Page 71 of Santa’s Little Faker
Because he was a dog with a bone when it came to watching me touch myself.
Okay, maybe ignoring it wouldn’t be the most reasonable decision.
So as we headed to the kitchen to get his bottle, I narrated a bit about what would happen to make sure we were on the same page. “We’re going to cuddle and I’m going to start giving you the bottle, then we’ll start touching time.”
Nothing about the scene seemed to stress him out as I slowly worked through some basic plans, but that was probably because it was his idea.
Not that I was complaining.
No…I was just an overly logical lawyer and sometimes struggled with the obvious, but having the extra time as I filled his bottle and we slowly made our way back to the bedroom gave me a chance to think.
“Cuddle time, Trippy.” Kissing his head, I set the bottle down on the nightstand and patted his bottom, getting a giggle from him. “You get the middle.”
Between giggles, he mumbled something around the binkie as he climbed onto the bed but it was impossible to decipher. Whatever it was, though, he thought it was hilarious and kept giggling as he rolled on the bed and crawled into position, waving his bottom at me.
Yep, it was probably best I didn’t know what he’d said but I loved how funny he thought it was no matter what it was. “I’m not going to ask what’s so funny, Trippy.”
Because it seemed to have something to do with his ass…which admittedly did look even better diapered.
And his wicked giggles were sexier than they probably should’ve been.
And there was just something about how excited he was that made it hard to remember why I’d wanted to go slow to begin with.
“Naughty boy.” That got another snicker from him and he shook his head as he curled up on the pillows. There was just something unexpectedly perfect about it and he looked likethat’d been his place all along…even the way he pointed his finger at me was perfect and gave me the excuse to scoff again. “Me? Never. I’m very sweet.”
That was damned near hysterical for some reason and I was smart enough not to ask. “You can’t make me ask about that reaction. Nope. I don’t have to.”
My drama was nearly just as funny but his laughter wound down as I climbed in beside him on the bed. His mood immediately shifted and he looked adorably naughty as he inched closer until one deep breath would’ve had him touching me.
“Silly boy.” Patting my chest, I chuckled as he squeaked out a happy sound and plastered himself against me with his head high on my chest. When I had my arm wrapped around him and he seemed to have found his perfect position, I kissed his head and reached for the bottle. “This doesn’t count for happy touching. You’re my boy. I need cuddles.”
And having to work to keep himself back from me would not be a good way to get him to relax enough to fall asleep.
But hearing that I needed cuddles got another pleased sound from him and he gently rubbed my chest before his hand went still. Since it was clearly a request for consent, I nodded and shifted closer on the bed to make sure he’d have a good view and good cuddles. “That’s much better.”
It should’ve been awkward at the very least because I’d never started any kind of masturbation like that before, but nothing with Orlando felt awkward.
Slightly confusing, yes.
Awkward, no.
But even pushing back my questions was easy as we snuggled together and he gently stroked my chest. So I ignored everything else and stole his binkie, getting another giggle. “Let’s trade this for something else.”
His naughty giggle said he was thinking about something else other than the bottle, but he took it when I brought the nipple to his lips. “I’m not asking about that either.”
I’d have to tomorrow, though.
But until I had to go through my questions, we’d have fun and relax in a different way.
I wasn’t going to say grown-up because the mix of what I was doing and what he was doing was curious enough that it was definitely its own thing. It was perfect for us, though, because as soon as he settled into a rhythm of sucking, he reached up to hold the bottle.
His fingertips were barely caressing me, but having my hand free let me stroke my own chest as I snuggled him closer. “My sweet boy was my naked boy earlier.”
Nothing in his giggly response said the shift in our conversation upset him, so I gave myself another reminder to stop second-guessing everything.
Just doing it for half would be enough.
“You were wet and giggling when I was getting you all clean.” It hadn’t technically been erotic, but my brain loved going back to the scene as my hand reached the front of my pants. “You’re going to want happy tub time soon.”
