“Like I think you could be a Little.”
I sighed. “Not sure what that is.” I had a suspicion after coming across it while researching Daddies but had been afraid to put a name to it, not understanding enough of the lifestyle.
“It means you age regress. You like to be childlike. Maybe a Middle… That’s more like regressed to middle-school age.”
“And Little is?”
“Toddler or kindergarten, sometimes even non-verbal baby-like.”
“Is there anything wrong with that? Are we going to break up if I say I like that?” Wait, were we even dating?
“No. The opposite. I want you to be comfortable being who you are. If you like drinking from a bottle, you’re most likely a Little. I don’t want you to hide yourself from me. I like having a Little.”
Well, fuck me. Maybe I would get my perfect Daddy on the first try. “The first one then. Definitely a Little.” That was easier to admit than I’d imagined. For so long I’d been afraid to label it, yet saying it aloud felt so right.
“Good boy.”
Those two simple words warmed me to the core, and I couldn’t wait to taste his milk. What would it be like? I hoped he would share that with me sometime soon.
“How was your date?” Rob bounced over to me and ruffled my hair.
I pulled away, already frustrated with him. “Nate told me Preston is a Lactin Brotherhood guy like him.”
“So?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this stuff?” I felt like such a naïve fool.
“Didn’t think you were ready to hear it.” He crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even know what a Daddy was.”
“I don’t think that was your decision. You should have told me.”
“Are you mad about it? I mean that Nate…you know…”
“Lactates? No. That’s like being mad because your stupid eyes are blue.” I turned to go take a shower, but Rob stopped me.
“Hey.” He gently turned me back to face him. “Don’t be mad. I was trying to help.”
I huffed, no longer angry, and gave him a quick hug. “I know. Not really mad. We had a fun day at the park, but I’m tired and sweaty.”
“Go grab a shower, then we can talk. I’ll order pizza. My treat.”
“Cool. Be back in a minute.”
I had planned to grab a quick shower so we could have time to talk and maybe play some Fortnite before the pizza arrived. But as I started washing off, I thought about Nate. He had me swooning over his sexy eyes, handsome face, and solid body. I liked that he was bigger than me and wanted to take care of me. Hopefully that included everything—like my hard dick. That thing was on board with some Daddy loving for sure.
Stroking it hadn’t been in the plan, but now it begged for release, and soap wasn’t doing it. I rinsed off and got out, grabbing my towel. I had some lube stuffed way back behind the first-aid kit under the sink. This wasn’t a private bathroom since any guests who came over used it too, so I didn’t want something like that out on the counter where anyone could see it. I squished some out on my hand and leaned back against the wall. The room was steamy from the hot water, and my cock was now nice and slick. I stroked myself, gradually increasing the speed until I felt the orgasm build. I leaned over the edge of the bathtub and squirted cum all over the bottom. I stood there a second, shaking. It sure hadn’t taken much. One day with Daddy and I was all hot and bothered, but at least I felt better, so I climbed back in and finished washing.
After I got dressed in my lounge pants and an oversized tee, I headed for the living room. Rob was on the couch, playing a first-person shooter game. If I was going to shoot things, I preferred the third-person version. I wanted to be able to see mycharacter and know that it was only a game; my brain sometimes struggled with it otherwise.
I dropped onto the couch beside him and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Is the whole lactating thing normal?”
Rob shrugged. “Well, I’m kinda into it, but I don’t think I’m that serious with Preston.”
“Why not? You two seem great together.”
He shook his head and turned off the game. “No. I guess, well, sometimes I don’t feel like I’m the center of his world. I mean, I get work and stuff. Hell, I have a hard job.” He was an accountant, so I wasn’t sure how stressful that was, but I didn’t know a lot about money and math. I had a hard enough time balancing the books for Bateman Painting, my uncle’s business. “That’s not it. I get that. It’s more like maybe he’s seeing someone else or wants something I’m not. Maybe someone less needy.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
