Page 17 of Matteo's Mettle
Matt hesitates for barely a moment before he shakes out his shoulders and closes his eyes, exhaling with only a hint of shakiness. When he opens them again, he smiles, and it almost takes my breath away.
“Okay, sweetheart, arms up.” My hands move to the hem of his polo shirt and I’m gentle as I pull it up and over his head. He’s only a couple of inches taller than me, so it’s not as awkward a maneuver as I’d anticipated.
I turn to toss the shirt at the hamper in the corner nearest to the bedroom and then allow my gaze to rake over his body. He’s muscular and toned, no six-pack, but with definition beneath those big, sculpted pecs of his regardless. His olive skin is damn near flawless, and his chest hair is dark and silver streaked. It’s not copious, stretching out across his pecs and thinning as it tapers down his abdomen and into his happy trail, creating a natural arrow towards his belly button and beyond.
“You are beautiful, sweet boy,” I tell him after drinking him in, allowing my hands to coast over his broad shoulders and down his front, raking through the coarse hair on their journey to the waistband of his jeans.
“Thank you,” he breathes, then hesitates.
I clear my throat. “You, uh, you can call me Daddy if you want to.” Though I did read once that it’s a title that has to be earned, so I quickly add, “Unless that’s too much for now, or too fast.” Suddenly, I’m not feeling as confident as I was only minutes ago. Have I fucked this up already? “It’s just…I don’t like ‘Sir’ or anything like that, so…I mean…Daddy or London are good for me.”
Yep. I’ve ruined it. That has to be some sort of record, right? ‘World’s shortest stint as a Daddy’ or something?
Surprising me, Matt seems to relax at my fumbling. He presses his forehead to mine and lets out a happy little sigh. “I want to call you Daddy.”
It’s like fireworks explode inside me. I feel lit up from the inside, elated and energized. I chuckle and can’t resist pressing my lips to his in a short, chaste kiss which only makes the ecstatic buzz inside me last longer. “We probably should have discussed it before we started, huh?”
“Meh,” Matt shrugs, then rubs his bearded cheek against my clean-shaven one, though he can probably feel the prickle of a day’s worth of growth there now. “We can make it up as we go.”
“I like the sound of that.” The pressure is off that way. This is an agreement to learn and explore together. Even though he’s got years of experience as a little, I don’t feel like he has any expectations on how we should interact with each other in these roles. It feels like a clean slate for both of us, and that seems to reset my confidence.
He wiggles his hips from side to side with growing impatience, and I laugh. “Okay, I get the hint.”
He’s not wearing a belt, so I pop the button above his fly and then unzip him, hooking my fingers into the waistband and then dropping to my knees to tug the thick denim down. His legs are just as I remember them from seeing him romping around in his onesie, strong thighs and calves covered by a light carpet of dark hair. But the bulge straining against the front of tight black boxer briefs -and currently at my eye level- draws my attention, even as I help him step out of his jeans, thankful that we’d both kicked our shoes and socks off earlier.
Staying in this position, I reach for the band of his underwear and look up at him. “Color?” my voice is tight.
“Green,” Matt’s reply is quick.
I pull his boxer briefs down slowly, watching his cock spring free. I practically salivate as I visually take him in. He’s thick and long and gorgeous, a bead of pearly liquid gathering at the tip of his purpling head as I watch.
Another conversation we did not have springs to mind as I contemplate leaning forward and licking that drop of precum off him. “Have you been tested recently?”
“Yes, Daddy.” He sounds as affected as I am, and I can’t even describe the reaction I feel to finally being called that name directly. It’s like a bolt of lightning straight to my cock. I barely register that he’s still talking. “Last week. Tests were negative, and I’m on PrEP. I can show y-”
“I trust you, sweetheart,” I interrupt before indulging in the temptation in front of me, bringing my mouth to the crown of his cock. “And I’m the same.” That’s all I say before I give into the urge to I tease him, sucking the precum from him, and he proves to be delightfully responsive, sweet moans egging me on. “You taste so good.”
So good, in fact, that I’m tempted to forget the bath plan and suck him dry, but I force myself to pull back and push myself back to my feet. I glance at the tub and decide it can still run for another minute or two.
Asking Matt to stay put, I stride over to the vanity and start opening the cupboards beneath the sink. I grin when I find what I’m looking for, pulling out a small basket of bath toys and a red loofah with a plastic Elmo head attached to it. There’s also a bottle of baby wash, so I grab that, too.
Setting my collection down on the floor beside the tub, I unbutton the cuffs of my shirt and roll the sleeves to my elbows. Matt lets out a needy whimper, and I turn to watch his pupils dilating as he fixates on my forearms, then looks me over.
“Perfect, Daddy,” he says when his gaze finally meets mine. His cheeks are flushed, his green eyes glazing over. “You look…whoa.”
I glance past him and into the mirror above the vanity, immediately understanding that the business pants in combination with the rolled-up sleeves of my button down really do work for the Daddy vibes. It wasn’t intentional – I’d just gone directly to pick up Kate after I finished work. But I’m glad for the outfit choice now. With a smile, I lean over the tub and turn off the faucet, dipping my hand through a mountain of bubbles to test the temperature of the water below.
I right myself and offer Matt my dry hand. “Alright, sweet boy, I’ll help you in.”
He climbs over and sinks into the welcoming warmth with a deep sigh.
I observe him for a quiet moment. With his eyes closed and bubbles caught in his beard, his vulnerability seems even more obvious, and my heart gives a funny squeeze. Was it really only a few hours ago that we met? It feels longer.
“Which is your favorite toy?” I ask him when his eyes drift open, possibly at sensing my stare.
“Um,” he bites his lip, a gesture which should look strange on such a strong-looking man, but that I can only think of as adorable, “duckies, please Daddy. I have two.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that he uses the honorific every time he addresses me. I don’t know if that’s because it was a rule with his last Daddy, or if it’s because it’s been a while since he’s had the chance to call anyone by the title, but if it makes him half as happy as it makes me, I’m more than glad for him to do so.
