Learning to Ride

“You had us worked up,” Daddy Dalton says, and I turn to him.

“Worked up how? I made breakfast.”

“It’s all right, sugar britches. You didn’t mean to do it,” Daddy Stetson says. “But the thing is, we’ve been having a hard time concentrating since then.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Daddy Rowdy is quick to say. “But maybe you can help us out so that we can get back to work.” He rubs his hand over the front of his jeans, and I wonder if the thing he’s got in there is making it hard to work.

“You know I’m always happy to help. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” I say, eager to do whatever they need.

“That’s our good girl,” Daddy Dalton says as he moves closer. In fact, all three of them are crowding around me. “It’s time you did a few extra chores so that we can focus on work. We can’t walk around like this all day.” He rubs the front of his jeans too.

I notice that Daddy Dalton has something in his jeans too, and a quick glance at Daddy Stetson confirms all three of my daddies are having trouble.

“I think whatever this is might be the problem.” I reach out and touch the front of Daddy Dalton, and when I rub my hand over the bulge, he groans. “Does it hurt?”