Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I was going to have to explain it to Leander once I figured out what else a Daddy could fix before he wasn’t a stranger.
“No. You’re not a stranger.” Because he’d fixed a lot of stuff and he’d given me cheek kisses and neck kisses and an orgasm. So no matter what rules we followed, it was all set. “You’re Daddy.”
“That’s right.” Daddy took my hand and started dragging me through the house. “And I’ve been a very patient Daddy.”
Maybe?
“If I can see you orgasm, then I can see your toys.” Daddy’s head cocked. “Your little toys. I’ve already seen the big ones.”
My big ones came in all sizes and that made me giggle.
“You know what I meant.” Daddy tried to huff but he looked like he wanted to giggle too. “Silly boy.”
“Daddy’s silly.” He made me laugh. “I’ll show silly Daddy my toys.”
Or he’d pout.
He needed to see he was more special than the plumber.
“That’s a very good plan.” Daddy finally stopped at the playroom door and waited. “I’m not supposed to open the door. That was the rule you gave us when we started working on the kitchen.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Daddy remembered the rules. “New Daddy rule. You can open the door. But just you since you’re not a stranger.”
Daddy nodded but froze as he reached for the door and pulled his hand back. “Are the rest of the guys still strangers?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Maybe?”
Instead of pouting, Daddy nodded. “We’ll talk about the rules for what makes a stranger and then we’ll figure it out together.”
Oh, that was a good plan.
“Okay.” Tugging on Daddy’s hand, I pointed to the door. “You get to open it.”
Daddy gave me a big smile and kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”
He knew he was special now.
“You’re welcome, Daddy.” And I was special because I used good manners…and I was even more special when I waited and waited for Daddy to open the door. “My toys.”
Daddy chuckled. “It’s the only room in the house that’s neat.”
It was okay to ignore that since it was true. “I’ve got lots of toys, Daddy.”
And since everyone knew just showing off the toys didn’t make someone little, I wiggled past Daddy and dragged him inside the playroom. “I’ve got trucks and ponies and books and stuffed animals and my bear and the crayons you got me and a chair. That’s your chair.”
He didn’t sit fast enough, so I helped him. “There you go.”
I was a great helper and Daddy even sucked in a breath he was so excited for my help. “You get to sit there and read me books and cuddle me and watch me and nod while I play. Leander said that’s what most Daddies in a playroom do but I’ve never had a Daddy in mine because most of them are kind of frustrating and bad bossy.”
Daddy cocked his head. “We’ll talk about being bad bossy later, but right now I’d love to see your toys, and if you want, I’ll read you a book.”
Before I could tell him that I wasn’t little, he remembered and held up his hands. “Just for practice. We’ll try it now while you’re not little and then you can tell me if we did it right for when you are little.”
Oh, that was good logic.
“I can help you.” I was a good helper. “Practice makes perfect.”
“I’m glad you understand.” Daddy nodded like we’d made a good decision for the kitchen and looked around. “You’ve got a lot of fun toys.”
“Littles got to have toys for every mood. Even Leander knows that and he’s stubborn.” And bossy and dramatic. “So I have army men and alien soldiers and ponies.”
Hmm…I had lots to show Daddy.
“I’ve got real-looking ponies and the magic kind because sometimes you need magic ponies to fight the aliens.” Regular ones got scared of the aliens. “Then I got bears and cuddly things just in case it’s binkies and snuggles kind of little playtime. There’s lots of kinds. Did you know that?”
Picking up the bear Daddy had given me, I went over to my books. “Some Daddies don’t like the all-kinds kind of little but you said you like variety. Like cookies. But you don’t like raisins. So is there a raisin kind of little?”
“They’re evil.” Daddy’s face scrunched up. “That’s not the same thing.”
Yep, he was just as dramatic as Leander.
“There are no raisin littles. Even brats aren’t raisins.” Daddy shivered. “Please don’t make me say that word again.”
“Okay, Daddy.” Grabbing a book, I helped distract Daddy by climbing on his lap. “But are littles who play with aliens and ponies naughty cookie things?”
I ‘membered not to say the bad word and Daddy relaxed and wrapped his arms around me. “Nope.”
That was good.
“Are littles who have diapers and binkies naughty cookie things?” I was going to be patient because I was a good boy, but Daddy shook his head right away as he took the book.