Page 47 of Kit

“Yes, we do.”

“I’m excited. Are you?”

“Very excited. I love that you planned that.”

“Me, too.” I latched onto the back hem of his sweater, burying my face in his back. Holding on, I followed him into the kitchen and stayed near him as he fixed us a simple breakfast.

“We’ll go out for lunch today, okay?”

I nodded into his back.

He turned. I turned with him.

“What is it, baby boy?”

“I just want to be touching you right now, Daddy.”

It was weird. Since I came this morning in his hand, I couldn’t bear to be apart from him. We had even showered together.

But I needed something more. I wasn’t sure how to articulate it. I hugged my Christmas bear hard and buried my face in his sweater again.

Parker turned his upper body and reached back. He groped my side and stroked it as best as he could.

“You can touch me all you want, baby,” he said.

He did everything for the meal. I was helpless, adrift, still reeling from the sensation of his cock on—but not in—my ass. Still hazy from last night when he wore his Santa coat to bed.

Parker set out the plates and cups and food. But he didn’t set me a place. He said, “Kit baby, I think you need extra attention. You’re going to eat in Daddy’s lap this morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to feed you because I think you’re extra little right now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

Parker sat and helped lift me as I straddled his lap. He served us each a plate of eggs and bacon side by side. He had a regular glass of orange juice next to a pink and blue sippy cup.

“I’ve never seen that cup before, Daddy,” I said.

“I’ve been saving it for when you need it.”

“I love it, Daddy.”

He handed it to me. I had to set the bear down to take it in both hands. Apple juice. My favorite. I’d never had to tell him. Somehow, Parker knew.

“I love apple juice, Daddy.”

“Me, too.” He had a golden glass full for himself, as well as coffee.

He offered me sips from his coffee mug, but I didn’t get my own. Like he’d said correctly, I was too little.

Parker fed me eggs, bacon and buttered toast one bite at a time, using a napkin on me after each bite, then taking bites from his own plate.

“It’s good, Daddy. Thank you for breakfast.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like it.”