23. Play
23
Play
A red sauce splotch the size of my fist branched out above my heart. I gasped and fished the spaghetti out of my cleavage, flinging it onto the side of the plate. For Frosty’s sake, couldn’t we have one normal date?
“Ah, one second, I don't want this to stain.” I dashed to the sink to try to salvage my sweater. Based on my experience with messy cousins on spaghetti night, a torn-off paper towel wouldn’t be strong enough to fight marinara.
Harvey’s chair scraped the wood floor as he got up. “What do you need?”
“Cold water and white vinegar.” By the way his footsteps paused, I could tell he didn't have any, so I looked over my shoulder and tried not to shiver as the freezing water soaked through my sweater and trailed down my tummy. “Do you have laundry detergent?”
“Yes.” He got some and came back to help, but I kind of shielded myself from him.
Scraping sauce off my boobs wasn’t exactly sexy. Or cute. And not at all how he should be starting his trial role as Daddy.
The soggy paper towel disintegrated against the sweater.
“I probably need to soak it,” I lamented.
“That’s fine.” Harvey plugged up the sink. “Put your sweater in here. I’ll get you a shirt.”
"Okay." I hoisted the sweater over my head, then draped it into the sink.
Harvey paused, his gaze trailing across my glistening, half-naked body. His pupils swelled, fixed on my chest, which was only half-obscured by my arms as I tried to rub heat back into my skin. But maybe he'd do that for me. All I had to do was lower my arms and step towards him. My nipples hardened and my breath caught as I slowed my movements, caught between two warring urges.
He flushed and glanced beyond me. “I-I’ll get you that shirt.”
I moved my hair to cover my chest. “Oh, sure.” Sure? As if maybe I was fine walking around half-naked until my sweater dried? Why was I so desperate to get naked with him? I covered my face as he walked past me.
After a second of rummaging, he came back with a loose, long-sleeved Henley. “How’s this?”
“Good.” I fiddled with the sleeves, not sure if I should turn away. I wanted him to see me. But I was also shivering and blushing like crazy, and he already kinda turned me down for sexy times in favor of finishing cooking. Now, he busied himself by massaging laundry detergent into my sweater and giving me long sleeves. Did he prefer to go slowly?
I held the shirt against my breasts. “Are you uncomfortable with sexy things this early?”
Harvey chuckled. “No.”
My shoulders sagged. “Why did you look away then?”
“I’ll tell you when I’m not so distracted.” He wiped his hands on a towel, then flipped the shirt around, easing me into it.
The cotton hung loose and comfy around my curves. I spun around, letting the hem flare.
Harvey flicked his lip piercing with his thumb, his eyes twinkling. “You’re so cute.”
“Cute?” Not sexy?
Smirking, he closed the distance between us. “You’re hot as hell, too. I want to look at, touch, and taste every inch of you.”
Well, I could be dessert. “What’s stopping you?”
He twisted my hair around his fingers. “You need more than a quick lay. You need a Daddy.”
My kneecaps melted faster than marshmallows in hot cocoa. I swayed, gently holding onto him. “I want both. Now, please.”
He smirked. “Good thing you found me.”
Maybe Santa was rewarding me tenfold for being good this year. “What do you need, Harvey?”
“I have a feeling it’s looking right at me.”
I pressed my face against his chest to suppress a giggle, not sure if I wanted to kiss him or jump him. Would he carry me around the apartment?
“What do you want first: Little or Big time?” He smoothed the shirt along my spine.
I wiggled my hips and gazed up at him. “We can play for a little bit. But that means you’re in charge of my sweater.”
“I think I can handle that," he said.
“Yes, but can you handle me?” I flounced to the table and got our plates.
A bewildered smile stretched his cheeks. “What are you doing?”
“If you want to lure out my Little side, we should watch cartoons while we eat. Do you think the Claymation specials will be on?”
“You see those every day.” He poked a few remotes to get the TV set up.
“So? They’re fun.” There wasn’t a couch anywhere, so I sat on the plaid bedspread.
“Not on the bed,” he warned.
“Fine.” I slid down to the hardwood floor and stuck my tongue out at him.
He laid a napkin and our plates on the floor. “Wait, you have a sippy cup in your car, right? Do you want me to get that?”
“Yes, please.” My cheeks flamed. I wanted to hug him, but had to settle for a nearby pillow.
Harvey was being so nice to me. He took my keys and came back with my whole emergency stash.
“Mr. Waddles.” I pushed my pasta aside to hug my fluffy friend. “This is the best dinner party ever.”
“Do you think we have room for one more guest?” Harvey pulled a magnificent, small dog plushie out from behind his pillows. It was so old, the fur had compacted to the body. It had kind eyes. The mouth was stitched as a smile-like “v.” He was amazing. “This is Doggie. I’ve had him since I was a baby.”
“Doggie, I’m Shelby. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I wasn’t sure if I should pat his head or shake his paw, so I did both, then lifted my penguin. “This is Mr. Waddles. He’s from the North Pole. We’re watching a movie set in his homeland, but now he stays with me. Do you like living with Harvey?”
“I think he tolerates me nicely.” Harvey settled in beside me. “Can you keep Doggie company while I eat? Just be careful with him. He’s elderly.”
“I’m sensitive too, don’t worry.” I set up the plushies so they could see the TV. Doggie was soft and sweet. I smiled, my heart fluttering at the much-loved fur under my fingers. Harvey kept an old friend, just like me.
“Do you need anything else? You know, to get…comfortable?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Mm-mm. I don’t use a binky because Mom spent too much fixing my teeth.” I showed them off in a silly grin, making Harvey laugh, before I had another forkful of spaghetti. “Just let me be me. You focus on nurturing. Lots of kisses. Spank me if I’m naughty.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s what you want? No time outs or anything?”
“Spanking would relieve more stress, I think. Especially with aftercare, where you rub the smack spot.” Part of the joy of age play was someone taking care of me. Since I’d never done it with somebody, that part was a little fuzzy. But now I had Harvey. Maybe he was the missing piece I needed to be happy.
Of course, my job and my family were growing increasingly unsteady, so maybe I needed a few more things.
Ugh, that was too Big to think about. I sucked on my sippy cup and cuddled up to Harvey and the stuffies. They loved me. I loved them. Like that purple dinosaur used to sing about with his friends. Yeah, Harvey meant more to me than a friend, but in this state, I didn’t want to complicate things. I was safe and happy.
He squirmed and grabbed a pillow to put at our backs. “You prefer this to the table and chairs? I could’ve angled the TV.”
“It’s too far away now. You should let me on the bed.” I laid my cheek on his arm and batted my eyelashes up at him.
“After,“ he promised, kissing my forehead. “Not with marinara involved.”
The warmth left behind by his lips curled my toes in the best way. I hugged our friends and Harvey’s arm to try and keep the love in.
“So cute,” he muttered, dabbing my lips with a napkin.
He liked it. He liked me . Even my Little tendencies.
I wiggled under the pretense of dancing to the song emanating from the TV. This was the best. We ate and chatted through the holiday special, my tendencies flowing from Little to Big. During some songs, I acted out the lyrics or made commentary with our plushies.
Harvey nudged my foot. “Maybe you like these movies because they’re often about someone’s differences being a good thing.”
“They can be.” I curled my legs over Harvey’s lap and played with Doggie’s ears. It was nice to know we had some similarities.