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Learning with Daddy

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A ten-year-old Stiles wakes up in the middle of the night feeling strange. He's lying on his front, his hips still lazily grinding into the mattress beneath him until his brain starts working properly and he stops himself. His body is all hot and shaky, a good but unfamiliar sensation, but what isn't so good is the warm and sticky something in the front of his pyjama bottoms.

Turning over to lie on his back, Stiles flings back his favourite Spider-Man bedsheets, switches on the lamp on his bedside table and looks down at himself, his curious and overactive mind going a mile a minute. There's a wet spot on the front of his pyjamas, and Stiles has no clue what it could be. At first, he thinks that he peed himself while he was sleeping, which would be embarrassing because he's a big boy now and doesn't remember the last time he wet the bed. But after touching the damp material covering his private parts and sniffing his fingers, Stiles finds that whatever the something is, it doesn't smell like pee. It doesn't smell like anything he knows, and this worries him a lot.

Is there something wrong with him?

His body shaking for a different and less pleasant reason now, Stiles opens his mouth wide and screams for his Daddy. He hears nothing for a few seconds, and then footsteps thunder down the hall. The door bangs against the wall as his Daddy races inside his bedroom. He goes straight over to the bed, his torso bare and his lower half covered by a pair of boring grey sweatpants.

"What's wrong?!" his Daddy asks urgently. He sits down on the edge of the bed and cups Stiles' cheeks in his calloused hands.

"I don't know," Stiles sniffles. "I woke up and…"

"And what, baby boy? Did you have a nightmare?"

"Nuh-uh. Look."

Stiles gestures to his wet crotch and is confused when his Daddy releases his face and all the tension seems to bleed out of his body.

"You just had a wet dream, baby," the man says, as if that's supposed to explain everything.

"What's that?" Stiles asks, calming down now that he's seen his Daddy's reaction. If his Daddy isn't worried, then he figures he doesn't have to be either.

"It's what happens when boys start growing into men," his Daddy explains. "When you have a really good dream, sometimes it'll feel so good that you'll have an orgasm. That's when semen comes out of your penis. That's what the wet spot is."

"So it was nothing bad?"

His Daddy licks his lips and his pupils get bigger. "It's not bad at all, baby. Did it feel good?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Before I got scared, yeah. It felt really good, Daddy."

"See? Nothing bad, then."

Stiles nods and thinks he gets it. Sort of. "Do you get wet dreams, Daddy?"

"No, but I used to when I was around your age."

"So you don't…" Stiles tries to remember the word. "You don't have…orgams?"

"Orgasms, baby. And yes, I do," his Daddy responds, "but not when I'm sleeping."

"Then when?"

"Uhh…"

Stiles moves away from his pillow and sits next to his Daddy, curling into his side. He wraps a skinny arm around the man's waist and is surprised when he feels something hard in his Daddy's sweatpants. "What's that?" he asks, leaning back again with a frown.

"That's…" His Daddy takes a deep breath, and the thing in his sweats gets even bigger, tenting the fabric. "That's Daddy's penis, baby."

"Mine doesn't get like that."

"Not yet. It's because you're still growing, but since you're having wet dreams, it shouldn't be too much longer until your penis gets hard too. It's called an erection."

Stiles stores this new information away. "Does it feel good?"

"Y-yeah, baby."

"Does that mean you can have an orgasm now too?" Stiles gets up on his knees and stares up at his Daddy's pretty face. He has always thought that his Daddy is the prettiest person ever.

Redness appears on the man's cheeks. "It can, if Daddy touches himself."

"Can I help? I wanna help you feel good, Daddy!"

The man blinks at him before his mouth curls up in a smile. "You do?"

"Yeah. Can I? Can I, please?"

"Okay, baby boy."

Stiles wiggles excitedly in place. "Yay! Thanks, Daddy!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Let's…let's move this to my bed, okay? It's bigger."

"Okay, Daddy."

Stiles lifts his arms, silently asking to be carried. His Daddy has never been able to say no to him, and tonight is no different. When he's picked up, Stiles curls his legs around his Daddy's waist and buries his face in his neck, inhaling the scent of him. His Daddy always smells so good, and somehow his smell seems even better right now. With each step the man takes as he walks from Stiles' bedroom to his own, his erection rubs against Stiles' ass cheeks, and that feels really good too.

In the master bedroom now, his Daddy sets him down on the bed and positions himself against the headboard. "You ready, baby?"

Stiles crawls forward so that he's kneeling right in front of him. "Yeah, Daddy."

A few seconds later, his Daddy raises his hips and pushes his sweatpants off. He throws them over the side of the bed and then sits back, his legs spread and his arms resting at his sides. Stiles isn't paying attention to any of that, though. Instead, his focus is entirely on the hard length sticking out from between his Daddy's legs.

"Wow, Daddy, it's huge!" he exclaims, shuffling forward. "Will I get that big one day?"

"Maybe. If you keep eating all your vegetables."

"I will, Daddy! I wanna be that big."

Without even thinking about it, Stiles reaches out and wraps a hand around his Daddy's erection. His fingers don't meet his thumb, it's so thick, and it's really long too. It looks similar to his own penis, only a supersized version. Stiles is fascinated and likes how it feels in his hand—warm, and even though the shaft is hard, the skin is so soft.

Then there are the dense curls at the base. Stiles is smooth there, which is another difference between him and his Daddy. He has known that his Daddy has hair all over for years—his chest, armpits, legs and arms—but he's never seen this part of his Daddy before. He likes that as well, thinks there's something nice about it.

Under his Daddy's instructions, he begins moving his hand up and down his erection, the wrinkled skin at the end repeatedly pulling back to reveal the fat head. Clear fluid beads at the spot he knows his Daddy would usually pee out of, but like the dampness still in his pyjama bottoms, Stiles doesn't think it's actually pee.

"What's that, Daddy?" he asks, swiping the index finger of his other hand over the head. He rubs the weird fluid between his finger and thumb.

"It's called pre-come, baby. It means you're making Daddy feel good."

Stiles gives a toothy grin, proud of himself. "Really?"

"Really, baby."

"Cool!"

Stiles stares down at his fingers again and sniffs them. The fluid his Daddy produced smells a bit like the stuff in his pyjamas, but stronger. He licks it off of his finger and looks up at his Daddy when he hears a choked sound.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" he asks.

"Y-yeah, baby, I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting you to taste it."

"It tastes good," Stiles says, smacking his lips. "Weird, but good. I like it."

"Yeah? D'you want more, baby?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then you have to make Daddy feel extra good." The man tucks his hands behind his head, and his erection twitches in Stiles' lax grip. "That's the only way to get more."

Stiles tightens his hand and starts stroking his Daddy's erection again. "Do I just keep doing this?"

"That feels good, but there's something that would feel even better."

Stiles frowns. "What is it?"

"Your mouth. That would feel really good, baby."

Stiles looks down at his Daddy's erection and worries at his bottom lip. "Will it fit?" he asks dubiously.

"Not all of it, baby—you're way too small still—but that's okay. You can just suck on the tip like a lollipop. How 'bout it? You wanna give it a go for Daddy?"

After thinking about it for a moment, Stiles nods. "I'll try, Daddy."

This earns him a smile and a tender, "Good boy," that makes Stiles feel all warm and tingly inside. He moves backward on the bed and lies down on his front, leaning up on his elbows. His Daddy removes one of his hands from behind his head and holds the base of his erection steady, pointing it downward so that the head is aimed at his son's mouth. Stiles peers up at his Daddy's face for some extra reassurance—his Daddy's erection seems even bigger this close to his face—and when he gets it with another smile, he opens his mouth.

"Go slow, baby," his Daddy tells him. "I don't want you choking."

Tentatively, Stiles lowers his mouth until the head of his Daddy's erection is inside. It stretches his lips obscenely, but he doesn't mind it. He likes the feeling of it on his tongue, nice and heavy.

"Try not to catch me with your teeth," his Daddy warns. "That won't feel good."

Stiles pulls off briefly to say, "Okay, Daddy," and then descends of the man's erection again, his eyes on his Daddy's flushed face. He flicks his tongue over the place where his Daddy makes pre-come like he's a kitten drinking milk, his eyelids fluttering when the bitter saltiness bursts across his taste buds. He really does like it, and already he thinks that he'll never get enough of it. His Daddy just tastes so good, and he really hopes that he'll be allowed to do this again.

"Someone's enjoying himself," his Daddy teases him.

Stiles just hums and closes his eyes, still lapping up his Daddy's pre-come. He swirls his tongue all around to make sure he doesn't miss any of it, and he's surprised when his tongue slips beneath the wrinkled skin partially covering the head. The taste is even stronger there but just as nice.

"That feels amazing, baby," his Daddy groans. "Keep going just like that."

Happy that he's making his Daddy feel good, Stiles does as he's told, even bobbing his head up and down slightly. After a while, he opens his eyes again when his Daddy starts to pet his hair with his other hand, thick fingers running through the brown strands.

Stiles' mind is quiet, barely any thoughts going through it. It's abnormal for Stiles, whose mind is usually filled with thoughts that he can't ever seem to speak fast enough. It's relaxing, and the sleep that he's missing by being awake at this time of night begins to catch up to him. His eyelids droop, and he really wants to rest his head on his Daddy's thick, hairy thigh like it's a pillow and go back to sleep.

But that would mean he'd have to stop what he's doing, so he's conflicted.

"Won't be much longer, baby," his Daddy tells him, not missing the state of his son.

Sure enough, after just another minute of Stiles continuing to suckle at the tip of his erection, his Daddy's hips jerk atop the mattress and he tips his head back with a loud moan.

"Here it comes!" he cries out.

Stiles is shocked back to alertness when his mouth is suddenly filled to the brim with salty fluid. He rears back sputtering, half of the stuff in his mouth spilling out. More of it spurts from the tip of his Daddy's penis, hitting him in the face. He clenches his eyes shut until it's over, and then he risks a peek to see his Daddy breathing heavily with his erection in his big hand.

Shutting his mouth, Stiles is delighted to discover that the fluid his Daddy gave him is just like his pre-come. It's thick as he swirls it around his mouth.

"You look so pretty painted with my come, baby," his Daddy compliments.

Stiles swallows so that he can speak. "Your come?"

"Another name for semen. It's like the stuff in your pyjamas from your wet dream."

"So you had an orgasm?" Stiles asks, remembering their earlier conversation.

"Yeah, baby, I did. You made Daddy feel very good. Good job, baby."

Stiles is pleased with himself for making his Daddy proud. "Can I make you orgasm again, Daddy?"

The man chuckles. "Not right now. Daddy needs some time to recover first."

"But we can do it again later, right?"

"Yeah, baby. We can do this every night, if that's what you want."

"I want to super bad, Daddy. I loved it!"

"I'm glad. There's just one thing, though."

Stiles cocks his head to the side. "What?"

"You can't tell anyone else what we're doing. They wouldn't understand."

"Can I at least tell Scotty?"

"Not even him, baby. Daddy could get in very big trouble if anyone found out."

This gets Stiles on board instantly. He doesn't want his Daddy to get into trouble. That's bad. "Okay. I promise I won't tell anyone, Daddy."

"There's my good boy."

His Daddy sits forward then and wipes his fingers through the mess on Stiles' face. He holds them out for his son to clean with his tongue, which Stiles does happily, licking up all the come he can get.

Once it's all gone, Stiles thinks back to his earlier idea when he sees that his Daddy's penis is soft. He couldn't do it when his Daddy was hard because he was so huge, but now he probably can. He asks for permission, and when he gets it, he settles down, rests his head on his Daddy's thigh and draws his Daddy's soft penis into his mouth. He can fit much more of it now, and it's comforting in a way. He has always liked having stuff in his mouth—he heard someone call it an oral fixation once—but he thinks that his Daddy's penis might just be his favourite thing.

"Sleep well, baby boy," his Daddy tells him, stroking a hand down the side of his face.

A few moments later, Stiles is out like a light.