Chapter Twelve: Drake

H aving Anson naked in my bed is somehow even more surreal to me than hearing him confess that he was a Little. He’s been wiped clean and I’ve set aside the changing mat and other paraphernalia, and now he’s lounging in the middle of my mattress, stroking his hard, perfect cock and staring up at me expectantly.

“Strip for me, Daddy,” he demands. “I wanna see you, too.”

Standing at the foot of the bed, I’m struck by nerves. Anson’s body is everything mine is not. He’s toned and firm and hairless, with the exception of his neatly trimmed pubic hair and the fair hairs on his legs and arms. I am literally a bear in comparison, with a thick layer of dark hair over my chest and back and pretty much everywhere else you can imagine. I’ve also got a rounded beer belly where Anson’s stomach is flat and smooth. There are stretch marks on my belly and even under my arms where muscles have turned to fat.

I’ve been with Littles of all shapes and sizes, but it’s been a year since the last time I got naked with someone and my body has changed in that time. Plus, I’ve been crushing on Anson for months, so I’ve built up a fantasy of him in my head and even though I know the pedestal I’ve put him on is just a fantasy, I’m afraid I won’t measure up anyway.

I’ve hesitated a beat too long, because Anson sits up against the headboard and frowns at me. “Traffic light?”

I swallow. “Yellow.”

His eyes widen and he reaches for the blankets which I pushed down earlier, just after I stripped him and wiped him down. He settles the covers over his lap before he looks back at me, patting the space beside him invitingly. I walk to the side of the bed, but I don’t slide in beside him. I feel restless with anxious energy, so I stay standing, even if it’s the more awkward choice.

Despite deliberately wetting earlier —and at some point I’m going to revisit just how hot that almost bratty, and most certainly brazen act was— I know he hasn’t been deeply Little since we ate dinner. Still, I feel a pang of guilt to watch him come out of headspace to say, “Let’s talk it through.”

Don’t get me wrong: Doctor Anson Meyers is hot when he’s Big, too. But I hate that my safe-wording has interrupted his first experiences in Little space.

“What’s making you uncomfortable?” he asks me gently, without any rebuke or annoyance. In this moment, I can understand why he thought he was a Daddy. He is a nurturer, and he does take charge when necessary. “Is it that I was Little? Is it too much for a first time?”

“No, not at all. I’m actually really into sexy playtime with a Little.”

Anson’s lip quirks and his pretty blue eyes sparkle mischievously. “Noted.” After a beat, he asks, “Was it the changing thing beforehand? Would you prefer I go shower?”

Again, I shake my head in the negative. “No. I know you’re all cleaned up. I took care of that myself.” To spare him from playing the twenty questions game, I sigh and confess, “I just got nervous. You’re gorgeous and fit and I’m…well.” Sweeping a hand over my torso, I shrug. “And it’s been, like, a year for me. I’m out of practice.” My cheeks burn. “I’ll probably embarrass myself.”

He takes it all in, and I’m glad that he doesn’t immediately dismiss my concerns as me overthinking or being dumb. Eventually, though, he carefully begins with, “These are totally valid feelings, and I appreciate you being honest with me about them.”

I can’t help snorting and interrupting, “There’s a ‘but’ there…”

“Yeah, there is.” He grins. “My butt is awesome, by the way.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.” I’ve wanted to bite it during diaper changes. I could probably bounce a penny off its perfectly taut, shapely form.

“Anyway,” he redirects the conversation, probably reading my thoughts from where they’re written all over my face, “they’re valid feelings, but ,” he pauses and pins me with a very Daddy-like (or, I suppose, Doctor-like) stare, “I’m just as nervous as you are. I’ve had a crush on you for a while and I never really understood why. And now that I do, this whole thing feels new and different. I mean, fuck, I haven’t bottomed since college, for one thing. For another…you’re, like, the perfect Daddy. The kind of Daddy I wished I could be. What if…what if I’m not Little enough, or I say or do something stupid in Little space?” He holds up a hand when I move to immediately reassure him, and he smiles with understanding. “But I trust you, and I know that if I do say or do something stupid, we’ll laugh it off and chalk it up to learning about how things work best between us. I mean, sex isn’t ever perfect. It’s messy, and awkward sometimes, and sometimes you do just have to stop and reposition yourselves or try something different to make the moment work. So what if you come quickly? Is that going to end everything right then and there? I doubt it.” His smile turns wolfish. “I figure you’ll blow me, or eat me out, or jerk me off, or—”

“Okay, okay,” I laugh, even as my cock starts to spring back to life at his suggestive words. “Point taken.” Reassured now, I tilt my head at him and muse, “That was very Doctor-ish of you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really have the ‘be safe and explore what you’re comfortable with’ talk with many of my patients. I’m a pediatrician,” he adds the clarification for me, which I appreciate.

“Oh, I thought you worked in the emergency department with Vince.”

“I do sometimes when they’re short-staffed, and I am often on call for any kid-related emergencies.” Shrugging, Anson ducks his chin and then looks up at me from beneath his lashes. “But, um, can we talk about that later? I’m kind of hoping I can still get your sexy lumbersnack ass into bed.”

I blink at him, bewildered. “Lumbersnack?”

“I said what I said,” he grins and throws the covers back again, rolling onto his side and patting the mattress beside him again. “We can just cuddle if you’d prefer?”

I shake my head, my gaze drawn to his cock. It’s long and lean like the rest of him, curving upwards towards his belly. It twitches under the weight of my gaze and mine responds in kind inside my pants. “No. I want this.” I force myself to look him in the eye. “I want you.”

His smile is sinful, and his sweeping glance over my body is heated. “Then get those clothes off and come and get me, Daddy.”

He doesn’t need to ask me again. I strip in record time, ignoring the rapid beating of my heart as I reveal my soft belly and furry body to him. Anson groans and strokes his cock which seems to visibly strain harder once I’m naked, and the last of my concerns fade away with the physical evidence of his interest in me. Words can be faked, but the pearl of precum at the tip of his dick can’t.

“You’re so… manly ,” he says as I slide into bed beside him. His hands reach for my chest, winding his long, elegant fingers into my veritable carpet of chest hair. He bites his lower lip and, curling his fingers, gives the hair a tug.

The pleasurable sting of it makes me moan. Anson giggles.

The sound and sight of him sinking back into his Little headspace is yet another relief. Sliding my hand down his side, I tickle him briefly, loving the way he squirms and giggles again. “You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you, sunshine?”

“Speaking of a handful…” A playful expression crosses his face and I gasp as he wraps his hand around my cock. I’ m pretty sure I go cross-eyed when he starts to stroke me slowly. “Is that good, Daddy?”

“Fuck,” I breathe, closing my eyes and enjoying the feel of someone else’s hand — Anson’s hand — working me over. “Yes, baby. Just like that.”

He smiles and then leans over me, initiating another kiss. Where our first kiss was soft and sweet, and the kisses on the couch were desperate and needy, this one is sure and sensual. Anson’s tongue teases mine, coaxing me to deepen the kiss.

He whimpers as I take control, rolling onto his back while I move over him, reversing our positions. I slot my thigh between his, rutting my weeping cock against his hip and feeling his rubbing and leaking against mine.

“You want to come like this, baby?” I whisper against his lips, “You want to come rubbing against Daddy?”

Anson gasps and arches his back, seeking more friction as he presses his cock into me. “Fuck yes,” he exhales, and I chuckle.

“I normally have a rule about swearing.”

“You already said it’s okay during sex.” He whines and opens his eyes into slits, glaring at me. He’s still moving and undulating under me when he says, “Plus, cussing makes sexy time more fun, Daddy.”

“Is that so?”

He gives me one of his devious little smirks and nods before he closes his eyes and grabs at my ass. “ Fuck, ” he moans out the word as a long, decadent sound of bliss, “more Daddy, please?”

The plaintive begging goes straight to my balls. “Okay,” I huff out another half-chuckle, “point taken.”

Anson doesn’t say anything for a few moments, too lost in our rutting and the slippery slide of flesh against flesh. “Wha—what point?” his question is breathy, issued between escalating panted breaths. “I… oh , Daddy…I’m gonna come…”

“Is this how you want to come?” I repeat my earlier question amongst my own ragged breaths. “Or do you want Daddy to suck your perfect cock?”

His eyes fly open and he nods enthusiastically. “P-please suck me, Daddy. I’ve been a good boy.”

“Yes you have,” I agree with a grin, forcing myself to stop writhing against him. I slink down his body, peppering his chest and tummy with kisses.

“Your beard tickles,” he wriggles when I get to his hip, breathy giggles accompanying the complaint when I kiss him again. “Daddy! You gotta kiss me lower .” He humps the air for emphasis.

It’s way too cute for words, even if his hard cock does look enticing, all shiny where the precum has begun to slide down the shaft.

“Lower where?” I tease, bypassing his groin and nipping at the inside of one of his firm thighs. “Here?”

“Nooo,” he wiggles his hips. “Higher up now.”

“Oh, I see.” I move as though to kiss the tip of his cock, but overshoot and kiss him on the upper part of his Adonis belt. “Here?”

“ Daddy! ” he whines with a bit more impatience, “No! Lower again.”

My own dick is aching again, as though it has gone out in sympathy with Anson’s poor, ignored erection.

“Where then, baby?”

I glance up to watch Anson turning coy, nibbling his lower lip as a blush spreads over his cheek. “Kiss my cock , Daddy,” he answers, whispering the adult word in an almost unpracticed way, “like you said you were gonna.” He smiles shyly and adds, “Please?”

“I can’t refuse when you ask so nicely,” I tell him, positioning myself where I need to be. Leaning my weight onto one arm, I use my free hand to grip his base and then ever so gently press my lips to his purpled, leaking head.

Anson’s hands fist the sheets at his sides and he bucks his hips up for more.

Licking my lips, I get my first taste of him and swallow back a moan of approval. My own cock dribbles with excitement at the thought of more, too.

“D-daddy…” The word —more a plea— is music to my ears. “Daddy, I need…”

“I know, sunshine,” I assure him, moving my fist up and down his shaft. I love watching him falling apart under my touch; the way he gasps and whines and rocks his hips. “But Daddy wants to explore you a little bit more first. Is that okay?”

“Oh God, ” he groans, arching off the mattress again, “yes. Please. More. More of everything.”

Accepting the blanket permission at face value, I kiss down his length, darting my tongue out to taste more of his precum as I inch downwards and over his balls. He cries out when I suck one into my mouth, then again when I move to the other. I bury my nose in his trimmed thatch of pubic hair and inhale the scent of him deeply. He smells like the soap I used when I cleaned him off, and that slightly antiseptic scent from the baby wipes, too. But under that is his natural musk and it drives me wild.

Releasing his balls, I trail my kisses lower still, over his taint and towards his furled hole. His breathing hitches and he squirms when I press a kiss there, too, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Y-you don’t have to…” he stammers when I pull back, the question of his comfort level and consent on the tip of my tongue. “I…I haven’t…not since college.”

He said something to that effect earlier, too. With my right hand still pumping his cock slowly, I use my left to smooth over his thigh. “Want me to stop?”

I watch him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing roughly. He shakes his head. “No, Daddy. Just…um…be super gentle?”

The lube and condoms are still in the nightstand drawer, so this gives me an opening to pull away and redirect the conversation back to where we probably should have started before we got going. He whines when I let him go, but I explain what I’m doing and that mostly settles him.

Mostly.

The mention of the supplies I’m grabbing has him tensing and, once I’ve got them, I sit on the edge of the mattress and hand the little bottle to him. I frown down at the little foil square in my hand and sigh. “Out of date.”

Once again, I’m cursing myself for pulling him out of his headspace. He sits up on his elbows and clears his throat. “I, um, I get tested regularly for work. Last test was actually two weeks ago. And I’m negative,” he says, “and on PrEP. Y’know, if…if you want to go without. I mean, we’re doing this exclusively, right?” He winces. “And we’ve gone about this all ass-backwards. That’s my fault. I get excited then just go full steam ahead.” A bitter, self-deprecating chuckle follows and he flops back onto the mattress, covering his face with his hands. “Seriously, how did I miss my Little tendencies? I have the impulse control of a three-year-old.”

“Whoa. Okay, firstly, I get tested every six months. I haven’t been with anyone in a year, but I still got tested at the beginning of the month, and my results were negative. I’m also on PrEP, just FYI.” That’s the easy part. Reaching out to pry his nearest hand off his face, I squeeze it as I ask, “Do you want to be exclusive?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his reply, but he nibbles his bottom lip again, bashfully. “I don’t wanna share you, Daddy.”

Oh, my heart .

“Good, because I don’t want to share you, either.” So, sue me; I get possessive about my Littles, and just the idea of someone else getting to experience what I have with Anson makes me grumpy.

Anson doesn’t have an issue with my admission, though. He smiles brightly back at me. “Really?”

“Really.” After a beat, I say, “But we’re going to work on your guilt over not discovering your Little side earlier, okay? I don’t care how many times we have to talk about it: it’s not a bad thing that you didn’t see it earlier. In fact,” I grin at him, “I’m glad that you’re exploring it all with me. It makes me feel really special.”

“You are special,” he insists. “And, really, I’m glad I’m doing this all for the first time with you, too.”

Speaking of first times… I squeeze his hand again. “You said you prefer to top? Or that you have since college?”

“Uh…yeah.” His lip is being abused again, but a sense of foreboding runs down my spine when he looks away, unable to meet my gaze. “I…I didn’t have great experiences bottoming in college. It, um, well. I only tried twice. It…hurt. A lot. I…” he clears his throat again and shrugs despondently. “I gave up after the second time. Decided I was meant to be a top and that was that.”

There’s so much unsaid there, so many things that I can assume, and the very idea that someone hurt him —even unintentionally— to the point where he can’t even look at me to discuss it makes me rage inside. No, I obviously don’t know the whole story or the circumstances, but I still hate the idea of Anson being hurt regardless.

“Honey, look at me,” I insist gently, giving him a reassuring smile when he finally swings those beautiful blue eyes back in my direction. “I’m vers. You wanna top, I’m down for it. If you want to avoid penetration entirely, I’m good with that, too. And if one day you feel comfortable telling me the whole story, even if you think it’s trivial or just the fact that your partners at the time were drunk or inexperienced, I’d feel privileged for you to trust me with it. But I have zero expectations when it comes to sex, okay? Zero.”

His eyes fill with tears and he launches himself up from his reclined position, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs through a voice clogged with emotion. “And I do want to have sex. I do want you to fuck me. I’m not traumatized or anything. I just…I need you to understand that I might tell you to stop. I might just be one of those guys who doesn’t enjoy bottoming and I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I couldn’t be disappointed with you,” I insist, unable to stop myself from wondering about what kind of assholes have put those concerns in his head. “Like I said, I have absolutely no expectations, baby.”

“Well, good, because I’m pretty sure me crying all over you has ruined the mood.”

“Uh, you’re naked and in my lap. There’s definitely still a mood.”

He laughs, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

“How do you want this to go, sunshine?” I ask him after a little more time has passed, and the embrace has turned into more of a cuddle. “Do you just want to snuggle? Do you want to pick up where we left off? Do you want to fuck me?”

“I want it all, Daddy,” his answer sounds like he’s sunk back into Littlespace again. While I’m happy that he seems to be able to find it with ease, I make a note to watch him for signs of subdrop, especially after this last emotional conversation. He wriggles in my lap and I can feel his once-again renewed erection rubbing against mine. “But…can you…can you try to fuck me? Please? ’Cause I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

If I wasn’t already on my way back to fully aroused again, that quiet confession sealed the deal. Rubbing my bearded jaw along his cheek, I prod, “Oh, really?”

“Mmmhmm. You’re this big bear of a man, Daddy. Ever since I first saw you, I thought…well, I thought you’d probably be a natural top. Is that…ster…stair…um…”

“Stereotyping?” I offer. He nods. I shrug. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. Most Littles I’ve been with prefer me topping. It generally comes with the Daddy role.” I cock my head and smile to myself as another piece of the Anson puzzle slides into place. “And that probably played some part in why you were originally drawn to being a Daddy.”

“Huh,” he thinks about it for a moment, “I didn’t think of that. But…I’m really not a Daddy.”

“You can be a Little who tops, though. I’m very happy to experiment.” I bounce my hips up to show him just how much I like the idea and he giggles.

“Another day, Daddy. Tonight…tonight I really wanna try the other way around. I wanna feel super taken care of…and, yeah, I know I can still feel that way if I’m inside you, but…”

“Shh, sweetheart. I get it.” At least, I think I do. He wants to feel as Little as possible, which means handing over all the reins. It’s not a privilege I’ll take for granted. “And I’m going to take care of you, honey.” I lean back to make sure I can look him in the eye again. “But if you do hate it, I need you to tell me. Call red light and we’ll switch things up, no questions asked.”

He nods. “I’m so lucky you found me, Daddy.”

And there goes my heart again. “I’m lucky you found me, too.”

Then we’re kissing again and the rest of the world melts away.