Rising Sap

It's hard to really understand what I'm feeling. The first word that comes to mind is "good," but I'm also cognizant of how vague that sounds. I'm still basically asleep, after all. Soon, though, other words start coming to mind: "warm," "heavy," and "rocking." Then, the more I wake up, the more I realize where the sensations are centralized: my groin. There's a weight there, a heated, moist weight, one that's moving, gyrating, stimulating me.

As if something clicks, I suddenly realize that Scotty is riding my cock in my sleep.

I'm still groggy as I come to, but I groan, my hands automatically going to Scotty's hips. "Jesus Christ," I murmur, blinking a few times to look up at him in the dim lighting.

He's grinning. "You're a heavy sleeper," he says, moving his hips in slow circles to get a good grind going.

"What are you doing?" I ask, running a hand over my face. Did he really just start using me in my sleep? And am I really *this* turned on by that notion? I can feel my cock throb inside of him so hard that it almost hurts.

"I'm all nervous for school," he says, as if that's a justification.

Granted, he has been nervous for weeks now. Summer came and went, and as college drew nearer, so did Scotty's anxieties. In the morning, he'll be attending his first class. He'd been fussing over outfits and supplies and preparations all day. It took me forever to convince him to let me sleep tonight -- and turns out I still am not getting my wish.

"So you're riding me?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

"It puts me at ease," he says, moving his hands to my chest and then pushing down on my cock extra deep. Both of us moan simultaneously.

Ever since I took Scotty's cherry, he's been absolutely insatiable. I figured he'd like it, but I hadn't anticipated that he'd enjoy it as much as he did. It has become such a regular part of our routine that I've been fucking him nearly every night. In fact, he still has a load of mine in him right now. It's gotten to the point where enough spit is often sufficient.

I guess I'll go along with it. Biting my lip, I hold onto his sides and start pumping my hips up lazily to meet his movements. He in turn moves his hands to his hard-on, closing his eyes and stroking quickly. The slick sounds of his fist make it obvious that he's been leaking profusely -- but I didn't think he'd cum so soon. I raise my eyebrows when I hear him moan and then see his cock start to spurt out thick ropes of cum on my torso. Granted, I have no idea how long he's been at it, but damn.

Scotty pants, pausing his movements altogether and catching his breath. "God, I feel so much better," he says, a light smile on his face. "Thanks." Then, he wiggles his butt against my lap playfully.

"What about me?" I ask him.

He looks down at me and grins. "What *about* you?"

I just thrust upwards lightly, making him bounce a bit. "C'mon, kiddo," I murmur. "You woke me up. You should finish the job."

He scoops up a little of his load on his index finger, guides it to my lips, and has me suck on it. "Ask nicely, Daddy," he says.

I grunt around his finger, licking off his flavor before saying, "Please, baby."

"Please what?"

"Make me cum."

He starts rocking his hips ever so slightly. "You wanna cum inside me?"

"Fuck yes," I groan. Scotty hits me with a mischievous smirk before he lifts himself out of my lap and then starts pulling off. "What are you--?" I start to ask, but before I can finish my sentence, Scotty grabs hold of my cock, lifts it up, and wraps his lips around it. "Oh fuck," I groan, watching Scotty sink down on my length. "You filthy little boy."

He giggles a bit on my cock before starting to pick up the pace, his tongue running wild and his hand fondling my balls. I lie back and close my eyes to just enjoy the sensations. I even bring my hand to the back of his head, lightly petting him gratefully rather than applying pressure. Part of me wants to laugh. I mean, I'm not surprised by Scotty's high sex drive. That's normal for his age. What surprises me are his interests. Between calling me "Daddy," being cum-hungry, and having a penchant for rough sex, I continue to underestimate his lack of innocence.

Gingerly, Scotty pulls off, lapping up and down the length of my manhood before he starts kissing lower. At first, I think he just wants to suck on my balls a bit, so I spread my legs a little wider for him. But he doesn't stop there. He actually lifts my balls with his index finger, holding them up as he kisses down my taint -- and when I realize what he's going for, I grunt and lift my legs a little more.

I hold the back of one of my thighs enough to present my hole to him, and without hesitation, Scotty dives in tongue-first. The sensation is shocking at first because Scotty has never done this before, but God, it feels divine. My eyes roll back as he drags his tongue across my hole, and I wrap my hand around my cock and start stroking in tempo. Jesus, how long has it been since I've gotten this kind of treatment? I can feel my vocal chords straining from my moans but I can't help it. It feels too fucking good.

As Scotty kisses and runs his tongue in circles, techniques that show he's been paying attention when I rim him, I feel my orgasm quickly approaching. "I'm close, Scotty," I groan, stroking faster.

He pulls away and licks his lips before smiling up at me. "Still wanna cum in me?" he asks.

I just nod. I don't care where I cum at this point. I'm just desperate for relief.

Scotty grins wider before sitting up on his knees. He uses his cum as lube, scooping it up and stroking me gently with a sure fist. Then, he turns his back to me and straddles my lap. I hold myself up for him as he sinks down. Even in the dim lighting, I can see the way his hole stretches around my girth -- and what a fucking sight that is. It's so lewd, so fucking hot, that I nearly cum right then and there. I move my hands to his ass, gripping each cheek and prying them apart as he starts to sink down, even deepening the arch in his back to give me a little show. Biting my lip, I watch him move hypnotically as he milks my cock practiced movements.

For a while, I let Scotty grind and bounce gently on me before I realize I need a little more to send me over the edge. I slide my hands up and around him, pulling his back down to my chest. Then, with a quick maneuver, I roll us over so that I'm on top of him, buried deep and completely enveloping him. Scotty gasps as I start to thrust my hips. I go hard enough to electrify his senses, enough to fulfill that masculine urge to breed. I start to pant and groan, working into him a little faster, skin slapping skin until finally, my orgasm overtakes me. I bury my face in his shoulder as I cum in him for the second time tonight, grinding deep until the wave passes and the tension starts to leave my body.

"Holy shit," he whispers.

"What?" I ask, lifting my head tiredly.

"I've never felt you so deep. I thought I was gonna die," he says with a little laugh.

Instinctively, I start to panic a little. "Why didn't you say something?" I ask, not wanting to hurt him.

"Because it was thrilling," he says, turning his head towards me with a smile.

I stare back at him for a moment before laughing. "As long as you're okay," I murmur, gently rolling off of him and collapsing on the bed.

"I would've said something," he says. "Don't worry." Then, he curls up beside me, resting his head on my chest.

Automatically, I put my arm around him to keep him close -- but I do check the clock on my nightstand. "You know it's 6am, right?" I ask.

He groans. "Is it?"

"Just past," I murmur. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school now?" He has class at 8am for some godforsaken reason.

"Are you kidding?" he asks. "I'm ready to hibernate."

I laugh a little before leaning down to kiss his forehead. "C'mon, monkey. No snoozing."

It takes a bit of back-and-forth, but eventually I get Scotty to roll out of bed and get his morning started. While Scotty showers and gets dressed, I head into the kitchen to make myself some coffee. I might as well stay up at this point. At the very least, I'd like to see him off to school and wish him good luck.

Once my coffee is made, I spend some time by the kitchen sink looking out the large window into my yard. The sun is just barely rising, so there's a hazy, foggy sort of glow amongst the surrounding trees. Part of me can't believe I actually bought a house in full with my ideal sort of property. It's like I'm living the life I've always wanted: a getaway house with the boy of my dreams.

Eventually, I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn to see him giving me puppy dog eyes. "What do you want?" I ask blandly. I know that look. He wants something.

"Can you drive me to school?"

I laugh. "Seriously?"

"I'm nervous," he says -- and he actually looks it.

I just set my mug down and place my hands on each of his shoulders. "You'll be absolutely fine," I assure him. "What are you so afraid of?"

"Looking stupid," he says, "or no one liking me."

"Two impossible things," I tell him. "You're smart, and you're loveable. I know doing something new seems scary, but know that I'll be here, cheering you on from afar."

He smiles. "Thanks, Uncle Ant."

"Just don't fuck the teachers," I warn -- and Scotty laughs before giving me a hug and then heading out the door. I watch him climb into his car, and when he finally drives off, I sigh. My little monkey, chasing his artistic dreams. I look forward to hearing about how his first batch of classes go, but in the meantime, I stay home, doing some art myself. I've been getting back into it this summer because of Scotty. Painting was never my strong suit, but I find it extremely therapeutic, especially if I use my fingers instead of a brush. Something about it feels more intimate.

I end up getting quite lost in it, spending my entire morning painting before taking a minor break for lunch and a short walk around the yard for some fresh air. It's strange thinking how different my life feels, how at ease I am, how casually I address my day. I don't have to worry about a job, or my finances, or (as much as it stings sometimes to think) an ailing mother. I just go wherever my mind wants to be stimulated. Truly, my biggest stress right now is Scotty -- and I'm so invested in his life that it can hardly be called stress at times. If I don't think too intently about my feelings and the oddness of our dynamic, I can follow his lead better and just have fun.

Closer to the evening, I hear the door unlock while I'm touching up my painting from this morning. Then, it bursts open, and in comes Scotty, bubbling with energy.

"Hey!" he says, looking rather chipper.

I smile. "Good day?"

"Very," he says, dropping his bag and practically skipping over to me. He kneels down beside me at the coffee table, taking care not to knock anything over. "Guess what?"

"What?" I ask, amused.

"I got a job on campus!" he says excitedly. "Now I can help with the bills."

I just smile patiently. He's been rather fussy about that ever since he moved in. No matter how many times I tell him I'm perfectly capable of covering the bills, he all of a sudden doesn't like taking money from me anymore. It's part of his "I wanna be a real adult" thing. As different as he is from his father, they're at least similar in that respect.

"Doing what?" I ask.

"Working the Information Desk," he says with a big grin. "Turns out I'm quite personable." I roll my eyes, which just makes him laugh before continuing. "Alsooo," he says dramatically, giving me a smirk.

"What?"

"I got asked out on a date!"

He looks like he's been dying to tell me that, because he's positively bursting with excitement. Me? I'm not sure what to think. I just kneel there, paint dripping off my fingers onto the canvas. "Someone asked you out already?"

"I know," he says, almost in disbelief, and he tells me about how he hit it off with a boy in one of his art classes. This boy, who immediately took a liking to him, boldly asked Scotty out before class was out of session -- and the date is this evening.

I blink. "Are you gonna go?"

He shrugs. "I might as well, right?" he says, even though his eyes are emphatically saying yes. "You gave me all this confidence," he adds. "Can't let it go to waste."

I can't really pinpoint the primary emotion I'm feeling. There's excitement and pride and sadness and surprise and confusion, all wrapped up in a very disorganized package. I think the realization finally hits me: this is what I signed up for, isn't it? To watch from the sidelines as Scotty makes an impression on other people's lives? I want him to go on dates. I want him to figure out what he likes. I just didn't anticipate it would happen so quickly.

As excited as he is about being asked on his first real date, he's stressed about how he should present himself. For nearly a half hour, he cycles between outfits, asking for my opinion on each one, and although I rate each ensemble positively, he keeps changing. I can see the anxiety growing around him like a cloud with every swap. It's understandable. He's only messed around with one other guy besides me, and both of us are more along the lines of "friends with benefits" than a stranger on a date. This is his first step towards a romantic encounter, and he's feeling the pressure.

Eventually, I make the executive decision on his outfit: a clean pair of jeans and a button-up shirt that's both casual and a little flouncy without being too flashy. To me, it perfectly captures his personality and makes him look good without trying too hard. But it's not just the outfit. I need to give him a pep talk.

I take his hands in my face before he starts to derail. "Breathe," I say calmly, and he looks up at me as he inhales deeply. "Don't stress. The problem isn't going to be you."

He eyes me curiously. "Meaning?"

"He's gonna adore you. No questions asked," I say, and he smiles bashfully. "The problem is gonna be whether or not *you* like him. You have the power here."

He exhales as if relieved. "You always know what to say to calm me down," he murmurs.

I laugh and pat his cheek. "I just speak the truth, kid."

He grins up at me in a pondering sort of way before asking me a question. "Why don't you date?"

I snort. "It's over for me," I tell him.

He frowns. "Don't say that," he says. "You told me you wouldn't give up."

"Did I agree to that?"

He scowls a bit and then hits my arm, making me laugh. "Both of us should have boyfriends by the end of the year," he says.

I smirk. "I'm not shaking on that."

"Come on," he says. "It'll be fun, and you need to get back out there."

If only he knew... "I'm fine," I tell him, and when he gives me a skeptical look, I add, "Really."

"Mkay," he says in an unconvinced tone, but he lets it slide. "Well, cross your fingers that *I* get a boyfriend by the end of the year."

I force a smile. "You got it."

As quickly as he came, he's gone, heading back towards campus to meet up with his date. Over the next hour or so, I feel strangely lonely, in a way I didn't feel when he was going to classes. Getting his education is one thing. Meeting what could be the love of his life is another. I'll be happy for him, but what will that mean for our relationship? Will he forget about me? We all know how it goes: kids leave the nest and rarely ever look back -- and can I really blame him?

Just as I'm pondering all this, my phone starts ringing, and I'm surprised to see that it's Eric. "Hello?" I ask when I pick up the call.

"Antoni!" he says excitedly. "Have you talked to Scotty?"

"About...?"

"His first day!" he says as if it's obvious. "I tried calling him twice but he's not picking up."

"Since when are you so involved?" I tease, grinning.

"Fuck off," he says, making me laugh. "Not having him at home anymore feels weird. I actually miss him."

"Don't say that like it's a surprise," I say.

"You know what I mean," he mutters.

"Well... he's on a date, if you must know," I tell him, bracing myself for his response.

There's a pause before Eric speaks up. "A date?"

"Mhm. With a college boy," I add, wondering how he'll take this information. Before his daughter came out as gay, he was terrified about her dating, and the relief he felt when she confessed that she's only into girls was comical. However, with Scotty being out and proud, Eric has transferred some of his worries about his daughter to his son.

"It's only been one day!" Eric says, almost outraged.

"I said the same thing," I mutter.

Eric just sighs. "Jesus. Keep an eye on him for me, will you?"

"What do you think I've been doing?"

"I just mean with this whole dating thing," he says. "I can't be there to... to vet his boyfriends. You gotta handle that."

"He's not as soft as you think he is," I remind Eric. "He can handle himself."

"He's my little boy," Eric says defensively. "You know how I feel about him dating men. We're the worst."

"Speak for yourself," I say, grinning. "I'm pretty tame."

Eric scoffs. "Pffft. You're just as much of a bastard as I am." Then, he switches gears. "Are *you* dating?"

"Me? Yeah right," I say.

"C'mon, man. You can't do this whole sad lone wolf thing forever."

I narrow my eyes. "First Scotty grills me and now you?"

"We're just looking out for you," Eric says confidently.

Little does he know the only person I want is his son. No one else would feel right, and unless someone pretty mind-blowingly spectacular comes along and demands my attention, I doubt that that will ever change.

~ ~ ~

Autumn flies by, and Scotty and I both have late-year birthdays just around the corner. Scotty's up first. During his first semester at college, he hasn't had much opportunity to visit his parents yet. They wanted to hold off, anyway, granting him the space to enjoy his first taste of college without his parents breathing down his neck. They are incredibly excited to see him, though -- and that feeling is reciprocated.

He wanted something simple for his birthday: dinner at one of his favorite restaurants with me, his parents, and his sister, Eliza, who I haven't seen much of the past half a year or so due to her being off at college. She made time to visit for her little brother's birthday, so it'll be good to catch up with her.

But, as we're making the drive towards his family, Scotty mentions something about his sister. "Just FYI," he says, "I told Eliza about us."

My body jolts so hard I nearly turn the steering wheel abruptly. "You *what*?" I demand, glancing over at him.

"She's not gonna tell anybody," he says. "And focus on the road."

"What the hell did you tell her?!"

"Just, you know, that I lost my virginity to you," he says with a slight smile, "and that you have been, uh... making sure that virginity remains lost."

I sigh heavily through my nose, my heart pounding. All the excitement I felt about seeing Eliza has evaporated, replaced with dread. "Jesus Christ," I whisper, gripping the steering wheel tightly and shifting uncomfortably in my seat. What does she think?

He answers my question as if reading my mind. "To be honest, she was surprised it hadn't happened sooner," he teases.

"I hate you right now," I mutter, and Scotty just laughs, placing a hand on my arm.

"Consider it revenge for telling my dad that I'm dating," he says, "which I'm still mad about, by the way." Ever since I let that spill, Eric's been on Scotty's case about boys.

"Was I supposed to lie and say you *aren't* whoring around?" Scotty's head whips around and he gives me a pointed look. "I'm *kidding*."

"You're so mean to me," he says.

"I am not," I say defensively, and when I see he's just smiling, I reach over and grab his thigh to tickle him. He scream-laughs, swatting my hand away.