Dada and I stayed at home today while Sir went to work. I watch Dada while he cooks us dinner. The way his arms move and how concentrated he is on mixing the batter for the apple cobbler. I love how muscular his forearms are. I love how they look as he hovers above me, supporting himself on the hands he’s placed by my head. I love being caged under Dada while his knee is being pressed into my crinkly diapey and making me grind on him for any amount of pleasure I can steal through the thick cotton. I love grabbing those forearms as he wraps his big Dada hands around my neck and squeezes. I love feeling the muscles rippling under my hands. I love it when h-
“Baby, are you okay?” You break me out of my trance. I’m sure my face is bright red right now.
I nod my head in response to you, squeezing my thighs together to stop the flow of juices. You must have heard the little crinkle and realized why I was spaced out.
“Does baby need a diapey check?” You’re already walking towards me as I squeak out, “Yes”.