Chapter 14 - Return of the Prodigal Stud.

The Daddy is home! The Daddy is home! Yum!

-Thoughts of Kevan Donagh Taylor-Kinney upon the return of his long-lost father.

The trip back from Palm Springs had been a fucking long one. He’d been stuck sitting on the plane at the Los Angeles airport for over an hour due to some mechanical problem. Once they did get off the ground the flight was bumpy as hell all the way over the rockies. Because of all that, he’d missed his connection in Chicago which meant he had to wait on Standby for another opening on a flight to Pittsburgh. Then, the greatest hardship of all, when he finally did get a seat out of Chicago, Brian was forced to fly coach. By the time he’d drug himself and his suitcase in through the back door of Britin’s Chapel it was after seven in the evening and he was tired, rumpled and grouchy.

No one came to greet him as he came inside. He knew Justin was home because he’d seen the Jeep parked in it’s usual spot outside the not-quite-finished garage that was still under construction behind the house. It appeared that their contractor was well on his way to finishing that little remodelling project though - the old garage that had been in place when they moved in had been woefully inadequate by Brian’s standards and therefore had to go. Brian was hoping the new garage would be completed by the end of the week so that he’d have someplace to park his Audi before the snow that had been forecast for the week before Christmas hit.

Brian tugged his suitcase into the Master Bedroom and left it just inside the door. He kicked his shoes off but didn’t stop for long. The sound of music drifting down the hallway told him which way to go to find the rest of the denizens of the house. As he passed by the office, he could see through the open door that the contractor had been busy in here as well. He stuck his head in through the opening and happily noted that this room appeared to be finished. The walls were freshly painted a beautiful hunter green, a thick light brown carpet covered the floor and his new desk, bookshelves and filing cabinets were all set up. It looked like a great place for him to retreat to when he needed to work at home - Brian looked forward to settling in later this weekend. It appeared that lots had been accomplished during his week away for the photo shoot. Brian felt an unfamiliar burst of pride in his chest as he thought about his home and all the little changes and upgrades he had planned for the place.

When a quick peek into the kitchen and another into the expanse of the Greatroom didn’t reveal the source of the music or his erstwhile family, Brian proceeded up the stairs to the choir loft where Justin’s studio was set up. There was a distinct odor of acrylic paint that got stronger as he got nearer and the music - some hip hop thing that Brian didn’t recognize with slurred lyrics that you couldn’t really understand without an interpreter - was playing loudly. At the top of the stairs he paused briefly to take in the scene he found before he was detected.

The choir loft had been set up with a plain linoleum tile floor that was hard to stain and easy to clean since it was a given that Justin’s painting would create prodigious messes. The rest of the area was sparsely furnished - also in deference to the activities likely to transpire in the space. Along the far end of the loft Justin had set up an old  paint-splattered fold out table on which he’d arranged his paints and brushes. Underneath, there were several rolling storage bins and racks that held other supplies. Justin’s large easel was set up in the middle of the floor, facing towards the rear wall so that he could get the most of the light streaming in through all the skylights and the large windows of the Greatroom. Closer to the stairs, there was a small single-sized futon, a small side table and a free-standing lamp with three directional lamp heads that could be arranged as the artist needed.

Justin’s back was to the stairs at the moment as he concentrated on the large-sized canvas he had set up on the easel. He must have been painting for some while since not only his hands but most of his clothing was daubed with various spots of paint. Brian hadn’t had a chance to sneak up here and peek at whatever it was that Justin had been working on for the past couple of weeks, so he was taken by surprise when he saw the gorgeous painting of himself and Kevan that Justin was just then finishing. It was a beautiful depiction of him holding Kevan, who was dressed in his winter best - Brian recognized the scene from a picture that Deb had taken of them the day they’d gone to Thanksgiving at her house. But the painting easily outshone the photo. Brian was once again blown away by Justin’s talent and the way the young artist managed to instill so much raw emotion in the paintings he created.

Brian didn’t have too long to marvel over the painting though. As soon as he fully stepped up into the loft area, he was spotted by the three month old who had been watching the nearby activity and happily burbling away in his bouncy chair which had been set up on the floor in the corner. Kevan was apparently overjoyed to see his Daddy and happily gurgled his own special, rather loud, hello.

Justin, who was startled by the noise, inadvertently knocked over the cup of cleaning solution holding his dirty brushes. He completely ignored that mess though and rushed to try and cover up the painting he’d been working on. Brian pretended he hadn’t already seen it, heading over to gather up his son instead.

“Brian! I didn’t hear you come in,” Justin turned to greet his partner as soon as he’d pulled a large tarp over the painting.

“I’m not surprised. You couldn’t hear world war three starting with that Nicki Minaj shit you’ve got playing,” Brian retorted, only half teasing as he bent over to extract the baby from the bouncey chair. “I can’t believe you’re exposing our son to that crap. It’ll warp his wee little brain. You wait and see - he’s going to rebel when he’s a teenager and do something totally horrible like decide he prefers classical music or something like that.”

Justin playfully shuddered at the idea of something so unthinkable happening. “You would never do anything like that, would you, Kevan?” Justin confronted the smiling gurgling baby in Brian’s arms. “There’s no way a baby of OURS could possibly end up some conservative, classical music-loving Republican! No way! Right, Kev? You’d never do that to your dads, would you?”

“Damn it, Justin! Don’t even JOKE about him turning into a Republican. That’s NOT funny!” Brian ordered, turning away from the laughing blond as if to shield the baby with his body from such an evil idea.

“Ok, Brian. I SWEAR I will refrain from even using the dreaded “R” word in the presence of our child. I wouldn’t want to corrupt him,” Justin replied with mock seriousness. “Now, since you’ve been gone for almost a whole week, I think it’s definitely your turn to play daddy. I’ve got about a half hour more work here. Why don’t you two head downstairs and get in some quality daddy/baby time and let me finish.”

“Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted, Sunshine. You’d think that after five days without my services you’d be just a little happy to see me - or at least my dick - but, whatever . . .” Brian complained as he and Kevan headed back down the stairs.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Kinney. I’ve got plans for you and your lovely dick for later. By the way, it’s only about a half hour till Kevan’s bedtime, you know. And then, it’s his daddies’ bed time . . .”

“I’ll set the timer for you, Sunshine. You’ve got exactly thirty minutes and then I’ll expect your naked ass in my bed. And if you’re not there, on time, I WILL punish you!”

“Promise?” Justin shot back with a wickedly lustful grin.

Brian didn’t deign to respond. Justin should know by now that he wasn’t kidding. He was fucking horny as hell after an entire week of no company other than his own right hand. If only he hadn’t had to worry about the damn leaky tits and the flabby baby belly and everything else associated with his freaky body, Brian could have had more than enough company. But, after his embarrassing attempt with The Package, he had shied away from any other encounters while he’d been on the shoot. Which meant that by the time he’d reached his own door, he was over the top horny and would have preferred to have a horny blond teen in his arms rather than a stinky and slightly soggy three month old. Oh well.

“Come on, Sonnyboy. I think you could use a fresh diaper and a bath. Then, we can put you to bed and your Papa and I can do naughty, unthinkable things to each other that you’ll hopefully sleep right through. Won’t that be fun? I know I’ll find it fun, Sonnyboy. Sooooo much fun . . .”

It took Brian more than thirty minutes to get Kevan cleaned up, fed and into bed. Mostly this was due to the fact that the big softy lingered longer than strictly necessary while nursing. There was just something so soothing about sitting there in the big comfy recliner in the nursery and holding his son in his arms. All the tension and stress from the week before just melted away as Brian sat in that chair with his child. The sheer love and adoration in Kevan’s dark blue eyes as he gazed up at Brian while he nursed was staggering. This much reverence directed solely at him was something that Brian had never in his life experienced let alone anticipated. It was humbling in some ways and also frightening. To be loved that much was the scariest thing Brian had ever experienced.

Not that he’d ever give it up, no matter what.

When Brian had finally got his fill of baby adoration - which unsurprisingly coincided with Kevan finally dropping off to sleep - he carefully put his son into the crib and gently pulled the soft dark brown fleece baby blanket up around the child’s chin. If he stood there and stared lovingly down on his baby for longer than was strictly necessary, there was nobody around to see it or deride him for it, so he didn’t stress over the fact. When he was finally able to tear himself away, it was with more than a bit of regret that he had to leave that angelic, sleepy, little boy.

Of course, he DID have an even more tempting boy waiting for him in the other room, so he felt more than compensated for the ache of having to leave his son.

The ten or so paces it took to get from the nursery to the bedroom were covered swiftly. The door was open. Brian hadn’t even crossed the threshold before he was instantly aware of the raunchy yet romantic fun awaiting him inside.

There were tealights and flickering candles lighting the interior of the bedroom. The room smelled of a relaxing blend of vanilla and sandalwood.  The larger candles flickered and crackled similar to a blaze in a fireplace. However, the sight of what was waiting for him on the bed distracted him from commenting on the overly romantic setting.

Justin was lying spread out on the bed, gloriously naked, with his already erect dick in his hands. He was slowly stroking himself, using both hands alternately, one after the other, in order to keep up a constant stream of pleasurable sensation. His eyes were closed and he was sporting a tempting little smile on his bubble-gum pink lips. Now THIS was the homecoming Brian had been expecting and longing for.

“You shouldn’t have started without me, Sunshine,” Brian growled as he sauntered into the room. “That was very naughty, Pretty Boy. You know you’re going to have to be punished for this, don’t you?”

“I want to be punished, Brian. In fact, I demand it. I’ve been very, very naughty while you were gone. I was SO lonely without you. I . . . I had to touch myself . . . all the time. I know I should have asked your permission first, Master, but I just couldn’t help it,” Justin simpered, scrambling to move into a submissive kneeling position on the bed.

The game his Sunshine was playing put a huge smile on Brian’s lips. Leave it to the inventive and intelligent lad to know exactly how to spice up his welcome home party. Brian was more than happy to play along with this scenario. Sliding his braided leather belt out of the loops of his jeans, he approached the bed with a feral grin on his face and a raging hard on straining against the seams of his fly.

"So, how many strokes do you think you deserve for your lapse of self control?” Brian’s voice was low and gravelly as he asked this evocative question. “Here's a hint . . . it better be in the double digits Sunshine."

“I-I-I wouldn’t presume to guess, but maybe 20, Master,” Justin stammered, playing his role as slave boy almost too well. “I did touch myself an awful lot, you know. Over and over again. Night after night. Sometimes even in the daytime when I was supposed to be working. And, a couple times, I even . . . well, I just wanted to feel you so bad, so I fingered myself too. It just felt so good, I didn’t want to stop . . .”

Brian heard himself actually growling like an animal at that point. Fuck! He was so fucking turned on by the submissive act and the little innocent looks his horny little blond was shooting at him that he almost couldn’t think of what to do or say next. All he wanted to do was fuck the living shit out of the boy over and over again. But, first, he’d have to somehow rein in this overwhelming lust long enough to play the game.

"Well my pet, you get 20 for touching your cock without my permission, and 10 for Fingering that tight little hole of yours. And you will count each. And. Every. One."

Brian swiftly bent over and grasped both Justin’s hands in one of his and then moved to use the belt in his hands to lasso them together. Justin’s token struggle to pull away only fanned the flames of Brian’s lust and he tugged the belt even tighter as he looked around, lost for a moment, trying to figure out where exactly to tie the other end of his makeshift restraint. Luckily, his crafty and resourceful boy had already thought of this particular obstacle and had made some minor adjustments to the big platform bed while Brian had been out of town.

Using his bound wrists to guide Brian’s line of sight, Justin winked and then pointed towards a nice, solid brass hook that had been added to the headboard low down near the built-in nightstand shelf. After spotting the new adornment, Brian deftly tugged Justin upward on the bed, hooking the free end of the belt through the hook and soon had his partner lying spread eagle on the bed with his hands tied above his head, helpless and horny . . . just the way he wanted him. With a savage grunt Brian flipped the unresisting boy over onto his stomach, exposing the lovely expanse of his perfectly sculpted bubble butt to the Master’s hungry view.

Brian massaged the ample globes of Justin’s ass slowly and methodically while he whispered soft commands into his ear. And then the spanking started, the blows coming down in a steady rhythm that ironically seemed to match the beat of Justin’s heart. With each strike both Brian and Justin became more aroused. Brian was getting off on the way the red outline of his open hand so prettily marked his partner's pale skin. Justin was getting off on his ability to turn over control of his body to Brian and trust him to take him to the highest heights. He also liked that he could count on Brian to be there to catch him when he came apart - which he did, long before the final love tap hit his posterior,  

Moments before Justin entered that place of complete detachment from reality, Brian took pity on him and slid his slick cock into the youth’s overly needy ass, pumping into him furiously. Every few thrusts, Brian would add in another slap to Justin’s already sensitized rear, which only increased the pleasure and the pain, ramping up the sexual tension until he could barely control himself. Justin didn’t dare let himself come yet . . . not until his lover breathed the soft yet firm command; giving him permission to have his much needed release.

“Please, Master, please . . .” Justin was too distraught to even fully voice what he needed right then - all he could do was beg for something, anything, that would finally relieve the pressure that was inexorably taking over his entire being.

“That’s it, Sunshine. Beg me! Beg me for what you want. What you need,” Brian huffed out, egging his lusty mount on. “Tell me, or I’ll keep riding your ass until you pass out,” Brian demanded, emphasizing the point with yet another stinging slap to the now raw, red rear of his writhing boy.

“I need . . . I need more, Master . . . m-m-more . . .” Justin couldn’t think let alone speak clearly but he knew that the exquisite torture wouldn’t end until he somehow managed this one last gargantuan task. “I need to come, Brian. Please. Let. Me. Come.”

“Good boy, Sunshine,” Brian praised the floundering boy, pleased with the way he’d submitted his whole being in order to earn his pleasure. “That’s all you needed to do. You just had to ask for what you need, Sunshine. Now, come for me, Pretty Boy. Come for me NOW!” Brian ordered and sunk his throbbing raw dick as deep as he possibly could into the welcoming depths of his obedient little slave boy.

“BRIANNNNNN!” Justin’s release and his cry of passion came at the same time, his cum streaming out in long white ribbons that fell across both their bodies as the words echoed off the ceiling and triggered Brian’s own well-earned release.

When Brian eventually came to his senses several hours, days, maybe years later, he found himself still draped over Justin’s prone body. The boy was either passed out or sound asleep - not that there was much of a difference between the two states. He was so happy that they weren’t relegated to condoms at the moment since he’d long passed the point where his softening dick had fallen free of Justin’s ass and he was glad that event wouldn’t mean an expedition to excavate a neglected condom. As it was, all Brian needed to do was roll off his sated partner, pull him into his chest in a comforting and familiar pose and let himself drift off to sleep.

The last thought Brian registered in his sex sated brain was that it really wasn’t so bad coming home to his son and his lover like this. Really. It was actually kind of sweet . . .