“Wyatt, we can’t do this,” Carter said, pushing him back. “You have a daddy already, this is just supposed to be a fun night. I don’t want it to get complicated–any more complicated than it already is going to be.”
“Yeah, but you’re fuckin’ hot though,” Wyatt said, cub soda sparkling in his eyes–along with something else, a certain fire. “Or fuck, you could be, damn. I feel fucked up.”
“You kind of are fucked up–did one of those guys give you another drink?”
Wyatt nooded, smirked, and went in for another kiss, grinding up against Carter’s leg. “Think he called it a hot shot or something, tasted like sucking on a dick sized pepper.”
“Fuck, we gotta get you home.”
“Why, so you can fuckin’ ravage my cub hole daddy?” Wyatt groaned in his ear.
“No, so we can put you to fuckin’ bed boy,” Carter growled back at him, not noticing his voice slipping a bit lower than usual. “Because when you come down off one of those, you’re going to feel like your head is in a vice, and right now you’re too stupid and cocky to not do something you’ll regret.”
“Yeah? Got any ideas, daddy? I’m happy to hear them.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Carter said, frustrated that his night treating his changing daddy to his first night as a proper cub was quickly turning into a night he’d spent plenty of times with other cub friends of him, dragging them home after getting a little too wasted, and a little too beyond themselves, depositing them on their couch to sleep it off before heading back out to get back to the night’s fun. Wyatt was more than happy to hang off his arm, and it was clear the hot shot was shooting through his system, his muscles throbbing a bit larger, growing slightly taller, his goatee thickening slightly as his hair shrank down into a buzzcut, his auburn hair brightening to a strawberry blonde. His cock and balls were larger and throbbing red, looking like the pepper Wyatt had mentioned before. He wouldn’t go soft for a few hours at least, and trying to jack off while on a hot shot could be excruciating, but if you didn’t cum, well, that was excruciating all on its own. That was part of the fun, really–an ever escalating spiral of horniness, losing yourself to this red veil of lust for the evening, inhibitions dropping to nothing, used by anyone around you until you finally explode–Carter knew from personal experience, but it wasn’t a drink for a newbie by any means.
Wyatt grew more and more restless as they got closer to Carter’s place, lunging for another kiss, whispering horrifically naughty shit in Carter’s ear, groping his cock and sliding his hand down the front of his denim shorts. Carter resisted it all, and Wyatt was getting more and more frustrated, until he shoved Carter up against a business shuttered for the night, and in the doorway ground his rock hard cock against him, begging Carter, begging daddy, for a little taste, a little pleasure, he was just so hot! He was hot to the touch, sweat pouring off him in buckets, and he reeked of musk–the scent was intoxicating all on its own, and Carter found himself…wondering what it might be like to just shove him down and make the cub suck his daddy cock for a bit–
He got hold of himself again, slipped out of the doorway where Wyatt had pinned him down, grabbed him by the hand and dragged him off. The apartment was just another block, and he managed to get them both there without any further incident. Inside, Wyatt immediately tried to tear Carter’s clothes off of him, begging for his cock, begging to get fucked, but Carter just shoved him into the bedroom, told him to hang tight for just a second while he mixed him something to help him come down a bit, and he could sleep it off, shut the bedroom door between them, and heaved a sigh, proud of himself for holding it together as well as he did with that cub pawing all over him, even if it had made him feel pretty good to be the focus of the hot fucker’s attentions.
Carter went to the kitchen to fix a hangover fix he’d perfected for himself, and passed a mirror on the way there, pausing to take in the shift he’d suffered. He looked to be in his forties at this point, and while not quite a daddy, he was certainly no longer a cub by any stretch of the imagination. He heaved a sigh, thinking that if he was himself, he’d probably find this body hot as hell, but all he could think about right now was how Wyatt had looked on that dance floor, sweat dripping off him, running down his body, the way he’d looked over at him, the way he’d looked at him on that sidewalk, the way his breath had smelled, the way his pits had smelled, how hard that cock had felt against his gut. He was groping his own cock thoughtlessly, his other hand tweaking a nipple, hair turning a bit greyer as he stood there, remembering it–wanting it…but he stopped, and cursed the whole shitty situation. He…did want to fuck him, but on their own terms, not like this. Not with Wyatt strung out on a hot shot.
He mixed the drink he used to come down after a wild night, trying to keep his mind off of Wyatt as best he could, and went back to the bedroom, but when he got to the door–he swore he heard someone crying. He opened the door, and sure enough, there Wyatt was, sitting on the ground with his back against the bed, red hot cock jutting up from his lap, tears streaming down his face. He looked over at Carter, thought about hiding them, but how could he? Everything felt so close to the surface. “I’m such an idiot, fuck,” he muttered, “I should have known.”
Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Carter said, setting the drink on the dresser, “You should have seen me when I shot two of those one night, fuck. It was a…great night, but it took me days to feel like myself again.”
Do…I not remember that because I forgot?”
No, that was before we were together, and I never told you about it, I don’t think. If you thought I was wild when we were together, you should have seen me before. I was a hot mess–literally at times.”
Wyatt shuddered, went to touch his cock, and cringed, “Fuck, it feels like its on fuckin’ fire, but it feels so fuckin’ good!”
Carter got the drink from the dresser and handed it to him. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better in a bit.”
Wyatt took the glass and looked at it, and then up at Carter–and before Carter could stop him, he dumped it on the floor next to him.
“What the fuck? Why the fuck did you do that?”
“Because I don’t want to drink it–I just want you to fuck me already, daddy.”