Page 7 of Snuggle Bug

"Yes." I wriggle on his body, nodding. "Those boys I ate with were so fun. Christian, Rowan, Karter, Lucas, Macon, and the others. There are too many to name."

Dino Tracks is the ice cream parlor that Christian, who’s a Little, founded with his Daddy Nikolai two years ago. He painted the cutest googly eyed dinosaurs on the walls, and everyone knows that Dino Tracks is pretty much an ice cream parlor for Littles. Lots of the Littles from the Hug Club go there.

Greyson’s thumb massages my thigh. "I’m glad you had good dreams."

My eyes travel down, spotting Greyson’s finger that’s creating an invisible heart over my onesie leg. Oh, that feels good. His thumb is so seasoned, mature, and experienced. He’s drawn hearts on many Littles before, yes he has. I’m the Little he’s decided to lavish all his experience on.

My wee grows hard. It strains under my onesie, pushing against the fabric. I can’t see it from here, but I imagine my pink head is pushing out another droplet of pre-cum.

Sometimes at night, after Greyson falls asleep, I untuck my cock from my onesie if that’s what I’m wearing to bed and beat it. I stifle my moans, trying not to wake him, and capture my cum in my hand. I have to drink it because if I get up to wash it off in the sink, Greyson will hear.

Other times, I do even naughtier things. I peel down Greyson’s pajamas, expose his perfect body, and stare at his cock. Sometimes, the moonlight drifts in through our bedroom window, and I hold the base of his cock under the moonlight, studying its every vein and curve. I trace his inches with my eager eyes, curious and ready to play with that which he refuses to show me.

I pretend not to think about the one time I took Greyson’s dick in my mouth while he was sleeping. I was so horny and it looked so good, except I felt so horrible while doing it that I tore it out of my lips, put it back in his pajamas, and curled up next to him while pretending like it didn’t happen. My heart beat so fast and I started to cry. I did something I shouldn’t have done and Greyson would hate me if he woke up and found out. The night muffled the sound of my sobs, and I forced myself never to do something so rash again. It was a mistake. I never wanted to act without Greyson’s consent.

I try not to think about this night. It fills me with too much guilt, and I feel ashamed to speak about it with Greyson.

"It tickles, Daddy."

"I want to keep talking about the topics we broached before you fell asleep. If that’s something you wish to do, say yes."

"There are some things I’d like to tell you, too, Daddy. So, yes. Let’s keep talking, and maybe we’ll both share new things with one another."

Greyson kisses my temple. "Would you like Daddy to remove this blanket or are you okay if we speak under it?"

I lift my gaze to the top of the blanket, which casts a magical ceiling over our heads. The main cuddle room light is off, but a nightlight that Greyson left plugged in illuminates the top of the blanket, lending it the multi-colored transparency of a rainbow.

I raise my right hand, then trace the pads of my fingers along the fabric. It’s so soft and smooth, and the sensation calms me in a strange way. How odd—touching a blanket shouldn’t help me breathe easier or calm my heart. It does.

"I’m okay like this."

Greyson runs his fingers through my hair. "There’s something I must confess to you. In the bathtub, a time or two, I’ve jerked off while washing you. It happened so quickly that I didn’t even realize what I’d done. I fought to hold off, but I couldn’t. This first time happened while I was washing your hair, except once I did it while cleaning your ass, too. I did this even though I act like I’m Mr. Chastity. I’m a hypocrite. I’m a man, a man with needs, a man with desire for you."

My jaw drops, and a soft gasp escapes me. I turn to Greyson, my heart strumming a harp in my chest, my eyes wide with disbelief.

I trace his face for any hint of deceit. Is he lying? He must be. I refuse to believe this for a second.

"You never said anything." With a tiny, barely audible growl, I punch his shoulder so lightly that there’s no way he even feels it. It’s a playful punch that packs only the tiniest semblance of truth.

Greyson digs his thumb into my thigh. "Hey, boy. Don't hit Daddy."

"I’ve spent an entire year thinking I wasn’t your type."

"I’m only telling you this because you grew upset thinking that I wasn’t attracted to you. It embarrasses me that I’ve done this, quite frankly. It’s impossible for me to tell you how much I want you, because if I started being honest, you’d think it was too much. Let’s just say that you turn me on a whole lot. That’s why I keep my thoughts to myself most of the time and hold back."

"Are we being open now?" I look into Greyson’s eyes, not wanting to say too much or too little. My fingers curl, and I dig my right heel against my left foot, rubbing it up and down as if I’m itching, even though it doesn't scratch the itch of my nerves. "Because I don’t want to speak freely if we can’t truly say what’s in our hearts. I’d rather know ahead of time so I don't make a fool of myself."

Greyson nods. "Yes. I think we are."

I push out a breath. "If so, then can I ask, do you ever masturbate about me when you’re by yourself?"

This is almost too embarrassing for me to ask. I’ve rehearsed this conversation countless times. In my fantasies, I’m cool as a cucumber, calm and collected, not shy to talk about topics that concern sex. Nothing can phase me; bring it on. Except, now that this conversation is happening, I’m almost too shy to say the word masturbate.

Me. Asking Greyson if he beats his cock while thinking about me.

The thought causes my wee to ache more, and it begins to hurt. Past experience tells me that if I don't slip away in a bit to relieve myself, I’ll be achy all night.

"In the shower, I beat off while thinking about you. You’re already busy studying to get your GED at that time of the morning, and so I give myself a little more freedom. I pant and growl, sometimes taking out a sex toy that I keep under the sink behind the toilet paper where you won’t find it and fuck it while pretending that it’s your hole."