single dad's club (peterick/trohley/brallon/rikey/frerard)

12

// smut warning

Patrick, I soon find out, is perfect. He's warm and cuddly, his kisses are really good, and he woke me up this morning with breakfast in bed.

"You're so cute, oh my God." He says when I rub my eyes and look at him sleepily. He puts the tray on my lap and sits next to me, lying back.

I lean over and kiss him carefully so I don't spill my food. He smiles when I pull away.

"How'd you know French toast was my favourite?" I ask when I finish my first bite. It's heaven.

"Bronx." He answers, scooting closer to me. "How's it taste?"

I smile at him and grab the back of his head, pulling him in to kiss me. It goes farther than I thought it would. He grabs the tray and sets it on my bedside table and then pulls me on top of him, all without breaking the kiss.

He pulls away to say, "I really want to fuck you, but, you know, I want it to mean more."

"I don't think I can get fucked by you and not feel anything. You already told me you loved me, and I think I'm more than halfway there myself." I say. Patrick smiles at me then and kisses me again.

We just kiss for a while, his hands roaming my body. They go from my face to my hair to my ass, where they squeeze extremely hard. He pulls at the hem of my shirt, and I raise my arms for him to pull it over my head.

It seems like he doesn't want to stop kissing me long enough to get it off. So he just rucks it up to where it's trapped under my armpits. I break the kiss, however, in order to pull my shirt over my head.

He stills when I do, and I begin to panic. What did I do? He flips us over to where he's on top and goes to fucking town. He starts rolling his hips at a really fast pace and doesn't stop.

He licks across my tattoo at the top of my chest as he moves down. "Fucking washboard abs. I knew it."

He reaches my waistband and licks across there, too, before he pulls my boxers down. He takes his sweet time getting them all the way down until I make a noise of impatience.

"Hurry the fuck up, you asshole." I groan, and he leans his head down to rest against my hip and just laughs. "What's so funny?"

"You did this last time too." Patrick says. "You're so impatient to get me inside of you." He leans up to pull his shirt off. "You want me to fuck you hard, I know you do. Want me to wreck you, yeah?"

"Please, fuck." I moan out when he pulls his pants and boxers down at the same time.

"Such a little slut. A pretty little slut. Get yourself ready for me." Patrick says. He sits back, literally naked, and hands me a bottle of lube. "C'mon, baby."

I haven't done this since I was in college. But I also want to make Patrick happy. He probably thinks all of the scars I have are ugly, so I need to do this for him.

Just as I'm about to drizzle some on my fingers, he stops me. "What's wrong, baby? Do you not want this?"

"I want this. I need this." I rush out. "But I just wish I didn't have all of these ugly scars. They're probably turning you off." Patrick's face softens at that.

"No, baby." He says. He grabs the bottle of lube and makes me lie back down. "Look at me. I knew that you had a kid when I came into this relationship. He's my fucking kid, Pete. Just the thought of you walking around for nine months with a piece of both you and me in your stomach is heartwarming. You're beautiful, alright?"

I nod and drop my head. Patrick makes a noise and then moves back to my stomach where he finds every scar.

"Fucking pretty. So damn hot." He says as he kisses them gently. "You carried my fucking kid for nine months, and you think I'm gonna be turned off by some fucking scars?"

He opens the bottle of lube and squirts some on his fingers. One of his fingers circles around my hole, rubbing gently before just pushing in slightly. I groan.

Patrick continues to inch it in until he's in all the way and pulls out and pushes back in. Somewhere along the way, he adds two more fingers to the mix until he's finger-fucking me, and I'm writhing underneath him.

"I'm ready, I'm ready." I say impatiently. He shakes his head.

"Pete, you really aren't." He says hesitantly, but I nod anyways, pushing him back.

"I am, please." I moan out. He pulls his fingers away reluctantly.

"Please tell me you have some condoms." Patrick says. "As much as I love you, we're too old to have more kids."

"Same drawer you got the lube from." I say. He reaches in and pulls a condom out.

He opens the packet and rolls it on, slicking himself up before he lines up. "I didn't stretch you enough, Pete." He trails off. I go to argue, but the first snap of his hips brings an unexplainable mix of pain and pleasure.

It's been so fucking long since the last time I did this. And Patrick is so fucking good at it. He continues to snap his hips hard. Really hard.

"Fuck, Patrick, you're so damn hot." I moan out. He shakes his head, hair matted down from the sweat rolling down his cheeks.

"Me? You're writhing underneath me right now, begging for me to go harder. That's hot as fuck." He says. He changes the angle and somehow goes harder. When he hits my prostate, I'm almost shaking from the pleasure.

I come untouched, and he smiles at that, thrusting two more times before he comes into the condom. He slides out of me, and I wince when he gets all the way out. He ties the condom up and throws it in the trash can.

"Eat later." He says, kissing me gently. He lies basically on top of me like he did last night. I smile at him as I feel myself drift off to sleep.