Chapter 19

Kendry

Zale paid close attention to everything I taught him about me being little. At first, I thought he was just being a good guy, a nice guy. But the deeper our bond developed, the more I realized he truly was interested in my kink.

What got me was his perspective, approaching me as wanting to be the best lover and companion he could for me; it was all done out of love. Nothing could be purer than that.

We developed a routine, which I loved more than anything because my little always wanted assurance. A strong foundation provided that.

Zale worked from home two days a week, which meant he had to leave the other three days to go to the office and construction sites. He always got up and made breakfast. I learned to wake early with him, and my little could rely on eggs, toast and juice every day. On special days, I got Fruit Loops, my favorite cereal.

When Zale got home, if we weren't going out, we had dinner. I could cook quite well, though my little was messy about it. But I always tried to have something for my not-daddy when he got home from work.

We ate at the table together and talked about our day. Afterward, we often relaxed for a while in front of the TV with wine for him, juice for me. Often, I would color, which I loved to do, or play with my toys on the living room floor. Zale would sometimes play with me. He was the best.

Then it was bath time. It was a favorite time of day for both of us. Zale now knew how to do baths correctly. He would draw the bath, make sure all my toys and bubbles were in place, then strip me and put me in it. Sometimes, he stayed outside the water for a while and washed me all over. Then he would join me and we'd play with my toys and make bubble beards.

Zale and I always read before bed. It was our moment for cuddling and intimacy. Because we were new lovers, it always led to sex.

Sex with Zale was always good. So good. On weekends, I got it during the daytime, too. Often more than once.

One day, Zale was in the bedroom putting away fresh laundry. I walked in just as he opened my bottom dresser drawer.

He turned. "You have a lot of jammies in here."

"Yeah."

"Do you like to wear them?"

"Yeah." I put my thumb to my lip and rubbed it.

"Why don't you?"

"Because I like sleeping naked with you better."

"But maybe before bed? Like when we're reading?"

"I like reading with you naked."

Zale pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms with feet. They were powder blue with little pink bunnies all over them. "These are cute."

"Yeah?" Where was he going with this?

"You should wear them after your bath sometimes."

"Why?"

"Because they're adorable." The legs and slippered feet hung limply from his grasp. "And I'd love to see you in them."

"You would?"

"Well, everything is adorable on you. But these—these have feet."

I didn't see why that made a difference. I loved feeted pajamas, but I was a little. Zale was Zale. What was it about the feet?

"Do the feet parts make them cuter?" I asked.

"Yes. And they would make me feel more like a daddy," he replied.

My body jerked in shock. My mouth dropped open.

Zale chuckled at my reaction. "Why are you looking so surprised? I love feeling that way toward you."

"You really are the best daddy-like not-daddy ever," I conceded. "Plus, you let me call you daddy when you fly me over the moon."

"I am the pilot of that story, so yes."

He certainly was.

"I can wear those tonight then. After our bath."

"Great!" Zale smiled, holding them out to me.

I folded them nicely and placed them on the counter by the sink.

I was quietly playingon the floor in front of the TV with my racetrack and cars. Zale sat on the couch with the TV on and the computer in his lap. How he could concentrate, I wasn't sure. When I worked, I had to have total silence.

I set up my track in an elaborate loop where they had to go upside down to make it through to the end. That meant I had to have the starting point at a high mark so my cars could get up enough speed. I added track all the way to the EZ chair and made my little starting platform there.

The first car crashed and burned. So did the second. And the third.

I took track out and brought the loop closer to the chair, hoping that would add speed for when the cars reached the loop.

Nope. Nothing worked. I had done this before just fine. I suspected the chair wasn't high enough.

Dejected, I glanced over at Zale. He didn't seem aware of my troubles, engrossed in his computer.

I made a humph sound.

Still no response.

I banged one of my cars against the racetrack. "Damn."

I peered over my shoulder at Zale. Still no response.

"Damn," I said again. That should have gotten his attention. Littles didn't cuss. Well, except for the bad ones who got spanked.

He showed no sign of hearing me.

Slowly, my favorite red race car in hand, I crawled over to Zale and bumped up against his legs. Then I put my head on his knee.

"Just a sec," he murmured, typing away.

I rubbed my face against his leg and waited. It might have been two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I couldn't wait any longer. I pushed his knees apart and tried to slide between them, under his computer and to the side. He'd never notice, right?

I climbed him like the tree he was, but I wasn't graceful. I nearly toppled his laptop off his lap. He caught it just before it hit the floor.

"Hey!"

"Sorry." I bowed my head. "I need a lap."

At that point, Zale immediately set his laptop aside and assisted me all the way up until I sat with my legs hanging down between his. I ran my race car over his chest and up to the collar of his shirt.

"What's going on?" he asked softly. He was so patient with me, even when I disturbed him.

"I can't get my track right. My cars always crash."

"Is that so?"

I nodded my head against his shoulder. He smelled like clean, fresh soap.

He put his arms around me and hugged me, which was what I needed most. Who cared about the racetrack now?

"We can fix it together," he said.

"Thank you, not-Daddy."

He laughed and kissed me right on the lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him.

"How did you get to be so patient?" I asked.

Zale said, "I wasn't always. It takes experience. And age. Age can change you."

"Does that mean when I get to be your age I'll change, too, and stop wanting to be little?"

"I hope not. But I would support you any way you are."

It seemed like every time Zale opened his mouth, there was always one more nice thing to be said. He was magic that way. He made me feel like a prince. A little king. Like my entire self was made of gold.

He scooted forward, his hands around me, and started to rise. He lifted me effortlessly and I wrapped my legs around his waist and felt his hands come up beneath my ass to support me.

He walked us over to the racetrack.

"Well," he said. "I think the starting point needs to be higher. And maybe the track between it and the loop a little longer."

"Okay, not-Daddy," I said softly in his ear. "We can fix it later. For now, can you just hold me?"

"I can do that."

He swung me around so I could look out the front window at the jubilant blue sky and thin, white summer clouds.

He was all warm and strong and tall. But more, he was the kindest man I'd ever known. He never made me feel dirty or weird about my kink. His own kinks, well, those were different now, he said. He'd changed. He had wanted change. He said it had led him to me and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He always told me he enjoyed indulging me, taking care of me, loving me.

I now wore my jammie feet pants to bed every night. He loved them, would stroke them because they were so soft and fuzzy, and he very much loved taking them off me when we flew over the moon.

The two of us started off as opposites. But we fit together like it was meant to be.

One night in a kink club, reading in a corner, brought me the love of my life.

Who could have known?

But what I knew now? I was the luckiest boy in the world.