He struggled not to cry like a sissy cry-baby, trying to retain whatever shred of dignity he possibly could. Butthere was something else preying on hi... mind. Emma the Nanny almostalways spoon-fed him, or Jane and Nanna did, the rest of the time. BabyDaphne really liked the attention and the sense of loving-care sheassociated with being fed,.Today however, David was having to feed himself with a baby spoon - andhe wasn't faring very well. He realised bits and pieces of food weresmeared all over. She inhales deeply and I can feel her muscles moving with the breath under my fingers. When she exhales, there’s a small, contented sigh weaved into the sound, gently praising me for my actions and nudging me to continue.I tentatively ask if less innocent touches are permitted by running my hands up her sides under the shirt, thumbs softly grazing her breasts. The way she arches her back the slightest bit and moves her hips to more firmly press herself against me is her way of answering yes,. More

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