Good luck with that one, Eddie.
"Do you want to sit on the couch over here with me and watch for a little while?" I ask Justin, ignoring the argument Taylor is starting with his Daddy. "I'm sure you have questions, and I'm happy to answer them."
"Then maybe you can come play with me after," Taylor cuts back in.
"Maybe," I respond on Justin's behalf, then lead him over to the couch set against the far wall anyway. "This is a lot to take in, I know."
We sit in silence for a few extended moments as Justin surveys the room again. "I, uh, I guess I can see the appeal in...regressing? Is that what it's called?" His eyes are glued to where one of the Littles is sitting in his Daddy's lap on an oversized armchair, his thumb in his mouth and fingers curled over the tip of his nose, and his Daddy is reading to him as they rock gently in the chair. It's a sight I also find extremely appealing. Sweet and tender. Justin turns his head my way. "But what do you get out of being a...a Daddy?"
"Joy," I blurt without even having to think about it. "Satisfaction at making my partner —or scene partner— happy and relaxed. It's not always about sex or even being overly kinky. It's...well, I like taking care of people. It makes me happy to watch my Boys relax and let go of their stress and adult worries." He nods, and I can't help adding, "But I do like being called Daddy, too. That partisabout the kink for me. It revs my engine."
Justin bobs his head and mouths the word 'Daddy' to himself. His cheeks go pink, and he looks at his lap, where he's fidgeting with his hands. "Do you have a preference for, um, how little your...your Boys get? Because, like, those guys" —he points to the Middles playing video games— "aren't anywhere near as regressed as that one." Justin gestures to the sleepy Boy in his Daddy's lap. He can't seem to tear his gaze away from the couple.
"Nope, no preference," I answer softly. "Every Boy is unique and brings something different to Daddy/Boy interactions. I'm just as cool with changing wet diapers as I am with helping build a model car. Whatever the Boy I'm with needs, I get pleasure out of being able to look after them and provide it."
He's silent for another long moment, still watching the couple on the big, comfy, rocking armchair. "This...wasn't what I expected when I walked into the club tonight," he admits. “I was looking to get laid, maybe, but…”
Something inside me deflates a little. I knew I was reading too much into his behavior. I knew I was getting my hopes too high. I knew—
"Would it be weird if I tried it?" His quiet question makes my heart flip.
Remaining calm, I ask, "What do you want to try?"
"I..." Justin's cheeks go even more pink than before. "I think…maybe…maybe I’d like to try coloring?”
A wide grin tugs at my lips. “Sweetheart,” I start, allowing the thrum of anticipation to wash over me, “you can try whatever you want.”
Chapter Five
Sittingatthecoloringtable is… different.
After a few minutes and Gabe prodding me to choose the colors I want, I find myself relaxing into the rhythmic movement of my hand. I haven't colored in a long time, not even with Owen. He's more into playing with cars and trucks. I don't know if this is what the regression side of it is supposed to feel like or not. I glance up at Gabe every now and then. He's always smiling and when I do lock eyes with him, his hand travels to my back and rubs up and down. It's comforting.
Taylor, the one I met when Gabe and I walked in, walks up slowly with his hand in his Daddy's and asks if they can join. Taylor is… adorable. He's wearing coveralls and has a paci clipped to his clothes. His hair is a mess of curls, reminding me a bit of Owen when he first wakes up in the morning. The thought of my own kid makes me sigh and I look back down at my lap. I'm definitely not dressed for this room. Gabe's finger is under my chin, and he tilts my head until I'm looking right at him. "Justin, don't be rude, please. Is it okay if Tay-Tay sits with us?"
"Sorry." The word is out of my mouth immediately and although his words were completely calm and he's smiling, I don't like the feeling of doing something wrong or rude. I'd rather be praisednext time. That is, if this is something I do again after tonight. I don't know how I feel about it. I turn to Taylor and his Daddy. "Yes, you can sit with us."
He plops down without hesitation and the older man joins him, sitting between Taylor and Gabe. If I didn't understand the dynamic already, that they are both Daddies, I'd be jealous of how good they look next to each other. I study the way Taylor and his Daddy interact for a long minute. Edward, as he introduces himself, gives Taylor three choices in the coloring pages and then helps pick out the crayons he wants to use. I avert my gaze to Gabe when the two of them share a quick peck of lips.
I can see Gabe studying me. I know the look. Usually, I enjoy that look from other men because it means I have a chance of getting laid, but his eyes hold an extra depth to them. "Sweetheart? Are you okay?"
Sweetheart.
My dick jumps at the sound of it. It's such an innocent name and I can't deny that I love it. I lean into the side of his body, unable to express the swirling thoughts in my mind. Am I okay? I'm enjoying myself, certainly, but this is all so… different. I have a kid; I can't be into this kind of thing, can I? His hand glides into my hair and scratches at my scalp. It sends a shiver through my body but I don't pull back.
"It's just a lot," I mumble against his chest.
"Did I make him sad?" I hear Taylor's voice and finally look up. He's looking between Edward and Gabe. His eyes are wide, and I watch him reach for the paci.
"No." I say the word before either of the two can answer. "I'm just…really new to this. Like tonight is my first night ever experiencing being, um, Little."
Taylor's eyes light up and he smiles at me. "Playing here is so much fun," he says. "It's safe and warm."
"And most importantly," Edward adds. He looks from Taylor to me. He's very attractive, with his beard and soft eyes. He has to be in his late forties or close to it, but he doesn't have the typical dad bod. He has muscles and is showcasing them in the tight shirt across his chest. "It's a place with no judgement. You can explore and see what you do and don't like. There is nothing wrong with anything that feels right to you and your partner."
"This is a lot to take in," Gabe whispers in my ear, "but you're doing great, sweetheart. We can stop whenever you want, or we can try another spot in the room. Tonight is all for you to explore."
I look up at him once again. His eyes are a beautiful brown, and his hair is pulled back in a bun. Parts of it are sticking out and I want to reach up to tuck them behind his ears. I'm so used to doing that to Owen. Instead, I turn to look around at the rest of the room.
