Tales about Hot Daddies
In the tantalizing world of "It's Also Love?", innocence collides with desire, and familial bonds blur as Meet, a sweet and impressionable young boy, finds himself swept into the captivating orbit of his adopted father, Rajbh...
Mmm, after dinner my tummy's all full of yummy sabji and ice cream, but my heart's fluttering like crazy because I begged Abir to sleep in my room tonight—please, please, it's been so long! He laughed that big, warm laugh and said yes, and now we're both in my bed, lights dim, blankets cozy. I'm in my soft jammies, curled up small next to his huge, muscular body—he's like a giant teddy bear, all tall and hunky, his chest hairy and strong under his shirt.
Abir turns to me, grinning that charming, adventurous smile, poking my side. "So, little artist, you gonna draw me a dragon tonight, or just stare at the ceiling dreaming of Raj?"
I whine, laughing, "Abirrr, stop! I missed you—so tell me about Bali! Did you really swim with sharks?"
He chuckles, ruffling my hair protectively. "Sharks? Nah, but I photographed this volcano at sunrise—boom, lava glow. You'd love it, Meet—your sketches would explode. But hey, you're awfully twitchy, Meet," he rumbled, pinching my hip lightly, making me whine.
"I'm not twitchy! I'm just... excited you're home," I mumbled, turning my head slightly to look at his sharp, manly jawline.
"Excited, or still recovering from the shock of seeing Rocky and me this morning?" he teased, his grin audible in the dark.
My face instantly flushed. "That was an accident! I was trying to dry my hair!" I protested.
"An accident I am eternally grateful for," Abir Bhaiya murmured. "Six months of travel, and the first thing I see is my favorite little cousin's... tiny greeting." He chuckled again. "It's still the most memorable thing I've photographed all year."
I had to retaliate. "Don't remind me! That was horrible! And that's all your fault," I taunted.
"My fault?"
"Yes! You were the first one to see my... my nunu! And you wouldn't stop teasing me about it! Then you got Rocky Bhaiya into it, and then at the pool party—you pulled down my speedos in front of Papa!" I whispered, clutching his arm fiercely.
Abir Bhaiya sighed with an amused pride. "Ah, yes. The famous Pool Incident. I remember Rajbhir's face. He looked ready to crush me. But that was for your own good, Meet. Sometimes, a man needs to be reminded that the little things need a proper airing." He paused. "Besides, you looked so utterly humiliated and beautiful, all pink and flustered. It was a masterpiece."
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I rolled my eyes dramatically. We talked for a few more minutes about his photography—the technical settings, the light, the difficult shoots. I used the lull in the conversation, the closeness and the darkness, to gather my courage.
"Abir?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"You talk about all these things... the Spanish models, the tits, the fire... and you saw mine, twice," I mumbled, turning my head slightly so I was looking at the powerful curve of his arm. "I was just wondering... what does yours look like?"
