Chapter Seventeen: Anson

I wake up on Christmas Day snuggled up against Daddy like I did yesterday. After he told me it was okay to regress again, we had the most magical evening and night. He made soup with fresh, crusty, home-made bread rolls for dinner, and I loved that he spoon fed the whole bowl to me before we took another bath together and then settled down for a book and bottle in bed.

He even turned me down when I tried to initiate sex, thinking that he should be rewarded for being an amazing Daddy and giving me a Christmas I won’t ever forget. He told me that just because we were going to bed, we didn’t have to do more than snuggle unless I really wanted some grown-up touches, and, when I really thought about it, I didn’t.

Yes, the thought of getting naked with him got me hard and worked up, but I wanted to experience a night of pure regression, too. When I admitted that I preferred the latter, he didn’t seem at all frustrated or annoyed. He just kissed the top of my head and said there would be plenty of time for sex later.

Remembering the conviction in those words makes my stomach all fluttery and I squirm.

“I told you yesterday,” Daddy grumbles good-naturedly, his voice a deep rumble above my head, “use your diaper. It’s Christmas Day. I want a sleep in.”

I snort. “I wasn’t squirming because of that.” Although, now that he’s mentioned it, I could pee.

“No?”

Shaking my head, I snuggle closer into his warm, furry chest and belly. I love how soft and cuddly he is. He’s got the perfect Daddy body and he smells faintly of last night’s bubble bath. “Nope. I was thinking about how amazing yesterday was, and how you made it clear that we really are going to keep doing this —keep dating and being Daddy and Boy— after the holiday.”

His arms tighten around me, and his reply comes out gruff, whether from being sleepy or emotional, I can’t completely tell. “You deserve a better Christmas than this for your first time being Little, honey. You deserve presents under the tree for your Little side. Hell, you deserve an actual tree—”

“Hey,” I interrupt playfully, “what’s wrong with the one I drew?”

He laughs, then sighs. “Nothing. It’s perfect and we’ll keep it and put it up every Christmas we spend together—” I wonder if he can hear my heart hammering at that casual proclamation “—but I want to give you more than this. I want to spoil you and make up for all the time you spent spoiling Boys and suppressing your instincts, even though you didn’t know you were doing it.”

“Well, like you said, we’ve got time to do that, too.” I get all squirmy again as the butterflies in my belly take flight. The idea that we’ll still be like this next Christmas, even if it is just dream right now, makes me very happy.

And, yeah, I think I really do need to pee.

“Mmm,” he murmurs and kisses the top of my head, “Good. Now, sleep, baby. We can be serious again later.”

So, the man who gets up stupidly early every day to run a bakery is not a morning person. That’s good to know.

It doesn’t help my bladder predicament, though. Especially not when he starts snoring lightly and traps me in his big, bear arms, one of his thick legs thrown over my waist, pinning me down.

I suck my lower lip into my mouth and consider my options.

The only one that really makes sense in the end is to regress and let Daddy take care of me when he wakes up. In fact, the more I consider it, the better the idea sounds.

So I carefully dig around for my pacifier, finding it wedged under the pillow under my cheek, and I pop it into my mouth.

It’s crazy how, in less than two full days, just the sensation of doing that triggers something in my brain to let go. It’s easy to feel Little when I’m nursing on my paci, listening to the rhythmic clicking-sucking sound I make. And being snuggly in Daddy’s arms helps, too. He’s so big and burly that I feel small when he holds me.

My eyelids droop and I forget all about my nagging bladder…until the warm wetness of my unexpected release makes me jolt awake.

Whoops.

Well, not really whoops. Daddy said it was okay. I just startled myself. I was so Little that I didn’t realize it was gonna happen…and I want that floaty happy feeling back.

Daddy snores a bit louder and tugs me even closer against him, and that helps me go back to that place where I feel safe and taken care of. Sucking on my paci, I bury my chest in his sweet-scented chest hair and close my eyes.

Daddy will take care of everything.

If only I could have that all the time.

* * *

We wake up late and, even though I wake up wet, I’m Big, so I decline Drake’s offer to change me. Instead, I waddle into the bathroom and undress myself, disposing of the diaper before giving Drake the all clear to join me in a lazy, mid-morning shower.

We take our time soaping each other up, exchanging hand jobs beneath the cascade of deliciously hot water. Drake’s body bracket’s mine against the laminate sheet wall as he kisses me under the spray, and I gasp and whimper into his mouth, still amazed at the turn my life has taken.

He takes both our dicks in his large hand and jerks them together, and our moans combine and echo in the steam-filled chamber of the shower.

“You fit so perfectly against me,” he mutters, the words barely audible under the rushing water. “I love how you feel. How you taste.” Punctuating that assertion with another kiss, he jacks us a little harder. “How you sound.”

“D-Drake,” I stammer over his name, already teetering on the edge of what promises to be another mind melting orgasm with him, “you…I… fuck .”

He chuckles, but the sound is breathy, as if he’s just as close to coming as I am. “You’re being such a good boy for me, Anson. Are you going to come for me?”

Losing the ability to form words, I nod vigorously.

“That’s it. Be my good boy. Come for Daddy, baby.”

The fact that he knows how much I enjoy him being Daddy even when I’m Big warms me from my head to my toes. And the sweetly murmured praise pushes me over the precipice, giving me permission to erupt over his fist in jerky spurts, a series of “Oh God, oh Daddy, oh fuck”s accompanying every shot.

“ Nnngh , yes, baby. You are so fucking pretty when you come,” he declares, shuttling his fist even faster. My cock is getting a little hypersensitive now that I’ve already come, but I don’t want him to let go. I want him to come all over me, too.

“I want to see you come, too,” I reply, still a little shaky following my release. “Cover my cock with your cum, Daddy. Mark your territory.”

“Fuck that’s hot,” Drake groans, then, moments later, moans out his own orgasm with a long, low, “ Fuuuuuck .”

He slumps against me, cooling his forehead on the wall behind me while he catches his breath, and we allow the water running down our bodies to wash away the evidence of our activities.

“That was…” he starts, sounding dazed and satisfied, and I laugh.

“Uh-huh,” I agree. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

It really is the perfect way to start the day, if I do say so myself.

* * *

I help Drake make brunch and we take the mixture of breakfast and lunch foods over to the coffee table in front of the fireplace, where I smile at the decorations we put up yesterday. Now that I’m Big, I can understand why he seemed so disappointed that they were a bit threadbare and spartan, but the sheer joy I experienced in unpacking the boxes and helping him set it all up makes it seem far better than any decadent Christmas scene could possibly be.

Beneath my messy drawing of a tree, there are two items with tinsel haphazardly thrown over them. They weren’t there when we went to bed last night, and I cock my head as I look at them.

“Uh,” I start, ignoring the croissant Drake baked for me in preference of pointing towards the strange new additions, “what’s that?”

He cringes and blushes. “It’s…I mean, when I thought we were just going to hang out as two Grinchy guys, I…um…well, I still wanted to get you a token gift because it’s still Christmas , y’know? But now you’re my Boy and…ugh, I wish I’d gotten you something better.”

He barely gets halfway through his rambled explanation before I’m scrambling over to our ‘tree’, dusting the tinsel off a six pack of beer and a box of chocolates. I leave the mess of his improvised wrapping paper behind as I carry my prizes back over to the couch.

I bend to kiss his lips softly and place them on the table. “I love them,” I tell him honestly. Then my face falls. “But…the thank you gift I got you is in my car. In my other bag.” The one that got left behind. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to give you. At least, not until the weather clears.”

The snow has started to let up, but neither of us want to brave the driveway or roads just yet. Hopefully we’ll be able to leave tomorrow, though. The thought of having to call the hospital and tell them I can’t come back to work after my designated leave days stresses me out.

“Are you kidding?” Drake asks me, sounding completely bewildered. “Anson…you’ve already given me the most precious gifts I could have asked for. Not just the time spent as Daddy and Boy —or the sex— but your trust. Your affection. Hell, just having company over a holiday I was dreading…” He tugs me into his lap and hugs me tightly. “I don’t need material things. I’m just happy to have shared this with you.”

Just like that, my stress begins to dissolve again. The worry is still there at the back of my brain, but I’m bolstered by Drake’s words. Coming here, spending Christmas with him, even at the risk of being snowed in…it was the right decision. As much as I genuinely love my job, it shouldn’t be the only priority in my life. Not when I’ve got a chance for true happiness. And, really, if I do get stuck here and they freak out about it, it’s not like there aren’t other places I can work. I could even start my own private practice if I wanted to…

But my thoughts are going wildly off course and I force myself to stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Instead, I think about what has gone right.

I’ve found someone who wants all the same things in life that I do. He wants to take care of me, and I want to make him happy, too. I’ve finally felt the puzzle pieces over why I was drawn to the age play lifestyle all click into place. I’ve been able to let go and have the first truly relaxing holiday of my adult life…and I think I may just be falling in love, however fast it might be.

With absolutely zero facetiousness, I settle down on the couch next to Drake and think:

Merry Christmas to me.