Chapter 9 CASPIAN
Daddy lifted me up into his arms and carried me to his bedroom. It was dark, but empty. He placed me on his actually comfy bed, and I sank into the blankets, feeling absolute pleasure from the softness of it all. I made an angel in the covers, arms and legs up and down.
Daddy watched me, smiling so big. “I’ll go get your night light to see what it does to the room.”
Once he was out of the room, I took the moment alone to look at the pictures on his nightstand, and just as he’d said, one was his sister’s family, and the other was him as a kid.
I knew there was something sore about his relationship with his father, and I wasn’t going to prod that wound open.
I just knew my body would give him extra squeezes—though it wouldn’t make much of a difference because his muscles were so damn hard.
“My sister is the only family that matters,” he said, startling me as he caught me looking at the pictures—like I wasn’t supposed to. “And it’s okay, I’ve processed most of it.”
“Like therapy?” I asked, my jaw tightening, not trying to pry. “Because that’s—”
“Yeah,” he said, his face lit from beneath by the night light in purple. “I think a therapist was the first person I ever said I was gay to. After that, I knew there was nothing wrong with me, but I’ve just kept it to myself because I always feared it was more effort than it was worth.”
“Oh.” I sat upright on the bed to fully see him now in the light.
“Except, and this is going to sound cheesy, but you’ve been hammering away at it,” he said, sitting on the bed. He lay back, looking at the ceiling, and I sat on his belly. “Every single time I saw you in the bakery, every false alarm.”
“Oops, I’m sorry about that. I get distracted, but I’ve been making more of an effort with the timer now,” I told him. “You didn’t get an alarm call today.”
“That’s true,” he said. “Maybe because you already knew I was coming over, so you didn’t need something to get my attention.”
I pulled my knees and legs in at his thighs like he was a horsey and I was telling him to giddy up. “I have all your attention,” I said. “You know what my birthday wish was?”
“Was it for me?” he asked.
My heart raced. “It was for a Daddy.” I quickly hid my face in my arms as heat rushed up, and I squeezed my legs in harder—but I doubt it he actually felt it.
“So, you wished for me,” he said, his hands on my thighs. His big hands could almost wrap around them. “I guess I’ll take it as a compliment, but now I’m wondering if you just made the inevitable happen.”
“I did have you in mind when I wished,” I groaned from under my arms. “But this was after you gave me the blind box teddy.”
Prying my hands from my face, he pulled me down to his chest and my face to his. He now held me in place with his hands around my back. “What if I wished for you when it was my birthday, last week?”
I gasped. “Did you?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t make a birthday wish, they didn’t have any candles for the lasagna cake, but I can imagine if they did, I would’ve wished for you.”
I couldn’t help burrowing my face into his thick chest now, trying my best to get under his shirt and find that furry nest of chest hair, but his T-shirt was tight. I could barely get my hand up.
“You’re gonna tear it,” he said. “Where are you trying to get?”
“Wanna feel you.”
“You wanna know what I actually thought while eating my birthday lasagna?”
I lifted my head for a moment to look at him. “Yeah.”
“I thought, I’d love to have someone in my life, someone who could share my bed, someone who I could be completely true with, and someone I—” He inhaled big, lifting me on his chest with the breath. “I could be a family with.”
I gave him a big kiss, screwing my face against his.
I wasn’t going to let him pull me away—not like he would.
He pressed the back of my head with one hand and brushed my hair back with the other so he could look me in the eye without my hair getting in my face.
When our lips parted, I told him how much I was enjoying our time together—and how after every time he left, I longed for him.
It felt right to bare my soul the way he did, and it created a spark of intimacy I hadn’t felt in—ever.
It was like our butterflies knew each other, they were the same.
* * *
Was this a glimpse into the life we could have together? Part of me hated that I was thinking so far into the future, and another part of me was already planning our marriage and pets. It was all the stuff I knew people did, and yet, I just wanted to be in the moment.
He really had nothing at all, except for beer in the fridge and some ready-made meals in the freezer.
I almost wanted to throw them out. He deserved better food.
I had been a chef for a little while, not making big meals, mostly just sauces and side dishes as I worked beneath the head chef—and then I went into desserts and pastry—but I could pretty much make most things with a recipe.
“I should learn to cook,” Daddy said as we stood in the kitchen, preparing everything for the pizzas.
“You can’t be good at everything,” I said, standing beside him in my onesie, a more comfortable clothing choice.
“Oh, really?” he said. “So you think I’m good at everything except cooking?”
I shrugged. “Feels like a trap, and I’m a good boy.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “So, these pizzas. I know what we need to do, obviously, but if you want to explain it to me, just so I know that you know.”
Giggle-snorting, it was a clever way at helping. “First, we preheat the oven, I think.” I winked at him.
“Of course, and then what do we do?”
“We dust a counter with flour, roll out our dough, and then add the toppings,” I said. “I think.” Another wink had him laughing.
Being able to share something fun like this with him was everything I’d wished for—not in my birthday wish, but in life.
I’d gone to sleep many times after some self-fun time, thinking about what I’d do if I had a Daddy—and what he’d do with me.
Not the spicy bedroom times, but things that happened outside the bedroom.
“Okay, well, first problem, flour,” he said.
“I thought ahead,” I said, quickly going to fetch the bear backpack. Inside it, there was a zip-lock bag filled with flour. I came back, waving it at him and grinning. “It was a very last-minute addition from Toby. I guess I gotta text him now. They had a bet.”
“A bet?” he asked. “And you’re lucky we didn’t get pulled over. That looks suspicious.”
“It’s clearly just regular flour,” I said, opening it and wrinkling my nose as a dusting of flour tickled my nose. “So, I know you know, we put it on a clean counter and we use it to roll out our pizzas on.”
“Roll them,” he said, eyes narrowing as he looked at me.
“Yeah, with a rolling pin.”
He opened a drawer and laughed. “I have one of those.”
“Every home should,” I giggled.
“Naturally.”
We rolled out the pizza dough as I told him we used it for our cinnamon rolls too. And he asked me where those were, since I’d brought ice cream and whipped cream. If I’d brought buttercream, we’d have a trifecta of cream. He was creamy enough for me as it was, though.
The pizzas turned out amazingly. They were tiny personal things with the alphabet spaghetti and sauce as the base, and so much mozzarella cheese over the top, melted to perfection.
I had mine cut into four, and each one had a little space on my plate.
It made my toes curl with excitement that they fit.
We were sitting at his little square table with two chairs. He grabbed the cushion from his armchair sofa and let me sit on it. “I want you to be all comfy,” he said. “And I’m not sure if my lap is available.”
I gasped. “What else is your lap being used for?”
“I meant, with the table, it’s a tight squeeze,” he said. “Oh, fuck.”
“Naughty word.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot your drink. I’ve got you a juice box. Apple. You like the apple one, right?”
“I also brought some!”
“Do you mind if I have a beer?”
I nodded. “Only if I can have a sip.”
“Mhm, just a sip,” he chuckled. “Daddy doesn’t want you getting drunk.”
My body continued to have little moments of intense squeezing as it was filled with uncontrollable excitement.
The fact he engaged with me like this was amazing.
I loved every second of it. It wasn’t easy to find someone who would play this part with me.
Most Daddies out there only wanted the submissive bedroom part.
I waited until Daddy was back with my juice box before we started eating, and I got a sip of his beer. It wasn’t nice—I definitely preferred the adult juice, a.k.a wine. “Yuck,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “That’s dirty.”
“It’s for Daddies only,” he said, taking a swig. “Let’s try these pizzas. I have high hopes.”
Me too. The fact he was going to eat one as well made me happy. He took the first bite of his pizza before I took a bite of mine. I already knew they were good. This wasn’t my first pizza rodeo, I’d ridden this a lot. Except they were often smaller, bite-sized things I had with Toby and Keaton.
“This is good,” he said, swallowing and smacking his lips.
I nodded, still chewing and savoring the taste.
My feelings for this moment were perfection. He allowed me a safe space to play little. I got the sauce from the pizza all over my face, and Daddy pulled napkins from the tissue box on the table and cleaned my mouth after each bite.
“Do you ever wear one of those toddler napkins?” he asked.
“You mean a bib?” I giggled. “I forgot to bring mine.” I could only pout in hopes of forgiveness by being cute.
“Well, next time,” he said. “That’s okay.”
“I forgot how messy pizza can be,” I said with my continued pout.
He wiped around my mouth, clenching the paper into a fist. “How about I feed you the next slice?”
“Yes, please.”
He engaged with the play, flying the airplane of food at me, and making the noises of a motor. “And here it comes, flight number, P-1-Z-Z-4.”
As I chewed on the food, I realized what he was spelling and laughed a little, almost spitting the food out—accidentally.
He had the napkin in his hand ready for any mess I did make.
But it turned out to be a false alarm, although the tomato sauce from the spaghetti stained my lips and around my mouth.
It didn’t stain Daddy’s, though—or get in any of his facial hair. It was a miracle really.
After dinner, we sat on the bed together.
He didn’t have a sofa for us to lounge on, so it was the next best place.
Plus, that’s where my night light was. I had a selection of books ready for us to get through, and a couple of small teddies to scatter around us.
They were the equivalent of rose petals for me, without the smell.
“We didn’t really get through any of these,” he said. “These are adult, right?”
I nodded, getting comfy beside him again.
“Yep, I know they look like kids ones, but they’re never sold to them.
They actually have plastic slips on them with one of those big red circles and the eighteen crossed through it.
It’s like the teddies I was telling you about.
The ones that you can—you know.” I demonstrated with a finger through a tight circle made by my curled index finger.
“And you don’t have the teddy?”
I shook my head. “They’re like a hundred bucks. I’m saving for one.”
“Don’t you get paid a lot from the bakery?”
I continued to shake my head. “Profits split three ways,” I said.
“And then we’ve got to pitch in for the gas and stuff.
” I waved a hand. I didn’t want to get into those technicalities while I was trying to be a cute little.
“But eventually I’ll get one. And I do have money saved, but that’s my rainy day money. ”
He nodded back.
“Plus, the like three-hundred-dollar model is base, and I’d totally want upgrades on mine, like the vibrations, and the squeezing voice thing.”
“It speaks to you?” he asked.
“Well, only if you squeeze, and it’s stuff you can record, so like—a Daddy could be like good boy or something.”
He cuddled me close again. “Sounds like it would be a lot of fun.”
“These books are fun too,” I said. “This one is about an alien who comes to Earth. He’s a little, and he’s looking for a Daddy to teach him how to be human.” It was part of my favorite series of picture books, but they made many different types, all of them spicy.
Daddy read the book to me, almost in shock at some of the pictures—they were explicit. He was definitely getting all hot about it, physically. I think he was sweating, all pushed up on me. Once he closed the book, he yanked my side and rolled me onto his torso.
“You want me to fuck you like that?”
I nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Stay right there.” He rolled me off onto the small collection of teddies.
I wiggled into a space in the center of the bed.
Daddy came back minutes later. He was in his boxers and that tight navy fireman T-shirt. He held the large can of whipped cream in hand, shaking it up. “I want to taste this on you,” he said. “I want to lick and kiss every part of your body.”
My knees knocked together as I let out a gentle moan. “Every part?”
“Yes, baby.”
The moan came right from the pits of my desire. “I’m yours. All yours.”