Page 28 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

Peels of giggles. All of the littles, whether or not I’m attracted to them, are so cute that all I really want to do is cuddle them.

“Cowboy Daddy, would you play Twister with us?” Aggie asks.

“It’d be my pleasure, little lady,” I drawl and follow the flock of littles who run off to set up the game.

Logan ends up calling out the colors and body parts while Emily and I form a team, facing off against Aggie and Cynnie. Since I know that Emily does Pilates, I figure between her flexibility and my reach, we have this in the bag.

I reckon without that magical giggle. It shoots right to my groin, particularly once Cynnie gets underneath me with herround butt nearly in my face. Trying to hold position with the swelling in my pants is nearly impossible. The next call has me reaching completely over Cynnie’s back with her head under my belly and all I can think of is if she turns her head, she could put her mouth right on my dick.

Aggie falls first. Emily goes down when we get a “remove right foot” followed by “right hand yellow” which puts her in an impossible position of reaching over both me and Cynnie. Laughing, she falls to her side. Cynnie manages to balance on her right foot and right hand after the next “remove left foot” but she’s wriggling all over trying to hold position, brushing my body with every wobble, and wiggling so wildly my cock’s about to burst through my jeans.

“Left foot blue,” Logan calls.

That gets Cynnie stable again. With her free left hand, she reaches back and tugs my beard.

I collapse, laughing, and take her down under me.

“No fair!” she complains from under the sprawl of my arms and legs.

“Cowboy Daddy wins,” I crow, rolling to the side so I’m not crushing her, although she makes no attempt to get out from underneath me.

She turns on her side and pokes her finger into my chest. “You cheated.”

“Last person to the mat wins. Purty sure that was me, little lady.”

She dissolves in giggles and I can’t help but laugh with her.

“Would you like to have dinner with me after playgroup?” she asks when her giggles die down.

The awkward gap that follows is filled, thank God, by Emily, who pounces on me with a teddy bear wearing a blue coat and a big gold medallion that says “winner.” I admire it for a second and then turn it over to Cynnie.

“You were the real winner,” I say. “You wouldn’t have gone down if I hadn’t taken you down.”

She accepts the bear with a small smile, then climbs up off the mat and walks away.

I look to Emily, who shrugs. “I said we’d help Miss Ginger clean up.”

It’s not that I don’t want to have dinner with Cynnie. It just came out of the blue. And her sudden switch from giggling little playing Twister to big girl asking me out gave me whiplash.

I climb to my feet, put the cowboy hat in the hat box, and help Ginger collect plates and cups and sort them into the garbage and recycling. By the time I look around again, Cynnie’s gone. After the tables are cleared, I help put everything back the way we found it, then sit at a table with Logan, Emily, Warrin, Aggie, Jack, and Sammie. Mary Lisa comes over and stands next to me with her stuffed puppy and purse in her hands. I turn the chair so I’m facing her, and our conversation is a little removed from the rest of the group.

“I just wanted to welcome you to the group again, Max,” she says.

“Thank you, Mary Lisa. I really appreciate the warm welcome.”

“You’ll be back in two weeks, right?”

I nod. Despite the rocky moments today, I’m definitely coming back.

“If you had any questions between then and now, you could call me,” she offers. “Miss Ginger will give you a list of everyone’s number and if their Fetlife profile is public, their Fetlife name. You could friend me on Fetlife.”

“Okay, thanks for that.” I don’t have a Fetlife profile, although I’m aware of the site. I guess I know what I’m doing when I get home.

She stands there for a moment, looking down at her stuffie, then says, “Could I get a hug goodbye?”

“Sure.” I stand and hug her without pulling her to my chest. She doesn’t try to throw herself at me, either, and pats my biceps before she steps back.

“It was really nice to meet you.”