Page 27 of Lakeside Little
“No,” I shook my head and raised the back of my arm to my forehead, as if I was about to swoon to the ground. “I’m just—” I sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t believe I’m falling for a guy who puts pineapple on pizza,” I said, snickering. “I’m gonna miss you when you’re locked up beside the fish on pizza people.”
Daddy pulled me into his arms and squeezed me, wiggling with me on the spot. “I already told you about that sass. But I’ll accept that pineapple on pizza isn’t for everyone. I’m also going to say that when I do go to jail for food crimes, that you come and visit me, ok?” He gave my ass a squeeze as we continued to wiggle together.
“I pwomise.”
“Good boy.” He kissed my forehead. “Now, let’s go ahead and get some of this dough rolled out. I’ve already got a shape picked out for mine.”
The realization that I could make my pizza into any shape I wanted now. This freedom had to be used wisely. Although, I couldn’t think of any shapes now, except for the boring circles.
“What shape are you going to use?” I asked him.
“That’s a surprise.”
“Is it possible to make a—” I paused. “No. That’s not going to be possible. Too many hard lines.”
“What are you thinking?” he asked, pulling out the dough from a small drawer under the oven. It was all puffed up and huge.
“Too many things. I think I’ll go with a face, well, a teddy.”
“Oo, good idea.” He sprinkled flour on the counter, and I watched, half-transfixed by what he was doing.
“Is that what you were going to do?”
“Nope. You’ll see what I’m doing.”
I really wanted to push his buttons. I’d just woke up from a nap, it was in a little’s nature to button push when they were -eepylike me. Daddy chopped parts off from the dough, commenting on how he’d made way more than we needed.
It was surprisingly easy to roll out and shape into the teddy bear face, and while I was doing that. I saw the shape Daddy was going for. It was a love heart, and it looked so much better than mine. I kinda wanted to swap, but he was already steps ahead of me with all the toppings on his pizza, including the dreaded pineapple chunks.
“Ok, you’ve got a great shape,” he said.
“And what about the pizza?” I giggled.
I came up behind me and suddenly we were in the pottery scene fromGhost.Using my hands with his, he helped me stretch out the edges of the pizza to stop it from being too thick and cooking unevenly. I would have though this man had years of experience in a pizza restaurant with the way he was guiding me.
“Now, the toppings,” he said with my hand on his, we pulled at the ladle inside the pant with sauce and gently spread it across my pizza bear face.
A shiver nearly ruined the entire thing as my hand jolted slightly. “Have you always been a construction worker or do you have some secret history?”
“I told you, I’m a quick study, and the internet has guides on everything. This is the easiest one I’ve ever followed,” he said, kissing the back of my neck. “Now, let’s sprinkle cheese, it’s good and crumbly. I promise you’ll like it.”
“Gouda? I thought you said it was goat,” I giggled.
“You’ll like it,” he said snickered.
“I think it has an unfair advantage because it’s on top of a pizza, and all cheese melted is good,” I said, although I couldn’t count for all the cheeses in the world, but definitely cheddar, that was the main one. Right?
With both the pizzas in the oven. We laid around on the ground in front of my doll house. I laid on his chest and he ran his fingers through my hair, drawing softly against my scalp.
“I’ve got this really fluffy rug at my house,” he said. “It’s still rolled up. I really enjoyed the feeling of tit between my fingers, and I bet it would feel incredible between my toes as well.”
“Why don’t you have it out?”
“Better question, why is my house still mostly in boxes?”
