I’m here to help you and support you, but if you’re in need of rescuing, you’re going to have to want being rescued.”

  I tried to lighten the mood. “It’s a lucky thing I don’t need rescuing, then.”

  “That remains to be seen.” He got up from the table, sliding the notepad to me. “Those two we had to discuss openly so you know my stance. You should be able to understand the others on your own. If you’re not sure about something or want to negotiate, then let me know.”

  I blinked at the long list and swallowed my groan. Was he already dooming our relationship to fail? But at second glance, some of the rules didn’t look too bad. I was fully aware of him washing up while I read through them and processed the information. He was pretty thorough about his expectations of me. Mostly his list required me to be responsible and respectful.

  “How long until you finish college?” he asked me.

  “Two years.” I avoided looking at him. “I flunked some major courses I have to retake this year.”

  “We’ll have to work on that.”

  I did groan then. The thought of college was not exactly a pleasant one. “Why would you want to subject yourself to that torture?”

  When he didn’t immediately respond, I glanced up. He was frowning at me, his hands deep in suds.

  “Just what type of relationship do you think this is going to be?” He removed his hands from the water and wiped them on the dishtowel. “Are you just after kinky sex where you get to call me Daddy? Is that it?”

  “What?” I rose from my chair and took a step toward him. “Of course not.”

  “Then if I say I’ll help you, I mean that I will because I care about you,” he stated, sounding irritated. “If I just wanted sex, Ashton, I’d have fucked you and moved on from the first night you showed your interest.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you upset,” I rushed to say. Everything was still so freaking new, and we were still trying to figure us out. “It’s just that I’m not exactly the brightest when it comes to academics.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine if you spend less time on your phone, partying, and socializing. I’m going to see to it that you do.”

  My eyes widened. “You will?”

  “Yes. I’ll take away your phone privileges. You’ll be allowed to go out only after doing yo
ur assignments and going over whatever reading material you are given. And for each exam you pass, I’ll ensure you get a treat.”

  I inhaled deeply, my cock liking the idea of a treat. All the privileges he mentioned taking away lost precedence to that. Of course it meant that I’d have to put in the necessary work first to pass the exams. Sometimes I didn’t even believe I had it in me to finish college. But maybe if he helped me to maintain my focus, then I could.

  “What kind of treat?” I asked, moving past him to the rack beside the stove where he had some utensils that seemed more for decorating than everyday use. I grabbed the huge wooden spatula and held it out to him. “Perhaps a spanking with this?”

  A smile tugged at his lips as he took the spatula from me. “You love a good spanking, do you?”

  Instead of answering, I moved over to the table, leaned over, and pulled up his shirt around my waist, baring my ass to him. I spread my legs and pulled up the shirt some more, holding it tightly at the front.

  “I guess this one has to be removed from the list of punishment, then,” he said, moving behind me. “My friend gave me these large utensils when I moved in. I thought it was some kind of joke. Never thought I’d find use for it, but what do you know? I’m going to have to tell him my boy appreciates his gesture.”

  Chapter Nine

  Callum

  I was very much aware that before Ashton left my apartment today, he’d be well and thoroughly fucked. He’d been begging for it for a month, and I had been torturing myself without it for just as long. When he bent over the table and raised his shirt, baring his round ass to me, the timing for the event was pushed ahead of schedule.

  He knew just what he was doing, and I no longer wanted to resist such vision of perfection. I could take the whole day just to study the smooth surface of his ass, stamped with a small tattoo of an open mouth with a tongue sticking out. I could spend half a day just learning every curve of that ass. How the curve started so subtly from his slender waist and flared to the roundest at the sides with just the slightest overhang to make his ass jiggle the right amount when he moved.

  I’d spend the other half of the day exploring him with my mouth, making use of my tongue in his crevice until he had come a third time.

  But my dick wouldn’t have it. It wanted in, and I couldn’t deny myself. Not this time.

  I rubbed the back of the spatula over his skin, from cheek to cheek, letting him feel the thickness of the wood. I committed to memory the way he looked right now, flawless, knowing that I’d be marring the porcelain skin just as he wanted.

  “Do you want me to spank you with this spatula?” I asked him, even though I already knew the answer.

  “Please, Daddy,” he answered, and he moved his ass, twerking just a little like I’d seen him do at the club last night.

  “Stop moving, you horny boy. Don’t forget to stop me if it gets too much.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  I spanked his ass with the spatula in a practice shot, the wood making a slapping sound where it connected. The next smack was harder, but I worked him up, evenly placing each blow so they were never in the same place. I tested his threshold of pain, not surprised to find him groaning and begging when I spanked him as hard as I dared to. His moans, his heaving back, the cherry redness of his ass had my dick so hard I worked myself out of my sweatpants . Like him, I hadn’t bothered to put on underwear. I stroked myself between each slap as I gave him time to recuperate and brace himself for the next.

  “Oh my God, Daddy, please,” Ashton begged me, gripping the edge of the table.

  “Please, what?” I growled at him. “Use your words, boy. Tell me what you want.”

  “You,” he gasped. “I want you to fuck me now, please. I can’t take any more. Please fuck me hard.”

  “Patience, boy. Daddy knows when you’re ready.”

  With the spatula, I rubbed his ass cheeks, which had to sting. They were so deliciously red my mouth watered for a taste. I turned the spatula sideways and ran it down his crack. He keened, widening his legs, pushing back his ass for more.

  I placed the spatula beside him on the table. Then I leaned forward and licked my way up his spine, across his shoulder, to his ear. “Don’t move. I’ll get the lube.”

  When I returned, he was in the same position I had left him in. His breathing had slowed down immensely, though, which I was grateful for.

  “You didn’t move,” I said.

  “You told me not to, Daddy,” he replied.

  I smiled at his response, crouching behind him. I placed a kiss on his ass cheek and dragged my lips over his sensitive skin. “Good, boy. Then you deserve what I have in store for you.”

  “I’ll be a good boy,” he panted, and I shifted closer to his hole with my mouth. I didn’t spread his cheeks with my hands. Instead, I pushed my face between them, allowing each side to grip my face. I feathered my tongue over his hole gently at first but not for long.

  “Oh fuck, yes,” Ashton gasped. “Oh yes, Daddy. That feels so good. The way your tongue—oh!”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist, keeping him still. He was squirming so much as I keyed his hole with my tongue. He tasted of my soap. He smelled of me, and it drove me crazy.

  I pulled back and slapped his ass with both my hands. “Come on. Show me how much you want me. Shake that ass in Daddy’s face.”

  I released his hips and finally allowed him to move the way he wanted to. He went wild, his hips swaying, ass rotating, thrusting up in my face. When he was enjoying himself too much, I pulled back to calm him down.

  “There, that’s a good boy.” I stroked his hole with the calloused pad of my thumb. “You ready for Daddy’s cock?”

  “Yes! Yes, Daddy!”

  But I wasn’t ready to give him my cock just yet. I unwrapped the condom and slid it onto my dick, determined this time to come while I was inside him. I squirted lube onto my fingers and found the place my tongue had thoroughly plundered. He braced himself on his arms on the table, back arched. I coated the outer edges of his entrance with the lube before I fingered him, prepping him to receive my cock.

  When I caught sight of the spatula on the table, I had a stroke of genius. I removed my fingers and quickly rubbed lube over the curved handle of the utensil. The broadest part was as big as two of my fingers, which should be an easy enough fit for him.

  “Look at me.” He turned his head in my direction, peering at me, and I showed him the spatula. “I’m going to insert this up your ass and fuck you with it.”

  His whole body trembled with the long breath he let out. His eyes were hooded with desire. “Yes, please. And then you fuck me with your cock, Daddy.” His eyes dropped to my curved erection. “You’re so much bigger.”

  “Relax and keep still,” I instructed as I brought the handle forward between his butt cheeks. I didn’t penetrate him right away but let him feel and get accustomed to the smooth board rubbing over his entrance.

  “Hold your cheeks apart for Daddy.” When he eagerly did what I asked, I praised him. “That’s a good boy.”

  With him holding his cheeks apart, I got a perfect view of the handle of the spatula slipping inside his pink hole. I slowly continued the forward movement until I felt he’d had enough. Then I pumped it inside him, pulled out slightly and pushed back in.

  “Fuck, look at that pretty hole,” I hissed, hypnotized by his spread.

  “Harder, Daddy,” he begged. “Please, harder.”

  I slipped the handle out completely, then slid it carefully back in. The way he opened up before I stuffed him with the handle of the spatula was more arousing than I’d ever imagined. There was just so much I could take, and before long, I pulled the handle completely out and threw it to the floor.

  I grasped him by the hips, brushed his hands aside, and plunged into him with one hard stroke. He cried out, his body curving from the impact.

  “So fucking good,” I grunted, working m
y hips forward and back in a forceful stroke. His hole gripped my cock tight as I slid inside him, the suction of his muscles and the ridges clinging to me. What I wouldn’t give to feel him raw beneath me, but for now, this was enough.

  I slapped his ass, and he yelped, then moaned. “Again, Daddy.”

  I slapped him again and again between the strokes. “Touch yourself for me, boy,” I permitted him. “Come for me.”

  “Thank you, oh thank you, Daddy!”

  His hands moved in tandem to my cock plunging inside him. His breathing quickened, and he gasped, moaned, sweat trickling down his back. We were both sweaty, my hands slippery over his skin. I closed my eyes and crossed my hands over my chest to grasp my nipples between my forefinger and thumb. I pinched them hard, temporarily distracted from the keening boy beneath me, thrashing back against me in the throes of passion.

  “I’m coming!” he cried out. “I’m coming. Oh, fuck!”

  He shuddered against me, shivers running through him. Goose bumps ghosted his flesh, and he collapsed on top of the table, his harsh breathing filling the kitchen.

  I pulled out and helped him onto the table to sprawl on his back. I raised both his legs vertically to my chest and ran my tongue just inside his left one. He moaned, eyes barely open, chest heaving from his climax. He looked sated, but I wasn’t nearly through with him yet.

  Chapter Ten

  Ashton

  Callum was gorgeous. His body was lean and muscled in all the right places. I moaned when he turned me onto my back on the table, grateful for his assistance. My bones had turned to jelly, and I could barely raise my head. My knees bent to accommodate him, and as he plunged back in, he leaned forward and kissed me hard, tongue swirling into my mouth, which felt just as wonderful as my ass. Completely his.

  After this, there was no turning back. I was his. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so thoroughly pleased sleeping with anyone else. I’d definitely had fun having sex, but this was different. He might not have realized it, but he owned every bit of me.