Simone turns toward me. “This is my boyfriend, Camden. And I guess you’ve already met my friend Natasha and her boyfriend Jameson.”
Lillian nods as she wipes tears from the corners of her eyes. “Nice to meet you,” she says, addressing me.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
Jameson speaks next. “We’ll go and come back another day.”
Simone shakes her head. “No. Stay. You don’t need to leave. Unless you want to.”
Jameson looks uncertain. His brow is deeply furrowed.
Natasha smiles at Simone. “Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude.”
“I’m sure.”
Lillian glances around at each of us. “I’m the one who’s intruding. You obviously had plans today. I’m sorry to turn up unannounced.”
Simone points toward the kitchen. “Camden made us all hot cocoa. Let’s go drink it. You can tell me what you’re doing here.”
“Do you have marshmallows?” Natasha asks.
I chuckle. “Yes, Little one. What kind of uh…man, doesn’t have marshmallows for hot cocoa?” I almost referred to myself as Daddy. And I did call Natasha Little one. Simone doesn’t seem bothered, though.
When we reach the kitchen, it occurs to me there is no way to hide our dynamic. Simone and I have only been solidly practicing age play together for one day, but already, the kitchen looks like a Little girl lives here. Her chair with the booster seat is next to the table. Two sippy cups are drying on a towel by the sink. Simone’s coloring books and crayons from earlier are on the table. If Simone didn’t want Lillian to see this, we have seriously fucked up.
I point toward the table. “Why don’t you girls sit? I’ll get the cocoa.” Girls. Shit. I never make these kinds of mistakes. I’ve been alone with Simone for over a week. Though we weren’t in hardcore age-play mode, I’ve referred to her as my Little girl all of that time. This is our home. I’m not used to having people who don’t practice age play in my home. I’ve never had anyone who wasn’t into our sort of kink in my space.
“So, it’s true,” Lillian says.
I watch her out of the corner of my eye.
Jameson is helping Natasha onto a chair because it’s what he does.
Simone pulls out a regular chair and sits next to Lillian. “What’s true?” she asks as though she has no idea what her sister is talking about.
Lillian is staring at the booster seat. She knows.
For some reason, that comforts me. It seems this will go easier if Simone doesn’t have to spend the next two hours explaining age play. If Lillian is judgmental, Simone will escort her out of the front door within minutes. I can count on that. She won’t need me to intervene.
If Lillian knows about Simone’s preference for age play, then she surely hasn’t come here to lecture her sister. That would be fruitless. Unless their parents have sent her.
Lillian looks around. “You’re Little.”
Simone smiles. “Yep.”
“And Camden is your Daddy?”
“He is.” Simone sits taller. She’s relieved, too.
I set two cups of cocoa on the table, one in front of Natasha and the other in front of Lillian. “Be careful. It’s still hot.”
Jameson aims for the pantry and returns with a bag of mini marshmallows. He knows my house and everything in it as well as I do. We’re childhood friends. Our parents owned the homes the two of us now live in. It’s a coincidence that we both moved back into our childhood homes around the same time as adults.
I bring the third cup of cocoa to Simone. The moment I set it down, she reaches for it, but I stop her by grabbing her fingers. “What did I just say, Little one?”
“That it’s hot. Sorry, Daddy.” She has stopped calling me Camden, which I’m grateful for. I wasn’t fond of the idea of her reverting to my real name after a day of being called Daddy.
Lillian folds her hands in her lap and watches as Jameson opens the marshmallows.
