Page 12 of Clay
I loved it back then, the thrill of it, the way it made me feel alive in a way nothing else ever did. And standing here now, staring at it, I want it again. I want that rush, that reckless edge, even if just for a moment.
Clay catches my gaze, and his eyes darken, reading me like he always could.
“You miss it,” Clay says, stepping closer, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. It’s not a question.
“Yeah,” I admit, my pulse kicking up. “I do.”
He tilts his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Come on, then. I’ll take you for a ride—to the forest and back, just like we used to. I’m older, but this Daddy is still more than capable of handling the speed. But what about you, boy? Are you game?”
I hesitate, weighing it in my mind. Clay saying the D-word is one thing, and him calling me boy out loud is the icing on the cake. It still feels so natural, like we fit together perfectly.
But…
The sensible part of me—the one that’s been burned before, the one trying to build a quiet life—screams to say no, to walk away, to keep my distance from him and his world. The other part,the part that remembers how it felt to fly with him, to trust him completely, is louder.
What harm can it do?
One ride, a taste of the past, a chance to feel that spark again. I can handle that, right?
“Okay, Daddy,” I say, and his smile widens, a flash of teeth that’s all triumph and promise.
Clay grabs his helmet from the bike—offers it to me, but I shake my head, grinning. “No way. I want the full deal.”
Clay laughs, tossing it back, and swings a leg over the Harley, the engine roaring to life as he kicks it into gear. I climb on behind him, my thighs bracketing his hips, my hands sliding around his waist. His body’s warm and solid under my touch, all muscle and leather, and I feel that spark flare brighter, a current running straight through me.
I can feel my cock hardening as it pressed up against the bottom of Clay’s back and I’m pretty sure that it’s going to bring back a whole ton of memories for Clay when he realizes what’s pressing on him.
“Hold on tight,” Clay says over his shoulder, and then we’re off, peeling out of the lot with a growl that turns heads. “And try not to gettooexcited…”
I blush, but there’s no time to wallow in my embarrassment.
The wind hits me hard, whipping my hair back, stinging my cheeks, and I laugh—a wild, free sound I haven’t heard from myself in years. The town blurs past—houses, trees, the river glinting in the distance—and then we’re on the backroads, the forest rising up ahead, all green and gold in the morning light.
He takes the curves fast, leaning into them, and I move with him, our bodies in sync like no time’s passed at all.
My hands tighten on his waist, fingers brushing the hard plane of his stomach through his shirt, and the heat of him seeps into me, waking up every nerve.
The trees close in, the air turning cool and sharp with pine, and he slows, pulling off onto a dirt path that winds deeper into the woods.
The engine cuts out, and it’s just us, the quiet hum of nature settling around us.
I slide off the bike, my legs shaky from the ride, my blood singing with adrenaline. He’s off too, turning to face me, and the look in his eyes—dark, hungry, alive—mirrors what’s burning in me.
We’re alone here, hidden by the trees, and the air between us thickens, charged with everything we’ve been dancing around.
“Dylan,” he says, stepping closer, his voice rough and low, and that’s all it takes. “You’re a naughty boy. You need that butt of yours warmed up, don’t you?”
I swallow hard. I nod my head. I know what’s coming next.
“Drop your trousers, briefs too,” Clay growls, his eyes piercing through me and seeing inside my soul. He knows what I want. Of course he does, he’s my Daddy…
I nervously unbuckle and then drop my trousers, taking my briefs down too. Just like the old days, I turn and present my ass for inspection.
The cool breeze on my exposed cheeks makes me shiver. But I know that feeling won’t last long…
“Over the motorcycle,” Clay instructs, watching as I waddle toward the motorcycle and obediently bend over the seat, my ass an easy target now, fixed in place and ready to take what’s coming. “Same safeword?”
“Same safeword,” I reply, closing my eyes and not having to wait longer than ten seconds before the first spank lands on my naked, fleshy cheeks. “Owwwww!”
