Page 4 of More, Daddy (Bluebell Bruisers #3)
Watching her dots dance as I wait for her to reply has quickly, in the span of just a few weeks, become the most exciting fucking thing in my life. That fact speaks volumes to how badly I need to scratch the itch, so to speak .
It’s been too fucking long. But I’m in this cruel dichotomy of wanting to ask DaddysGirl about what I believe has brought us together, and not wanting to ask, because I don’t want all this other conversation to come to an end.
I really fucking like her, and I don’t even know her name.
DaddysGirl
Not sure, three should do it.
This isn’t my normal pot. I’m not home right now.
Stayed at a hotel last night.
I reach down the front of my gray sleep pants and adjust myself. I get a little stiff when we start talking, and sometimes, I’m a rock for hours, even during platonic chat. DaddysGirl stirs me up.
Suede0989
Do you sleep well in hotels?
I don’t like the idea of her being uneasy all night, unable to sleep, tossing and turning. I’m relieved at her response. I don’t let myself think about being there with her, holding her, kissing her until she falls into a sleepy dreamland…
DaddysGirl
I was so tired from travel, I was knocked right out
The fact that she took a trip somewhere and stayed in a hotel is the closest we’ve ever gotten to personal details of any kind. It’s harmless—I don’t know where she lives or where she traveled to, and I don’t know the circumstances of her trip.
Still .
Even the faintest bits of knowledge about her make my blood go hot and my spine straighten. It’s both harmless and a step toward more, the subtle statement meant to lure us into one another’s psyche, make our interest spider with each almost detail.
It’s a game, and she’s playing it flawlessly. After nearly two months of chatting, she still only sometimes acknowledges my comments like those, and this is the first time we’ve sent photos of any kind.
Mugs are harmless, but everything starts somewhere.
Suede0989
Gonna be gone long?
DaddysGirl
Nope, be home today. Short trip. One night.
I spent most of my night away talking to you, so aside from the uncomfortable bed, I never really felt like I was away
Her words are a reward, loaded with juicy subtext. Whatever she was doing in her real life, she was on Veiled , talking to me, spending her time with me . She sacrificed her time in a hotel room, for whatever the case, to talk to me.
We both may have signed up for Veiled to purge some of our overflowing desire to be unabashedly kinky, but we’re both chatting daily because we want more.
There is no other reason.
Suede0989 |
I stare at my blinking cursor for too long. What I want to say is “I’m glad I brought you a sense of home while you were away” but it feels like too much. Like a reach she isn’t ready for. Still, when I try to type out something else, nothing feels right.
DaddysGirl
I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable
She writes, filling in the gaps in my brain, and I can’t help but smile, realizing her brain went exactly where mine did.
DaddysGirl
It hasn’t been long enough to tell you that you’re my new home, haha, I know that
I just meant to say that you’ve become a part of my routine
And it would feel weird not talking to you in the evening
That’s all
Suede0989
I knew what you meant
I was going to say “I’m glad I brought you a sense of home while you were away” but thought I’d be overly assuming my role in your life
A beat passes. She’s not a slow reader, so she’s likely thinking about how to respond.
Which means there’s something to consider, or, consideration to be had.
Maybe it’s all just a matter of keeping things amicable and sweet until we get to the thing that brought us here— our shared kink —and maybe it’s genuine.
Still, the beat she takes before responding has my heart working overtime behind my ribs.
Finally, her actionable dots appear.
Then...
DaddysGirl
I didn’t want to go away for work. I usually never do. And the trip was just far enough to make it worth the hotel, but not far enough to make me feel like I’m actually away from home.
Having you on Veiled all night… Well…
Talking to you reminds me of home
So I don’t think you are overly assuming your role in my life
Mister Suede
The edges of my vision blur from how quickly my heart is forcing blood through my body. I lick my lips, and stroke my hand through my messy, bed-ridden hair. The coffee pot beeps, indicating it’s through brewing.
Suede0989
I rushed through work yesterday afternoon, anxious to get home
Anxious to talk with you
Her dots appear, but nerves fill me as I wonder how she’s going to reply, so before she can, I type and send another message quickly.
Suede0989
Coffee’s done. Pouring my first three-cup mug now.
DaddysGirl
Am I the only one you’re talking to on Veiled?
My eyes flash to the empty message queue. Would I have lied to her had I been chatting with others? I hope not, but fortunately, no one else is in my queue. She’s been the only one.
Suede0989
Yes
Am I the only one you’re talking to on Veiled?
The fact that her answer could be no, and that I’d have no right to anger if that was her response… makes me preemptively and irrationally mad. Just because no one else is flooding my DMs with pink panty pictures or dirty talk doesn’t mean that her DMs are the same.
She’s the female. That automatically makes her the prey on sites like this. And the kink we’re into? It bears judgement. And loads of it.
So the idea that she’d not been hit with a battery of DMs from horny daddies ?—
She replies, short circuiting my brain, cutting my thoughts clean in half. Good , because my thoughts were leading me to a very ragey place.
DaddysGirl
You’re the only one I’m talking to period
Like I said before, I gave up on those other apps
I gave up on in person dating because that never felt right
You, Suede, are the only man in my life
I try my hardest to make my fingers move, to type something witty, to come back with banter that leaves her breathless and eager. But I can’t stop rereading that last line, because each time I read it, a new rush of excitement roars through my veins.
I have a thing with someone.
It’s online. I don’t know her.
But still. It’s been so long since I’ve had a thing .
I lick my lips, and force my fingers to do the hard work that I’ve been somewhat avoiding until now.
Suede0989
Did you find me because of my checked interests?
If you like the same thing that I like, why has it not come up in banter?
Sure, she could’ve been trying to do the same thing that I was trying to do—get lost in something innocuous and trivial until, as Dean says, the real thing falls into my lap.
Maybe we were both just living and enjoying ourselves.
Maybe.
But what if this insane connection we have transcends emotion and friendship, and bleeds into the darkness of my desires? And what if I find her there, in my darkness, greedily scooping up our sin with both hands, drinking, eyes on me, our future laid out before us.
What if she is the perfect fit for me in all ways?
This is quite possibly the closest I’ve ever come.
DaddysGirl
You only have one checked interest
Her acute perception makes my spine hot.
Suede0989
That’s true
Her dots don’t dance, and neither do mine. And I wonder if we’re in a show down, one where I’m waiting for her to dump her proverbial purse out on the table, and she’s waiting for me to empty my pockets.
She saw my interest. I know she did. She’s just admitted as much.
Bringing it up won’t kill things between you two, you fucking baby. Quit dragging it out. Man up, lock in, do it already.
With my internal bully buzzing in the back of my brain, I roll the tension from my neck and start typing. My body is alight as if I’d had that first sip of caffeine, but I haven’t, not yet.
Suede0989
Do you share interest in exploring that dynamic?
A bead of sweat slithers down my temple, and I swipe it away before pouring myself a cup of coffee. Every second that I am not looking at the screen, I’m rewarding myself for not looking.
Your mug is half full, well done, you haven’t checked the chat in at least ten seconds.
Stir in the milk, that’s right. Okay, coffee is now a drinkable color of peanut butter, and now it’s been a solid twenty seconds since you haven’t looked at the screen.
One sip. Take another. Hell, glance out the window and see what Saturday’s all about. There you go. Now it’s been nearly a minute since you haven’t looked.
God it’s wrong how fucking obsessed I am with this anonymous stranger.
You’d know I was lying through my teeth if I said my attraction started with her personality. Obviously fucking not. It started with that fucked up, twisted, sinful, harmless, perfect little screen name .
DaddysGirl.
It’s like she climbed into my soul, rooted around and didn’t stop until she found the one thing to make me wild.
The thing that drove a wedge between my former wife and myself.
The thing that I have had buried for years, mostly because finding someone to match my freak has been much more challenging than I first thought.
If I only had a fucking choking kink or some shit, I swear.
But no.
The thing that makes me moan, that gets my blood roiling and turns my cock to stone is something that doesn’t sit right for some.
I have a daddy and babygirl kink. Roleplaying the dynamic, to be more specific.
Yes, I can draw the distinction between myself and a real father, and in no way does my desire to be a kinky daddy conflate with the ideas of parenthood, or fathering a real child when the time comes.
My kink is rooted in control and care; in how good it feels to take care of someone’s most basic needs on a daily basis while also taking care of all their primal and private needs, pleasing them in ways no one else even knows they need or want.
Being someone’s everything—the man who makes his partner smile, who makes them feel secure, who makes their toes curl, who gives them babies and takes care of everything—that’s who I want to be.
Controlling, I know. My therapist has all but told me I have a kink for control.
But there is nothing that feels better than my fist full of silken hair, a beautiful woman crouched before me, waiting for my words, my orders, her breath bated as she stills, calls me her daddy—the greatest role a man can have, and waits for my commands.
It is the hottest thing in the goddamn world and I’ve tried like hell to decouple the incestually fetishizing aspect from the kink, but for whatever reason, I need that faux-forbidden line.
I need my partner to partake in the fantasy of it, to pretend that I’m both caring for her but claiming ownership of her, commanding of her, like a filthy, bad, dirty daddy does.
I wish it were just control and care, but I need to be her daddy, too.
And I need her to be my slutty, willing, obedient and pliable sweet girl.
Some guys like feet, or worshipping big breasts. This is my thing.
Beyond her screen name, which feels chosen to represent my goddamn fantasies, I did quickly start developing real feelings for her.
The levity she brought to every conversation, her vulnerability in discussion, the way she never shied away from topics—what started as screen name attraction quickly developed into more, and I realized that she is the perfect personality fit for me.
It’s crazy to say it, so I don’t. I don’t tell anyone—not Dean, not Leah, no one—about my use of Veiled , or meeting DaddysGirl .
They know I’ve used dating apps in the past, but admitting to joining an anonymous hookup app that is two steps below Grindr ?
That fact, along with watching and being obsessed with New Girl , will remain my secret.
Finally, after forcing myself to take another few huge drinks of coffee and put two pieces of bread into the toaster, I look at the screen.
DaddysGirl
Yes I do
My overworked brain echoes in my head, so full of racing thoughts that I’m unable to focus on just one. In my throat, above my collarbone, my pulse hammers and the back of my neck grows damp from an onslaught of perspiration.
We’ve addressed the elephant in the room.
And, despite her screen name confirming for me the entire time, she has confirmed that she, too, is into it.
Beneath my cotton pajama pants, everything grows hot and hard, stiffening, warming, making its desires known. I adjust myself, then type.
Suede0989
Should we meet?