11. Eli
11
ELI
There was something so peaceful, calming, and safe about falling asleep in Daddy’s arms. Most nights it took me a while to succumb to sleep, and of course, I needed my stuffie before I could even try. My mind wasn’t great about shutting down for the night, no matter what I tried.
But with Daddy here, his warm embrace enveloping me and an exhausting couple rounds of awesome naked fun, I slipped into a deep sleep quickly. I’d been talking to him about a new waffle maker I saw online that had a bunny design in it, and then suddenly I was in dream land.
Even though I fell asleep on him, he was still looking out for me. When I woke up, my bunny was in my arms and I was in Daddy’s. The only explanation was that Daddy had gotten it for me, knowing I would want it. We didn’t know each other well, but he looked after me with such care. I was falling hard.
Blinking a few times to adjust my eyes, I glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser. I learned long ago that if I didn’t have something loud and requiring me to get out of bed, I was going to sleep through every alarm. This one could wake a neighborhood.
3:02. It was nowhere near time to get up yet, but unfortunately, my body said I needed to at least hit the restroom. I may have fallen asleep once, but once I got out of bed, I was usually done for. Oh well, at least I was refreshed.
I set my bunny down, climbed out of bed as carefully as I could, and took care of business.
When I came back in, Daddy was sitting up. Crap. I woke him.
“You’re awake, sweet boy.” His sleepy voice was somehow sexier than his everyday one. How was that even possible?
“Yes, Daddy. Sorry I woke you. I needed to use the bathroom.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He patted the spot beside him in bed and slid down, making sure my Daddy-pillow was ready for me.
I padded over, and the entire time he watched me, studied me. As I climbed into bed he asked, “Do you wake up every night?”
Coming from a random date, that would have been an odd question. But from a Daddy, it was sweetness. Mason was looking out for me, taking care of me, trying to see if there was an issue that needed to be addressed. And in this case, there wasn’t. I just drank too much milk before I fell asleep, and I’d never be mad at that.
“Not usually, but I usually don’t sleep as hard as I did either.” I wasn’t going to mention the milk. I never wanted him to feel bad about sharing his with me. “Even with getting up, it’s already the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.”
His face said he didn’t like the sound of that. Oops.
I grabbed my bunny and hugged him close. “Thank you for getting him for me.”
“Anything you need, sweet boy. Always.” It was too soon for always and forever, but also, there was a truth to his words.
I laid down and cuddled into Daddy.
“You know, if you get up a lot at night when we’re together, it might be a good idea for us to try diapers so you don’t have to worry about it.”
I popped my head up, my jaw dropping. Really? How had I not seen where his line of questioning was going. Diapers weren’t something I disliked. In fact, I quite enjoyed it. It allowed me to fall into Little space deeply, but for some reason, I didn’t think he’d be into it.
I wasn’t into round-the-clock age play. That wasn’t something I needed all the time, or even wanted. But every once in a while, it was nice to have that freedom to fall so deeply into Little space that I didn’t need to worry about a single thing, not even using the bathroom.
“Yeah, maybe we can do that one day. I don’t need it, but it could be nice.” I glanced up at him, trying to meet his eyes, the darkness thwarting me. “I mean, if you want.”
“I want to do whatever makes my sweet boy happy.” He pressed an awkward kiss to the top of my head. “Now get some sleep. You had a lot of exercise last night and have to be exhausted still.”
I blushed at the memory of the exercise in question.
And this time, when I settled back to go to sleep, I couldn’t, because my mind was thinking about adorable diapers and how snug I’d feel in them after Daddy cleaned me up and tucked me inside. How caring he would be if I needed a change. Scenario after scenario played through my head, and that was the enemy of sleep.
“My sweet boy, you’re not sleeping.”
“I know, Daddy. Sometimes my brain doesn’t shut down.” Rarely ever.
“Would some milky help?” His offer shouldn’t have caught me off guard and yet it did.
“You don’t mind?” I didn’t want him to feel like all I wanted him around for was his milk or to make his nipples sore, but now that he mentioned it, my mouth was watering.
“I want nothing more than to provide for you. Take what you need, my sweet boy.”
I didn’t need another invitation. I wrapped my arm around his waist and angled my body so that my mouth came down right at the nipple, licking a circle around it before latching on.
The first time I nursed, I’d been nervous. I worried that I would hurt him or make things weird or do it wrong. But instead, instinctively, my mouth knew exactly what to do. And even now, as I started to draw long pulls of milk, my body started to relax, and as I did, I kept going as if on instinct.
I never got to the other side, instead drifting off, sound asleep as I filled my belly with warm milk and my entire being with the love of my Daddy.
I didn’t wake up again until the morning.
Only this time, I was alone.
There was a brief moment of panic, and then I heard the beep of my waffle maker.
Daddy was cooking me breakfast.
I rushed to clean up enough to go out there, throwing on a pair of joggers, brushing my teeth, that kind of thing. And when I walked out, there he was—plate full of waffles in one hand, coffee and juice on the table, and wearing my favorite thing of all, his smile.
“Good morning, sweet boy. I thought you might be hungry.”
“Waffles are my favorite.”
He chuckled. “I suspected so, since there were three different brands in the freezer, two different brands of mix, and you told me about different kinds of makers.”
“They’re all different,” I said, not even feeling bad about it. People like what they like, and for me, my current hyperfocus for breakfast was waffles.
It was no different than people who had preferences when it came to what kind of bread they ate, or what kind of cheese, or what cuts of meat. For me, waffles were where it was at.
“I should be the one cooking for you. You’re the guest.”
“But I am the Daddy, and Daddies always get to take care of their Little boys.”
“Be careful, a boy could get used to this.”
“That’s the entire point.”