Page 20 of Abbott’s Lost Spoon

“Does this mean we’ll have dino food too?”

“In fact, yes.” I pulled the tray out of the oven. “Dinos, mini tots, and prehistoric trees for your dino to devour.”

“Did they have this kind of tree in dino times?” He was bouncing again by the time I served the food on his divided plate.

“I think so. But probably bigger.”

He stilled for a moment then shrugged. “The dinos were bigger, too. Did they have ranch?”

“I don’t think so.” I watched his face grow serious before holding up the squeeze bottle. “But we do!”

My good boy ate his whole lunch and even had seconds, accompanied by a sippy cup of cold milk. Then I helped him wash his hands and face before we adjourned to the living room where I’d set out a few of the toys and crafts I’d bought. Yes, I’d gone over the top, but saner heads had me not overwhelming him with everything at once. The saner heads of my fellow daddies. Abbott ran right over to the low table where I’d set up a prehistoric play set.

“Daddy, we’re having a dino party!”

“I guess we are at that.” At his invitation, I sat down and an epic scene ensued. At the beginning, the various dinosaurs were at war, two factions out to take out the other, but after a few skirmishes, something changed.

A pterodactyl swooped in from nowhere and perched on the volcano before giving a speech about friendship and how it was better to play together and have a good time than fight. The others all turned to face him, and then, with a little help from the daddy in the room, cookies and milk were enjoyed by all. I couldn’t remember when I’d had a more fun or creative afternoon. There were other things to play with, but Abbott sat back with a sigh, and I thought he might want a little break.

“Story time?” I suggested. “I have a few books we can choose from.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Let’s straighten up the toys, then, and we’ll do that next.” We put the play set away and wiped crumbs off the table then retreated to the sofa where, he settled on my lap and snuggled in. “Which story would you like?”

Chapter Fifteen

Abbott

“I’m big now.” That was my code for I wanted more than what I was wanting when little. I could’ve stayed in little space all night, but my body disagreed. I watched his lips as he gave directions and wanted to nibble on them. I smelled his cologne as we sat beside each other and wanted to climb him like a tree. I managed to handle both of those. But then, he hugged me close for story time, and it was game over. My cock wanted to come out and play. I wouldn’t be able to stay in little space like this. It was time to take care of my grown-up needs.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I put his hand on my erection through my clothes. “I’m distracted, is all.”

I knew littles who played adult sexy games while they were small. That was great for them, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed. “Give me a minute to change.”

“Change?” He tapped his chin. “How about you just take it off?”

There was zero argument from me. I slowly took off piece after piece, letting them flutter to the ground, loving the way he soaked in every single move I made.

“That’s not fair, Soren.” I’d called him Daddy when I was little. Now, in this context, the distinction of his first name felt important. “I think you need to fix your clothing issue, now.”

“I don’t understand, Abbott. What clothing issue?” He totally understood. “Why don’t you come show me?”

I walked over to him slow, almost like I was a predator stalking my prey. And maybe, on some level, I was.

“Do you need some help, sir?”

“With?” he asked, 100 percent playing the game. Sexy. As. Fuck.

“Looks like I am the one who is taking over today.” I grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a hard kiss. It was rough, raw, and messy, and, after our sweet playtime, it fit.

I pulled back and tapped his arms. When they raised, I pulled the shirt up and over and let it join my clothes.

“That’s a tad better.” I ran my fingers over his abs, tracing the muscles there, lower and lower until I reached his jeans.

Leave it to Soren to be wearing the jeans of a thousand buttons. I understood the sexiness of button-fly jeans, but not when trying to get them off. I fiddled with them one by one, popping them open, and by the time I was done, I was ready for the rest of his clothes to be gone. I slid my hands into his pants, making sure to grab his underwear, and then pushed them all the way to the floor. But, as he went to step out of them, I looked up at him and shook my head.