Page 172 of Double Daddies
“Don’t freak out,” Daddy says. “There is nothing for you to panic about.”
“There is!” I raise my voice. “She wants to meet me. She knows I’m a Little. She is excited!”
“Is there something wrong with that?” Papa asks.
“I just...” I take a deep breath. “I’m anxious. I’m always a nervous wreck when it comes to meeting new people.”
It’s something I’ve been trying to work on, but it hasn’t gone well. I get antsy meeting up with people I’ve known for years. This is never going away.
“Everything is going to be okay.” Daddy kisses my shoulder. “You have nothing to be worried about.”
“How about we get you fed, and then we can head over there a little bit early?” Papa suggests.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat,” I mumble.
How do they expect me to eat when I am about to meet someone?
“You’ll eat something small and have a snack later,” Papa says, leaving no room for discussion.
I nod and snuggle back into his chest.
“Come on, little bit.” Daddy kisses my shoulder once again. “Let’s go get ready for the day.”
“I don’t wanna,” I whine. “I wanna snuggle with you. Maybe we can have sex again.,” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“We’ve created a monster,” Papa teases.
“Not a monster,” I mumble.
“Addict.” Daddy replaces the word.
“Addicted to your dicks. Addict. A dick. Dick. Well, in my case, it would be two dicks, but still.” I giggle.
Both of them chuckle before Daddy sits up. “Come on. Let’s go fill your belly.”
“With your cum?” My eyes light up.
Papa full-on belly laughs. “Not with our cum.”
I pout and look up at Papa and Daddy. “No fair,” I mumble.
“Later. If you’re a good girl.” Daddy boops my nose. “Now, if there are any more delays in getting ready, your bottom will be red.”
“And no pouting.” Papa kisses the side of my head.
Nerves upon nerves run through me as we walk to another cabin. The closer we get, the more I want to throw up. My stomach clenches, and I stop walking, Papa and Daddy do as well. They are on either side of me, looking at me with concern.
“Are you okay?” Daddy asks.
I shake my head, placing a hand over my stomach.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I whisper, my eyes focused on the front door now. “I really don’t think I can do this.”
Daddy kneels in front of me, grabbing hold of both of my hands. “Why?”
I don’t respond as I continue to look at the door. Are they watching us right now? Are they watching me have a breakdown?
“Eyes on me,” Daddy commands.
