BAD DADDY

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Trying Kink, Part One

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BY CS JOYCE

Table of Contents

Title Page

Bad Daddy (Trying Kink, #1)

Blurb

Author’s Notes

Dedication

PART I

Summer Jobbing

Public Displays

Want more of Sonny and Ali?

GOOD BOY | Trying Kink, Part Two | Blurb

CONNECT

BOOKS BY CS JOYCE

Dark Reserves Series

The Individualists Series

Trying Kink Serial

ABOUT

Copyright ©2019 by CS JOYCE

Cover Design: CS Joyce

Editing: The Penny Drops

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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This book contains material that is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content and adult situations.

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Blurb

What if you wanted to be watched? Knowing that someone was there, in the shadows watching... wanting... breathless... a voyeur in the dark.

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I’m a good boy. I do well in school and after this summer my plan was to start college and escape my boring life. All I had to do was just get through the holidays working at the auto shop.

But that was before Sonny showed up. Leather-wearing, danger-loving, Sonny. I’m obsessed. The way his hands move, caressing and gliding over tools and car parts; how his thighs straddle his motorbike as it roars into the shop each morning; and how he looks at me—because Sonny sees right through me, burning me with his raw heat.

I was prepared to spend a summer pining after him. Like most eighteen-year olds do over a crush. But then he had to go and send me that link. The one that had me staring, in shock, as I watched him...

How can I forget what I’ve seen? And how do I fight this desire within me—the one that craves a bad Daddy?

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Bad Daddy is Part One in the Trying Kink serial. If you like Daddy kink, exhibitionism, and voyeurism, then this short story is for you.

Author’s Notes

Serial

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This story takes the form of a serial. Trying Kink is written in parts and the first part, Bad Daddy, was originally released as part of a Giveaway. Each part follows the story of Ali and Sonny and their Daddy/boy relationship. 

Each part will be available on Amazon and Kindle unlimited.

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Irish-isms

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I’m an Irish writer, living in the land of storytellers and poets. I have therefore chosen to write this serial true to my heritage—with Irish turns of phrase, colloquialisms, popular expressions, spellings and vernacular.

These are intentional and are not typos or editing mistakes, but a reflection of our sometimes odd and colourful use of language. (Not to be confused with any of those pesky errors that sometimes can sneak past a good proofread. If you see any of those, feel free to let me know!)

I love language and our unique way of using it and I hope you enjoy it just as much.

Sláinte agus go raibh maith agat.

(Cheers and thank you)

Carrie

Dedication

For Tina, my lovely friend.

Here’s your sexy biker.

Your very own leather Daddy.

PART I

Summer Jobbing

I’m a mess. A total disaster. What is wrong with me?

I swallowed hard and blinked, unable to drag my gaze away from the soft, plump lips I’d been fixating on since I started my summer job the day before. I’d arrived at Mark’s Auto Garage on Monday, holding the cheese sandwich my mom had made me, and not a notion what the hell I was letting myself in for.

I played chess, took piano all through school and spoke four languages. I knew my own strengths and academia was the main one. You know what I wasn’t good at? Anything physical or what my stepdad called ‘manly’. He was a dick.

It was my stepdad who had arranged this summer job for me. Apparently, he was doing me a favour and toughening me up. Eh, thanks but no thanks asshole. But I couldn’t say that and instead I’d had to turn up to what was set to be the longest six weeks of my life.

But it hadn’t seemed all that bad once he had walked in. I’d heard him before I saw him, the purr of engine preceding his entrance as I’d stood out front on Monday morning waiting to be let in.

The old guy, Mark—I assumed he was the namesake owner—had nodded toward the shiny black two-wheeler and simply said—"That’s Thorsson. You answer to him while you’re working here. I aint got time to be showing you stuff.”

Thorsson...like...the God Thor? Or what? But as he pulled off his black helmet, I realized he was more than able to live up to his name.

Wow. Just, wow.

I had stared, watching him peel off the leather jacket, exposing a fitted grey t-shirt, torn and stained as hell. It clung to his body as though it was spray-painted on. Much like how the frayed jeans clung to his ass. The faint smell of oil and leather did something to me, not to mention his entire presence.

Thorsson was the epitome of bad guy. The sort that you’d do crazy shit with, knowing you’d regret it but not giving a damn. Because, you already knew it would be worth it...assuming you lived to tell the tale.

“Do I call you Thorsson? Or Thor?” I had asked, as I steadied my voice, trying to sound more confident than my eighteen years.

“Neither. Call me Sonny. See that pile of car matts over there? They all need to be cleaned and stacked. You do that. If you need something, don’t bother me. Unless you’re on fire or something.”

That was all he’d said to me that entire first day, as he’d tinkered around with cars, fixing engines and changing tyres as I worked quietly in the corner.

That was also the start of it; the obsession, I mean. Because that’s what I was calling it by Tuesday morning. I didn’t know what else to name it—this weird and intense longing I had for him—so obsession would have to do for now.

Monday had been a blur, following him around, listening to Mark meet customers and take orders, and watching, always watching, as Sonny worked steadily. He seemed to have a way of holding things that was practically obscene.

How he gripped his hands around a spanner, knuckles white as he tried to undo a wheel nut. The way he lifted tyres, holding them up against his body. God, what I wouldn’t give to be a tyre. Yeah, it was getting real fucking weird up in my head. But I couldn’t help it.

The grease he used to recondition a wheel part was torturous. The sound, the slick noise, the wetness of it, as he slid his fingers around the ridge, loosening and greasing the inside of the ring.

Jesus-fucking-Christ.

Sonny wasn’t just garnering my attention. I noticed that Tuesday as each female customer promptly flirted with him. I’d watched in awe as he pursed those lips together, plump mouth in a teasing smile. His hair was black and ruffled and now it seemed he couldn’t stop touching it, raking his fingers through it as the female customers batted their eyelashes.

I fucking hated it. How they touched him, the way he smiled and gave them cheeky grins. He was playing with them; toying and it was torture. Because I wanted him to look at me like that.

And now, on Tuesday afternoon, I was staring like a maniac at this man’s lips. A slick sheen appearing as he licked them. Jesus it was too much. If I could bring myself to look away, I would have, but I just couldn’t.

“Wrench.”

“Huh?” I jerked upright, nearly toppling off the tower of tyres I was resting on.

His voice was gravelly and seemed to have the ability to dive straight into my soul and snake down to my cock.

“Large metal thing, over by the other tools. Christ, what are they teaching kids these days?”

I wasn’t a kid, I was eighteen. An adult according to my stepdad, now that I was finished school for the summer. Maybe I wasn’t old enough to drink but I was old enough to do other stuff, important stuff. Like fuck and get fucked. Because that was all that seemed to be on my mind. ALL DAY LONG.

“Here, sorry,” I mumbled handing the wrench down to his extended hand. The sleeves of his rolled-up work shirt exposed his skin, streaked with oil and the scent made me sigh. It was a deep, base arousing, carnal evoking, male scent. I wanted to crawl under the bonnet of the car he was currently wedging beneath and drag my mouth along his skin.

“Grab me that pan, the oil’s leaking.”

I reached over, taking a few steps and somehow stood on my own feet. Dammit, I was so clumsy. I fell at speed, landing with a large clatter on the ground as I dragged the metal dish down with me.

The sound of wheels sliding out and the intense scent of masculine godliness made me swallow hard.

“What the hell you playing at?” He was leaning over me, piercing eyes creased in the corner, smudges of oil on his dark skin as he smirked, clearly bemused by my latest fuckup that day. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted to come so bad, but I was worried it might happen right now, spontaneously, just being this close to him.

“I...eh...sorry.”

“You say that a lot, kiddo. How about you apologize less and actually help me?” He stretched out his hand and tugged me into a sitting position, as he hunkered down next to me. “You hurt?”

I shook my head and chewed on my lip. He was so confident, so incredibly virile. Everything I wished I was. I’d always been goofy, too tall for my own body, and I’d tripped and stumbled my way through school earning myself the nickname of ‘Accident Ali’.

“I’m a bit of a klutz.”

“You don’t say?” He smiled, the dingy garage lighting up. Okay, it didn’t light up, but holy shit his smile was off the charts. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, but I didn’t care. All I knew was I wanted to be around Sonny. Craved it.

See? I’m obsessed.

I was braver on day three. I’d woken up early, before sunrise, and slid my hands under the warm sheets. I imagined his hand, slick and gripping me, and I stifled a moan as I tightened my grip on my cock, sliding gently, stroking in long easy strokes until I was jacking off furiously.

I’d showered, another quick hand job, and watched in a daze as the water pooled around my feet, breathless, as my cum slid down the shower wall and seemed to dance in swirls before disappearing down the drain.

That would do it. I needed something to hold me over and get me through Wednesday. Only I’d been wrong. The purr of engine set my senses on fire. When the door swung open and he strode in, all cocky and sexual, I knew I’d need a lunchtime fix.

“How’d you get the name Thorsson? It’s unusual,” I said, as we stirred sugar into milky tea in the kitchen on our eleven-a.m. tea break.

“My parents. They had a sense of humor.” He glanced up, those lips fucking killing me, and I nodded. Damn, that was all I had. I needed to think of another question.

Only words were hard around him. Damn, everything was hard around him. I tapped the side of my stained mug, scanning the grimy garage kitchen and wondering how the hell I’d make a sentence with words and verbs and other stuff.

His voice made me jump, the raspy edge to it that hit my cock square and centre.

“You’ve hardly got a normal name yourself. Alistair.” He drew out my name, lengthening it, making it sound like so much more than just a name. Then he laughed, a long breathy sound and I bit my lower lip, a shudder threatening to escape.

“Alistair’s a normal name. And people call me Ali.” Damn, my voice sounded so small. Boyish.

Sonny looked over and smiled, and oh God, that smile did things to me. “I was teasing you, kiddo. It’s a nice name.”

“Oh...” I had no more words and sipped my tea quietly.

It was then, in that crappy kitchen that I’d decided to spend the rest of my work experience trying hard each day to talk to him. What did I expect to happen? Absolutely nothing. He was a real man, a dark, slightly scary guy and I was a boy. Not to mention that a guy like him had to be straight. Though, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he would be with a man—he looked like he liked to fuck, and he’d fuck anything...anyone. Me? No, no, no. Definitely not.

Talking to him was going to have to be enough. I knew it was all leading to nowhere, but the idea of it seemed to satiate a need within me to have contact with him.

Earlier in the day I’d found out that Sonny was a mechanic, not by trade, but by accident. He’d really wanted to be a motocross racer; he’d said he might still do it but at thirty he was keeping his options open.

I was going to college after the summer to study history and Greek civilisation. Sonny seemed wild and exhilarating in comparison and his crazy ambitions only added to his allure.

By lunchtime I’d realized my early morning releases had ceased working. I couldn’t stop the tent that persisted in my work overalls. Fuck, I needed to fix that.

The garage had one pokey toilet, the sink stained from the dripping water and the bare lightbulb casting a harsh light. I stood still, leaning over a little, my pants undone as I fisted my cock. I’d propped my phone up on the grubby sink, balancing it against the broken tile and watching the man on screen suck and slurp as though he was eating an ice-cream.

I don’t know why I put it on; the thought of Sonny would have been enough to get me off. But I almost wanted something else to focus on. It seemed nasty to jack off when he was just outside. Somehow watching porn made it all more acceptable.

My breath hitched as I continued pumping my fist, the pleasure rising and my balls tingling. God, I needed to come so bad. And I would have, at any second, if the fucking door hadn’t swung open, knocking me sideways until I stumbled and slid down between the toilet and the wall. My hand was trapped, my cock lying out for all to see and my phone—oh Jesus—my phone had tumbled and was lying face up right at his feet.

The look on Sonny’s face...Fuck. I’d never forget it. It was one of shock and then something changed in his eyes as he stared at the screen and glanced over at me. There was a heat in those dark eyes. A realization and something else I didn’t recognize.

But I couldn’t think about that right then. All I could do was pray for an earthquake or for aliens to abduct me. Anything to remove me from the shameful hole I was lying in.

I waited for him to laugh, to tease me, call out to Mark, something. But instead he remained silent, picking up the phone and placing it gently on the sink before turning to me and taking my elbow. He was strong, much stronger than me, and he hauled me back to my feet.

“You going to put that away? Or you wanting to finish what you started?” That was all he said, those dark eyes darting down to my exposed cock and then back to me.

Holy shit.

Then he turned and left, calling back to me- “The lock on the door doesn’t work, FYI”.

That was my Wednesday.

Thursday morning, I feigned illness. There was absolutely no way I was going back to the garage after yesterday. But my stepdad was having none of it.

“Will ya get up out of that bed, and fucking get to work. I didn’t arrange this for you to embarrass me.”

It’s a bit late for that, I thought to myself.

My mother’s timid voice pleaded for him to ‘go easy’ on me. She never was any good at standing up for herself, let alone anyone else. She’d married a bully and he’d never change.

Reluctantly I dressed, but breakfast was out of the question. I was certain I’d throw up if I ate anything. As if forcing me to go wasn’t enough, the old bastard drove me to the garage early.

“Don’t fuck this up. It’s about time you did some manual work. Always with your head in those books.”

I jumped out, knowing from experience not to argue with him and felt my stomach twist when I saw the shiny motorbike.

He’s early. He’s never early.

Granted I’d only been working there for three days, but he’d been late every day. But of course, Sonny would be early the day after I had humiliated myself.

Shame coursed through me as I relived that moment for the hundredth time. My cheeks burned, and I walked slowly towards the metal garage door, dragging my feet and hoping for an intervention. A meteorite? A tornado? Something to just end it all before I had to face him.

He was leaning against a thing of beauty and I stood there, in the dim garage light and watched for a second. It was a deep cherry red, with chrome faring and huge tyres. Sonny was on his knees next to it, holding a blue cloth and polishing it in slow meticulous circles.

His hand followed the curves of the bike, leaving a glint of chrome and power in its wake. What I wouldn’t do to be that bike, to have Sonny’s hands smooth across my body like that. So sensual. So sexual.

“You gonna just stand there or you want to help?”

I jumped, and then nodded.

“Hand me that spanner,” he pointed behind him, still facing the bike and I scoured the ground trying to decipher what he wanted. Grabbing the tool, I squeaked out a ‘here’ and he reached behind him, without turning.

Only instead of taking the tool, his fingers coiled around my hand instead.  I swear to God; it was like his hand was wrapped around my dick. The sensation of his fingers holding me, the strength and excitement of that strange touch—it was incredible and every part of me responded. I didn’t know what the hell to do as I felt myself harden, my cock growing until it was throbbing.

As quickly as he’d touched me, he let go and tugged the spanner from my hand. But I could feel it still, the heat and roughness of his touch. Sonny’s hand on my own skin was like nothing I’d ever experienced.

“I won’t tell anybody.” Sonny’s voice was a growl and I swallowed hard.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and my face burned hot with embarrassment and something else. Desire?

“You gay? Or you just like getting off to dudes fucking?”

His question hit me like a punch to the gut and I stammered, saying ‘eh’ about twenty times before he stood up, turned around and cocked his head to the side. Staring at me. Examining me.

Challenging me.

I nodded, incapable of making words. My breath was so fast it seemed to echo around the garage.

“Which?” Sonny licked his lips and I wanted to run away. Or forward. I just wanted something.

“The first. I’m gay.” There, I’d explained and that was the end of it. Only it wasn’t.

“Well you should watch better porn than that. I’ll send you a link later.”

What the absolute fuck?

The garage door swung open, the metal banging and hurting my ears and Mark glared at us. “Fix that on your own time, Thorsson. I’ve a pickup out front that needs looking at.”

Sonny turned, leaving the shiny bike where it was and headed out front. And leaving me in a state.

His words swam in my head. ‘I’ll send you a link later’. A link to what? Porn? Gay porn?

It was four p.m. by the time I finished up sorting the bolts and washers into the large mechanic drawer thingy. It was clear that Mark had nothing for me to do, and Sonny was keeping me busy with menial tasks. But I didn’t care. It passed the time and gave me some space to figure things out.

I watched him all day, learning things about him. Like how he always tucked a cloth in his back pocket. Or the way he ran his hand through his hair, leaving oil marks on his forehead. Or how his left knee seemed to ache him when he knelt for too long. That one had given me a chance to talk to him.

“Your knee, it hurts?” Yeah, sentences were still a bit of a challenge.

“Mm. Old injury, came off a bike about six years ago and it’s never been right since.”

“I’d be too scared to ride a motorbike.”

That seemed to interest him, and he’d smirked as he sized me up. “You should try it some time. You might surprise yourself. You look like you could do with a good ride.”

So, yeah. That was the exact moment that I knew I’d have to quit this job. The ache in my cock caused me to clench my eyes closed.

You look like you could do with a good ride...Jesus, did he know what he was saying to me? Did he realize how that sounded?

Three hours later I was back home, eating a slightly burnt shepherd’s pie when my phone buzzed, and I saw that Sonny had messaged me. I’d saved his name in my phone as ‘Thor’. It seemed silly but it made sense. Because to me, Sonny was a fucking God. A bad one, at that. One that would probably ruin you and I liked that idea so much it scared me.

I was a good boy.

And he was bad.

But...I wanted to be ruined.

“Turn that fucking thing off. What did I tell ya about phones at the dinner table?” The cutlery clattered as my stepdad slammed his fist down on the wood. Mom jumped and looked down at her dinnerplate.

“Sorry, it’s a text. I’ll put it on silent,” I said, and I muted the phone and slid it under my ass cheek. That probably hadn’t been a great idea, because another text came through and the vibration had me biting on my lip.

After dinner I slipped away to my room and stared at my phone as though it might bite me.

Thor: NSFW. Don’t open around people.

There was another message with a website link, and I smiled.

Me: What’s NSFW?

The phone buzzed again.

Thor: Where you been living, kiddo? NSFW= Not safe for work.

Thor: so maybe don’t watch this one on your lunch break tomorrow.

Heat flashed up my neck, crawling its way to my cheeks. I’d never get over the shame of being caught but something about it also turned me on. The way he had looked at me, and how he hadn’t judged me.

I grabbed my earphones from the floor and hovered over the link. It was probably straight porn. I mean, someone like Sonny wouldn’t have gay porn, right?

I double checked to make sure the earphones were plugged in properly and then hit play. It was a link directly to a private webpage: Bad-Daddy_biker. I grinned at the name and then rolled my eyes as the video zoomed in on a beautiful motorbike.

He’d been fucking with me. That bastard. Though to Sonny, a bike probably was porn. I settled back against the headboard and watched as the camera panned around the sleek bike, the light glinting in the chrome and highlighting the beauty of the machine.

And then, out of nowhere, stepped a man. He was young, about my age, maybe a little older, and wearing absolutely fucking nothing.

Okaaaay, this is interesting.

He strode gracefully towards the bike, all smooth skin and plump round ass and then leaned across the saddle. I licked my lips and moved my face closer to the screen. And then a voice spoke, low and husky, a rawness to it.

And it whispered to that boy, or maybe to me... “Be a good boy for Daddy. Show me how good you can be.”

I shoved my hand down my sweatpants, pressing my palm against the erection that was straining and begging to be freed. Time stopped and my mouth gaped open as the boy, this young man, spread his cheeks apart, exposing himself to me, to the world.

Holy fucking shit.

My cock leaked and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Sonny was right. This was good porn. Way better than the crap I’d been watching.

The young man looked over his shoulder and smirked, a teasing smile, and then the camera frame was obscured by a dark figure. I panicked for a second, but the image reappeared as the figure walked forward, prowling toward the young man.

He was tall, dressed in leather from head to toe and hot as fuck. His back remained to the camera, but he spun the young man around, pulling his thighs apart and lifting his ass so he was laying on his back on the bike.

“Please Daddy, can I?” the young man’s voice was hoarse.

I could see the other man nod and then the young man reached up, unzipping the leather jacket to expose beautiful tanned and tattooed flesh.

I stroked myself, now panting and wanting this to never end. It was so hot. The boy settled back on the motorbike as the other man straddled it, the leather stretching across his strong thighs and from the side he looked vaguely familiar...sort of like...

I swear to god it was like he was staring through the lens, right down to me, as he smirked and freed his own cock. I coughed, choking on my own breath as Sonny’s sexy mouth curved into a smile and he wrapped his hand around the young man’s dick.

I couldn’t believe what I was watching. Was this porn? Was it a personal sex tape? Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck.

I reached for the lube in the locker drawer and then took hold of myself again, pumping my fist in time with Sonny on the screen. I imagined it was his hand on me, those strong, rough fingers tight around the base and then sliding up to trace his thumb across the head. And then I imagined I was that boy, laying there before him, begging him...

Precum dripped from my cock and I moaned, louder than I should have, but I couldn’t help it. The camera zoomed closer and suddenly the boy was coming, Sonny licking wet shiny stripes across his nipples as he jacked him off.

I let out a shout, then slapped my free hand over my mouth as hot streams of cum spilt over my fist. Panting, I looked at the screen, and to those dark eyes piercing into me.

“Do you want to be a good boy?” Sonny asked the camera. “Or do you need a bad Daddy to corrupt you?”

I shuddered, the pleasure searing through my nerves and the question ricocheting around my head.

Yes, I whispered. I want to be corrupted.

Public Displays

I figured I had two choices.

Delete the link and pretend I never watched it. Then ignore Sonny for the rest of my work experience, or

Find out there and then why the hell he sent me that link.

I was eighteen, of course I was going with the second option. I typed out the message—Can we talk? — and hit send. I needed answers because I still wasn’t sure what I’d even watched. Seconds later the beep made me jump and I froze as I read Sonny’s reply.

Thor: What’s your address. I’ll swing by.

What? No, no, no. That wasn’t a good idea at all. I could already picture my stepdad’s face if Sonny turned up at our house. Hell no.

Me: My parents don’t like visitors.

Thor: Where then?

I thought about it for a second. Did I really want to be alone with him, especially after what I’d just watched?

I shivered, remembering the way he’d looked straight at the camera, his fist stroking that guy and the look in his eyes...

Me: There’s a public tennis court at the end of my street. We can meet there.

Thor: Cool

I stared at the message, giddy with nerves and absolute fear. What the hell was I doing? They’d warned us about this sort of thing in school. Don’t meet up in secret with strangers; the internet is full of predators; don’t message with people you don’t know; always tell someone where you’re going; always meet in a public place.

And now, what was I doing? Going to meet in secret with a leather-wearing, motorcycle-riding, sexual exhibitionist. Apparently, all those warnings had been wasted on me.

I sent him the address and then paced around my bedroom as I practiced how I’d act when Sonny showed up. What would I say to him? Would he explain what that video was?

Stopping in front of the mirror, I took in my reflection—my big round eyes with long lashes reminding me why I’d been bullied in school. I was feminine and pretty. Not like any of the boys in my class.

I stepped closer to the mirror, staring at the smattering of freckles on my nose, the way my lips were too full and my jaw too soft.  I hated what stared back at me.

Quickly, I changed into skinny jeans and my soft grey sweater, pulling on my favourite black Chelsea boots. I loved the sound they made as I walked, the click of the slight heel. They made me feel good, confident almost. Not that I was ever really confident.

Ten minutes later I was changed, teeth washed, hair brushed and ready to go. “I’m heading to the library, I won’t be late,” I said, standing in the hall and trying to seem casual.

“You’ve work in the morning.” My stepdad stood in the doorway to the TV room, a beer in one hand and his belt buckle undone. Jesus, he was like a caricature of himself.

“I know.” Then a moment of inspiration struck. “I want to get a few books on mechanics. I can’t find enough on the internet. I’m really interested in it.”

His face changed, and he nodded. “About time ya were interested in something normal. Don’t be late or I’ll drive down there myself and drag ya home. Got it?”

I saluted him, knowing how much he hated it and then ducked out the front door before he could say anything further.

Okay, you can do this. It’s fine. Just go there, ask Sonny what’s wrong with him, then leave. I set off down the dark street, passing by all the neighbours. What would they think if they knew I was meeting a man like Sonny?

Nerves twisted my stomach in knots, but I walked on. I was either on my way to get some answers or on my way to be abducted and killed. Or maybe not killed? He might just want to fuck me.

Jesus, what was wrong with me. Was I really getting turned on by the idea of being kidnapped and kept as a sex slave by Sonny? Yes, yes, I was.

Five minutes later I was standing outside the gate to the tennis courts. There were two courts, all a little run down, with grass growing in patches and holes in the net.

As far as I knew, nobody ever used it. Except a couple of the local teenagers when they needed a place to hook up. The tall hedge rows around the courts made it the perfect secluded spot. Nice one, Ali, pick a spot where no one will see if you’re attacked. I rolled my eyes and waited.

There was a perfect half-moon in the sky, and it seemed almost yellow, as though it was painted in gold. I jumped when a guy turned the corner, his hand tucked into the pocket of a girl’s jeans and they both nodded at me before they disappeared behind the hedge rows.

I turned my gaze back to the moon and then I heard it; that roar that made my pulse race and my cock stiff. As it grew louder, I felt uneasy. What the hell was I going to say to him? The engine quietened and I listened to his footsteps and then there he was; God-like, the moon illuminating his leather jacket and showering him in her aura. He was fucking incredible.

“What’s up,” Sonny said, striding toward me, and stopping near one of the benches. He sat down and glanced over at me, leaning back and resting his arms, powerful, confident, dangerous.

I walked closer, trying to act aloof but I knew I was failing.

“Why did you send me that link?” My voice was so small I wanted to kick myself.

“Because you watch shit porn. I thought you’d appreciate something better.”

I swallowed; my mouth suddenly gone dry. “Yeah, but...”

“But what?” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

Oh fuck, this was a bad idea.

“But it’s you. You’re in the video.”  I sounded like a dope. I hate myself, honestly, I do.

“So?”

So? Was that really his response?

“Eh, sooooo, are you not embarrassed that you sent me a video of you, doing stuff, with someone else?”

Sonny’s mouth was fixed into a bemused smile and he let out a chuckle that unnerved me even more. “Not unless you didn’t enjoy it. But something tells me you did.”

My cheeks burned and I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “No, I, eh. It was good. But, you know, I mean, it was weird watching you.”

Sonny sat forward then. “What were you thinking as you were watching it?”

My breath caught and I didn’t have any words left. Damn. What was he wanting me to say?

Right then he stood up, walking straight for me and backed me up against the fence. The sound of the metal fence rang out and I stammered out words in surprise. “Wha-what are you d-doing?”

Sonny closed in on me, the scent of the leather and something else, woodsy and tobacco, all made me feel so aroused. His mouth moved closer and I swear to God I thought I might pass out.

Lowering his mouth to my ear, I shuddered as his hot breath ghosted my neck. “I think you liked watching me, Ali. Didn’t you? I enjoy being watched. It’s hot knowing someone is getting off on that. Did you get off looking at me? Did you cum?”

That was it. I was dead. Lost. Game over.

“Eh...”

“Would you like to be watched like that?”

Now, I’m not going to say I haven’t been shocked before, but I honestly felt like I’d been kicked in the nuts. What was Sonny asking? Did he want to watch me? Fuck it, enough of this bullshit. I needed answers.

“Who was that boy? Is he your boyfriend?”

Sonny smiled, still leaning over me, pinning me against the fence. “He’s a friend. He likes the things I like. And we do scenes together and post them on the site. But he’s not my boyfriend, no.”

I nodded, my mouth like the fucking Sahara, and then I mumbled out some gibberish. “You do it, like, public? I mean, online for... people? Is it porn?”

“Not exactly. We do it because it’s a total fucking high being watched. Knowing that thousands of people watch those clips. But personally, I prefer when it’s more intimate.” He leaned closer, moving his mouth from my ear until his lips were hovering over mine. “I prefer when its raw, in the moment, the excitement that you might get caught. That’s what really gets me off. Do you think you’d like that?”

I didn’t know. How could I? I hadn’t done a lot in my short eighteen years. And to be honest, the only sex I’d had so far was rather disappointing. The two boys I’d been with had been as clueless as me. But something told me Sonny was far from clueless.

“I don’t know. I never thought about it,” I said and then I blurted out the truth. “But I liked watching you. I just didn’t like that other boy.”

What the fuck did I just say? Seriously? Can someone come and kill me now. Please and thank you.

Sonny grumbled out a deep laugh and pulled back a little. “You the jealous type?”

“No. I don’t think so. Maybe? I just didn’t like seeing you with him. I liked it, it was hot, but you know, I wished it...”

“Was you?” Sonny interrupted me and I balked at his perceptiveness. Shit.

I nodded slowly, not knowing what else to do.

“Is there anyone else here?” Sonny asked, looking around the darkened court.

“Yes, there’s a couple over there. Behind the trees.”

“Good.”

Good? What’s good? But I didn’t ask, instead watching wide eyed as Sonny undid his belt, peeling his jeans apart and then reaching into his pants to pull out the most perfect cock. Was this happening? We were in a public area, at eight p.m. and anyone—ANYONE—could walk by and catch us.

My breathing fastened until it hit hyperventilation speeds. “What are you doing?” I whispered in a panic.

“I’m checking whether you are an exhibitionist as well as a voyeur. You liked watching me. But would you like to be the one being watched, Ali?”

This was a life-affirming moment for me. Because whatever I did now was going to have consequences. If I walked away, Sonny would probably never talk to me again, at least not in this flirty way. But if I stayed, I could get caught. I didn’t know how I’d handle it if someone walked by and saw us.

And even if we weren’t caught, I’d have crossed a line. Going from being a relatively respectable boy to the sort of guy that dropped to his knees to suck a man off in public.

As that last thought slipped through my mind, I shivered in response. Maybe the real reason I was panicking was because I wanted this, more than I’d ever have guessed. Sonny had found out something about me that I hadn’t even known.

“I’m a good boy,” I said, the statement sounding so ridiculous I don’t know how Sonny didn’t laugh. But he didn’t. Instead he gave me a kind smile, just like when he’d caught me masturbating in work. He looked at me with understanding, no judgement. Accepting me, flaws and all.

“Doing naughty things doesn’t make you bad. Anyway, I like a good boy. They tend to want to please their Daddy.”

“Daddy?” As the word rolled of my tongue, I saw how Sonny’s eyes glistened and his mouth twitched.

“Uh-huh. You know what that is?”

I did. But I wasn’t into it. At least, I assumed I wasn’t. But I hadn’t thought I’d be into any of this, so...

Without thinking anymore, I dropped to my knees, the fence rattling as I grabbed a hold of Sonny’s thighs and stared at his erection. It was beautiful, uncut, the head shiny and smooth in the moonlight. I licked my lips, imagining how it would feel.

I leaned forward, nuzzling my face in the dark nest of hair above his cock. Drawing back a little, I grasped Sonny’s cock, examining it for a minute. I hadn’t been with an uncut guy before and it was strange, the way the skin folded down over the head. I slid it back, exposing his sensitive tip and Sonny let out a huff of air.

I tilted my head, brushing my lips against the smooth tip, the skin like silk as I traced it back and forward across my lips. Then, as if teasing myself, I parted my lips a little, blowing on his cock and smiling as it jerked in response.

As I said already, this was a moment. One there was no coming back from but fuck; I was beyond saving at this point.

Opening my mouth, I darted my tongue out, licking the tip and grinning at the salty taste. I’d given blowjobs before, but I felt like this one was a test. A try-out for the sexual championships of Sonny.

And I wanted on the team. This was my chance to show him I was able. Sonny widened his stance a little, and I gripped the base of his cock, fisting it a few times before I slid my mouth around him and sucked him in, carefully sliding his cock past my teeth and toward the back of my throat.

Sonny was quiet, only the sound of his breath hammering in the air, and then I felt his hand rest on my head.

The smell of his leather jacket mixed with that deep, base arousing scent was delicious. I slid my tongue all along his length and then swirled around the tip, over and over, until I heard him moan. Sonny let out a grunt as I dipped the tip of my tongue into his slit, tasting the pre-cum that had started to drip.

There was nothing in my mind as sexy as that moment. The rough feel of the ground under my knees, the scent of Sonny’s leather jacket, and the feel of his cock, warm and swollen, in my mouth. I was so turned on, so hot for this man.

I wanted his cock in my mouth, his cum on my face, fuck, I wanted him buried deep in my ass. I let out a groan, vibrating around his erection and Sonny bucked into my mouth.

Fuck yes.

His hands slid in my hair, tugging gently and I quickened the pace, loosening my throat and breathing through my nose. I sucked and swallowed, taking him further back each time.

And then I heard a sound—footsteps and voices—and my world came crashing down.

I pulled back, releasing his throbbing cock and then looked up at him. He was staring down at me, a peculiar expression on his face.

Challenging me.

Dammit. I hated how he made me want this so bad. But I did. Stand up, Ali. Just get up and walk away. People are coming. Get the fuck up.

I let out a long exhale and then shuffled a little on my knees as my heart pounded and the footsteps drew closer.

Fuck it. This was my moment.

Sonny gasped as I sucked him back into my mouth, swallowing his down until I felt myself close to gagging. But I didn’t, instead relaxing my throat until I felt his tip ease to the back of my throat. Sonny was panting and it spurred me on.

I sucked and worked his cock, my mouth destroying him as I fondled his balls.

“Shit,” he whispered, and I glanced up to see Sonny close his eyes and smile. He was so fucking sexy, so gorgeous and I wanted him to come in my mouth. I wanted to swallow him down so bad.

Sonny let go of my hair and planted a hand each side of my head, guiding me as he slid in and out between my lips, fucking my mouth. It was so hot, and my own cock ached.

There was a laugh, and someone muttered a ‘Jesus’.

His grip tightened when he heard the voices, heard the shoes moving behind us, watching us, catching us in this sex act, and I swallowed him back as he groaned. Two long thrusts into my mouth and I felt hot cum sliding down my throat as he rocked into my mouth.

It was glorious and filthy and everything I ever dreamed of. And then I heard the footsteps move on by, fading back into silence.

After, I stood up, brushing the dirt from my knees and wiping the saliva and other fluid from my lips, and stared at him, expectantly. I’d done it; I’d blown him in public and we’d been caught.

Sonny zipped himself back up and then pushed his body against mine, landing his lips against my mouth and sending me spinning.

“You’re right. You are a good boy,” he whispered between hot kisses.

His words made me smile, pleased that he was happy. “You think so?”

Sonny dragged his rough thumb across my bottom lip. “Yes, and you’re gorgeous as hell too.”

I blinked, unsure whether it was his touch or what he’d said that was catching me right in the heart.

“Nobody has ever said that to me before. I’m kinda goofy. And too girly, and...”

“And incredibly sexy with a mouth that just destroyed me. Why can’t you see that, kiddo?”

Did he mean it? Did he really think I was sexy?

I shrugged, embarrassed and shy and lost in his dark eyes. “What now?” I said, hoping this wasn’t the end.

Sonny slid his thumb into my mouth and pressed his hips against mine. “Now, you answer one more question.”

I nodded, my mouth closing around his thumb instinctively as though my body craved having parts of him inside it.

“Ali, I want you to think about this before you answer. Do you want to be a good boy, or do you want to be my good boy?”

It was warm outside, but I shivered at Sonny’s words. Holy crap. Was this for real? Did he want me? I knew so little about these things, and life in general. So, I’d have to trust my gut on this one.

I released his thumb from my mouth with a wet sounding ‘pop’ and stared up into his face.

“I want to be your good boy,” I whispered, the sound of blood whooshing through my eardrums as the words left my mouth and my heart raced.

Sonny smirked, the sexiest and most deviant smile crossing his lips. “That’s the answer I was hoping for. You’re going to be glad you said yes.”

“Why?” I breathed out, my cock aching in my tight jeans.

“Because every good boy needs a bad Daddy.”

_____________

Want more of Sonny and Ali?

The story continues with Trying Kink, Part 2 – Good Boy. OUT NOW!!

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GOOD BOY

Trying Kink, Part Two

Blurb

What if you couldn't look away? If you couldn't fight the desire to watch or be watched. And what if there was a way to do just that? Somewhere where good boys turned bad...

I’m still a good boy, aren't I? Even if I've done things that I shouldn't have. Seen things, felt things, touched things...

Sonny’s like a drug and I'm completely hooked.

He's testing me; challenging me to be the good boy he wants. But underneath it all I know he's really craving me to defy him. Because Sonny's a bad Daddy and he's going to corrupt me.

Good Boy is Part Two in the Trying Kink serial. If you like Daddy kink, exhibitionism, lingerie and voyeurism, then this ongoing serialized story is for you.

CONNECT

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BOOKS BY CS JOYCE

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You can find all my books available on Amazon here:

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Dark Reserves Series

Theo’s Game (Book #1)

http://mybook.to/THEOS_GAME

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Love Theo (Book #1.5)

http://mybook.to/LoveTheo

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Hunter’s Desire (Book #2)

(coming soon)

The Individualists Series

The Heart Dealer  (Book #1)

http://mybook.to/TheHeartDealer

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Heart from Home (Book #2)

http://mybook.to/HeartfromHome

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Heart’s Manor (Book #3)

(Coming soon)

Trying Kink Serial

Bad Daddy, Part #1

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Good Boy, Part #2

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The Tease, Part #3

mybook.to/Good_Boy

ABOUT

CS Joyce lives in Ireland and writes contemporary romance stories about men falling in love with men. She fiercely believes that love conquers all and aims to sprinkle a little magic with her stories. She also has a filthy mind and a propensity for kinkiness!

She spends her days writing, reading and caring for the tiny people she created.