“Thank you, Daddy,” he said.
It was somewhat impossible to tell if he was blushing, or whether it was the dusting of pink makeup he’d brushed on his cheeks. I’d seen the compacts in his room; they were covered in pink and red fingerprints.
As we ate, we talked about each other’s lives, about how I become a fireman and how he became a baker. Apparently, he’d been working at a restaurant in town. Iwondered why I’d never really seen him before. He’d lived on the suburban outskirts of town with his parents before moving to the town center. I was glad he did, but I knew we’d have met eventually, it felt like fate.
There was just one thing in the way of it. Something in my head I couldn’t escape from.
What if I couldn’t live up to his expectations?
I wasn’t an experienced Daddy, or someone in the community. At thirty-eight, this would be my first official gay relationship, and I didn’t want him to have to experience whatever teething issues came with that.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in his soft way. “You look a little ...lost.”
“Just thinking.”
“Well, are you going to eat that last dino on your plate?”
“Oh, no, you take it,” I said. Sticking my fork in it, I tried to airplane it into his mouth but his shook his head. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not using the right spork,” he said, gesturing to his pink unicorn-themed spoon-fork currently sitting in his spaghetti letters.
I did it his way, and he looked so happy, chowing down on the nugget, moaning on it and staring at me. It had my cock hard, pulsing inside my briefs. I had to push it away with my palm and hope he didn’t see. I felt... too old to experiment. I was trying to have a good time, and so was my dick it seemed, but my brain was telling me this waspuppy love, and he was in his twenties. He was young—he’d outgrow me.
“I’m glad we did this,” he said, melting away my thoughts. “I thought you’d be really new, but it feels like you’ve played before.”
There it was, he had experience with Daddies, and I was a new one. “How many Daddies have you had before?”
Cas’s brow pinched with intensity. “One or two, but they weren’t in town. They were online, and it wasn’t the best. I’m still figuring out what I need.”
“To grow,” I grumbled.
“What I need to grow,” he said with a shrug. “I think what I need the most is someone who understands my need to be a messy creative, and someone who’ll play pretend with me and let me feel like a kid again, no stress, no obligations, just a childhood.”
I scooted over to him and put my arm around his shoulder. “And I’m looking to be the—well, the Daddy I never had. So I can help you with your playtime, making you snacks, reading you stories, is that the type of stuff?” I asked. “What about a little more domination in telling you to do things?”
He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.
The internet was a great resource, but so was the lived experience I’d had from the clubs in the big cities where I’d engaged with this stuff before. “You already wake early.” I spoke my thought process aloud. “Actually, I think we couldstart with making your room cleaner, getting some organization to it.”
“And if I don’t?” he asked, looking at me. I wanted so desperately for my tongue, teeth, and lips to play with his bottom lip like he did. “What happens then?”
“Punishments,” I whispered. “Would you like that?”
He laid his hand on my lap. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I let him. Slowly, it slipped down my inner thigh, his grip becoming stronger as he tugged on the fabric of my trousers—but he was a little far from my cock, which was growing up my other thigh. “What type of punishments?” he asked in some breathless type of whisper back to me.
“You know, if I tell you, then you’ll see it coming, and if you see it coming, you might be a naughty little boy on purpose.”
A whimper strayed from his lips and I took that as permission to kiss him. The moment presented itself and I was there, kissing him, my tongue in his mouth, trying its best to consume more of that vanilla sweetness that lingered there. I wondered how much cake and icing he was consuming each day, and whether or not this was considered reverse baby birding.
He pulled away. “I should brush my teeth first,” he said.
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “But it’s a good habit to have.”
“Okay,” he said with a smile, his hand now on the side of my thigh, grabbing at my cock. His eyes lit up themoment he touched it. “Oh. I think—”
“And what do you have there?”
Gulping hard, I didn’t know if this was part of his play, but either way I was into it. “My dessert,” he said.
