When we went shopping, I’d picked up a coloring book, colors, and a stuffie. That was all. I figured I’d bring my stuff over and slowly build it up over time. I thought wrong.
Christmas morning, I ran down the stairs and started opening all of the packages. The mound had grown quickly, and Icouldn’t wait any longer. Colorful Christmas paper flew around the room as I ripped into them. I managed to get through three before Vince plodded down the stairs.
“Joey? What are you doing?”
“Uh…opening prezzies.”
Vince shook his head. “Aren’t you supposed to wait for me?”
“You were still sleeping.” I fluttered my eyelashes, trying to look innocent.
“I should make you wait until after breakfast—”
“No…please, Daddy. I need to open these now.”
Vince rolled his eyes as he sat beside me on the floor next to the tree. “You are so dramatic.”
“But you were the only one doing the eye-rolly thing.” I pointed at his face.
“Fine. Here. Open…this one.” He dug around and found a particular present and handed it to me.
I ripped it open to find a plain box. Vince had to grab a knife from the kitchen to cut the tape. I pulled out a racecar. It was a black-and-yellow plastic kit.
“This is a one-twenty scale model of my car.”
“The one you drove to win everything?”
“Yes, and I’d love to put it together with you. If you like.”
I threw myself into his arms. Until he retired, this car was his life. It represented what he had been, and now he was giving it all to me. Okay, maybe I was being overly figurative or symbolic or some shit, but I loved it. And putting it together with him would be fantastic. “I like. Lots.”
I got lots of other prezzies from him, too. All kinds of toys, including bath toys, new binkies and blankies, and stuff for my room. If I wasn’t spoiled before, I was spoiled now.
What I got him didn’t compare to this.
I’d stolen some of his pictures and pulled some off the internet and had a collage made, including a plaque that highlighted his career. He could put it in the game room.
I also got him some cologne and stylish clothes. And some fetish wear for the club. There was going to be a big New Year’s Eve party. They threw it every year. And we had already decided to go. But he needed something better to wear. And hell, that was my forte. My latest blog and supporting social media had evolved into an everything club wear and included a lot of fetish stuff. I had a few sponsors who paid very well. And since I was in the middle of moving in with daddy, my expenses were getting drastically cut, since he wouldn’t let me pay part of the mortgage, food, or anything. He wanted to take care of me. That meant my only living expenses would be my car and insurance.
The other thing I got him were my test results, so we could go bareback. He already had his, but I did mine and wrapped the results and stuffed it in his stocking along with a bottle of lube. But we hadn’t done stockings yet.
We finished opening the last of the boxes under the tree, and everything made me warm and happy. Torn wrapping paper, boxes, and opened prezzies were all over the living room. The tree sparkled and blinked with all the lights and ornaments we’d put up. And it smelled like pine, cinnamon, and cloves. I didn’t think I could be happier.
“How about stockings?” Vince asked, which made me smile my sneaky smile.
“Yes. Get yours too.”
He pulled them down from the mantel above the electric fireplace, which was the first time in my life that I actually had a fireplace. Hanging them up had been a little surreal, but Vince pulling them down was exciting.
I reached in and pulled out an apple, an orange, a couple of candy canes, some chocolate marshmallow santas, peanut buttercups, and Hershey’s Kisses. And a small wrapped box with a bow that was nearly as big as the box.
Vince held his stocking in his lap as he looked at me with big golden-brown eyes. “Open it.”
It could only be jewelry of some kind. Wow. Jewelry was moving forward fast. I tore the box open and pulled out a silver chain with a round charm that hadVinceengraved on it. “Oh.”
“I hope that’s not too forward.”
“No, it’s actually perfect. Thank you. Put it on me.”
