Page 8 of Snuggle Bug

I bury my face in Greyson’s chest, moaning as I fight off tingles. Greyson touches his cock while thinking about me. I couldn’t have anticipated hearing that. At all.

Not even a little bit. For the longest time, I assumed he didn’t want me. Five months ago, I was certain he was asexual. I had to look up the definition of asexual after I saw someone mention it in a video on TikTok. I wrote it down in my personal diary, along with a note that said, This is Greyson.

Now, I learn that I was wrong. Greyson is very sexual indeed, and he fantasizes about me while I’m studying my boring assignments. The thought turns me on so much that I find it tough not to burst into a happy song.

"I had no idea."

Greyson shakes his head. "I know you didn’t. I kept it from you."

"How didn’t I see you masturbating while you were bathing me?"

"I went quick. Hand down my pants, only to touch my cock for a bit, and it shot out. It’s never happened that quickly for me before. Didn’t even take a minute. I had to pretend like everything was normal when in reality I was dripping in cum. It seeped down my legs, messing my PJs, and it stayed that way until after I’d tucked you into bed so I could sneak to the bathroom, and use your bathwater to clean myself."

This time, my gasp is audible. "You used my bathwater after me?"

"Yeah." Greyson looks me in the eyes. "I do. I apologize if you find that offensive, but it’s there, it contains your essence, and I sometimes bring myself to a second orgasm in the tub. It’s only to help me stave off the raging desire I feel for you when we go to bed at night. I must jerk off otherwise I’ll tell you that I’ve changed my mind, that I want your gift—no, that I demand it—and take what I’m no longer sure you’d give me if you saw the crazed, feral, animalistic look in my eyes."

"You wet yourself like I do, Daddy. Only in a different way. With cum. Not exactly like me."

I like to make lemonade in my onesie sometimes. Not every day, because it requires clean-up and that’s never as fun as doing it. But when I’m especially tingly, I’ll take Greyson’s hand in mine, give him a knowing nod, and let go. I scrunch my face together while I do it, and he knows what’s happening.

Once in a while, I’ll do it right at the kitchen table when I’m studying. This is when I’m super focused and need to keep my brain on my lessons. If Greyson comes in and realizes that he forgot to put me in a diaper that morning, he’ll sigh as he grabs paper towels to get to work. He carries me in his arms after I’m out of the study zone to the bathroom, removing my wet clothes, and washing me.

I always apologize, and at the start of our relationship, I got teary-eyed because I was making him do so much unnecessary work. I’ll never forget what he told me one day. He planted a kiss on my tummy, held my hips still, and said: "Never feel bad for being yourself around me."

Greyson fails to repress a chuckle. "You’re not wrong there. I don't think I’ve ever wet myself the way you do."

I playfully swat his arm again. "Hey, now."

Greyson turns to stare at me, and emits a sigh. His eyes burrow into mine, his gaze so profound and all-encompassing that I can tell he’s staring into my soul.

This is what I love most about Greyson. He sees me. Really sees me. For the first time in my life, I’ve met someone who understands who I am.

"So, it’s not that I’m not attracted to you—as you now know. It’s that I’m too attracted to you and want to keep myself in check."

"Daddy." Leaning in, my breath hitches as I place my right hand on his chest. My cock aches so badly that I press my kneecaps together, holding them in place, as if that’ll make me calm down. It doesn’t. Duh. "You’ve seen me wet my onesie with no diaper and cleaned up the mess I made on the floor. You’ve washed every inch of my body, even when I’m really dirty. You’ve even changed my diaper even after I’ve played all day and you never protest. By now, I was certain that you’d run from me. I’d never run from you. If anything, it’d be the other way around."

Greyson gives me so much more than I give him. A safe house, healthy food, snacks, toys, study space, and a place to be myself. He never judges me, never tells me what I ought not to do or say. He embodies true acceptance in every way.

Agape. That’s Greek for everlasting love. That beautiful word could also be Greyson’s middle name.

Greyson’s jaw ticks. "What if I told you that there were things you did that drove me to the brink of insanity? Or outfits you wore that you thought were simply cute that made me want to fuck you?"

My cock throbs, every inch burning. A hot bead of cum travels up my tubes and slips out of the tip.

"I’ve never heard you speak that way."

"Your dick looks awfully hard right now."

"I'm ready, Daddy. You didn’t listen before."

I try to speak more, but invisible cotton fills my mouth. All that comes out is a pathetic mumble.

I strain my ears to hear his response. However, as soon as he starts speaking in that sexy low voice of his, my will to stay awake fades.

I slump onto his chest, snoring gently, unable to keep my eyes and ears open any longer. "Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be so mad if you don't let me sleep."

My cock is so hard.