Chapter 27 Miguel

Miguel blinked in surprise as they pulled into the driveway. A grand, two-story colonial with a manicured lawn greeted him. It wasn't just an enormous home; it radiated an air of old money, the kind whispering of generations of success. Compared to the cramped Brooklyn apartment where he had grown up, it looked like a palace.

The home, a short walk from Princeton University, was grander than anything Miguel had ever seen. The moment he walked inside, he was struck with such amazement his jaw almost hit the floor. Polished hardwood floors stretched throughout the entrance hall, reflecting the sparkling crystal chandelier overhead. The air smelled faintly of lemon polish and something Miguel couldn't quite place.

"Damn, this is really something," Miguel said, not knowing how this could be his Daddy Shamus's home. He stood in awe as he looked at the grand, lovely home.

"It has undergone some major changes since I bought it."

"Who turned the air on?" Miguel worried someone was inside.

"I did. I turned it on from my phone before we left."

"Do you clean this house?"

"No, of course not. You've seen my apartment. Dana, my housekeeper, cleans when I'm away. She never knows when I'll pop in, so she keeps it clean and ready to live in."

Growing up, Miguel saw firsthand the hard work and dedication his mother put into her job as a housekeeper. Why didn't he realize Daddy Shamus had so much money? He never flaunted it, but he spent money on him. That should have alerted him. He hoped Daddy Shamus didn't think he only had relationships with sugar daddies, which wasn't what his Daddy Shamus was to him.

"Are you surprised I can live in a clean home?"

"Well, yes, I mean compare your summer apartment to this," he teased, recalling the laid-back atmosphere of the Seaside Heights apartment.

"That's true. I work and paint at home. I earn decent money at the bar and from teaching. You know I couldn't keep this place up without Dana."

"But everything is in place. Nothing out of order."

"Right now, it is. I'm not living here. When I move back, then the mess begins. Once a week, Dana comes with a few helpers and cleans up the messes I make."

Everywhere Miguel looked, meticulous order reigned. A perfectly symmetrical arrangement of fresh flowers sat on a polished mahogany table. Paintings of muted landscapes adorned the walls, their colors echoing the plush emerald-green rug beneath his feet. Miguel, who lived in a dorm room perpetually teetering on the edge of chaos, ran a finger along the spotless banister. Not a speck of dust dared to settle there.

"Your home is amazing, Daddy Shamus," Miguel said. "Who decorated it?"

Shamus shrugged, a hint of sheepishness in his smile. "I did. The place was empty when I bought it."

This serene, sophisticated mansion felt like a different planet altogether. A strange conflict settled in Miguel's gut. The Daddy Shamus he knew wouldn't be caught dead amidst such order and luxury. Yet here he was.

"Don't worry about anything, love. I'm the same Daddy Shamus from Seaside Heights."

"I'm worried you'll think I was looking for a sugar daddy."

"Why would I think that? You first loved me living in a messy apartment over a bar. I also know that isn't who you are."

"It just freaked me out, that's all. How perfect everything is."

"Get over it. I love you too much for you to freak out over the petty stuff."

"Give me time." Miguel hugged him.

"Let me show you around."

Miguel trailed Daddy Shamus through a doorway curtain made of brightly colored beads to the kitchen. Where the rest of the house was illuminated by a soft glow that banished any hint of darkness, the kitchen, in contrast, blazed with light, thanks to walls painted in fiery turquoise and crimson. Terracotta tiles and hanging plants with cascading vines added to the vibrant, almost Mexican feel.

"Whoa!" Miguel took in the bright colors. The air in the room was tinged with the zesty fragrance of freshly cut limes.

Daddy Shamus laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. " Bienvenidos a mi cocina, " he said. "I know how to cook excellent Mexican food in here."

"I didn't think you cooked so much as made drinks." He wandered over to a counter where a chipped ceramic bowl overflowed with ruby-red apples. Picking one up, he polished it absentmindedly on his shirt and bit into it.

"I'm on vacation from all that in the summer. I usually cook for myself."

"Didn't your last boy live with you?"

"No. That relationship wasn't as intense as ours. He must have felt it, and left, but I have you now."

Miguel bent over the kitchen sink and looked through the window. The impressive sight of Princeton University filled his view. Daddy Shamus slowly moved closer, planting a gentle kiss on Miguel's neck before making his way up to his face.

"And I have you for my daddy. You were right about your home being a walking distance from the university. I can see it from here." Yes, he'd love to live here with Daddy Shamus, but would his mother approve? She would have to get to know him. He remembered Daddy Shamus said Uncle Javier was okay with him moving into his apartment, but it didn't mean his mother would also agree when he returned to school.

Daddy Shamus reached into a red refrigerator. "Want a beer?" His voice was muffled by the fridge door.

"Yes! I'm legal now."

Daddy Shamus handed Miguel the bottle of beer, and the sound of caps popping off filled the room.

"Let's sit on the stools and talk," Daddy Shamus suggested.

They made their way over to the kitchen bar, beers in hand.

"I'm going to make you all three meals tomorrow."

"That sounds delicious."

"Are you excited about the party?"

"Yes, I can't wait to be your kitty. What if we meet someone at the party we know?"

"What does that matter? They're there too. No judgments at those parties, but you will meet new guys who have a daddy like you do. I already know most of the daddies."

"I never thought of that." Miguel yawned.

"Ready for bed?"

Miguel nodded. They left the beer bottles on the kitchen bar, which made Miguel feel he was with his Daddy Shamus from Seaside Heights.

They walked up the creaking stairs, the scent of old books clinging to the carpet. Daddy Shamus's bedroom door swung open, revealing a sanctuary of emerald and onyx. The large window showcased the Gothic architecture of Princeton University sprawled across the view.

The walls were painted a deep forest green, the color of Christmas trees. A worn black leather armchair sat near the window. Black furniture, a sturdy desk piled with Daddy Shamus's clutter of books and papers, and a four-poster bed with a matching plaid comforter anchored the space.

On the opposite wall, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf overflowed with worn art books and leather-bound classics, highlighting a different version of the man. A single green lamp cast a soft pool of light across a well-worn reading chair tucked into the corner, a half-finished mystery novel lying open on its armrest.

"Are you going to sleep in your clothes, love?" Daddy Shamus asked.

"I'm so tired I can barely move." Miguel yawned again.

Daddy Shamus helped Miguel sit on the edge of the bed. "I'll help you out." He removed Miguel's shoes and socks, and then undressed him completely, before gently tucking him in, making sure the covers were snug around him.

Daddy Shamus leisurely undressed, allowing his clothes to cascade onto the plush carpet beside Miguel's. Leaving things on the carpet seemed to be a habit of his Seaside Heights daddy and this Princeton one. Happiness filled Miguel's heart as he realized his daddy hadn't changed from the person he had fallen in love with. As he slipped under the covers beside him, Miguel could feel the comforting warmth of his Daddy Shamus's skin.

Miguel enjoyed the powerful arms that looped around him. "I need you inside me, Daddy Shamus. Please." Miguel wanted everything to be like it was in Seaside Heights.

"And here I thought you were too tired to undress," Daddy Shamus playfully teased with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He squeezed Miguel's thin waist, guiding him to face the crisp white sheets. He reached for a bottle of lube in the end table drawer and poured a generous amount of it onto his fingers. He carefully pushed a finger inside, rotating it in a circular motion to loosen and prepare him. He added two more fingers to give him a good stretch, which hit against Miguel's prostate.

Miguel's cock hardened in a matter of moments; his arousal was undeniable. It took little to get Miguel sexually excited. Daddy Shamus removed his fingers and prepared a condom, carefully applying lubrication.

"I really need your cock inside me," Miguel whispered.

"I need to be inside you, love." Daddy Shamus positioned himself over Miguel, his firm shaft eagerly entering the opening, and he continued to push until he was completely engulfed.

Miguel felt the entire length of Daddy Shamus's cock all the way along his tunnel; the walls tingled and burned at once. He loved the feeling of warmth and hardness, the motion of Daddy Shamus's steel cock moving in and out. The tempo became faster and harder as he pumped. The friction inside hitting his prostate was the only care Miguel wanted at the moment. Daddy Shamus's balls were warm and silky soft when their bodies touched.

"Push your ass out further, boy."

Miguel lifted his ass up as Daddy Shamus placed a pillow under his stomach. Being called boy or love by Daddy Shamus always made him feel like he held a special place in his heart.

"That's it. I'm going to bang the cum out of you."

"Do it," Miguel said, pushing his ass up and back the best he could.

"Keep pushing back to meet me, you horny boy."

"Only for you, my daddy."

"You want my big dick, don't you?"

"Always."

"Give your ass to me. Push back harder, love."

He thrust into Miguel, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the room, before gradually slowing his rhythm. As he turned them on their sides, he skillfully continued the pattern of pumping, elevating Miguel's pleasure as he applied lube to Miguel's erection and stroked his cock. Miguel met each thrust as if Daddy Shamus had ordered him to please him in that manner.

"Oh, love. You feel so warm inside."

"I could get spoiled if we did this every night."

"That's what I like about you. You show your appreciation for my dick in your ass. You get me more than you think."

"I'm a dick pleaser, but only yours."

Daddy Shamus fisted Miguel's cock, milking him until he was ready to shoot. He wanted to wait for Daddy Shamus's order. His heavy breathing and faster thrusts told him Daddy Shamus would be ready soon.

Daddy Shamus panted, "Fuck. Your ass is perfect for me." He came inside his condom.

Miguel shot warm cum into Daddy Shamus's hand. He wiped it on Miguel's ass while they panted, then Daddy Shamus pulled out of him. He wiped Miguel's ass and cock, then flipped him onto his back.

Daddy Shamus planted warm kisses all over his face. He moved his tongue inside Miguel's mouth, and their tongues battled with passion.

Daddy Shamus slid out of bed, threw his condom away in the trash can, and fetched two large white towels. Miguel stood beside him, and they cleaned off before sitting on the bed alongside each other.

Daddy Shamus stared into Miguel's eyes and smiled. With one hand, he ran his fingers through Miguel's hair and gently guided his face closer, eventually leaning Miguel's head on his chest. His other arm wrapped around him, wanting Miguel to feel safe with him.

They slipped under the covers and Miguel slid into Daddy Shamus's arms.

"I want to go to bed like this every night."

"Me, too," Miguel said.