Hello, everyone. Please feel free to email me any comments you have on this at spiffy_psycho@yahoo.com. This is my first work of pure smut. If you are looking for a tale with meaning, character and plot, look at my other stories. I thought I'd try something a bit lighter than my usual fair for this writing experience. In this story, I have challenged myself to write everything in the present tense, which is a very annoying tense to write in. You may have noticed that almost all stories are written in the past tense.

Well enough of that! Here is my pure smut story – dealing with a particular “kink,” if that's what you want to call it, that I have never fully understood. I hope I have the psychology of it down right. I'm not really planning any future chapters, unless more are requested. We'll see.

Please feel free to explore my two Internet “novellas” at http://spiffy_psycho.tripod.com. They are each in a different genres, with a different tone all together.

This story is definitely for the 18+ crowd, so if you're a minor, you might want to go back to a tale that is not so.. graphic. Enjoy.


Daddy's Boy

by David M. Roduner

What am I doing here? I have already given up on the whole relationship thing. Yet here I am, in this strange combination gay bar/restaurant. The waiter seated me with that sad look on his face. Alone? Yes, damn it all.

I'm alone for the long haul, as they say. So why, out of all the possible places to eat, did I go here? I do not even understand myself sometimes. Idiot! Who would want me, anyway? I am twenty-six and balding already. And yes, I have the paunch: the spare tire to match. Not a huge belly, mind you, but not a stomach that leads inwards, as it did in my youth. Let us say it is enough to be noticed, but not enough to be unhealthily obese.

I miss being skinny. My metabolism, though, has given two weeks' notice and left the premises. It hardly matters anymore, though. 'Alone I live and alone I shall die,' I always tell myself. There is no one to look good for or to impress, anyway. Now that I have been alone for almost a year now, I just do not care anymore.

It's nice to look at pretty boys, of course. Twinks. Something I could never be. I was always too nerdy, too... old. I have always communicated with those that are older than I, even as a child. The quandary is that I am attracted to the pretty boys.

Oh well! Another reason to go it alone. It is safer this way. So here I am, eating my meal as I notice a gaggle of twinks walk by. I check them out, as that is my requirement to do so as a gay man. One of them sarcastically cackles out, “Oh, daddy!” I grimace unhappily. Being reminded of my physical deterioration is not exactly a hobby of mine.

One of the boys in the gaggle looks back and throws a small smile. I notice his stone grey shirt, which reads in bold pink lower-case letters: daddy's boy. I chuckle to myself. Why try to insult the kettle, calling it black when that's the color you like? Men always confuse me. I guess it would not be a bit easier if I were, heaven forbid, straight.

I finished what I want of my ordered food and have the swishy waiter box up the remains. As I sign the receipt and prepare to leave, the boy with the shirt runs up to me at full speed, hands waiving effeminately in the air.

I look down and notice teal shorts to match his shirt. I smirk to myself. “Hi,” the boy squeaks. I study this boy: what does he want? He hops up on a swiveling barstool at the now empty table and circles around. He shows off his shirt and asks, “Y'like it?”

I look off into the distance and see his friends with pouting, folded arms. My, they do not seem very happy! “It says Daddy's Boy.” I smile at the boy, but am getting bored. “I wish I had a daddy,” he continues. I nod my head in what I imagine should be agreement, thinking, 'then why don't you just get one?!' “Are you a daddy?” Oh boy. I should have seen this one coming.

Not really, kiddo,” I answer. “I'm a loner. I've had enough hurt for this lifetime. And isn't twenty-six too old for a pretty boy like you?”

Actually, you'd be pretty young for a daddy,” the boy disagrees. I smile and shake my head in disbelief. “But you look like you need a boy. You look.. empty.”

His honest words strike down my defenses. “With all the beautiful people around, why me?” I ask, after a painful silence.

Why not?” He responds, confused. “You said I was pretty. Did ya mean it, daddy?”

I run my hand down his smooth face. “You are very pretty,” I say, “but I am old and my love life is over.”

I drop my hand and turn away. The boy's lip trembles and he sobs. “Please be my daddy – at least for tonight. Don't make me go back to them.” I look over to the other twinks and see them huddled together. Every now and then, one of them stares at us. This makes me frown. This is exactly why I don't like children. “They hurt me. They make me buy and sell their drugs.” I was confused. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I know you don't really want to hear this.” The boy's eyes look to the ground.

For some reason, he is making me weaken. “No, tell me,” I find myself saying.

Looking back up with hope, he continues: “They make me buy and sell their drugs, so if I'm caught, I go to jail, not them. If I don't they'll kick me out, and I have no where to go. But worse yet, they say they'll tell my... father, the sperm donor, where I am. He wants to kill the girlie-boy after I put him in prison for killing my mommy when I was a teenager.”

'Why are you telling me this,' I wonder. “I'm sorry to hear about your troubles,” I say, reverting back to my professional empathy I use for work. But unlike work, I do genuinely feel sorry for the little boy. He's lost in a world that doesn't care anymore. But why me? “But I can't be your daddy or anyone else's, for that matter. First of all, that's way too kinky for me! Secondly, I just don't bother with relationships anymore. I have my house, my friends, my beamer and my cat. And that is all I need.”

Please, daddy,” the boy begs, “let me be your boy. I could clean your house, make dinner for your friends, clean your car, and feed and clean up after your cat. Please, sir.” The boy's eyes dilate, and he whimpers softly. I survey the boy for the first time in detail. He seems rather short, maybe five foot six or seven, with a cute little button nose. He has deep green eyes with long, girlish lashes and spiked hair as bright as a carrot. And the boy has .. makeup on! Not much, but a light shape of lipstick, with a little bit of eyeliner, and some rouge to accent his cheeks. The coup de grâce is glitter sprinkled on his body to make him “shimmer,” I suppose.

Please,” the boy continues, “this is the only time they will let me out. And it's been three years. Three years without a daddy. They say if I can't find a daddy for this one night, then I won't be allowed out again. They are tired of my begging to be let out to breathe, I think. Please take me to your nice house for tonight only if you want. Please, just so I can be away from them for a little while. I'll leave in the morning if you want, and never bug you again. I promise.”

What could it hurt? If the kid's story was true, then he deserved a break in his tough life. Not even believing that I am doing it myself, I acquiesce. I grab the boy on either side of his chest and lift his thin frame off of the stool and let go as he lands on the floor. “Thank you, daddy,” he says happily. I glance over at his reportedly cruel drug dealing friends and notice they are angrily staring us down. As we begin to walk out of the restaurant/bar, they emit three slow, sarcastic claps. Stupid wankers, I think. “Let's get out of here fast,” the boy says a bit too anxiously for my taste.

Why?” I ask.

Because I don't want them following us,” he responds nervously. I grab the boy's hand and walk him quickly to the car. As we pull out of the small parking lot, I see them running to their car. But they are too late. The boy and I are zooming past, and with the night time traffic starting up, we will be a car among hundreds. “Thank you, daddy,” the boy says quietly.

So what is your name? And why should either of us trust each other when we don't even know each other?” I quiz the boy as I pull onto the highway.

My name is Erik. Erik Van Gliden. And if we can't let loose and trust each other, who can we trust? You can go around nervous of your own shadow, or you can trust that the shadow will be there with you, even in the dark.”

I look at the boy, Erik Van Gliden, and smile. There's more to this kid than meets the eye. He isn't as dumb as he pretends to be. “My name is Adam Wächter,” I inform the boy – Erik, I mean. I have to remember to call him by name.

You're just daddy to me,” he replies, putting his hand in mine. I sigh. This whole daddy thing is really weird, but if it makes the kid, Erik, feel better, he can call me it. “Thank you for doing this,” he says after a brief silence. “I know you didn't want to, but maybe it will bring a whole change to both our lives.”

One day at a time, kid,” I reply, smiling. Smiling.. I don't remember the last time I have done that. It has been a long time. Maybe I do need Erik, if just for tonight. One night only, I remind myself. Let us not dive too deeply into something out of reach! I pull off of the highway and turn left onto my street.

Erik oohs over the older Victorian-era homes on my street. “I like that one!” he states happily, bouncing on his seat, pointing to a brick house of moderate size.

I smile as I turn to him and say, “Good, because that is my home.” I pull into the alley and park the beamer in the garage behind my home. Now don't get me wrong: I'm not rich by any stretch of the imagination. My beamer was found through a friend for a bargain, and now I'm in love with it. As we walk through the back yard to the house, I feel embarrassed at seeing my shabby yard. I hate mowing the grass, so I mow as little as possible.

It's a moderately small home and a corresponding lot, so the yard is pretty thin, about thirty feet across and about one hundred feet deep, including the house. As I open the door, the alarm chirps unhappily. I quickly punch in the access code as Erik looks around. I then close the back door and smile nervously at Erik. Erik beams back and strips off his shirt to reveal a smooth, pale chest. Not an ounce of hair. I notice that he even shaves his armpits. Too much work for me! I leave my body the way it is. Erik then proceeds to strip off his teal shorts, revealing, “Pink Panties?!” I exclaim.

Yes, daddy,” he replies. “They feel so nice on my boy-butt. I love being a boy, but I also like to be a little bit girlie too.” Well, that would explain the makeup. But this is just too weird! “Do you have any lube for my boyhole, daddy, because I forgot to bring some.”

I look at Erik in shock. I had just closed the bloody door! “Now boy, err Erik,” I state, but am interrupted.

Just call my boy, daddy. I really like it. It makes me feel all gooey inside.”

I don't know if being gooey is good or bad, but I continue. “Boy, we just got in here. I never said I was going to have sex. This wasn't part of the bargain. I brought you here so you could have a moment to escape from those creeps for a night. I can't just randomly have sex with men. I'm not a whore or anything.”

I'm not either daddy, but I want it with you. I haven't had a daddy-dick for three years, and my hole is itching. But if you're not ready, it's all right. I just hope you'll be ready soon. I may not get another chance to find a nice daddy like you.” I look at the boy sadly and realize that he places his own self worth on weather men find him attractive enough to have sex with. What kind of depraved philosophy is this? But then I remember: it is the philosophy of too many twinks in the gay community.

I walk into the living room, where I have my wide screen digital television set up. I pull out my large collection of DVDs and present them to the boy. “Here boy,” I say calmly, “pick one out and we can watch a movie.

The boy's face brightens as he says, “Ok, daddy!” Then he wiggles his butt as he runs to a recliner to pick one out from my massive collection. I am afraid that I am a collector of films of almost any genre but western. The boy concentrates on the selection as I plop down into my grandmother's sofa from the 1940s. It's a cream color with gold accents, and is one of my favorite pieces of furniture. The cushions, however have a tendency to slide forward if you sit in it wrong. “Is this the Disney one, daddy?”

I look up and am shocked to see that Erik has chosen one of my favorite films, Jean Cocteau's la Belle et la bête, though the English title “Beauty and the Beast: Criterion Edition” is on the DVD title. “No, my boy. It is very different. It was released in 1946, right after World War II, and was produced on a shoestring budget. It's all in subtitles. But the film is elegant and absolutely beautiful.”

“If you like it daddy, then I wanna watch it!” I smile to the boy and place the movie into the DVD player to start it up. I sit on the center of the couch and listen to the rolling drum as the film begins, with Cocteau's translated words, ending with “..childhood's “Open Sesame.” Once upon a time...”

Erik walks over to me, and asks, “Can I sit on your lap, daddy?” I look up at him with raised eyebrows and consider his strange request. I shrug, and the boy happily sits down. The boy is short and light enough that it causes little discomfort. We watch and enjoy the film. As Belle's father awakes and walks outside of the castle, we watch him pluck a rose from the Beast's garden. Then the Beast appears. “Ooh,” Erik moans, grinding his pink panty-covered bottom into my lap, “I love hairy daddies. Are you hairy?” he asks.

A little,” I manage to get out, as I feel my cock lengthening. We watch the film progress, and then it ends. Erik has kept me hard through the whole thing, rubbing himself against me at opportune moments.

That was a bratty little trick,” I say to the boy lifting him stomach down over my knee. I swat his round bubble butt.

Have I been bad, daddy?” Erik asks, grinning and lowering the panties to expose his naked ass. I cup my palms on his exposed ass and stop. This is beginning to get very weird! Beginning? Well it's weird none the less. This is most definitely not my style. So why am I here with Erik, this boy that I don't even know on my lap? This is just too odd.

Hormones make us do such damn stupid things. Erik looks up at me innocently, or as innocently as his face can manage. “Is something wrong, daddy? Aren't ya gonna spank my naughty bottom?” He wiggles to accent his question.

Erik,” I respond, pushing him off my lap, “I don't even know you. I really do not feel right doing this.”

Erik studies my face and sits on my lap, facing me, draping his arms around my shoulders. “What do you want to know? I'm 29,” he starts, with my face providing an incredulous expression, “Scandinavian and Irish blood – see the hair? And young looking. I want to be a boy my whole life. I want a daddy to take care of me, and I want to take good care of my daddy.”

I look at Erik and run my fingers through his spiky hair. The boy purrs in happiness. “How can you know that I won't hurt you? All of my other relationships have been a disaster.” I am so afraid of hurting this beautiful boy, and I find that he is growing on me. More than being absolutely stunning, I have this inane desire to love and protect him. But I can't! I won't! I have had my share, and it is time to live my life without worrying about all this. I made a promise to myself...

You won't hurt me, daddy. I knew that when I saw you in the bar, Wexford Station, sitting on that barstool. You were sad, but you wouldn't hurt me. Unless I wanted ya to,” he responds, grinning slyly. “But daddy,” he continues, “I really need you in me soon or I'll just die. I feel it by my naked boybutt right now. I long, but not too thick. Won't you slide it in and out of me?”

I don't know what to do. This kid.. well, even though he's older than me, I still see him as a kid, is driving me mad. I do want to fuck him silly. His naked bottom sliding on me is driving me wild. I moan softly as I hear a sucking sound. Lost in my thoughts, I look down to see spiky red hair bobbing up and down. The boy is sucking me off like there is no tomorrow!

“Pretty aggressive for a daddy's boy, aren't you?” I ask.

Erik's lips make a smacking sound as he releases my appendage. “I was hungry for daddy meat,” he replies boyishly. “I want to make it slippery so it slides right in.” I smile at Erik. In for a penny, in for a pound. The pun is intended.

It seems dirty, it seems wrong, but I don't care any more. I pull my dick from the boy's mouth and slap his face with it. He moans appreciatively. This is still too kinky for me, but I play along. “You want this, boy?” I ask.

“Yes, daddy,” he begs. “Please, give it to me!”

“Give what to you, boy?”

“Give me your cock! Shove it up my boyhole!” Erik lifts his legs up to his ears and I see his hole open and close hungrily. “Give me your big, hard cock!” The boy's filthy words have my dick throbbing in anticipation. This boy – though not a boy, as he is older than me – has an produced an effect that no other has before. He seems to draw me in somehow. It is simply uncanny.

I pull him up, squeezing his bubble butt roughly. “Go to the shower and clean yourself out,” I command. Erik looks in surprise at my aggression. I slap his tight bubble butt. “Did you here, what I said, boy? Clean yourself for me.”

“Yes daddy,” he replies with doelike eyes. He sprints away, turning me on more as he shakes his horny boybutt as he runs upstairs, trying to find the shower in this unfamiliar home. I soon hear the water running. I walk up to the bedroom and pull out the large bottle of ID Lubricant. In the adjacent bathroom, I can tell that the boy has found the detachable shower head and has it squirting warm water up his boyhole. I hear him moan, “Oh yes daddy, shove that monster up me. Make me yours,” I chuckle as his endless fantasy.

I walk into the bathroom and strip off my shirt and pants. I finally remove my boxers and step into the shower. “Daddy!” Erik coos.

“Are you clean?” I ask. The boy nods affirmatively. I grab the shower head and replace it. I then push the boy on his back. He grabs his knees and moans in anticipation. I get down on my knees and spread his asscheeks. I open my mouth and stick my tongue into his clean opening.

“Oh daddy!” he screams. “Your tongue feels so good in my boyhole!”

I think I had forgotten how truly wonderful it is to rim a guy. The sound of his moaning always drives me mad with lust. And this boy here is doing just that. He is showing his body onto my tongue, impaling himself on me as the shower pours water down on us.

I can't wait any longer. I have had enough. I stand up as the boy whines at my tongue's absence. His boypussy tastes like honey, but not I will give him what he has been begging for.

I squirt some shampoo on my fingers and spread it around and in his hole. Erik makes a breathy moan as my fingers slide inside him. I remove the them, much to the boy's chagrin. I lather my penis with the shampoo and push my throbbing cock inside the boy.

“Daddy, yes!” The boy screams in elation. “I've needed this for so long. Give it to me!” I grab the boy by his delicious ass and pull him back, impaling him on my hard shaft. I continue the slow thrusting motion for a few minutes, but the hot water quickly runs out. “Daddy, brrrrr! This is c-c-cold!”

I kick the faucet with my foot, turning off the water. I pull out of the boy and lift him onto the bathroom sink. He looks at me with sparkling eyes as he almost literally throws his legs into the air, landing on my shoulders. “Daddy has nice chest hair,” Erik says, grinning.

I look down at his naked boy dick and note, “And I see you have not a single hair below your head.”

“I'm smooth,” Erik replies, spreading his asscheeks, “as a boy's bottom.” I smirk at his statement and spear inside of him. The boy moans and pants in pleasure, running his fingers through my chest hair. “Fuck my pussy hard,” he begs lewdly. As I thrust in and out, the friction increases. I pull out and quickly apply some lubricant before burying myself back inside the boy. “Not as gentle as you appear, are ya daddy?” I smile and shrug at the boy.

Then I look into his beautiful green eyes and melt. He is so beautiful that I just have too. The boy moans as our lips meet, and my tongue enters his mouth. He clasps his arms around me and I lift him up, walking him to the bedroom, still impaling his tight, hot hole. I carefully lay down on my bed, with the boy sitting on me. I pinch his dark red nickel-sized nipples with my fingers. The boy squeals in delight.

My hands reach around to his juicy bubble butt and squeeze. I encourage him to bounce up and down on my hard cock. I squeeze his hot hot ass as he rides me. I lean up and suck his nipples as I thrust in him, meeting him as he shoves his hot hole down on my hard cock.

“You want me to come right up your boyhole?” I whisper into his ears.

“Yes, daddy,” comes the reply. “Shoot your thick, hot daddy cum right up my pussy! I need it so bad!” He sure screams loud enough. Poor neighbors. I feel that familiar tension and begin to really piston inside of my boy. I look into his eyes and noticed the sparkle is gone; they are glazed over in the moment. I grab hold of one of his nipples with my teeth this time: not a bite, but a nibble. I then grab his delicious ass and take control. I force is up and down my hard cock. The speed increases to a maniacal tempo.

Breathing heavily, I say, “This is it, boy! I'm going to shoot my man cum up inside of you. You've got me hotter than anyone else has ever before. I can't resist that hot boypussy. Oh yes, it feels so good.. here it... cums!” My cock spreads and lengthens far beyond its normal state, and shoots load after load of hot mancum up inside the boy.

“Oh daddy, yes daddy!” the boy screams, as he bounces up and down on my cock roughly, masturbating furiously. “Oh your cum feels, so good... DADDY!” The boy screams as he pumps out four spurts of fresh boy cum.

The boy's face is flushed as his still damp red hair drips. It is no longer spiky, but a mis conglomeration. I place my hands on either side of the boy's face and kiss him lovingly. This kid is really getting to me!

“Daddy,” the boy says quietly, “that was the best ever. I wish you would be my daddy forever.”

“Oh boy,” I say, hugging him tightly. “You've turned my world upside down. And you're one fantastic fuck.” The boy smile gaily at that. “I don't know what to do anymore. I never planned on this.”

“Maybe we found each other at just the right time,” he says, smiling softly.

“We'll just take one day at a time, I guess,” I say, “just like everyone else.” The boy's eyes are simply shining with radiance, like the most brilliant emerald. “But you should stay here until we decide differently.” I kiss the boy's neck softly.

The boy's eyes mist as he says, “Thank you. You're all I want. I know I need a daddy. You may not be the typical looking daddy, but we can take care of each other.” I run my fingers through the boy's hair. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. We will just have to face it and see what happens.

Did you like it? Send me an e-mail and let me know. It didn't end up being pure smut, only 50%! smirk So email me and let me know. Do you want further adventures of these two? It's up to you.