Pretty Boy

by K. M. Neuhold

  We head back through a set of doors and into an exam room that’s so white it’s almost blinding. I feel like I’m stepping inside a spaceship.

  “What brings y’all in today?” she asks politely, fixing the blood pressure thingy around my arm, like she can’t see the giant red and purple splotch covering half my face.

  “I wanna be taller,” I deadpan, earning another bland smile from the nurse and a snorted laugh from Barrett. “You from Texas?” I ask, noticing her accent.

  “Sure am,” she answers, jotting some things down on my chart and taking the cuff off my arm. “All right honey, the doctor’ll be right in for ya.”

  I fidget nervously on the table, crinkling the paper and anxiously watching the door while Barrett picks up a few of the pamphlets on the counter and flips through them.

  I tried to read up about the procedure a bit before scheduling the consultation, but there were a lotta big words and stuff that I couldn’t make heads or tails of, so I ended up giving up. All I could figure was that they blast your skin with lasers until it starts to look right. As long as the doctor knows the rest, that’s good enough for me.

  The door swings open and a man right around Barrett’s age steps into the room. He ain’t anywhere as handsome as my Daddy, but he ain’t bad looking neither with dark hair, kind eyes, and a square jaw that looks like it was straight off a Ken doll.

  “Sterling, right?” he asks, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.

  “Nice to meet ya.” I shake his hand and then point at Barrett. “I hope it’s okay my boyfriend is with me?”

  “Of course,” Dr. Randall says, greeting him with a handshake too. “Now, let’s take a good look at what we’re working with.” He sits down on a rolling stool and slides in close, staring hard at my birthmark while I do my best not to squirm or duck my head. I glance at Barrett and find him watching sternly, like if the doctor does something to upset me, he’ll rip his arms right off. I suppress a giggle, some of my nerves floating away just knowing I got my Daddy right here with me.

  “I love you,” I mouth at him silently, and he smiles, making my belly feel warm and fluttery.

  “All right, so from what I’m seeing, we have a couple of options for various laser treatments, but I have to warn you, due to how dark the pigmentation is, I don’t expect we’ll get anywhere near fully removing it. I think a realistic expectation would be a thirty percent reduction, and over time, it may start to darken again.”

  My stomach sinks so fast I might’ve collapsed if I wasn’t already sitting down. “Thirty percent?” I repeat, sure I heard him wrong.

  He nods. “Could be less, might be more, but I’d rather we keep our expectations realistic. I’ll know more after the first treatment.”

  “You…” I swallow around the large lump filling up my throat. “You can’t get rid of it?”

  “With Nevus Flammeus, or port-wine birthmarks, it’s extremely rare that we can achieve full removal. Typically, only when they’re already fairly light and small to begin with,” he explains, and I bobble my head numbly. I shouldn’t’ve got my hopes up so high, but I did, and now I think I might throw up.

  “All right,” Barrett says, crossing the room and putting an arm around me. “I think we’re done for now,” he declares.

  “You don’t—” the doctor starts to ask something, but Daddy cuts him off as he helps me hop off the table.

  “Thanks for your time. You can send me the bill.” With that, he hustles me out of the room and out to the car. I’m in a fog the whole way, but as soon as the car door clicks closed behind us, tears start to tumble down my cheeks.

  “Oh, Pretty Boy,” he says, sounding almost as sad as I feel. “Shh, come here.” He pulls me onto his lap, the movement of the car jostling us a bit as he gets me situated. Burying my face in the crook of his neck, I let all the silly fantasies I came up with over the past week fall to dust, washed away by my ocean of tears.

  “I’ll never be good enough now.” I clutch his shirt as sobs rack my body.

  “Not good enough? Sterling Davis, you listen to me right god damn now,” he says so sternly it startles a hiccup out of me. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re absolutely perfect? I am so utterly and completely in love with you that I can hardly breathe sometimes. You’re beautiful and sweet and you own my heart completely.”

  “You can’t keep me like this,” I argue miserably. “You’ll always have fundraisers and people tryin’ to get your picture. They’ll stare, and they’ll know I don’t belong.”

  “Let them stare,” he growls. “I don’t give a single fuck about any of them. You do belong. You belong wherever I am, now and always. And you don’t just belong there because of me. You have more beauty and substance both inside and out than a single other person in any room you step into.”

  “You really mean that?” I know it’s not the first time he’s told me, but now that we both know without a doubt that my face won’t ever be no different than this, I need reassurance one more time.

  Barrett takes my face between his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the tears off my cheeks as he looks right into my eyes. “Always,” he says firmly. “Always,” he says again, just in case I didn’t hear him the first time. “I love you. I love every part of you, and I love who you are. If you were born any differently than you are, you might not be the same feisty, sweet, breathtakingly wonderful boy who stole my heart.”

  I sniffle, a new sense of peace settling over me. Maybe he really does mean it. Maybe he loves me even with my birthmark. Maybe he loves me because of my birthmark, or at least because of the person it shaped me into. It’s part of me.

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  He kisses the top of my head and tightens his arms around me to hold me nice and close the rest of the drive. I lean my head against his shoulder and watch as the scenery flies by outside, thinking about how happy I am that my life led me to this exact moment in this exact man’s arms. I reach up and touch my damp cheek, tracing the memorized edges of my birthmark. Barrett’s right; there ain’t nothing wrong with it.

  When we get back to the house, Barrett takes me to the library and pulls me onto his lap, picking up the book that’s sitting on the little table next to his chair and flipping it open.

  “Where were we?” he asks, and I heat up, remembering when he said that exact thing while his dick was in my mouth a few weeks ago. “Ah, yes, the raft going down the Mighty Mississippi.”

  I smile and tuck my head into the crook of his neck, settling in to listen to him read. He holds the book in one hand, his deep, soothing voice washing over me, his free hand drawing absent patterns on my back while he reads.

  Feeling playful and filled with more confidence than I can remember having, I place little kisses all along his jaw while he reads. He plays at ignoring me for the first few minutes while I kiss him, which makes me all the more determined to distract him from his steady pace of reciting words.

  I dart my tongue out and lick his cheek, but he doesn’t crack. I tug his earlobe between my teeth, still nothing. I wiggle on his lap until I feel his cock start to harden under my lap. He keeps reading, but his fingers go still against my back. I may have to pull out the big guns on this one. I slip my hand down and start to tease the button on his pants.

  “You’re about to get in trouble, little rabbit,” he warns, finally acknowledging my shenanigans.

  “You fixin’ to spank me?” I taunt, grinning and playing with his zipper.

  “I just might,” he growls, the sound making my skin heat from head to toe.

  Chapter 24

  Barrett

  I was prepared to handle Sterling’s disappointment, maybe even a major backslide with his confidence after the appointment with the doctor. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to be playfully teasing me while I try to read to him.

  “Is that what you want, Pretty Boy?” I ask, finally setting the book aside and rearranging him on my lap so he’s straddling me.
“You want a spanking?”

  He squirms again, smiling and tugging at my shirt. “I want whatever you want to give me, Daddy.”

  I groan. Good fucking answer. Grabbing the back of his neck, I crash our mouths together. His lips give way to mine, parting to let my tongue in. There’s something more relaxed about him as I slip my hands under his shirt and tease his body while our tongues tangle. It’s like he’s finally let go of a weight that’s been dragging him down. God, I hope he has. I hope he finally sees that my love and his own worth has nothing to do with the coloration of his skin, or any other physical aspect of his body. I love him wholly, and I always will.

  I break the kiss, but keep my grasp on his neck. “You know what I want, little rabbit?”

  “Tell me, Daddy,” he says breathlessly.

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  His eyes go wide, the tips of his ears turning bright red, right along with the rest of his face. “You want me to be in charge?”

  “That’s not what I said.” I stand up, and Sterling wraps his legs around me. I’d be more than happy to fuck right here in the library, but the key to his cock cage is in the bedroom, and we’re going to need that if I’m going to get him inside me.

  I devour his mouth again, nipping and licking his lips, coaxing his tongue out to play with mine and then sucking it until he gasps. He drags his fingers through my hair, kissing me back with so much enthusiasm my cock almost can’t take it.

  I’m painfully hard by the time I step into the bedroom and toss Sterling down onto the bed. It’s been ages since I’ve let anyone fuck me, but my hole is aching to be filled by my boy. He props himself up on his elbows, watching me with that same flushed, excited expression while I grab the lube and key out of my nightstand before climbing onto the bed and kissing him again until we’re both out of breath and my lips are sore.

  Sterling’s fingers anxiously tug at my clothes, and one by one, we strip each other bare. His skin is smooth as silk under my fingers, the dips and lines of his body now familiar. I drag my lips down the column of his throat, kissing each freckle along the way, nuzzling the scars I know the stories behind, and the ones I have yet to learn. I worship every inch of his body as our clothes are flung haphazardly away.

  My heavy cock bounces free as I shed my underwear and toss them aside. I grab the key for Sterling’s cage and unlock it, shuffling between his thighs and laying down. He grows hard slowly while I give the same attention to the insides of his thighs as I did to his throat and upper body.

  I suck his balls into my mouth, and he gasps, arching his back, his cock fully plump now, laying against his belly. It’s not nearly as big as mine, but it will be more than enough to satisfy me. Releasing his balls from my mouth, I kiss my way up to the base of his shaft. It twitches at the first contact. I dart my tongue out to lick along his length.

  “Daddy,” he gasps.

  “I want to suck you, sweetheart. Do you think you can keep from coming?” I ask, placing more open-mouthed kisses up and down his erection, salty droplets of precum clinging to my lips as they roll down his length.

  Sterling clenches his eyes and shakes his head. “Yes, Daddy,” he answers, in direct contradiction to his body language.

  I chuckle. “Why don’t I help.” I shuffle over to pull open the drawer again, taking a second to locate the cock ring I bought for him a few weeks ago and haven’t had a chance to use yet. It’s made of buttery smooth black leather with snaps to fasten it into place.

  He watches me with curious eyes as I return between his spread legs, taking his cock into my hand and putting the cockring into place. The skin darkens and he hardens further thanks to the constriction.

  “Daddy,” he gasps, again, thrusting his hips, his cock bouncing against his belly at the motion. “It’s…oh Lord.”

  “That’s better.” I grin wickedly before descending on his erection and taking it into my mouth.

  Sterling makes a strangled noise as I engulf him, taking him all the way in. He just barely bumps against the back of my throat, sitting heavy on my tongue, his precum flooding my tongue. I suck and drag my tongue along the bulging veins at the same time, coaxing more desperate sounds from him as he tangles his fingers in my hair and humps into my mouth.

  When I pull off and press another kiss to the head of his cock, he thrashes and whines, every ounce of his wanton protest making me harder and hornier for him. I grope for the bottle of lube, clicking the cap open and pouring some onto my fingers.

  Sterling’s eyes drift half open as I reach back and slide my slicked fingers between my ass cheeks, finding my hole and teasing my rim. Unlike when I play with his hole, I don’t waste time on much foreplay before shoving two fingers inside.

  My muscles ache and sting at the invasion, my cock jerking and dripping with precum. I groan, leaning forward to brace my free hand on the pillow beside his head.

  “I wanna touch, Daddy,” he pleads, running his fingers along my wrist, waiting for permission.

  “You want to play with Daddy’s hole to get it all nice and stretched to take your cock?” I ask in a deep, gravelly voice.

  “Yes,” he moans, his fingers joining mine.

  He timidly touches my rim, feeling where my fingers are disappearing over and over as I fuck myself open. He makes another fluttery, lustful sound, his hips twitching helplessly again.

  “Put your finger inside.”

  He whimpers, pushing a little harder with his finger until it starts to ease inside next to my own.

  “Oh my God,” he pants. “You’re so hot, and tight, and…ungh…”

  “You want your sweet cock in there, Pretty Boy?” I tempt, and he nods his head rapidly.

  “Please, please, please.”

  I slip my fingers out and grab the lube again, this time pouring it directly onto his cock. When I wrap my hand around him to spread the lube around, he starts to tremble. He’s not going to last long, even with the cock ring on. That’s okay, I’m all in favor of a sprint instead of a marathon tonight.

  I maneuver myself into place, straddling his hips and then reaching back to grab his cock to line it up with my hole.

  Sterling fists the sheets, trying desperately to hold still and failing miserably. It takes me a couple of tries to get him notched against my hole thanks to his squirming. When I finally do, I ease down, leaning forward to kiss him at the same time.

  His cock stretches me just right as I take him inside, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth at the same time. He lets go of the sheets and digs his fingers into my arms instead, his hips jerking again, shoving his cock all the way inside. He’s just the right length to hit my prostate head on, making my eyes roll back and electricity dance along my skin.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” I groan. “You’re so perfect. So Pretty. So sweet. All mine.” I pant praises as I bounce up and down on his cock, making sure to use it to hit that sweet spot each time, pegging it over and over until precum is pouring from my slit.

  My hands end up braced on either side of his head, my fists twisting the pillows as I grunt and groan with each thrust.

  I can feel him swelling inside me, his whole body trembling as he tries to hold back his orgasm. I watch as his blush deepens, his eyes clouding with pleasure. He digs his fingers into my arms so hard I’m sure they’ll bruise as I bounce faster, fucking myself with his cock until he lets out a strangled cry, arching up against me.

  I throw my head back and shout, the feeling of his cock pulsing inside me, his cum filling me up, sending me over the edge. I grind myself down hard one more time as my orgasm crashes over me, my cum painting Sterling’s belly and chest, a few strands shooting so far they land on his throat. It’s filthy and beautiful and so fucking perfect. Just like my boy.

  I find his lips again, kissing him deep and hard as we writhe together, lost in our shared pleasure.

  I rock against him long after my orgasm fades, reluctant to give up the deep ache of his cock buried inside me or the connec
tion between our bodies. But eventually his cock softens and slips out, so I climb off of him, unfastening the cock ring and tossing it aside, just like our discarded clothes.

  I pull my boy into my arms, and he rests his head against my chest.

  “I love you, Pretty Boy.” I kiss the top of his head, and he tries to snuggle even closer, like he’d crawl inside me if he could.

  “I love you,” he whispers back.

  Chapter‌ ‌25

  Sterling

  “You look amazing,” Barrett says, tilting my head up and pressing a kiss to my lips after finishing with my bowtie.

  I smile against his lips, grabbing for his lapels and pushing onto my tiptoes before he can get away too quick.

  “I got you somethin’,” I tell him when we break the kiss.

  His eyebrows go up. “You got me something?”

  I nod, turning to the dresser tucked in the corner and opening the bottom drawer. I figured he’d never bother to look down there. “It ain’t nothin’ fancy like you got for me,” I warn, handing over the velvety box.

  Barrett takes it from me, looking stunned even before he opens it. As soon as he does, his shock turns to more of a mushy, affectionate expression. “They’re little book shaped cufflinks.” He strokes a finger gently over one of them.

  “They weren’t expensive.” I don’t want him to get no ideas about me spending all kinds a money. I saved up a couple paychecks, that was all. Ain’t like I got nothing else to do with them since he insists on paying for every-dang-thing.

  “I love them.” He slips them into the holes on his sleeves and kisses me again.

  “I love you,” I counter, grinning again.

  Getting ready for this fundraiser feels like a whole life away from the last one he took me to. I’ve been working with Nolan for weeks to get this all set up so we can get as many donations as possible for Sterling’s Books, which Em and Barrett agreed should be the name of the bookmobiles, no matter how much I protested.