Page 30 of Daddy Bear Picnic

“You’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he said as I sat him on an empty counter in the kitchen. “You wanted to touch my booty.”

“And I’ll do it again.” I winked at him. “Let’s get you upstairs where all the towels are. I’m not gonna let you get a cold in the middle of summer.”

The rain was heard from all over the house as if we were inside a greenhouse, the rain was pelting on the glass. For a moment, I wasn’t sure they would manage to keep the rain out, but it was fine. I got Malcolm undressed, dried, and put in a onesie. Since staying over more, I had more clothes to change into, which was great, otherwise I’d have been stuck here waiting for my clothes to dry… and bless Malcolm’s heart for ever suggesting I could’ve worn his clothes.

“You’re gonna have to go soon,” he said in a sigh.

“You know you can come to the B&B with me.”

He sighed harder. “But it’s raining.”

“My van is like twenty steps away.”

“But it smells in there.”

“Then you can come with me in your car.” I really wanted him with me wherever I went, and he wanted me wherever he went, which wasn’t always possible, but we discovered we also both craved for our alone time where he made art and I worked wood to my will. “Come on, you know you’ll be bored here without me.”

And almost as if a sign from above. The power went out.

My phone began buzzing and an alarm tune played from it. The ringtone I had set for my brother.

“I guess that’s the universe telling me to do as I’m told,” he said, pushing out his lower lip into a pouty smile.

I answered the call, and it was as predicted, questions about the power outage and the news of an incoming summer storm. My brother was always exaggerating, but as soon as I hung up the phone, a thunder rolled in overhead, as if someone was banging around on the roof tiles.

“I definitely don’t want to stay here alone then,” he said, already gathering teddies from the folded picnic blanket. Most of them had gotten out safely with only a minor sprinkle from the rain clouds.

“You wanna grab a couple extra bits?” I asked. “This might go all night. So, think about staying over at the B&B where we at least have a log fire if it gets too cold.”

He nodded. “Good idea. You’re always full of good ideas.”

I pulled him into an embrace as he tried to walk by me. My hand grabbing and squeezing his ass. “You would be too if I was filling you up.”

“You said you didn’t like cream pies,” he giggled. “And I like to watch it come out of you, as long as you don’t get it on anymore of my onesies. You’re going to make them stained.”

“When I said I don’t like cream pies, I meant the food, I have nothing against filling up my boy’s belly like that.”

Malcolm wiggled his tiny tush in my hands as I squeezed to keep him still. “It’s Daddy Bear’s choice.”

“You better make sure to keep that warm for me then,” I told him. “Because I’m going to make dessert of that ass. You know, considering our picnic ended before we get to that part.”

We could’ve easily rushed around upstairs, fallen onto the bed, which I still wasn’t sure was sturdy enough for the strength of my hip thrusts, but that thought was washed away when my brother called again, and Malcolm reminded me that we would need to repaint the house since it probably hadn’t dried before the rain came down.

Most of the town had emergency generators for situations just like this, and those who didn’t, knew someone who did. Malcolm was still new and even if he had one, it was probably far too old. And we hadn’t yet discovered half of what the house had to offer.

We arrived at the B&B with a large duffle bag of clothes and toys, Malcolm had been unable to decide what he wanted to wear to bed later, or to play with in the meantime. But he didn’t manage to get any playtime in while he was helping me in the kitchen. That was his choice since we had additional guests coming in since the power cut had forced them out of the home, and we were able to make a large batch of food to feed them all.

“I don’t think I could ever work in a full kitchen,” he said, chopping carrots into slices.

“Well, luckily you’re a talented artist, the only thing you’ve got to do is create,” I told him. “And that’s kinda like cooking, you just have to be a lot more safer because of the knives.” I watched under the dull orange energy saving bulb as he scared me with the way he was holding the knife. I should’ve have him wear thimbles or a suit of chainmail to keep his hands safe. That was probably overkill though.

“You think people knew there was going to be a storm?” he asked.

“No,” Ezekiel butted in through the hatch into the kitchen. “It was a flash storm, conspiracy theorists say the government made it to test small town responses to these types of events.”

“Don’t be spreading that,” I said, seeing Malcolm’s wide eye expression in the weak lighting. “Nobody wants to think the sky is falling, because it’s not.”

“It could be true,” he continued. “Sal was talking about it in the dining room as well.”

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