Wreckless ( Ddlb ) *Complete*

Games

Emmett:

This morning, after Finnegan left, I finally got around to going through my mail from last week. Most of it was crap, of course, but one letter surprised me so much that I sat down before opening it. I didn't expect to hear back, I just submitted a few photos on a whim while Finn was in Michigan. I'd thought that having something to look forward was good even though I knew I didn't have a chance.

But now I'm holding a letter from the Maryland Arts Council. Every fall they offer a class and then do a huge photography exhibition that gets seen by important people. People who launch careers. People who make money for people like me. I guess they could be nice and respond to all the applicants. That's probably it.

Until I open it I don't know if I've been accepted or not. It's like that dead cat in a box. I might have gotten in. Once I read it, I'll know I didn't. Not that I expected to, I've never been able to devote the time and energy into it that I want to. Some people don't have jobs and bills to pay and have parents to buy them great cameras and all the lenses they want. I have to make do.

This class, shit, I can't go even if I want to. Job. See? So it doesn't matter, I'll just open it. I rip it open and then pull the letter out gingerly. It's folded in three and I slowly flatten it out on the table. Dear Mr. Emmett Locke. Shit. SHIT! Holy shit I'm in. Damn. I'm floored, honestly, and damn proud of myself. I can't accept, I'm not free from 9 to 5 for two weeks in September and October but that's okay, just knowing I got in is enough to get me excited about working on my pictures from the beach.

Unfortunately I have to work so the pictures will wait until Thursday when I'm off. I head to the garage and let me tell you, Peter is glad I'm back if the sign, chocolate bar and little note saying 'better you than me today' is any indication. We have cars in both bays and two parked out front, they got a little backed up last week so I spend the day doing two sets of brakes and some transmission work.

*** *** ***

When I get home Wednesday evening, Finny is gaming. His tongue is out and he's laser focused. He's at least taken time to get out of the monkey suit and get himself a drink but he doesn't even look at me when I walk in. "Hey darling."

No answer. Okay? I go get cleaned up and out of my dirty clothes and then start on dinner. Once the pasta is cooking I sit down next to him. I didn't see much of him Monday or Tuesday, so much for not needing to be in the office, so I'm glad he's home for dinner tonight. "Short day for you, I'm glad. Dinner in about 10."

"Not hungry, wanna play."

Okay, I've been patient. "Did you have dinner, Finny?" Because if so, when I got home would have been the time to tell me.

"Nope."

"Then you'll eat when it's ready."

"No." He's never been this bratty, I wonder if something happened at work today or if this is just from having no little time Monday and Tuesday. Maybe he's in withdrawal after last week.

I snake my hand down behind him and press against his hole right through his undies. "You'll do what I say, Finny." He's still trying to play but I lean over and nibble on his neck.

"Daddy!"

"For being a brat you can come set the table." I know this game autosaves so I grab the remote and turn the TV off.

"No! Daddy that's mean!"

"Ignoring me when I got home was mean, Finny. Telling me you won't eat the dinner I made is mean. I think you desperately need a lesson in how to treat daddy."

He's not mad now, he's smiling. "I like lessons." He follows me into the kitchen and grabs the salad, taking it to the table. Before long we're eating, I just had to drain and sauce the pasta, and he is shoving food into his mouth. Not three minutes later he hops up, drops his plate in the sink, mumbles a thank you and disappears back into the living room.

Nope, not happening. I finish eating and when I head out he's playing the game again, of course. He hasn't even sat down, he's right up against the coffee table as if it'll help him play better. I haven't done that since I first started watching porn.

I decide that if he's going to play, I'm going to play with him. I grab the lube and then yank him down onto my lap. "Good little boys do not treat their daddies like this, Finny. Now you're going to make it up to me."

"No daddy, I'm playing. Gonna beat the boss!"

"I'm the boss, boy, but you can keep playing. In fact, I insist." I grind my cock against his ass while palming him. He squirms, pressing against my hand.

"It's hard, daddy."

"Lots of things are hard." Our cocks, playing while being messed with, life. "Lift up." I manage to wiggle his undies down and then I perch him on my knees so I can really play with him. I decide to hold him by the balls and start opening him up with one finger. His thighs are flexing and he's clenching around me but managing to play, somehow. I wonder how long he can do it.

Eventually I have two fingers massaging his spot while I slowly jerk him off. He finally tries to put the controller down. "Feels good, daddy."

"Uh uh, you keep playing. Your game is more important than daddy so you just keep going."

"Is not, I'm sorry." He tries to turn around but I hold him in place.

"Not yet you're not. Keep going."

He picks it back up and I tease and mess with him for another twenty minutes. There's a rivulet of sweat going down his back and I've lost track of how many times he's died. "Please? Please daddy, I need you."

"I thought you wanted to beat the boss and you haven't yet, have you?"

"Can't concentrate daddy, need lovies."

"Is that so?" I love playing with him but I only have so much self-control. I nudge him forward and he ends up on his knees, chest resting on the coffee table. "Keep playing, Finny."

"No, want lovies. Please daddy."

Well, if his hands aren't busy holding a controller, "show me, hold that little ass open for me." Damn that's sexy as hell. I really like his hands back here and he does have a sweet, sweet hole. "You've been a very naughty boy, Finny."

"I know, I'm sorry Daddy. Will you hurt me?" He's begging for it, he wants it rough. Fine.

"You deserve it. Sluts shouldn't ignore their daddies because when they do, they get in trouble and you, little boy, are in trouble." Time to make him scream.