9. Everett
EVERETT
The domino run was a work of art, and I told them so. Twice.
Trace walked me through the whole route on his hands and knees as they built it. Connor followed behind him adding commentary while I sat back and enjoyed the show. They giggled and talked over each other, both happy to have a captive audience to share their masterpiece with.
"Okay." Trace looked up at me from the floor, practically vibrating with excitement. "You have to count us down."
"Me?" I pointed at my chest dramatically. They were so cute.
"Yes, you're our guest. It's the rules." Connor had his hand positioned to push down that first domino as soon as I gave him the cue. “Let’s go!”
I got down on my knees by the end piece and started to count. "Three. Two. One."
Trace squealed as Connor tipped the first domino, and then the only sound in the room was the rapid clicking of plastic as the line snaked its way across the living room.
It went around the couch leg and over a little cardboard bridge.
By the kitchen doorway, the last fifty or sixty pieces fanned out in a spiral and dropped until it was all over.
Both boys exploded off the floor at the same time, screaming and jumping in a circle with an unfiltered joy I couldn’t remember ever feeling as an adult. It was a beautiful thing.
I applauded from the floor, hooting to make sure they knew how much I appreciated the moment.
"Did you see the bridge part?" Trace spun toward me with flushed cheeks. "Did you see it?"
I placed my hand on his cheek and smiled with my whole heart. "I saw it, sweet boy. That was so cool."
"That was MY part," Connor announced. "I engineered that."
"Then you're both geniuses, and the world isn't ready for you." I wanted to pull Trace to my chest and kiss him all over but I was trying to be fair to both. Just because I wasn’t Connor’s Daddy didn’t mean I would ignore him or let him feel left out. That just wasn’t my style.
As soon as they started cleaning up the dominoes, it was my cue to head out.
I’d colored and watched a movie…and even ate the gross but actually delicious burnt almond cupcake so the boys didn’t have to be offended by it.
The domino run was the last piece I wanted to stay for while still honoring Connor's rule about not taking over their night.
And I was a bit of a distraction to both of them.
Trace walked me to the door while Connor pretended not to watch us from the couch.
"Thank you for letting me crash your party." I kept my voice low as I brushed the hair off his forehead. “I had a great time.”
"Us too. And thank you for the cupcakes…and crayons…and for being..." He waved a hand vaguely at all of me. "Ya know. You."
"Good night, sweet boy. Text me before you go to bed." I tipped his chin up with one finger and leaned in for a brief kiss. “And pace yourself on the cupcakes so you don’t get a tummy ache.”
"Yes, Daddy." He spoke quietly, still a little shy about using the endearment even though it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
“Lock up behind me.” I kissed Trace's forehead one last time and let myself out.
On the drive home, I replayed pieces of the night and how much joy was encompassed within the walls of that small apartment.
I hadn’t been on the floor with any kind of toy, much less a crayon, in decades.
But it was really fun to play alongside the boys.
The way Trace's whole face changed when he was deep in his own joy was magical.
But there was one thing that surprised me…in an interesting way.
Connor was diapered under his pajamas.
I wasn’t sure at first, but when he was sprawled on the floor working on the domino run, the soft crinkle of the padding was unmistakable.
The best part was that he didn’t seem to be self-conscious about it in the slightest. It was just part of Connor's Little time, no different than the sippy cups in the rack by Trace's sink.
I turned that over for most of the drive.
Trace hadn't been wearing one, and I subtly checked by sneaking an ass grab when Connor was distracted. But I couldn’t help wondering if he might want to.
I didn’t have much experience with ABDL but I was definitely intrigued. Not just by the mechanics of it but the level of surrender that was required by the boy. If Trace allowed me to support him in the most vulnerable acts and trusted me to make him feel safe, that would be the ultimate gift.
I could only aspire to be the man Trace trusted enough to diaper him.
The want that came with that thought had an overpowering weight to it.
By the time I walked into my house, I was hard as a rock and needed to take the edge off.
After pouring myself a glass of water, I grabbed my laptop and took it to the couch.
I hadn’t watched any porn in a while, but I knew exactly which site to visit for videos of Daddies and Littles.
There was an entire category for guys who allowed their Daddies to help them with diaper changes, bathtimes, and bottles of milk.
Every act was sweet and loving, performed by someone who clearly loved the boy under his hands.
I only lasted long enough to get through a few short videos, but that was to be expected with the memory of Trace calling me Daddy still fresh in my mind.
Then I took a shower and got into bed with a book that wasn’t great at distracting me from the text I was desperately waiting for. The text that came in a little after eleven.
The first thing I saw when I opened the message was a photo of Trace and Connor in a blanket fort built on Trace's bed. There were walls of pillows and couch cushions as both boys waved to the camera in their matching jammies. At least a dozen stuffies were packed in around them, keeping them company. The twin Connor Cows were front and center, propped up between the twin boys’ feet.
Trace was mid laugh as Connor held out the phone to take the picture. Good night, Daddy. Wish you were here.
I wished I was there too. I looked at that photo for too long before finding the resolve to respond so we could all get some sleep. Best fort I've ever seen. Sleep well, sweet boy. XO
On Sunday afternoon, I pulled up outside Trace’s building at three on the dot, and he was already waiting on the front step.
“Hi!” He climbed into my car wearing a baggy hoodie and the happy demeanor of someone coming off a great weekend. "I couldn’t wait, so I’ve been outside for five minutes."
"Hi, baby." I leaned across the console and kissed him before he put on his seatbelt. "Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s okay. I’m just excited to see you.” It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, but I could totally relate. I missed him too.
When he was settled in, I put the car back in drive. “How was the rest of the sleepover?"
"Perfect. Connor didn't leave until noon, and we had cupcakes for breakfast…and brunch."
"Of course you did." I chuckled, making a mental note to never bring home a dozen cupcakes in the future. “I hoped you brushed your teeth after each one.”
"Ewww, no. Morning and night. That’s when I brush unless I have onions or garlic." He shifted in the seat so he was looking at me. "Where’re we going? You said tacos, but you had a cryptic vibe about it."
I grinned and waggled my eyebrows, happy to keep him on his toes. "You’re about to eat from the best taco truck in the city. It's a fifteen-minute drive but worth every minute."
And it was. Holy Guacamole was family-owned and deliciously authentic. We each ordered a three pack and ate at a picnic table next to the truck. While Trace worked his way through a carnitas taco, I inhaled an al pastor.
Even better than the food was the animated conversation.
Trace relayed every minute of their night after I left with hand gestures and facial expressions and the sweetest-sounding giggles I’d ever heard.
He wasn’t in his Little headspace, but he was definitely comfortable enough to be silly with me.
“You gonna finish your horchata?” He glanced at my cup and gave me puppy-dog eyes.
“Well, not anymore.” I pretended to be sad about it as I slid my cup toward him.
Trace wasn’t the least bit sorry for me as he sucked down a huge drink and then reached for a chip. “Mmm, that’s so good. Do you know how to make horchata?”
“I haven’t tried it, but I’m sure I can find a recipe.” I dipped a chip in salsa and then popped it into my mouth. “Maybe we can try it on Taco Tuesday?”
His eyes went wide in excitement. “We can have Taco Tuesday? I always wanted a Taco Tuesday.”
That warmed my heart but also made me a little sad. There were so many things that Trace had yet to experience. And I was so damn grateful to the bone to help him do it. “Then it’s a date. Again.”
I could have sat at that sticky picnic table for the rest of my life, but after we were both done eating, the air between us seemed to heat up by the second.
"So." Trace wadded up his napkin and piled it on his plate. "Is this the part where you take me home and have your way with me?"
"That depends." I stood up and grabbed all of our trash. "You up to checking out my place?"
His eyes came up slowly as he bit his lip. "Yes, please. I wanna see yours."
I took him straight to my place and gave him a quick tour so he knew where the important things were. Things like the toilet and fridge. Trace ran his fingers over everything we passed, looking impressed but also impatient.
The second we were in my room, Trace’s hands moved under my shirt as I placed my mouth on his neck. We stumbled to my bed in a tangle but not in a hurry. We had all the time in the world, but neither one of us was about to waste it.
“Please tell me you have protection.” Trace yanked his shirt off over his head as he toed off his shoes.
“I do.” I was taking off my shirt when he dropped his pants and hopped on the bed with his bottom in the air. It was a pretty picture that was seared into my brain.
I moved slowly and deliberately as I undressed for my boy. His cock was pointing straight at me, and he lazily held it, teasing the tip with his fingertip and stroking every few seconds.
When I was fully naked, I pulled the lube and rubbers out of my nightstand and then kissed my way up his body. “You’re so beautiful.”
"Daddy, please." He reached for his ass and pulled one of his cheeks, making it very clear where he wanted my attention. “I need you for real this time.”
"I've got you, baby." I got into position behind him and lifted his ass higher so he was on his knees and bent elbows. The view was perfect, but the taste was even better when I leaned in and licked across his hole.
Trace moaned and pushed back so my tongue could go deeper. “More.”
I gave him more. More of my tongue and then quickly followed with slicked fingers. I pushed inside him, stretching his tight muscle ring as I teased his balls. Each finger that entered him made his cock drip with precome and his breathing stutter with need.
When neither of us could wait any longer, I rolled the condom on and loaded up with more lube before I slowly pushed into him.
Trace lowered his head to the mattress, giving me complete control and submission to fuck into him. The moan that rolled out of him when I was as far as I could get was the best sound I'd ever heard in this house. In that one breathy cry, ten years of solitude were instantly erased.
Our bodies moved together in a slow rhythm. He pushed and I pulled and then we met in the middle. When Trace was close and a steady stream of precome was dripping from his dick, I flipped him over and reentered him with a quick thrust. I wanted to watch his face as he came apart for me.
And I wanted him to see me do the same for him.
“I’m gonna come, Daddy!” His legs wrapped around me and his hands gripped my shoulders.
“Me too, baby. Come for me.”
He was such a good boy, shooting his load like a geyser that splashed across both of our chests and bellies.
I gave him a few seconds to breathe before I started thrusting faster, flying over the edge of pleasure myself as I filled the condom inside him. Both of us were shaking and panting, but the drunk smile on his face told me everything I already knew.
This boy was it for me. I just hoped he felt the same way about me.