Filthy Daddy

“He does. He’s strong. And those eyes look just like his grandfather.”

I glance their way for a second and take in the scene around me. As strange as it is, with all these virtual strangers here, I know I’m surrounded by people who will love and care for my little boy.

“We have a baby, Tate.”

“We do. You were amazing. He’s looking really good too.”

“Sorry about your hand.”

“It’ll heal,” he tells me, laughing.

“Give him to me, Mom,” I beg.

“Here you go. He’s beautiful.” Mom steps over to me with the little one and places him on my chest.

“Oh my God.” I admire every feature on his tiny face. His eyes are shut tight, his cute little nose wrinkles a bit, his lips are so precious. And goodness he has a small cleft on his chin, just like Tate whenever he does a close shave. “Hi, baby. Look at you. This is our boy, Tate.”

“It is. He’s perfect.”

“He is.”

“Do you want to hold him?” Mom asks Tate.

“Hell yeah. I was just waiting my turn. You know, she did just stretch her vag to kingdom come to get him here… Crap. Sorry Mrs. Davenport… I figure she should have first dibs on seeing what popped out.”

“Not what, honey. Who. Who popped out.”

“Yes, he’s a cutie.”

Mom picks the baby off of my chest and carefully swaddles him and puts him in Tate’s arms. I tilt my head to see Tate holding his baby for the first time. He’s in awe. It makes my heart wrench to see them together like that. Dad and son. Just as I’d hoped, they look amazing together. Like a real family. Something Tate wanted for as long as I’d known him.

“Yes,” he said softly. “He looks just like me.”

“He kinda does,” I agree.

Tate leans over to kiss his newborn. “He does. And I’m not sure I’ll be letting him go anytime soon.”

Chapter 31

Tate

Eight Months Later

“It feels fucking good when you wake me up like that, doll,” I groan at the feel of Molly’s hand on my cock.

She’s hardly touched me and my dick springs to life. I’ve been longing for her touch, but haven’t said much with all the hours we both work. Molly has a part-time nursing gig at the hospital where her mother works. She’ll eventually go full time, but for now, she’s at home with our son, Aiden, during the day. She drops him off at her mother’s house three nights a week, and I pick him up there whenever I get off early.

The rest of the time, we’re together and inseparable.

“I’ve been horny as hell since Aiden stopped breastfeeding all of a sudden,” she whispers.

“Kid’s loss is my gain,” I answer, kissing her free hand. “Wait, hold on.” I tilt my head and listen to both the baby monitor on the bedroom chest of drawers, and for sounds behind our closed door. “Sounds like he’s still asleep.”

Tugging her nightshirt over her body, she springs up from her side of the bed and climbs on top of me. “We should hurry. You know he’s figured out how to get out of the crib a few times now. Every time he’s this quiet, I can’t help but worry. But I need you inside me so bad this morning.”

I look up at my old lady, brushing her jet-black hair out of her face and admire her smile. I run my hands over the rise of her exposed breasts. They’re so ready for me to take them into my mouth, one by one. “Fuck, just ride me, woman.”

Molly lifts my t-shirt up my chest and over my head. She traces delicate fingers over my shoulders and down my arms. Her hands skim along the contours of my chest and stomach. Then she ducks her head to me, briefly kissing my chest before moving to my neck, kissing and nipping it as my dick gets harder than slate. I need to feel her tight, wet pussy clench around my shaft again. She lifts up her ass and grips my shaft, pressing the thick tip at her opening. I can’t wait any longer and neither can she. Gripping her hips, I pull her down hard on my dick, burying deep inside of her.

“Oh, God. That feels so fucking good,” she moans. She rests her hands on my shoulders, her fingernails digging into my skin as she rolls her hips. And I do it again.