Milk For His Little (The Lactin Brotherhood #12)

9. Kasper

Chapter 9

Kasper

For some reason, after I asked for permission to stroke myself and then come and permission was granted, I felt suddenly—maybe not suddenly, but completely—free to share my feelings and desires with Shawn. I wasn’t about to go professing my love or anything like that, but it made it a lot easier when I wanted to invite him over for a Little night.

He hadn’t been creeped out by my crib. It was one I’d had for many years and was definitely illegal for an actual child now, since the bars weren’t close enough. But it was wooden, folded up, and carried my weight without fear of breaking. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was what I could manage. One day I dreamed of having an actual nursery and a Daddy who would take care of me in it. But that was all it was… a dream.

I’d been nervous to show it to him, but something about hearing his voice always soothed me, and I just pulled it out—and he liked it. It didn’t surprise me that he did. He was Daddy to the core, but at the same time, he did. I expected there to be more questions or something. I wasn’t sure what, but he accepted it so completely right off the bat.

That had me thinking: if he liked that, and he didn’t mind me watching him pump, and he gave me permission to do the things I wanted to do, like jerking off for him to see, then it must be time for us to play in private—at my house. Sure, I could be Little at his place, but this was where all my things were. As far as I knew, he didn’t have any Little things at his place, and that was fine because I had enough for everyone.

Actually, it was better than fine, because even though we hadn’t declared ourselves exclusive, we both had lives before we met. I wasn’t wanting to think of him as having played with anyone else—ever. I was selfish like that. I didn’t share my Daddies—well, maybe for a playdate or during a scene. But even then, I was a little possessive like that.

I called him first thing in the morning and asked if he was okay switching our dinner plans to staying in.

“Are you not feeling well?”

“No, no, I feel great. I just thought maybe we could stay in. And last time I was Little, you were with me, but not with me. I thought this time, you could be with me—like, actually with me.” I sounded ridiculous, but you wouldn’t have known it from the way Daddy responded.

“That makes perfect sense. How about this: if you pick out a game or toy that you want to play with, send me a picture, and I’ll take care of dinner, too.”

I agreed, and we hung up. At first, I thought, “Oh, I’ll just tell him I have everything we need.” But then I wondered if he wanted to bring something because he actually wanted to, or if he was just being nice. So I did what any brave boy would do and sent him a message

Did you want me to pick something out, or did you feel like you were supposed to ask me if I wanted something?

I hit send before I could overthink it, because I would have definitely talked myself out of it. Of course, I would.

He replied right away. I want to bring something regardless, but having it be something you want to do with me would make it more special. The choice is yours.

Gods, the man was a walking green flag. I wasn’t even sure how to handle it.

I went online and found a board game I’d wanted for a while. It had little snails, and you rolled a colored die. I wasn’t sure how much more to it there was than that, but I liked snails, and it looked cute. It was one of those things I’d always thought would be fun to play if I had a Daddy. Well, I had a Daddy who wanted to play with me, and that was close enough.

I’d be lying if I said it was close enough, because the truth was, it felt like we were moving in the right direction. I liked him. No, I really liked him. I was falling so hard I was surprised I hadn’t broken a hole in the floor.

I spent the entire day thinking about our upcoming date. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be dressed or not before he arrived. Eventually, I opted for my jeans and a shirt. I had an idea of what I wanted to ask him to do, and of course, he could say no—but if he said yes, it could be everything.

He arrived, game in hand, along with kids’ meals with little trucks inside, which were always a winner. He served my food on a divided dish and filled my sippy cup with some freshly pumped milk that was still the perfect temperature, assuring me there would be plenty more later if I wanted it. I would.

He ate his salad while I happily played with my chicken nuggets, making them dance around the edge of my plate, dive into ketchup, and then taking little nibbles.

“Shawn…” I started, but it didn’t feel quite right. He looked at me with a slight tilt of his head.

“Daddy.”

A small smile formed on his face.

“That’s better. I guess because of what we’re doing, I like calling your Daddy better. Is that okay with you?”

I let out a long breath when he smiled.

“It’s so much better for me.” He reached across the table and placed his hand on mine. “What was it you were wanting to say?”

“I was thinking maybe you could give me a bath, and then help me get dressed and play the snail game.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my sweet boy. Let me get this cleaned up, and I’ll set the water for you.”

The night went better than I ever could have hoped. He gave me a bath, washing me and playing with my rubber ducks with me, and then he helped me get dressed in my favorite pajamas and thick underwear.

We played the snail game at least seven times. It was one of those beginner games where everything was based on luck, so you couldn’t really be better than your opponent. But somehow, Daddy made sure I won more games than I lost.

And then, as I was getting sleepy, he had me settle in for some milk as he told me a story about a little boy who tamed the dinosaurs and won the heart of the prince.

“Is it about me, Daddy?” I asked, already half-asleep.

“Yes, Kasper. It’s about you.”

“Does that make you the prince, Daddy?”

“I hope so, my sweet boy. I hope so.”