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"That’s incredible, BJ."
"When my mother walked me home, I was on cloud nine. I kept telling myself that I’d be a working guy someday, and my mother only smiled. Now, I know that she was laughing, because even back then, I was small for my age."
Bryce furrows his brow. "Size has nothing to do with being a working guy."
I sigh. "I beg to differ. At sixteen, I marched to a site and handed them a resumé. The foreman told me the bricks would crush me and split my head in two."
Bryce pushes out a low, rumbly growl. His tongue swipes over his lower lip, then he threads his fingers through mine. "You can help the working guys at any size. Hell, some working guys even like a boy hanging around their job site, because it gives them someone to teach. All you need is a good quality hardhat, steeltoed boots, and a reflective vest."
I look down at Bryce’s huge hand enveloping mine. Another pulse kicks through me, and I squirm to move my midsection away from where our hands are hugging, because they’re too close.
One wrong move and Bryce could graze my wee.
Then, he’d discover that my love of construction things isn’t purely platonic.
How often I’ve thought about losing my virginity on a digger. A Daddy who loves thrusting into me, pushing his hard cock into my body. I’d come as we dug a hole.
I take Bob and bring him between my legs with my hand that Bryce isn’t holding. I don't let Bryce see.
My thighs clench around Bob, and I close my eyes as I clench and unclench. "Yeah. A hardhat and a vest."
Bryce’s thumb rubs my palm. "You look sleepy."
Not sleepy. Something else.
This, I don't dare tell Bryce.
I smile and nod. "All this talk of construction sites has made me ready for nap time."
Bryce pecks my cheek. "I’ll be here when you wake up."
Bryce
As BJ sleeps, I watch him.
I shouldn’t. It feels vaguely wrong.
Only vaguely.
Mostly, it feels so cute and adorable that you couldn’t pay me ten million bucks to pry my eyes away.
He snores so loudly, his breath pushing his hair in every direction, that I almost think he’s faking.
That’s when my eyes flit down… and I spot his thighs clenching around his teddy Bob. A hard bulge presses into Bob, right where Bob’s nose meets his cheek.
My brow furrows. What… is this?
BJ yawns, then his eyes flutter open. "What an amazing nap."
I squint, and to my surprise, I spot a tiny droplet of something wet on BJ’s coveralls.
I tap his shoulder. "Hey, boy. Do you need to use the potty?"
BJ frowns. "Why would I need that?"
I’m about to say, Because I think you’re wetting yourself. But I stop myself in the nick of time.
I don't know what it is that causes me to pause.
