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"I’m sorry I red-lighted. I feel so silly."
When I told Bryce to quit speaking, I felt immature and not in a cute way. I thought Bryce would assume I wasn’t ready to discuss mature topics or that I was uncomfortable speaking about the acts that a consenting boy can get up to with his Daddy.
That couldn’t be further from the case.
I need a break, a pause before I delve into any mature topics. I’ve never had a Daddy to speak about these things with. Rubbies. Fantasizing about doing things with diggers, piles of dirt, or pleasing myself around them.
Every time I feel safe to broach the subject, the Daddy I’m speaking to leaves. It’s as if he can tell where the conversation is headed and doesn’t want to deal with my unique interests.
Bryce clips out a restrained growl. "Damnit, boy. Never feel silly around me. I go at your pace. That’s what makes me happy."
Joy bubbles up inside me, and I sink into his fluffy body, as if it’s quicksand and I don't want to climb my way out. "You know just what to say."
Bryce hrmphs. "I’m not just saying anything. I mean it. Speak your truths around me. I won’t judge you."
"One of my truths is that I rub Bob on my wee," I whisper, but not in any kind of confessional manner, not with a trace of the insecurity I felt before, but with an almost undertone of provocation, a devilish little pseudo-confession that’s designed to show Bryce how naughty I can be.
I’m testing Bryce. Why, I’m not sure.
Maybe it’s because I want to see if he’s truly comfortable speaking about big boy topics with me. Maybe it’s because I want to double check he won’t truly run like everyone else.
Or maybe it’s because Bryce seems to get me like nobody else in a way that feels too good to be true and blurting out my deepest secrets, my innermost truths, is a means by which I’ll discover if he’s truly capable of relieving my hornies, of being my Daddy, like he claims he wants to be.
Or maybe I’m just horny. Ha. That’s probably it. Right?
Bryce grins as he pecks my cheek. "Rubbies, eh? I figured as much. Saw a lil’ dot-let of pre-cum on your wee bulge after you woke up and I couldn’t help but think a few naughty things. Thought you were giving yourself a bit of a rub there, eh? Pretending you were sleeping."
I pause. Try to take deep breaths.
What… in the world?
My fingers loop around two buttons on Bryce’s cozy shirt. "Where did you learn to speak like that?"
Bryce laughs. "It’s the way I talk around cute boys like you. Not always, but sometimes." He squeezes my bum. "If it’s too much, tell me. I can tone it down."
Not at all.
I recall something that Calloway told me a few weeks ago. He confessed that, when he and Greyson really get going in the bedroom, Greyson sounds like a construction worker. This thought made me so horny that I printed off ten pictures of construction workers and pictured them all talking dirty to me in the middle of a hole surrounded by dirt. They said the naughtiest things, and it was especially hot because I’d never realized that construction workers could speak in that way.
To realize that Bryce has just as dirty of a mouth, well. That is the cherry on top of my fantasies.
I whip my head back and forth. "You’re right. I did have a dot-let of pre-cum on my bulge, in fact I still do."
Bryce issues me a stern look. "You told me red light. I’m not doing anything unless you change your light from red to green."
I thrust my arms around Bryce’s neck. My breathing is labored and my heart batters against my ribcage. Oh, poor ribs, so tender and innocent, so undeserving of such violent blows. Be strong and withstand the pulses of my nervous heart.
"My light is still red, Daddy. But I’m glad we’ve at least opened the gates to this discussion."
When I look up at Bryce next, his eyes are brimming with so much pride. "I’ve dreamt of a boy who was confident enough in himself to use limits. So often, Daddies can’t be one-hundred percent sure if their boys are truly on board with what they like. Daddy’s job is to protect his boy at all costs, especially in the bedroom. That’s why Greyson went so slow with Calloway."
I can’t help but interject, laughing. "Greyson moved at a glacial pace. Let’s be real."
Bryce rolls his eyes. "He did, but as a quality, kind Daddy, that was a must. He loved Calloway with all his heart, and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt him."
I moan, collapsing onto Bryce’s chest all over again. "Calloway told me that Greyson first sucked him off while they were watching Shrek during snuggle movie tonight. He really liked it."
Bryce nods in agreement. "I heard that, too. But we shouldn’t be chatting about this if your light is still red, cutie. We’ll get a speeding ticket."
