Page 19 of A Little Spilled Milk

“I think… that can be arranged.”

He yanked my jeans and briefs off, and my stiff dick bounded out. Vinnie grabbed lube and a condom from the nightstand and leaned over the bed, pushing his ass high.

I fumbled with the condom and slicked it with lube. Spreading his cheeks, I inserted the tip of my cock. We’d had sex last night, but I was huge and I wanted him to adjust to my girth.

But Vince shoved his ass back, taking me in to the hilt, and we both groaned. I grabbed his hips while he fisted the bedding.

Easing out, I thrust into him, my fingers pressed into his soft flesh.

“Yes!”

11

VINNIE

I wanted to play.

Daddy and I had a date set up, one with reservations and a dress code. When we made the plans, it sounded fabulous. Who doesn’t want to go to one of the best steak houses in the country? But now that the day had finally arrived, all I wanted to do was go to the Little room with Daddy and be cute.

When I looked up the restaurant to check their policies, I decided to forget about my desire to spend the night being Little. They charged a $100 cancellation fee, and I refused to put that on Emory. Instead, I was going to suck it up, be happy happy, and then, if there was time afterward, suggest we head to the club.

Usually, I tried to stay away from there when it got to be that late. There was nothing wrong with the club, per se. They still had the same food, the same rooms open, the same everything… everything except the people. It became far more crowded, and the space outside the Little room had a tendency to get… intense. And that was great for the people who wanted that, but for me, when I was in Little space, it became too much for me.

I popped in the shower, my desire to do more than cleaning up appearing once again. Last time I was with Emory, I asked if I was allowed to jerk off, and it went in a very different direction than I thought it would.

“It’s your body. I won’t tell you what to do with it, unless you ask me to. Is that what you are doing?” He gave nothing away.

I had no clue what the right answer was. Daddy would say there wasn’t one if I asked. He had a preference though, everyone did. Instead of answering him, I sat there, watching his face in a failed attempt to decipher his expression.

“You don’t want to say?”

I shook my head.

“Then tell me, sweet boy, why did you ask? And if you use your words, Daddy will have a treat for you.”

“I asked because… when I wake up and I’m hard or when I’m in the shower and I wish you were there… I want to come, but then when I go to do it, I feel guilty, so I stop.”

He took my hand in both of his. “And you don’t want to stop?”

I shook my head.

“Why do you feel guilty?” Wasn’t that a loaded question.

“Because some Daddies think it’s wrong.”

He didn’t cut in, allowing me to pull my thoughts together at my own pace.

“But you aren’t some Daddies. You are Emory, my Daddy, and it wasn’t fair to put that on you. And I think… the reason I didn’tlike your answer was because I didn’t ask the question I needed to ask.”

He leaned in and kissed me. “That’s part of your award.”

“How do I get the rest?”

Emory gave me theyou know the answerlook he was so good at.

“Ask the right question.”

A nod and a smile.

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