<div class="floatleft">(https://www.theplace2.ru/archive/elizabeth_turner/img/elizabeth-turner-wil(8).jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Mar Sinclair<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Saturday October 10th<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Home<br/><strong>Content/Mood:</strong>Coming home | Anxiously excited<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mar and Erin<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Celeste relaxed visibly when the conversation moved beyond her brief outburst, sinking a little deeper into her chair. Despite her curiosity, and maybe a little sexual excitement over the idea, she didn't<em>really</em>want to get into trouble. Not now, at least, not when it was so real. Later that night or the next day, she'd probably start to wonder again, to fantasize, maybe even tempt fate a little, push her Mommy and Daddy's buttons just to see what they'd do, to see what it would be like to<em>really</em>get into trouble. How much would a spanking hurt? Not a fun one either, meant for play, but a real one, on her bare bottom. Long, hard, painful. She didn't want to find out. And she<em>really</em>wanted to find out.<br/><br/>It was very confusing.<br/><br/>And it was wonderful.<br/><br/>Mar's voice popped Celeste out of her daydream. Smiling, she shook her head. "No, I want to try this. It looks so good!" Plus, it'd be rude to make Mar could something else up all for her. Celeste didn't say that, though. For one thing, it wasn't something any little girl was likely to think about. For another, she really did want to make a good first impression with her new parents. They'd met and talked plenty of times before, of course, but tonight was their first<em>real</em>night together. As a family. It was important that it go well. For Celeste. For all three of them.<br/><br/>As for her tantrum, well--she<em>was</em>their little girl. Little girls threw fits sometimes.<br/><br/>Anyway, what small fear Celeste had that the food might be too spicy was put to rest by her Mommy's own comment. She was glad for that. Spicy foods were among her least favourite; they burned her tongue and made her eyes water. "Do we get dessert every night?" She found herself asking, prompted by Erin's question.<br/><br/>After that, she fell mostly silent, eyes darting back-and-forth between the two older women as they shared their days with one another. None of it meant much to Celeste, but she listened avidly nonetheless. Somehow, she didn't feel left out, either. Not a third wheel intruding in on the life of this longtime couple, on these two women who'd been with each other for . . . how long? A decade, maybe. More. Celeste didn't know. And she didn't feel left out, didn't feel like they were talking over her. Or maybe she did, but not in a bad way. More like a little girl who had to sit quietly while Mommy and Daddy discussed their grown-up things.<br/><br/>The image almost made her giggle. It<em>did</em>give her butterflies, and she had to lay a hand over her tummy to calm them. She was their little girl. Mommy and Daddy's princess. It took her a moment to realize that Erin had said something to her. Blinking, Celeste turned her eyes on the older woman, grinned, but still didn't say anything. Mommy and Daddy were still talking.<br/><br/>"What mechanical troubles?" She finally asked, peering over at Mar, curiosity at last overcoming manners.