Page 32 of Kit
I leaned down until our mouths met. He was pliant and ready, the skin of his mouth soft and sweet.
The touch was not unusual to me. I’d kissed many men. But this was Kit. My feelings for him had developed quickly. Mybody and mind had already attuned to his, defined him as a very special little.
I kept the kiss innocent for the moment, mouth closed. The room swam around me. For a second, all the lights vanished, and I was in a white space, just me and my baby boy. I started to pull back, but Kit pushed forward and opened his mouth to me, tongue on my lips teasing at the seam to get in.
My mind went south. My cock firmed. I put my free hand on his other shoulder and tightened my grip, my mouth opening to meet his, to devour.
The lights came back, spinning. This seemed like a dream but wasn’t, kissing my boy by the Christmas tree with a fire behind me and his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.
Time hung suspended. Everything was in balance but also careening away from me.
I needed more of him. Wanted all of him. It took all my will power to pull back. We both gasped loudly for air.
He pressed his body against me, cock firm against my thigh.
“How fast to you want this to go?” I murmured.
He pressed his face against my chest and replied. “Not too fast, Daddy.” He pulled back and looked up at me, facing shining. “Not because I don’t want you to go fast, but because you’re special. I want to savor every moment. Remember every move we make.”
“Me, too. But I don’t want to let you down.”
“How could you? You’re everything I want in a daddy.”
I kissed him again, a quick peck, but in it held all my emotion.
My knees weakened. I steered him to the couch and we both sat at the same time, our arms around each other. Kit curled into me like he’d always been there.
“Sometimes,” I began, “if you build something up too much your expectations rise and you end up disappointed.”
Kit shook his head, tilting it up. “I don’t think you could disappoint me. You’re different.”
“I am?”
“Well, for one thing, I’ve never had a conversation like this before. No one has ever cared about taking things slowly. It’s always fast at the club. I’m used to it. But they’re not looking for relationships. Well, some are, but that part comes later. It’s almost the club motto. Sex first, feelings later.”
He was right. I’d been guilty of that, as well.
“For me,” Kit continued, “the feelings started when I sat in your lap. When you were Santa. The embrace of that. Your costume. Everything about you. Thrill and safety. Your focus all on me, asking me about whatever I might want. I know you were acting, but it’s every little’s longing. Sitting in your lap was like the sex already happened. Or maybe that by itself was sex to my lonely body.”
“Was it the powerful Santa image?” I had to know. I had put myself into that being, but Santa was also a character. Not real.
“At first.” Kit rubbed his forehead against my cheek. “Only at first. But the mystique of who was beneath that beard grabbed me hard, too.”
He used big boy words now. Serious.
“I have a confession to make, too,” I said.
“Tell me.”
“You were about the hundredth person I’d had on my lap that night. I was playing the role but tuning out feelings. Then you came up and it was like you woke me up.” I stopped, unsure how to describe more.
“I like that.” Kit squirmed closer. “I woke you up.”
I laughed. “The magic of Santa and Christmas.”
“It’s strange,” Kit said.
“What?”
