Page 126 of Ride With Me

“Gotta run. Bye!”

And with that, the call ends.

Sadly, I’m no closer to knowing how to handle this situation when I head back into the small apartment. The more I look around, the more I realize that I should have seen the signs. There are stuffies on the worn couch, and action figurines on the little, square dining table, as well as a stack of coloring books and a small bucket of colored markers. The desk pressed against the wall between the dining area and the living area is also littered with figurines, and the DVDs on the shelf next to the TV are all kids’ movies.

Shaking my head, I cross the space and take a steadying breath before I step back into the bedroom…where I freeze in my tracks.

I wasnotexpecting to find Bear rubbing his stuffed tiger over his crotch.

His eyes are closed, his head thrown back in ecstasy. His red hair is wild, having air dried after his bath, lending him an ethereal vibe as he grinds up into his toy.

My cock plumps back up, finding the sight erotic even while my brain struggles to understand why I’m not freaking out more over this age-play thing.

Maybe Anson was right: maybe my inherent desire to take care of people extends to…Daddying? Is that even a word?

I swallow roughly as Bear moans, pressing his stuffie harder against his crotch, his fingers tightening in the fur.

Why is that so fucking hot?

He makes another plaintive sound and I decide it’s unfair to watch him when he obviously doesn’t know I’m here, so I clear my throat.

Baron freezes and his eyes fling open. His cheeks turn bright red, and he looks at me guiltily.

“I…” he starts, then stops and bites his lip.

The part of me which had planned on apologizing and leaving is silent. Instead, I’m ridiculously horny and genuinely curious. Cocking my head, I ask, “What were you doing, Baby Bear?”

His chest rises and falls, and he swallows audibly. “Playing?”

“Playing?” I repeat with an amused chuckle, inching closer to the bed. “Do you play with your stuffies like that a lot?”

Back to chewing his bottom lip, Baron looks down at his lap and nods.

“I see.”

“I wanted to wait for you, Daddy,” he blurts, seemingly surprising himself as much as he surprises me. “But then I started thinking about how good you made me feel in the bath and when you fixed my ouchies…and my penis gotreallyhard.”

It’s so cute the way he says “penis” instead of “cock” or “dick.” I don’t know why, but it is. Struggling to keep a straight face, I try to channel some semblance of Daddy energy. “So instead of waiting for Daddy, you started without me, even though I promised we would talk about how excited we both felt?”

His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. “I didn’t mean to be naughty, Daddy. I promise. I’m really a good boy.”

Well, fuck.

Why doesthatgo straight to my dick, too? Maybe there is something to this kink…no…this lifestyle. And it is, apparently, a lifestyle. One glance around Baron’s room in combination with his consistently childlike personality confirms that it’s really not just about kink for him. Heisa Little.

Could I be a Daddy?

Do I want to be?

My heart thuds rapidly, but not from fear or distaste. It’s from excitement. Nevertheless, I have to come clean with him. If I’m going to try this, Baron has to understand that I’ve got no idea what I’m doing.

His gaze follows me as I walk over to sit beside him on the bed, the mattress dipping under my added weight. I take his hand in mine, smoothing my thumb over his knuckles. “I have to be honest with you, Baron,” I tell him, and his open expression turns guarded. I force myself to continue. “I, uh, I got my wires crossed last night, and again earlier tonight,” I admit. “I didn’t realize that you meant you were after aDaddyDaddy.” He tenses, but he doesn’t pull away. I sigh and explain, “I thought…I thought you were just, y’know, calling me Daddy. Like…light kink?”

“Oh…” His face flushes and now he does tug his hand out of mine, gripping the tiger in his lap for comfort as he looks down, dejection and embarrassment written all over him. “I’m sorry. I thought because you’re best friends with Anson…”

“I know.” I’m not going to tell him I had no clue about my best friend’s kinky side. To be honest, I still don’t know anything about it, only that he’s been visiting a kink club. “But, Bear, I want to try. If you’ll have me.”

I’m afraid he’s going to give himself whiplash with the way his head snaps back up. “What?”

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