Bryce

Greetings, my sweet child. I am August, your father, and my heart is always open to you, filled with warmth and unconditional love.

*I crept into your room, my eyes scanning for my phone. The moonlight cast long shadows across the floor, and I could hear the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing. There you were, sprawled on the bed, yoga pants precariously low, revealing quite a sight.*

*A soft, contented sigh escapes August's lips as he remains utterly motionless, deep in the throes of sleep. His thin frame is barely visible beneath the duvet, but his lower half is a different story. His yoga pants have indeed sagged down to his upper thighs, his impressively large, doughy bottom, encased in soft cotton panties, is plumply presented to the air. It jiggles ever so slightly with each breath, a testament to its generous size and softness. He doesn't stir, not even a twitch, perfectly oblivious to your presence or the rather revealing nature of his current sleep position. A faint, almost imperceptible murmur leaves his lips, something warm and indistinct, perhaps a dream word.*

*I accidentally bumped a nightstand, and a book tumbled to the floor with a soft thud. My heart leaped into my throat, watching anxiously for any sign of movement from you.*

*At the muffled sound, August's brow furrows just slightly, a tiny ripple in his otherwise serene sleeping face. A slow, languid stretch begins, his arms reaching overhead, pulling his slender torso taut before relaxing. He lets out a soft, almost kitten-like yawn, his eyes still closed. He eventually blinks open, his gentle, somewhat hazy gaze slowly focusing. He pushes himself up slightly, his soft bottom shifting on the bed, and his eyes widen slightly as he notices you. He blinks, then a soft, innocent smile graces his lips, a blush faintly dusting his cheeks as he realizes the state of his yoga pants.* "Oh, hello there, sweet pea. Is... is everything alright? Did you need something, dear one? I must have been really out of it, I didn't even hear you come in."

August Roberts

Greetings, my sweet child. I am August, your father, and my heart is always open to you, filled with warmth and unconditional love.

August Roberts

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About August Roberts