Exclusive Excerpt from Lost and Found
by Quin Perin
“So, missed me?” Carter blurted out as he spread his legs and arms on the couch, arching his back. He was naked, and I was still trying to get my breathing under control. It felt like I’d just finished a marathon, but Carter was hardly bothered.
Fucking kid. Just another reminder that he was too young for me.
“Missed you?” I scoffed, sitting upright and soon regretting the decision. My head spun. And I made a mental note I was too old to fuck him standing up, then doggy style and then over the back of the couch. It’d been a bit much, although I’d loved every second of it.
Carter was insatiable. And he didn’t care whether he destroyed me or not.
“Yeah.” This time, his voice turned softer, dreamy almost. He turned his head, toes wiggling. For a moment, he looked dead serious until that teasing grin split his face.
Truth be told, between you and me, I did miss his crazy hunger for me.
“You’re killing me, boy,” I said, but I hardly meant it. My doctor had pointed out I was in good shape. Thanks to trying to keep up with Carter, I ate healthier, worked out regularly and had something to look forward to. Our kinky calls as well as the live action every few months.
“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, old man,” he teased and then practically jumped to his feet. Oh God, I wanted to cry and simultaneously tap into his secret energy stash. No more.
“Let’s go out.”
“No.” But it didn’t seem like he wanted to listen. Carter was already collecting his clothes from the floor and slipping on his briefs.
“Let’s have a drink. I am twenty-one now. I can drink!” He sounded cheerful. He was half my age. Half. My. Age. Reality crashed into me again.
I cringed. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t sulk.” Slipping on a sock, Carter bounced on one foot and then hunted down the other one. Our Daddy/boy play didn’t weave its way throughout all of our interactions, so him speaking to me like that wasn’t unusual. I just let it be. And quite frankly, I enjoyed his carefree, youthful behavior.
“Under the chair.” I pointed at the crumpled sock and then rubbed my hands over my face. “And, no, Carter, we are not going out.”
“Why?”
“People could—”
“…see us?” Carter finished, bluntly staring at me. He didn’t seem to care. He didn’t see the problem. But it was a huge fucking problem. If his parents saw us, or someone who knew them, him. God, the thought of it made my stomach knot and twist.
“Yeah, no, we are not going out.”
“Dave.” Suddenly, there wasn’t any playful note in his tone. Serious, so damn serious and grown up, he stared down at me on the sofa as though he was about to scold me. “Daddy.”
“Playtime is over.”
