Chapter 15

Jakob

Papa let me be little . And I really am a little. Even though I was pretty sure I was before, it was hard to say until I’d gotten under the covers with it, pulled them over my head, and snuggled down. It was everything I thought it would be. Truthfully, it’d been better than I imagined. When the sinking feeling of dropping into little space came over me, it wasn’t weird or scary. It was pure relaxation, and it was still happening. Papa made me happy, inside and out, up and down.

With our ornaments made, Papa vacuumed up all the glitter, and I pretended I didn’t hear him muttering. Glitter was pretty, and Papa was pretty, so his Christmas tree should have pretty things. He said it wasn’t just his, but our tree—together—and my happy dance popped out of me. I tried really, really hard to stop it, but it came out, and I couldn’t put it back.

In the cleanup, my job was to make sure all my toys were opened, the trash was put in the garbage can, the clothes were in the hamper in the laundry room, and all the dishes were in the sink. Papa said I did the bestest job—but it was extra easy, and I think he just wanted to say something nice to me.

We watched a movie, and I got to pick it. Since it was my first official movie with him as my Papa, I tried to make sure it was something he’d like too, but he just kept saying anything was fine. Finally, I picked the one about the pretty doggie who ran away with a lost doggie and saved a baby. Papa knew every single song, and he sang with me. His voice wasn’t ’specially pretty, but I told him it was. He gave me a look, so maybe he knew I fibbed, but he wasn’t acting mad about it, so I ’cided not to worry.

After the movie was over, my babies woke up from their naps. Papa helped me dress them in new clothes for dinner. He said they could sit at the table with me to eat their dinner while he cooked ours. Since the puppies had a fancy ’sghetti dinner, I asked if we could have one too. Papa said yes, but his not-so-fancy sauce had to come out of a jar. I knew it was gonna be yummy because my Papa cooked good. I jumped up on the counter and told my babies everything Papa was doing. He asked if they had names, but they hadn’t told me yet.

#

“Jakob, love, how is it possible for one boy to be this messy? Can you explain it to me?”

Like I knew it would be, Papa’s dinner was so yummy that I was super-duper happy about eating it. I tried not to make a mess but made a big one anyway. Even though Papa looked stern, he was being silly and not mad, not even a teeny-tiny bit.

“You’ve got sauce from your nose to your chin!”

He peered closer to me for a better look. “Your hair too! You are going straight to the bathtub after dinner. It’s tubby time for you, love.”

“It was too good, Papa. I had to chomp it fast, or it would ’scape.”

“How would it be able to escape? Noodles don’t have legs!”

“Papa, the ’sghetti tried to get away ’cause it didn’t want to get chomped. Do you wanna get chomped?”

“Well, no, I don’t suppose I do. You’re still getting in the bathtub, messy boy.”

Papa kissed my forehead when he stood to clear the dishes. I wanted to help, but he told me to stay in my chair until he could wipe my hands down before I accidentally touched my babies. He cleaned my face, too, but it felt funny, so I kept moving my head, and he told me to quit squirming like a wiggle worm. He still wasn’t mad though. “Good enough. C’mon, love, let’s get you in the tub.”

Papa took my hand and led me through the house to his bathroom. He turned the taps to the proper temperature and filled the tub. While it filled, Papa rummaged under the sink for some bubble bath. He dumped a capful into the water, and I snuck more in there because six capfuls were much better. Papa’s lips twitched when I hided it behind my back so he wouldn’t catch me, but he reached around to grab it and then added another dollop.

“Papa! That’s gonna be so many bubbles.”

I clapped my hands in anticipation. “We’re gonna get a bubble mountain.”

“I hope so, love. We can climb it together,”

Papa answered before stripping me out of my clothes so I could get into the bathtub.

Once done, he helped me step into the steaming water. I sank under the water and sighed at how cozy I felt there. The water sloshed around, and some bubbles went over. I looked over the edge, and the bathmat caught them, so no worries about making a mess. The best part of Papa’s bathtub, besides the jets, and they were awesome, was how big it was. It was big enough that two people, just the size of Papa and me, could fit inside.

“Papa, you wanna take a bath with me? I got lots of room.”

Maybe the puppy dog eyes and pouty mouth were a teeny-tiny bit bratty, but I super-duper wanted him with me. Papas could take baths with their boys if they had a big enough tub, and we did, so it was the best plan ever. When I pulled out the big guns and looked at him up from under my lashes, he looked like he was having big thoughts—grown-up thoughts. I was a good boy and let Papa think.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Papa asked me quietly.

“Papa, I never, ever wanted anything more in my whole entire life.”

“Then I guess I better hurry before the water gets cold.”

Papa removed his shirt and pants, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He was so handsome. A flat-ish tummy and brown rings around his nipples teased me. His chest was just the right amount of furry to run my fingers through and rub my cheek against. Sadly, I hadn’t had a chance to do that nearly enough. I should tell him I liked his body because I was a good boy and good boys were polite and said nice things to people. My breath caught in my throat when he slipped his hands under the band of his boxer briefs. Papa probably wasn’t trying to tease me, but it felt like he was. He pushed them down his strong legs, past his hairy calves, and kicked them into our mixed pile of laundry. The way the arms and legs of our clothes tangled and mixed made me smile.

Our puzzle pieces fit together.

I did a little happy dance in the tub when Papa slipped into the water behind me. He braced himself on the rim and placed his legs on the outside of me. His legs brushed my body and a tingly sensation made me shudder. When he was fully seated, Papa slipped down until I was firmly seated in the cradle of his legs. While I played with the toys that had found a permanent home in the basket on the ledge, Papa quickly washed his body and hair. Afterward, he leaned back and quietly handed me toys while I played in front of him.

While engrossed in my game, Papa’s arms encircled me from behind and hugged me closer to him. The soft puff of his breath against my ear gave me a full-body shiver. While I was still deep in little space, my mind took a sharp turn when I felt the pressure of his growing shaft against the small of my back. I clutched his thighs and felt my dick start to swell too. As much as I loved how it felt, I tensed anyway. Papa never acted like he cared about my lack of experience, but there was always a chance he could start.

“Relax, sweet boy, lie back.”

Papa’s words soothed me like he knew they would. I melted against him and let myself feel the water swirling around me. His chest moved up and down with his steady breathing, and I allowed my own to match his. I was in a swirly place between big and little and wanted to stay here forever. In this space, I got to experience all my big feelings for Papa but enjoyed being little while I did it. When my body listened and stopped tensing, I could enjoy the experience of being bracketed by Papa’s legs. My fingers itched to explore him. I moved my hands to his knees and ran my hands up and down the length of his calves. His muscles twitched under my fingers, and I giggled when he grew harder beneath me.

“Papa, you ’kay?”

I asked in a breathy voice.

My brain gargled a mixed potion of want and need. My tongue swelled in my mouth. Forming words in a way that made sense was a struggle. My dick thickened, and I came close to begging Papa to touch me. My mind was a roiling mixture of want, desire, and desperation.

And then he did touch me, and I almost cried. It felt so good, but good wasn’t enough of a description. It felt heavenly, though more devilish than angelic. Papa’s hand slid down my chest, over my fluttering tummy, to the juncture of my legs. His long fingers traced the length of my shaft to my mushroom head and gently explored the slit before retracing his previous path. My balls ached something fierce and drew up, anticipating his touch. My whimpers were barely audible, but Papa’s deep chuckle clued me in that they weren’t silent.

“Love, do you know how many times I’ve thought about this pretty cock of yours?”

Papa’s whispered question turned my body to Jell-o, all wiggly and soft, except my dick. There was nothing soft about that. “You’re such a good boy. So sweet. So kind. So fucking hot.”

He punctuated his compliments by dropping kisses along my shoulders. “I’ve dreamed about this dick and what it would feel like inside me.”

“Papa! You want me inside you?”

In all the porn I’d watched—which was a lot after I moved into the hotel—the boy was almost always the one who took his Daddy’s dick. The few that had the boy being allowed to fuck his Daddy were the ones I watched over and over again. If Papa wanted to fuck me, I was down to try it, but in my fantasies, I imagined it the other way.

“Does that surprise you? My preference is for bottoming. I like the idea of laying you out on my bed and riding you.”

Papa stopped to nibble my earlobe, and I thought my insides would be incinerated by the heat curling through my body. “If you don’t want to top, it’s fine.”

“No, no, Papa, you don’t understand.”

I stumbled over my words because my brain was glitching. Hard. “I want to top you, but in almost all the stuff I watched, it was the other way around.”

I felt Papa’s lips curve against my skin.

“Love, there are no rules except the ones we agree on.”

At some point, my hands had returned to his thighs, and my fingers dug into his skin. “So long as we are both on board, and everything we do is safe, sane, and consensual, we make our own rules. The only thing I want is for you to enjoy yourself. Are you?”

Papa tried to sound innocent, but he was a faking faker who faked. His fingers had encircled my dick, and he knew exactly what he was doing. And what he was doing was not innocent at all. He was wicked.

“Y-y-yes.”

I didn’t even recognize my voice. Who was this person who had taken over my body? Never in my life could I have imagined a scenario where I would boldly reach for what I wanted in a bathtub with the world’s sexiest Papa.

I lost the thread of my self-congratulation when Papa’s hands moved back up my chest and lazily pinched and tweaked my nipples. My labored breathing was close to panting but nothing helped my lungs to work properly. My head lolled back against Papa’s shoulder, giving me perfect access to nuzzle and kiss his neck. When I pulled on his earlobe with a gentle nibble, I felt his entire body shudder. I was a sex god.

And that’s when the giggles started.

“Oh, this is funny, huh?”

Papa murmured in my ear. His fingers stopped stroking me and started tickling me instead. My squirming splashed water over the edge of the bath and onto the floor.

“Papa! What are you doing?”

I shrieked as a swath of bubbles fell over the edge of the tub.

“Me? Nothing. What are you doing?”

I craned my neck around to peer up at him. Papa’s eyes danced with laughter and his smile was easy. He looked so happy and carefree, like he was a boy again, enjoying his favorite toy. I knew in my gut that Papa would never be the kind of person who was careless with his toys. He was the type to treasure and love them. That’s exactly how I felt—treasured and loved.

“I’m trying to take a bath like a good boy. But someone”—I paused to waggle my brows at him—“is distracting me. And they are making me make a mess in the bathroom. If I get in trouble with my Papa, then it’s not my fault.”

“Is your Papa the unreasonable kind?”

“No, my Papa is the bestest kind. He’s sweet and nice and buys me toys and fixes me yummy dinners, and he let me move into his house.”

As I named each reason Papa was the best, I counted off on my fingers and triumphantly showed my splayed fingers to the naughty person—a.k.a. Papa—sharing the tub with me. He grabbed my hand and kissed the tips of my fingers. When he slipped my index finger into his mouth and swirled his tongue around in a filthy preview of how I hoped my night would end, every nerve ending in my body went on high alert. His mouth closed around my finger, and he gently but firmly sucked on it. When he pulled it out, it made an obscene pop that went straight to my painfully hard dick.

“Let’s finish this bath,”

Papa said in a husky tone.

I nodded silently and returned to my original position in front of him with my back fully to him. He grabbed the shampoo off the edge and squirted some into the palm of his hand. He rubbed his hands together for suds and then moved to scrape his fingers through my hair. His movements were deliberate and methodical. When it was time to rinse, he grabbed the handheld water spigot. He repeated the pattern with the conditioner, and I got progressively more antsy when he picked up the loofah and squirted body wash on it. I needed him to touch me in the way I wanted, and he was not accommodating. His movements were brisk and efficient.

Until it was time for my overlooked dick and balls. Then, efficiency went away, and the torture began. Papa picked up the body wash again, but he put it in his hand this time. He dipped under the water and gently soaped my shaft, his fingers encircling and jacking me, using my soap as lube. His palm passed over the tip, drawing whimpers from my lips. After a few strokes, he lowered his hand to cup my balls in his curved fingers. He carefully squeezed me until my whimpers turned to mewls.

“Sweet boy, you’re so good to me. I love all the sounds you make.”

Papa’s whispered words of praise warmed me from the inside out.

“Papa, I need you. Please, don’t make me wait anymore.”

“Oh? What do you need, sweet boy?”

“I need to be inside you.”

“Soon, love.”