“Yes, Sir,” She mumbles, her doe eyes wide now.
I release her and turn to leave the room, not stopping until I’ve shut the door behind me. I run a hand through my hair. What the fuck have I just started?
There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea, but I started it, and I intend to see it through. I head to the kitchen and start opening cabinets, the pantry, the freezer, the fridge. In the end, I choose frozen dinosaur chicken nuggets and mac and cheese from a box. These are things she has a lot of, so I assume she enjoys eating them.
My brain is running at full speed as I pop the nuggets in the oven and set a pan on the stove to boil water. I kissed Eve. Jesus, I kissed her. And I liked it. I’m not sure she was her adult self at the time. And I suspect she isn’t sure either. She doesn’t mix sex with her kink. I might have crossed a line. It won’t happen again. For the next two hours, I will show her that she can be herself in her own home.
The smallest sound behind me makes me turn around to find her leaning in the doorway, peeking around the corner really. I glance at my watch. “One minute to spare. Good job.” I’m out of my element, and yet, I’m also not. This isn’t as hard as I suspected.
I don’t comment on her appearance. I try not to look too hard either. She’s wearing a tight white T-shirt with a pink bear on it and a pink skirt that matches the bear. It’s short. Really really short. Her feet are bare. Her hair is in pigtails.
“Why don’t you pick out a movie while I finish dinner? We can eat in the living room.”
Her eyes go wide. She starts to speak then stops herself, glancing away. “Okay,” she murmurs as she shuffles toward the couch. She turns on the tv and scans through the channels, settling on a cartoon station.
I keep half an eye on her while I cook the macaroni and pour us both a drink. Mine is a glass of soda. I take my cues from Davis and the contents of Eve’s refrigerator and cabinets and decide to fix her a sippy cup of part apple juice, part water.
When I take it to her ahead of the meal, she tips her head back and stares up at me. “Thank you,” she finally murmurs.
I know her mind is wired for more though. She proved that in the bedroom. And it’s so easy to get her to shift deeper into her role. The one I know she craves. All I have to do is lift a brow.
She bites that lower lip again and then rephrases, “Thank you, Sir.”
I pat her head instinctively and return to the kitchen. Damn, this is odd. Beyond odd. But not in a bad way. Just…different. Outside of my wheelhouse. Eve is more relaxed already though, so this is what we’re going to do.
I finish cooking and prepare two plates. I bring her a pink plastic plate and a short chubby plastic fork, things I found in her cabinets. The shock on her face makes my chest tighten. She takes the plate from me carefully. “I can eat on the sofa?” she asks, her voice incredulous.
“Uh, sure. Just this once.” I try to sound stern.
She smiles. “Thank you, Sir.”
I can’t stop watching her as she digs into the food.
“Do you want catsup or something to dip your nuggets in?”
She makes a pained face. “Bleh. Gross.”
I chuckle as I return to the kitchen and grab my plate. Can’t say I’ve eaten chicken nuggets or mac and cheese from a box in a long time, but I don’t mind. It’s actually better than fast food.
I sit on the other end of the sofa, balancing my plate in my lap while I eat. The tv is in the middle of an animated movie about some animals, and I find myself sucked in.
This entire thing may be completely from the upside-down, but it’s what Eve needs, so I’ll do this for her. Every night I’m here. I hope that will work.
When she’s done eating, she carries her plate to the sink and sets it inside. She returns to the sofa, picks up her sippy cup, then crawls across the cushion toward me. Her gaze never leaves the tv as she settles on her side, her cheek on my thigh.
I set my plate on the end table so as not to disturb her and smooth my hand down her pigtail, resting it on her hip in the end.
She sighs, relaxing further by the minute. It’s mesmerizing to watch, and eventually, her eyes grow heavy and she falls asleep curled up next to me.
There are so many problems with this picture I can’t even enumerate them. First and foremost, I’m fucking infatuated with this woman. I can’t begin to explain how or why, but I am. Not just her adult. Her little is adorable too. My mouth is dry. My cock is hard again.
I continue stroking her hip because I have been doing so for an hour. The swell of her small breast is impossible to ignore. The tip of her nipple is tempting. Apparently, she doesn’t wear a bra when she’s little. Her skirt is so short that it has risen up enough for me to catch the edge of pink cotton panties.
I force myself to stop staring, tip my head back against the cushions, and close my eyes. I try to rationalize this situation and why I find it sexy and smoking hot. I’ve never been in a situation like this, but I’m a dude. I watch porn. I’ve masturbated more than once to the vision of a woman pretending to be a schoolgirl, pigtails and all. It’s no wonder I’m turned
