“No, I really think I’m going to be okay. They’ll have to leave Sunday afternoon so they can get
home before it gets too late. I can work then.”
Good. That meant I didn’t have to feel bad about taking away his study time tonight. Realizing I
wasn’t going to let him get back to his work tonight, Sam saved his work and shut down the computer.
He neatly stacked everything on the little built-in desk between the kitchen and the living room. He
rarely worked there, complaining that facing the wall felt like he was being punished, but he’d
quickly claimed it as a home for his study materials and his laptop so that he wasn’t packing and
unpacking it constantly.
While he finished, I grabbed my phone and placed a take-out order to be delivered. Knowing
Sam, he hadn’t eaten since this morning. Other days, I’d have called him out for getting so caught up
in studying that he forgot to eat, but I knew my boy’s brain was running out of control with his anxiety
over this weekend and the end of college.
“Sammy, dinner will be here in twenty minutes. Let’s get you changed and, if you’re good, we’ll
eat in the living room so you can watch your movie.” As soon as Sam turned around, I took his hand
in mine, leading him to the bedroom.
Buying risers for the bed and a small step for Sammy’s side were two of my favorite purchases
since he’d essentially moved in. I loved watching him wiggle his way onto the mattress when he was
slipping into his little side. I placed my hands on his thighs and gave him a boost. He flipped onto his
back, offering me a dopey grin. “Thank you, Daddy. You made the bed too big for me.”
I tickled Sammy’s sides as I slid my hands under his shirt. He squirmed around, giggling and
smiling up at me. “You don’t like being in the big boy bed with Daddy?”
“I like it, but it’s so high up now! What if I fall out when I’m sleeping?”
I laid out the changing pad and wipes. Sammy lifted his bum off the mattress when I grabbed the
waistband of his shorts. He shimmied his hips as I pulled down his shorts and undies. His back
arched when I ghosted my fingers along the insides of his thighs. His dick started getting hard and
peeked out. It was mean, but I couldn’t help myself. I rubbed my thumb over the tip just enough to
drive him crazy without giving him any relief.
“If you’d taken a break like you were told earlier, maybe Daddy would have helped you with
that,” I pointed out as I unfolded his diaper.
“I was going to, I swear,” he whined. “But then I kept telling myself I just needed to get a little bit
