Pup Tent

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#13 of The World of Dare

Oversized toddler Dalia never realized she'd be "erecting a tent" for her eleven-year-old baby-sitter, but can Jared resist temptation?

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Not every eleven-year-old guy had a movie star for a friend.

Okay, that was a bit of a stretch, but Daryl was going to be. Everyone knew it. With his parents routinely getting roles and his unique blue fur with darker spots, the Great Dane was destined for fame - I would be there beside him. He needed me - I could be his eyes and ears. And more importantly, his hands.

Because Daryl was a feral Great Dane, like his entire family. In third grade, when I'd found out just who his parents were, I'd been star-struck. His mom was in the movies, although usually movies for ferals. Sorry, four-leggers. Feral was considered a slur. While two and four legs rarely mixed at our schools, I'd sought Daryl out. I helped him carry his books, I got him lunch, I scratched his back - whatever it took to get in his good graces, and now I could count myself as his friend.

Daryl walked quickly down the hall and I had to bustle to keep up. I could tell he was trying to get distance from his handler, Nathan. The college student was paid by his family to help Daryl in school, but I had always bristled since he showed up. I was already doing all that. It's not my fault I couldn't help Daryl during class.

"Jared," he beamed confidently at me. "I totally just fucked a girl in the bathroom. For real."

I dropped my jaw. We were eleven, and he was already getting some? I knew hitching my ride to Daryl was going to pay off. If I only got the tail end of his groupies, that'd still be a ton of tail. "Holy shit, Daryl. Who??"

He shrugged as if it was nothing. "Can't say. I didn't tie or anything, but we did everything else." He was practically prancing, and I could imagine why. I'd never even kissed a girl.

"Come on, you gotta say."

He shook his head, grinning up at me.

At lunch, I pulled Ethan aside. He was my best friend from even before Daryl, and though he hung out with the Great Dane now, too, he didn't seem to get why. The two-legged Bluetick Coonhound wanted to play video games, and that wasn't Daryl's forte. Maybe now he'd finally understand.

"He fucked a girl. At school," I explained.

Daryl was eating on the feral side of the lunchroom, so we had time to debate what had happened. Ethan said "Do you think she followed him in? Or did he follow her in? It had to be Missy - that slut is always looking over at him."

Missy was a Dalmatian like me, only she was a feral. I said, "He didn't say whether she was a four-legger or not. What he got up in, like Kiley? Got, do you think he'd, um...share?"

Ethan blinked. "Is that a thing??" The poor kid had never watched Entourage, apparently. This was the very first time he realized that being friends with a famous actor might have benefits outside of some pretty balling birthday parties.

"Kiley's got a lot of friends," I explained with a knowing glance. "And maybe Missy does too?"

The Coonhound blinked. "Gross - you'd do it to a four-legger?"

I shrugged. "A spade's a spade, dude," using a saying that had a very different meaning in this context.

Ethan rolled his eyes, grabbing his phone from his bag and tapping away. "I gotta tell Kev and the guys."

By the end of the day, the entire school was talking about it, with Daryl walking proudly and winking at everyone as he played dumb. Missy was everyone's guess, and she couldn't walk three steps without everyone looking at her and wondering if she were carrying a Great Dane-sized creampie under her tail. She looked miserable and was blushing constantly, which was basically proof.

That night, I thought about Missy. It was the first time I'd really thought about ferals myself, but she was a Dalmatian, and pretty enough. I just wish she had boobs! Still, picturing her whimpering underneath the huge Dane was getting me going unlike anything I'd jacked off to before. The other fantasies were just fantasies - this really happened. Would Daryl let me have sloppy seconds? Would I bang her doggy-style, or put her on her back?

For the first time in my life, I managed to jack off twice in one night.

I definitely was starting to get annoyed that Daryl wouldn't tell me more about what happened. I really wanted to fill in the gaps in my fantasy, but the damned dog was really tight-lipped about it. I even accused him of lying about it, but he just gave me a knowing, patronizing look. If he was lying, he was a damn good actor.

Missy, at least, had the common sense to deny it, but everyone knew it was her. Honestly, knowing she was a slut had done wonders for her profile at the school. Suddenly lots of boys were interested in her, including some two-leggers. Maybe that was why she'd fucked Daryl in the first place!

I was still grumbling, idly tossing a tackleball to Daryl. He was a natural in size for the feral-focused sport. If he weren't already destined to be a big time actor, it wouldn't surprise me if he could become a million-dollar tackleballer. And his backyard had plenty of room to run around, as long as I didn't hit any of the finely trimmed topiary.

Nathan wasn't the only handservant employed at their eight-bedroom townhouse. They had a chef, and gardeners, and each parent had their own Nathan. Even Dalia, their youngest, had a Poodle caretaker named Gwen. But I was always on standby to be helpful, grabbing things, carrying things, cleaning things. I knew that I always had to be useful if I wanted to keep my position in the family.

Daryl never talked about his baby sister. Understandable, since they were like...8 years apart. After having Daryl, his mom had been too busy in the movies for another pup, but when nature called...I was only eight myself when Mrs. Fields got pregnant with Dalia, but even that young I couldn't help but appreciate the pure blue bombshell, staying at home to avoid the paparazzi. But I got to watch her belly swell and her - ahem - teats swell out. If only I'd known then what I know now, I might have paid closer attention...snapped a few pictures for my phone...

Dalia, though was still just a baby. Sure, like all ferals, she grew up fast, and was almost as tall as her mother. She was blue like her mom, except for her white face and chest like her dad. Daryl looked pretty similar, except he had darker grey splotches over his blue fur that looked pretty good. Still, the girl was a three-year-old and there wasn't much to Dalia except a noisy mouth to feed.

Gwen was out sick, and that meant someone else was pulling double duty, and today that meant Nathan. Daryl's manservant was running back and forth, making sure to get Daryl a soda, prepare his homework and make sure that Dalia was taken care of. He had to watch carefully for whenever the oversized toddler needed to go to the bathroom - she still wore a diaper, but it was only in case of emergencies. And get her things she wanted, but not too much or too often. Because Dalia wanted peanut butter candies, and she wanted them all the time.

I could tell he was feeling overwhelmed, while I casually tossed the tackleball back and forth with Daryl.

Finally, Nathan was panting and said, "Apologies, sir." I liked it when the twenty-two year old Blue Heeler called me sir. "But Dalia needs a dose of antibiotics for her sinus infection," he said, glancing down at his expanded list of responsibilities while Gwen was out. "And Daryl would like me to make him a quesadilla. Could you please handle her pill?"

I could tell he was desperate, and normally I would say no. I wanted to appear helpful to the Great Danes, not to Nathan. But when Daryl said, "Nah, Jared, stay here and throw to me," I got impulsive. I didn't want to throw to the guy who wouldn't even admit he fucked Missy, much less any of the deets. So I turned to Nathan, put down the ball, and said, "Sure, I'll do it."

I'd done plenty for Dalia before, usually at the request of Mr. or Mrs. Fields. They loved me. I was like a free pair of hands. They never said no when Daryl asked me to come over. And part of why was that I was always so helpful, never expecting anything in return. Of course, I knew that getting in good with them now would pay off in spades (literally) down the line.

"Dalia?" I asked, cruising her normal haunts. "Time for your medicine..." I held the pills in one hand, and the jar of peanut butter in the other. Gwen had written that the three-year-old was supposed to swallow the pills whole and that peanut butter worked because she gulped instead of chewing. "Where are you?"

"Ja-wed! Ja-wed!" she barked excitedly when she saw me. She'd been watching Doberah the Explorer, and hadn't heard me calling. She jumped and I had to back away quickly or get two vicious paws to the face.

"You're really a big girl now, Dalia," I laughed. She really was like a smaller version of her mom now, an 80 pound three-year-old. Give her a year and she'd be full grown - 120 or more pounds of toddler fury.

Dalia said "Play!?"

I shook my head. "It's time for your medicine."

Her droopy face curled up in disgust. "Yucky! No," she said, simply.

I reached down to turn off the television. "No TV until you take your pill."

"Not uh!"

"Come on, don't you want to feel better?" I explained, scratching the back of my head. This was harder than I remembered. The little girl was starting to get a bit headstrong.

She was clearly processing a major thought. Finally, she perked up her floppy ears, and said, "Baf time? Gif me a baf."

"A bath?" I asked. Looking down at Gwen's list, I saw that bath time was on it. "But I have to give you your pill."

She nodded, but said, "Baf. Then yucky piw."

Kids were supposed to hate baths, but Dalia loved them. I got it now - she was making a deal. Sighing, I decided that if peanut butter wasn't going to convince her, I'd better take her up on her offer. "Bath first, then pill," I agreed.

She danced in a circle and then bolted down the hall for the downstairs master bath, and there was no way I could keep up with her. When I finally got there, I closed the door to a happily wagging three-year-old trying in vain to turn the faucet on. "Hold your horses," I said, reached down to plug the drain first. I turned the water on pretty hot at first, knowing it would be cold at first. This wasn't the first time I'd given this pup a bath.

"Remember, no grumbling when it's time for your pill," I explained.

Dalia nodded, her tail wagging back and forth so hard that she was thwapping the two-legger toilet. It sounded like it hurt, but she didn't seem to notice or care. "Dipo off," she said firmly, shoving her rump in my face. The white cloth was the only thing the oversized baby was wearing. Reaching around her waist, I undid the straps and slid the diaper down her hind legs one at a time. It was clean, so I figured I'd just reuse it after the bath.

She stepped out onto the tile floor, completely naked, a sight I'd seen a few dozen times. But this time something was different. Maybe it was all the times I'd imagined lowering Missy the Dalmatian onto my cock, or maybe Dalia had grown up enough to look mostly like an adult, but when I looked at her, my throat got a little dry. She was only three, but the Great Dane was as big as the ferals in my grade.

Then I saw her rump, still wagging in my face. I held my breath, seeing that what had once been an immature, mostly buried spade among her blueish grey fur, was sticking out a fair bit more, showing off her little pink triangle. She wasn't in heat - I could smell that much, but she was getting there. Feral girls matured almost as fast as their animal counterparts. While a dog might become mature in just six months or a year, a feral like Dalia tended to start her first heat...well, around the age of three!

Without even realizing it, the little pup I'd raised for the last three years had turned into a little woman. Not that she had any idea of that, wagging her tail there as innocently as ever. Shit, I was already tenting my jeans. What kind of sicko was I, anyway? I shook my head off, and helped Dalia into the tub, but she looked up at me. "Ged in?"

I shook my head. "I can wash you from here," I said, grabbing the shampoo and a bowl to scoop up the rapidly filling water to pour it over her pristine blue-grey fur.

She shook her head. "Ged in!"

This time it wasn't a question. Glancing around, I shrugged and kicked off my shoes, stepping over the tub in my bare feet. Only Dalia broke out in laughter.

"What?" I asked, confused, my toe hovering above the water level.

"Baf wid cloze. Why, Ja-wed?" she chuckled, backing up to give me more space.

I guess I couldn't blame her for being confused. Gwen probably bathed naked with her too, and so had I. But that was before I was eleven and she... grew up so much. And I was sporting a little chub that was refusing to go away. I said, "It's fine."

She shook her head. "No cloze."

I rolled my eyes. She was getting SO stubborn. She wasn't going to notice my little boner, so I figured why not, just to get this over with. Grumbling, I slid off my shirt and jeans, and slid down my underwear because otherwise she was going to make another big deal out of it. Shivering, naked, I stepped into the bathtub with Dalia.

"Toys!" she barked, nosing the last, plastic bin that contained all her mermaids and ponies and shit. Sure enough, she didn't look twice at the little bit of red poking out from my white, spotted sheath. I grabbed the top six toys and plopped them in the tub for her. This was why she loved bathtime, and she went straight to playing little games, telling stories with the floating characters. While I went for the shampoo.

I'd done it dozens of times, matting down her short, blue fur in water before getting a nice lather in the bowl. This time, as I worked the soap suds into her fur, it felt very different. She wasn't Daryl's baby sister, at least not in appearance anymore. She was practically full grown, larger than Missy, and standing naked in front of me! I'd been beating off to Missy every night. Shivering, I took the loofa I was using and washed slowly up Dalia's hind legs, while she spoke little nonsense words about what the sea witch was saying to the rubber ducky.

My hand shook slightly as I cleaned higher, my eyes fighting me. I knew I wasn't supposed to be thinking like this, but who was gonna catch me? Dalia had no idea I was lifting her tail, not just to wash her, but to get my first, up close glimpse of a real spade. I mean, I'd seen hers before, but never like this. The soft, pink mound was taut against her hindquarters, but I could see every fold, creasing inward, tight together. She was pretty big, but I wasn't completely sure she was big enough for me. Just how flexible was she?

Damn, what was I thinking!? I was just a curious boy, but she was three. It didn't take a genius to know that a sixth grader was too old for a girl who wasn't even in kindergarten! I took a deep breath, and told myself I was just investigating her while I had the chance. Slowly, I washed her rump, watching the way her little pussy warped as I pushed up and down. When I pulled down particularly hard, I saw her lips suddenly part, and the smallest opening appear.

Oh God... My red tip was growing soundly now. I'd gotten a look inside Dalia, but just a glimpse. What was really going on in there? The soap bowl was discarded on the side of the tub as I panted softly, listening to Dalia's game. She was enthralled with the little figurines, and not paying any attention to me. Trembling, I reached down and grabbed a floaty, soft rubbery spaceship. It was a shuttle, but only about an inch in diameter at the cockpit.

Splashing the water a little as I knelt behind the Great Dane, I slowly raised the little toy to Dalia's soapy little hole.

If I just... I thought, pressing the nose of the craft against the very middle of her spade. To my astonishment, the wet, rubber object slipped forward easily, greased by the soap suds. Before I knew what was happening, I'd poked the shuttle two inches inside of her, watching her immature spade spread so easily around it. I bit my lip, realizing that I was only about a half-inch wider than the toy, at least around the middle of my shaft. Oh God...

"Ja-wed?"

Shit, she's looking at me. She couldn't see what I was doing with the toy, but she could feel it for sure, cocking her white-and-blue muzzle and looking over her shoulder at me. "Uh..." I said, mind racing. What if she asks her parents about this!?

Before I realized what was happening, the three-year-old curled around. I had no idea she was this flexible, but she managed a full circle, and suddenly she was face to face with my hand, still holding the shuttle a few inches inside her. "Whud you doin?" she asked, lifting her tail and looking at her private parts.

"Playing rocketship," I stammered quickly. "Like Dobera - they're, um, exploring."

Her large Dane head showed a fair bit of confusion, but she understood the gist at least, giggling. "Weiwd," she replied, looking up at me.

I gave her a sheepish grin and started to pull the spaceship out of her. "Sorry - I didn't think it would feel so weird."

But the three-year-old shook her head adamantly, her lips flapping back and forth. "Feows okay. Don' wowwy, Ja-wed."

"Yeah?" I asked, slowly, heart thudding in my chest. Instead of removing the soft toy, I said, "They want to keep exploring."

"Okay."

Stupid, stupid, stupid, I thought, but at the same time I did exactly what I knew I shouldn't. With Dalia curled up and watching, I held my breath and pushed forward, driving the white-and-black space shuttle deeper. She just let it happen, trusting me, watching with interest.

"Thad tigows!" she laughed, squirming a little as the ship entered her 'docking bay'.

She loved being tickled, but did she like this? "Do you...like the way it feels?"

"Yeah," she agreed enthusiastically, wagging her thick, firm tail so fast I had to dodge or I might get a concussion.

I grabbed the dangerous fifth limb and pinned it to the side, kneeling behind the young Great Dane and pushing the toy even deeper, staring at the way her immature pink vulva opened up. I was shaking now, my tongue dangling out of my mouth, concentrating.

"Whad's thad?"

"Huh?"

"Thad," she repeated, and then before I could get out of my daze, the three-year-old impulsive reached out to point at what she meant. Her paw pad gripped my cock, and I realized I wasn't peeking out - I was practically fully erect! I lost my grip on the shuttle and almost fell on my butt in the tub.

"H-hey!" I yipped, the toy launching out of her as soon as my hands let go. Even in my shocked state, I still noticed her pussy closing slowly in front of me, gaping wide for a second or two. She may be tight down there, but she had a lot of room to stretch, and I realized that if I wanted to, I could - if I wanted to, I could... I closed my eyes, panting, and looked back at the confused puppy. She looked worried, so I quickly said, "That's...uh... my rocket," hoping that would put an end to her questions.

Of course it wasn't. She cocked her head and stared at my dick, glistening and veiny, and said, "Whewa was id?"

Where was it? I gulped. "It was hiding. L-ike...the toy."

She tried to nuzzle it, curiously, but I pushed her large head away. She looked up at me and said, "Yoaw wed wocked!" delighted to have named the curiously shaped toy that seemed attached to me.

Red rocket...if she says that around the staff, or Gwen, or God forbid Daryl, there are going to be some uncomfortable questions. I was in deep shit now. Sure, she could barely string three words together, but it wouldn't take much for people to start asking questions about Jared's last bathtime.

"It's a secret," I said. "That's why it was hiding. They don't want anyone to know, you know?"

"Okay," she said simply. Was that good enough? Could I really trust the oversized puppy?

"Okay, bath time's over!" I yipped, climbing out of the tub. I certainly hadn't washed every part of her, but I didn't know if I could survive any more awkwardness around Dalia.

"Awwww," she whined, but she did as she was told, letting me dry her off with two full towels. By the time I was done, my 'red rocket' was hiding again, thank God.

"Pill time," I explained, not bothering to put my undies back on. It was a bit late for modesty!

"No, yucky!" she growled, darting back away from me.

"You promised, Dalia."

Maybe she was getting more mature than I thought, because though she clearly didn't want to (her tail tucked between her legs), she still crawled forward on her belly, and waited. She knew the pill was good for her, even if it tasted bad, and she trusted the adults in her life to have her best interests at heart.

"At least you get peanut butter!" I said, cheerfully, using the knife to coat the antibiotics from all sides. "Remember, you are supposed to just swallow it, okay? No teeth." I mimed swallowing, in case she'd forgotten the word. With a sticky glob in my paw, I reached out to Dalia.

She didn't want to look at it, so she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, ready to take her medicine. But as soon as the peanut butter touched her long, wide tongue, she lapped and slurped and gulped the whole thing. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" I asked, glancing around for a tissue or something to wipe my sticky paws with.

I needn't have bothered, because the eager pup went straight for my left paw, engulfing the peanut butter straight off my fingers. "Hey!" I said, startled, trying to shove the impolite Dane away. But she pushed back, and both my paws collided with my crotch. "Dalia!" I chided, as the peanut butter started to spread.

Now I really needed some tissue, and I glanced around. The ferals used a sort of liquid thing instead of toilet paper, but next to the pot for two-leggers, I saw some. I took a step forward.

And then I froze.

I didn't take more than one step before my entire body seized up, and I stared down with both eyes stretched until they hurt, my ears perked up and jaw gaping.

Dalia had taken one good look at the peanut butter on my crotch and had gone straight for it. I was staring down at the nearly-full-sized girl slathering her tongue all over my sheath, searching for the tasty paste. I still wonder if maybe I actually died right there, just from shock.

Licking her lips, Dalia looked up at me. "Whud?" she asked innocently.

Like a man possessed, I reached blindly for the peanut butter and slipped my paw straight into it, and without responding to the four-legged Great Dane, I clumsily spread the peanut butter over my sheath again.

"Siwwy!" she said, not understanding the game, but definitely wanting that peanut butter. She went right back to licking me, as I stood there, naked, in front of her, my eleven-year-old cock quickly appearing from its 'hiding spot'.

Even better, her tongue went for my fingers, seeking the peanut butter in the cracks, extending her search. And just by moving my paw I could direct the clueless toddler wherever I wanted, holding my paw just above my sheath so that her tongue ran across my tip. I bit my lip to keep from groaning, her big, Dane tongue slurping away.

Shivering, I went back for a third pawful, and this time I smeared it right along my bright, red shaft. It took a lot of willpower to trust that big, sharp muzzle, but she knew not to use her teeth! Steadying myself on her shoulders, I presented her my coated dick, holding my breath.

Of course it worked! She didn't know any better, quickly lapping directly along my shaft, slurping up the bottom, curling her agile tongue around to find the peanut button on the top, tonguing me directly on my dripping tip. "Good girl, Dalia..." I panted.

Gently, I humped my hips forward and backward, slipping all the way inside her muzzle. She didn't seem to mind, finding it even easier to lap me up with my dick inside her mouth. "Wait!" I yelped, as she noticed some peanut butter on my balls.

She looked up at me, surprised that I jerked away from her when she guzzled my soft-furred scrotum. "Penud Bedda," she said, her mouth already unable to form the words without the sticky substance coating her tongue. She was out.

Blushing down at her, I said, "You know I'm not supposed to give you too many treats."

She looked disappointed.

I took a deep breath, contemplating whether I was really going to do this. Shivering, stiff and firm in the cool, bathroom air, I said, "But if you don't tell, I won't."

She shook her head quickly that she wouldn't.

Gulping, I said, "I'll give you more but first we have to play 'hide the rocket ship'." I pointed down to my boner, and she understood all too well. Grabbing Dalia by the floppy ears (she hadn't gotten them cropped like her brother), I watched in disbelief as Dalia wrapped her entire muzzle around my full cock, knot and all. She was a big girl, and could easily fit all of me straight down to the hilt, hiding my 'red rocket' completely.

"That's it..." I growled playfully. I'd known Dalia from when she still couldn't even open her eyes, but here I was gently humping her muzzle like we were going steady. And she only thought we were playing a strange new game.

Panting, I fell back against the sink, my spotted tail thumping loudly against the drawers. "No teeth," I reminded her, but she already knew that rule. Her huge, red tongue cradled me, lapping repeatedly against my throbbing dick until I couldn't even hold onto her ears anymore, gripping the edge of the counter beside me. "You're...so good at this..." I groaned.

She stepped forward, wagging her tail, so tall she didn't have to lift her head to deep-throat me. I could feel the heat growing inside me, building toward what I thought would be the best orgasm in my life. But just as I was going to reach my limit, she tilted her head down and started licking my balls and the soft fur just below that.

I muffled my yip and grabbed the counter until my knuckles were white, trying desperately not to overreact to this new sensation. Her tongue didn't feel as good as it had against my trembling, quivering dick, but the gently slurps of and near my balls was pretty dang good in its own right, and helped back me down from the edge. I spread my legs and she explored deeper, and I froze, wondering if she would really...

She did. Before I knew it, she was tilting her head and licking near my butt cheeks, her wet tongue brushing against my pucker. I doubted anyone at school had felt anything like that! I knew a few guys who'd gotten blowjobs, but this was something completely different. I groaned, trying to spread my legs even wider, but that didn't really help. Her licks grew more and more forceful, heading back to my sensitive balls, until finally I gritted my teeth and said, "D-do you want more peanut butter now?"

She licked her lips. "You tace bedda," she said, declining.

Holy shit. She liked licking me? I'd already turned to grab more peanut butter, but she didn't need it. I took a deep breath, overwhelmed, which only gave Dalia time to stick her nose up under my tail. Eyes wide, I leaned over the counter, spread my legs, and lifted my tail out of the way. This wasn't really happening, was it?

This angle suited Dalia much better. She quickly buried her snout under my tail, her wide muzzle parting so that she could curl her tongue up against my musky tailhole. Like that, I was getting full-on rimmed by the enormous toddler. "Oh God..." I whined, her soft, wet tongue slickening me up. Why did it feel so good?

"Dalia!" I then yelped, because she didn't know any better than to push her powerful tongue right inside my sphincter, spreading me apart. I was shaking, clenching my eyes shut and panting as the huge Dane tongue plunged deeper, eagerly probing my freshly bathed ass. Every second I was sure she'd stop and point out how gross it was, but she had no idea. My sweaty anus seemed like a tasty treat to Dalia, and I wasn't going anywhere.

In fact, it was only as her forceful tongue started to hurt that I changed my mind. Dozens after dozens of slurps had caused some repetitive friction down there, but I didn't want it to stop. I bit my lip and fought through the dull pain, letting her lick far after I should have said no. Slowly, I slid a paw to my cock and slid it up and down the drool-soaked shaft. Her saliva was the perfect lubricant, and I pumped my hips while she ate me out.

In seconds, I was whining and splattering the drawers below the sink, my full Dalmatian dick quivering in the air as translucent white cum painted the brown wood. Dalia didn't know what I was doing, and didn't care, licking just as hard, until I finally came down from my orgasmic high and turned away from the Great Dane. My butt ached so bad I knew I would be feeling it the next day, but she'd put me in a stupor like never before. I hopped onto the counter, panting, staring down at the curious baby standing in front of me.

"W-wow," I groaned. "That was -"

But she was already walking forward. I inched back, not ready for that tongue, but instead she was sniffing my cum from the side of the sink. She lapped it up, searching for every load before looking up at me and licking her lips.

"Ja-wed happy?" she asked.

"Very," I smiled. Flattening my ears I said, "But you can't tell anyone about this game. Remember? It's like...hide and seek."

She nodded. "Fow wockets."

"Yeah, for rockets," I agreed. "And they don't want to be found, okay?"

She agreed of course, and I crossed off "bath" and "pill" from the list. I couldn't add what we'd just done, but mentally I was already wondering if I could make this a weekly - or maybe daily - occurrence. Maybe I didn't have to wait until Daryl got famous to get something in return for all my hard work and friendship!

It wouldn't be quite so simple, of course. Despite Dalia's pledge, it wasn't an hour before she told Daryl that we'd played "red rocket". I gave her a look and she zipped her lips, but not before Daryl looked confused. I explained that she was talking about one of her bath toys, and I played the intrepid crew of the space shuttle. I hoped he didn't realize the toy was far from red...

And that was why the next day I arrived with a gift for Dalia in my bookbag. A soft, squishy bath toy I'd picked up at Walrusmart that was just too perfect to provide the cover I needed against a too-talkative toddler. It was a six-inch long, tapered little rocket ship, about 1.5 inches in diameter.

And it was bright red.