Page 5 of A Tall Order (Shade Grown Coffee Boys #1)

I can feel myself slipping into Little space easily around Remi. It feels natural. And that kind of scares me. Sure, he’s been around when I was Little before and that is probably helping the situation that I know him. Add the fact that I haven’t properly let my Little side show like this in years. I’ve missed the freedom that comes with it.

I don’t know how much time passes, but dinner was cleared a while ago and I think a whole movie has played in the background. Remi changed from his work clothes to his own, casual clothes he’d packed before he left home this morning and sat right on the floor with me while I piled all my stuffies around. I changed my clothes again, too, back into the giraffe onesie. It's the only thing I didn’t pack away when I moved in here.

“Okay, so let me get this right.” Remi points to each of the animals as he continues speaking. “Pam-da used to date Elle, but they broke up because Elle was in love with Barry. And now Koka the koala is interested in….?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. I’m sitting crisscross no more than a foot or two in front of him. He is in a similar position, leaning back against the couch. “No, Remi. Pam-da and Elle are married. And now Koka and Kola, both koalas, can be married too!” Koka is the one I bought for myself, while Kola is the one that Remi got for me.

"But what about Barry? Maybe they can be a threesome? They're all bears, right?"

I look at the animals, contemplating how they would all work together with no one being left out. "Koalas aren't bears, Remi."

"They're not? Don't people call them Koala bears, though?"

"They are called marsupials." I pronounce each syllable slowly. I hold up Koka and Kola and look between both of them. "Do you want Barry to join you?"

"Yes, please!" I crack up when Remi goes a high pitched voice for one of the koalas. "We need a real bear to protect us."

I look at Remi, giving him a once over, and laughing again. I turn back to the stuffies in my hands. "Bears are quite nice to have around, if I say so myself."

This time, it's Remi that laughs at the joke. I set them back down on the floor, all in a huddle.

“Oh, okay. I think I get it now. Your stuffies sure do have interesting lives.” I watch Remi reach out toward one of them, pausing until I give a slight nod that he’s okay to pick it up. He picks up Koka. “Don’t tell the others, but I think Koka is the cutest.”

I gasp and snatch up the other stuffies. In a quick second thought, I lean forward to snatch Koka away too but Remi is too fast. He holds the stuffie above his head and laughs. “You can’t say that around them, Remi! They’re all cute. You might hurt their feelings.”

“Actually, you know what?” He sets Koka to the side and then places his hands on my arms and tugs to let the other stuffies fall to the floor around us. I look at them and then back up at Remi. He’s smiling and I smile back. Then I start giggling because Remi’s fingers trail down my arms and land on my inner thigh with how I’m sitting. It tickles. “I think you are the cutest of all of them.”

I laugh more when Remi’s fingers find the sensitive spot on my hip that is super ticklish. I tilt my body a little too far and quickly, his hands go from tickling to pulling me back upright so I don’t hit my head on the floor. From a sitting position it wouldn’t have hurt too bad bumping it on the rug, but I’m grateful either way.

A sudden urge hits me and I straighten up, struggling to stand up quickly. “I gotta potty. I’ll be right back.”

“Wash your hands!” Remi calls after me. I race across the floor and barely make it to the bathroom. Usually I get a little more warning between urge and urgency. It pulls me out of my Little headspace just a bit to question why.

It dawns on me when I tuck myself back into my briefs. I was almost always diapered when I was in Little space. My mind must have just kept that assumption.

Embarrassment rushes through my body at that and I can feel my cheeks flush and tears sting my eyes. I’m trying to wipe them clear when I walk out of the bathroom.

“Austin? What’s wrong, sweetie?” Remi is in front of me in a second. I look up at him and try to smile .

My voice is wobbly when I speak. “I almost had an accident. My brain thought—” I trail off, not wanting to say it out loud. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, there is nothing to be sorry for. Accidents happen. Do you want to keep playing or maybe we can watch a movie? It’s getting pretty late already. We don’t have to wake up early tomorrow, so you can stay up as late as you want for tonight. But just tonight, okay?”

“Can we cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?” He nods easily and I wrap my arms around him again in a hug. I like hugging Remi. I count to ten in my head, slowly, before letting him go. He grabs the blanket and sits first. He pats the spot beside him, but that isn’t the kind of cuddling I want.

I plop down onto his lap without warning and smile when he lets out a surprised grunt. “Sorry.” I do feel a bit bad, but not enough to move. “I just wants to be closer.”

“I’m okay with that,” he says easily. “Just remember you have a bony tush, Austin. Need to be careful plopping down on my lap.”

I rock my hips side-to-side in his lap and it gets a laugh out of him. His hands land on my hips and stills me. “Alright, alright. Grab the remote for me and then we can cuddle up for the night.”

I stand quickly to grab it from the other end table while Remi reclines the seat back. He shifts just slightly and I fit my body in the space between him and the arm rest. He’s warm and smells like a spicy cologne. My other Daddy always smelt like a rainstorm. I like both of them. Instead of feeling sad about that, it makes me smile.

“Comfy?” Remi asks once the blanket is tucked around both of us. His left arm wraps around my back, fingertips dancing lightly over the fabric. It’s soothing. His other hand is holding the remote toward the TV. My right arm is kind of trapped between our bodies, but my left hand moves to stroke against his beard.

“Comfiest,” I respond. “I like your beard.”

“Well thank you,” he says. He turns his head slightly and his beard brushes against my face where my head is resting on his shoulder. “Do you still like it?”

I giggle and blindly reach up to turn his face away from me. I let my fingers trail down his beard once more and then dance over his chest. I draw patterns on his shirt: hearts, rockets, letters. It’s just a plain white t-shirt but it’s tight across his chest. I laugh to myself and poke where I can see his nipple through the thin fabric.

“Hey now!” Remi calls out and moves his hand from my back to tickle at my sides. “What’s that for?”

I shrug. “You’re taking too long to pick a movie.”

“If you would look at the screen instead of me, you could help me pick one out.”

I sit up slightly, letting out an unexpected yawn. Going from playing to cuddling is already making me sleepy. “Oh, the one with the birdie please! I love that movie.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen this one,” Remi says. He chooses it and we wait for it to load. I settle back down against his body. I’m cocooned in a blanket of warmth, both from the actual blanket and from him. “Do you promise to not spoil everything for me?”

“Pinkie promise!” I hold up my left hand and he holds his right. We lock pinkies for a second before dropping our hands to his stomach. Our pinkies remain locked .

I don’t remember getting past the opening scene before I’m asleep.

I wake up in the same spot I fell asleep. So much for one of us taking the bed, because I’m currently splayed across Remi’s body, my head resting on his shoulder and facing the framed photo of myself and Paul, my Daddy. My first Daddy.

Remington shifts underneath me and our bodies rut together unintentionally. I pull away, squarely in my big headspace. And adult me knows that that is a line we can’t cross.

“Um, sorry for sleeping on you. We must have both fallen asleep.” I mumble the apology as I untangle myself and stand up. Once again, my bladder is calling for relief and I use it as my escape. Remi seems to still be asleep when I shut the bathroom door.

My cock is hard. Like, more than the typical morning wood hard.

Last night was amazing. There wasn’t even an ounce of sex or any type of tension between us. Remington was just giving me what I needed, some time to let my problems go and express myself in a safe space. But my mind isn’t catching up with the difference that it isn’t Daddy out there waiting for me.

It’s not my Daddy.

I turn the shower on and brush my teeth while I let it warm up. We have a long day ahead and I know I’m going to be bouncing between emotions and headspaces today as we got through all the stuff. So, taking care of certain things now makes the most sense .

I finish brushing my teeth and strip down for a shower. The steam clears my mind, but I waste no time wrapping my hand around my cock. I keep the water on my back and brace one hand against the far wall as I slide my hand up and down my shaft. I’m already leaking, small drops of precum dripping to the shower floor.

I tighten my fist, squeezing on an upstroke, and teasing my slit with a blunt nail. My legs quiver at the sensation. I move my other hand to tug on my balls and the feeling drives me on faster. I’m panting and moaning, sure that if Remington stood right outside the door he’d be able to tell what I was doing now.

I drop my head and watch myself. It’s only been myself and my hand for the past three years. Well, on occasion, the dildo in the bottom drawer of my bedside table. I collect the next beads of precum on my fingers and rub it into my shaft to soften the glide. I run my thumb on the ridge of my head just as I feel the first tingly feelings of my orgasm spread.

“Fuck,” I whisper, drawing out the word with the first spurt of cum against the shower wall. I continue to pump my hand, drawing out the orgasm until I can’t stand it myself. I let my body slump forward to rest my head against the wall to catch my breath. It's over quickly, but much needed. Even with myself, it’d been a while.

A knock on the door fills the room and I jump to attention. I stick my head out of the shower curtain and call out, “Yeah?”.

“I was just going to let you know I’m making breakfast. I have coffee brewing too.”

“Okay, thank you. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Do you mind if I take a shower after you?” I glance back at the spot where I can still see my own cum dripping down the wall. I’ll have to spend an extra minute making sure I clear all the evidence away. More than I usually would.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I have plenty of towels in here too.”

“Okay,” Remington says on the other side of the door. “Don’t take too long. Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, D—”

Whoa. No. No. It’s just my brain messing with me. I was thinking about my Daddy and I just got myself off. I am certainly not thinking about Remington as my Daddy. Maybe having all this Little time is just confusing my brain more than it should. The memory of almost having an accident last night comes to mind too.

I’ll have to talk to Remington about it.

I finish my shower quickly after that, making double sure to use the detachable sprayer to clean the wall. I wrap the towel around my waist and open the door. The house smells amazing, but I can’t place it exactly. It’s sweet. Delicious.

I move to my room and dry off. I don’t know how the day is going to go, so I settle on a pair of black sweats with my favorite hoodie. It’s comfort over style today.

Remington is listening to music and washing dishes when I walk back out. The kitchen sink is set on the outside wall of the house, with a window that looks over the driveway and to the neighbor's house. I have a curtain that usually covers the window for privacy, but Remington has pulled it open this morning to let in sunlight. Same for the living room windows as well; the curtains are tied back enough that the overhead light isn't needed.

“Oh, are those muffins?” I ask, my line of sight zeroing in on the Blueberry goodness that is sitting on the counter. I reach for one, but without me seeing, Remington has spun around and catches my wrist. His fingers are sudsy and hold my arm from going any closer.

“Sorry, but they just came out. The pan and muffins need to cool down.” Remington drops my hand. “I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

“Oh, sorry. Thank you.” I lean my back against the corner of the open door frame. “You didn’t have to do-”

“I wanted to,” he says quickly. He turns back to what he was washing. There's a silence between us and I can see the tension in Remington's shoulders. “Do you want to talk about last night?”

“What about it?” I ask genuinely. “I thought it went okay?”

“Austin.” Remington says my name almost like I should know what he’s talking about. “Yes, the Little side of it was fun and I enjoyed it. Don’t get me wrong. You don’t feel like we maybe crossed a line with falling asleep like that?”

I scrunch my brows together in confusion. I hadn’t thought that, until now. I move fully into the kitchen and stand next to him. I place my hands on the counter, secretly picking at my nail bed on my right thumb. “Do you? I didn’t really think about it. I remember plopping down on your lap and us talking a bit before I fell asleep. Should I have just gone to my room?”

I loved last night. It was innocent and fun and safe. I don’t regret anything, but it makes me sad to think maybe he does. He rinses the final dish and dries his hands before turning to me.

“I don’t regret it, Austin.” His eyes are serious. So is his expression. “But I just want to make sure that we’re doing this to make you comfortable. I don’t want anything to happen that you might regret or it might be too much too soon for you. ”

I back out from bringing up what I told myself I would talk to him about. Maybe later in the day. Or tomorrow. I take his hand in mine and smile. “I don’t think anything we did last night was too much for me. I enjoyed myself.”

“And you’ll tell me if you’re feeling uncomfortable?” Remington searches my face and I hope it relays the honesty in my words.

“Of course I will. But you have to tell me if anything is too much for you too. I know this isn’t exactly a typical situation we’re in, with our history, but I’m enjoying it so far.”

“Okay, good. That’s all I needed to hear." He rolls his shoulders, like my words were the thing he needed to let it go. "Now, let’s see if these muffins are cooled enough yet. Go sit at the table and I’ll bring it to you.”

“Thank you,” I say and do as he says.

When he brings me my plate, it’s filled with more than a muffin. There are orange and apple slices, a dollop of peanut butter, the muffin, and a glass of milk. He goes back into the kitchen for his matching breakfast.

“I’ll have to run to the store at some point today to get stuff for tacos,” Remington says between bites. “Did you want to go with me or hang out here?”

“I might just hang out here,” I say. “Depending on what we can get through and all.”

“If any of that gets too hard for you, I need you to tell me.”

“I will, Remington. I promise, I’ll be okay to go through it.” I give him a smile before shoving a quarter of the muffin in my mouth.

“Small bites, Austin.” Remington immediately admonishes me and scoots the glass of milk closer. “Chew carefully. I don’t want you choking. ”

I roll my eyes at him playfully, but I do as he says and wash it down with the cold milk. We finish breakfast and Remington takes our dishes to the sink and washes them quickly. I’ve never had such an empty sink for so long. I usually let them pile until I don’t have anything else to cook with or eat off of. Not the best way to do it, but I swear dishes have secret dish sex and multiply if you leave them overnight.

“Are you ready?” Remington offers his hand to me and I take it, letting him pull me from the seat and to the spare bedroom. I take a shuddering breath and nod, giving Remington the permission to open the door for the first time in six months.

Cardboard boxes sit everywhere. Some are stacked, others are on their own. There are black scribbles on the sides to remind me what is in each box. I count ten boxes. And I know there are a few things tossed into the closet as well. A tote of embroidered items my Daddy made and a couple of photo albums.

“Okay, so I say if we move all the boxes to one side of the room and go through them one-by-one together. You can decide if you want to keep it with you, keep it packed away, or possibly donate or trash it. Does that sound good?”

“I guess so,” I say. I’m nervous. I don’t know why because Remington has seen all of this stuff already. At least most of it. He’s a Daddy himself and no virgin. He's played with other Littles so the toys won't be anything new, most likely has dressed them and even diapered them if the moment called for it. I wonder exactly what his preferences are and ask that as he cuts through the tape on the first box.

“What do you mean?” Remington glances up at me and smiles. We’re sitting across from each other on the carpeted floor. I haven’t completely abandoned this room for the time I've lived here. I come in and vacuum, knock down any spiderwebs in the corners, that sort of thing.

“With the whole age play,” I say matter-of-factly. “I know you have a membership to the club and you do scenes and stuff. I don’t remember you ever bringing a Little of your own around, but you’re really good at it. Even years ago, you would play with me and just go with everything like it was natural.”

“First off, it is natural. There’s nothing wrong with age regression play or kink. Second, I don’t really have a preference. It depends on the person, I guess. I’ve done scenes with different boys. Some were more Middles and liked video games or sports, some regressed fully until they were non-verbal. I like being able to play though, make up stories and have fun, but also cuddle and diaper them, dress them.”

“And do you like the naughty touches during play times?” Why? Why did I just ask that? My brain is really on a roll today with not thinking clearly. “I mean, I’m sorry. That’s personal.”

“You’re allowed to be curious and ask questions, Austin.” Remington is almost done pulling all the items out of this first box but I haven’t looked at a single one yet. “To answer the question, I don’t mind it either way. As long as it’s communicated beforehand and my boy knows what the safety word is and understands it. I like the dialogue it creates. I won’t do it if I don’t think their Little headspace will keep them from safe wording.”

That is really smart, and I’m completely ignoring the way more than just my brain agrees with that statement. I took care of that in the shower for a reason, but talking about this so openly with Remington is nice. My Daddy and I would do some stuff, especially during bath times, but by the time the water drained, we’d either stop or I’d be coming out of my Little side and we’d move things to the bedroom. The thought of doing more was intriguing.

“What do you mean by dialogue?”

Remington finally moves the box out from between us and I look to the floor at the items. Most of them are toys. A few action figures and dolls, a baby doll I forgot about, and a couple of smaller blankets. I examine each one while Remington talks.

“Phrases that can be said during sex while my partner is Little that would be… stilted? I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but things that your society-deemed typical couple wouldn’t think to say. Like you said, calling it naughty touches and things like that. I can’t really tell you specifics as it just happens in the moment, but talking during sex, laughing, having fun, is a big turn on for me and I’ve found I enjoy it both when my partner is in Little space or not. If that makes any sense.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, Daddy and I used to do things like that,” I say. I look up from the baby doll to Remington. “Is it okay I still call him Daddy around you?”

“It’s fine, Austin.” Remington unfurls one of the blankets to reveal the design throughout. He starts folding again immediately. “We both agreed to a temporary thing for you to get some much needed Little time in. Paul was your Daddy, and a damn good one too if all these boxes are filled with toys and spoils for you.”

I sigh but smile, holding on to the other blanket now. “I think he was upset with himself sometimes because he couldn’t afford a membership to the club for us to go so he overcompensated a bit. But I didn’t need that. I loved just being at home with him, eating dinner, playing together. Bath time was always my favorite. I’m sure one of these boxes hold all my bath toys. I’d like to keep those for sure. ”

“Keep the rubber duckies and boats, got it.” I choose to keep the baby doll and one each of the action figure and doll before putting the others in a donate pile. “Is that something you would like to do this weekend? A bath with your toys?”

“I’ll think about it,” I say honestly. I would love a bath with bubbles and toys. The thought of Remi seeing me naked is a line I don't know if I want to cross or not. Maybe I could wear my underwear?

We go through four more boxes like that, going back and forth to ask about each other’s preferences and experiences. A lot of our preferences align and for some reason, that makes my stomach swoop a bit more with each new reveal. I slip in and out of both headspaces. I don’t fully regress, but seeing some of my old toys has me getting sidetracked easily and Remi has to remind me to focus over and over.

“Austin?” Remi gets my attention from where I’m laying on my stomach sorting through a container of toy cars. The racecar rug is laid out in the middle of the floor, courtesy of Remi. I look up with a smile, totally relaxed about going through these boxes. All the pressure and scary thoughts of going through the things alone are gone as Remi asks questions about items or simply lets me take a minute to play with something he pulls out of the box. “Do you need to go potty? We’ve been in here for a little while.”

“Oh, um, maybe.” I don’t really feel like I need to go, but after last night I appreciate that he is asking.

“How about we stop for lunch now?” I nod again at his question. “What would you like to eat?”

“Can we do soup and grilled cheese?” I smile and set the box of cars to the side.

“Of course we can. Go wash up and I’ll get it started.”