Page 20 of First Class Feelings

He stares at me for a minute and then moves with me behind the curtain.

“You want me to help you?” he clarifies.

I nod again.

Then he's tugging at my top and my trunks, bearing me to him in a way that we haven't explored yet. I ignore how it makes me feel because I really want to focus on whether or not I'm comfortable in the swimsuit. I don’t want to think about how time has aged me. I’m not young and toned like he is. My body is weathered despite staying in decent shape.

I need to know if this is going to be okay. If I'm going to be okay. Because if not, then we just need to leave, and I'll consider this entire thing a bust.

As he slides the fabric up my legs and over my body, I try to suck in to make it fit.

He pokes at my soft belly, and it admonishes me. “No, little one. I like you just the way you are.”

I let out the breath I'm holding. He adjusts the fabric around my length and stomach, then pulls it up and slides my arms through their appropriate spots.

When I'm done, he spins me around in a circle, his face carefully blank. “Why don't you go look in a mirror, little one?”

I step around the screen because I remember there being a full wall and mirror on one side of the room.

I take a few steps to get there and then I'm stuck, filled with shock, awe, and confusion. Everything rushes through me because the man I see in the mirror isn't who I feel like I am.

He's radiant and beautiful.

The pink one-piece swimsuit is molded to my body. An old school rotary phone is on the front in black with a silly phrase about calling me anytime. It has sleeves that are big and poofy. It's a bit of a princess swimsuit, if I'm honest. Most likely designed for a woman.

Except the area where my length is, is generous.Maybe this was actually designed for a man.I've never seen a man in an outfit like this one, but that doesn't mean anything.

I turn. “Daddy,” I say, reaching my hand out to him.

He moves behind me, wrapping his arms around me as he leans to look in the mirror as well. “I think you look perfect, little one. This outfit is meant for you.”

I smile, unable to hide how pleased his words make me.

“Let's go,” he says. “I’m ready to play with you. What do you say we build some sandcastles first?”

I nod rapidly, then lace our fingers together. I lead him out this time, my confidence boosted by having him with me. Life is never going to be the same after this trip.

CHAPTER 8

Duval

It’s such a joy to watch my boy playing in the sand. Foster sinks even more into his Little mindset with each minute we’re out here.

As I watch him, my boy drops down slowly and runs his hand over the sand when we first arrive. It's as if he's smoothing it out or testing how it feels.

Once he adjusts, it becomes obvious he’s not going to keep his feelings contained. He grabs handfuls of the dirt and begins flinging it up high, making it rain sand all around him. It lands atop his silver-streaked hair and covers his body.

While I want to tell him to calm down, he laughs so hard I can't bring myself to make him stop. He's overjoyed with his playtime.

It's beautiful to watch.

I want him to be like this always.

I contemplate buying a sandbox for my place back in Bellport. Maybe I can get him one and convince him to come oversometime. Surely that's enough motivation to see me again after this trip.

If I have it my way, we'll be seeing each other often. I can't have too many tricks up my sleeve, can I?

When it becomes obvious he's done with his sand rain show, I tell him we should get to building some sandcastles like we planned. Luckily, there's an entire box of tools available for us to use since we didn’t know to bring our own.

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