Page 12 of Rowan’s Renewal (DKAG Summer Shorts #6)

D espite fighting the strange, floaty feeling in my head, and the urge to hand over control to what feels like a younger, more helpless version of myself, I allow myself to think of Aaron as Daddy as he helps me off his lap and into the bathroom.

He undresses me with the same kind of gentle reverence as when he diapered me, tossing my soiled pants and underwear into a pile in the corner of the bathroom, then lobbing my shirt on top.

His clothes follow more hastily, and I realize that this is the first time I'm seeing him naked.

He's just as gorgeous out of his clothes as in them.

With a smooth, hairless chest (completely different to my furry one), a lean abdomen, and surprisingly muscular thighs considering the rest of his build, he's perfection.

Even his cock looks perfect, nestled in a thatch of trimmed dark pubic hair currently matted with the evidence of how much he enjoyed.

..well, the thing that happened on the couch.

Jesus, I...I peed on him. And he liked it.

And I liked that he liked it.

I want to do it all again.

Twenty-odd years of experience tells me that I should be disgusted by those particular inclinations. But a couple of minutes on the couch with Aaron says otherwise.

He came .

He came hard. Calling my name.

After I urinated all over his lap.

And he wasn't ashamed of that. He wasn't embarrassed that we were sitting in a puddle of my pee, and he really didn't seem at all bothered by me knowing how much he enjoyed the whole thing. And, for a brief moment, I felt good. Proud, even.

I had done that. I made him come in his underwear. Me.

But those feelings conflict with everything any of my exes have ever said about my lack of bladder control.

It feels selfish to have liked that so much. Selfish and weird and wrong.

Dirty.

"Do you want to talk about it now, or after the shower?

" Aaron asks, taking my hand and squeezing it.

"Because your thoughts are written all over your face, Ro.

Which is why I am sorry we didn't get to plan that.

That you didn't get much of a choice about if you really wanted to do that or not. About if you were ready."

"I liked it," I blurt, feeling my cheeks burn with the confession. "I didn't expect to like it. And everything I've ever thought about my condition and...and my accidents..."

"I know, sweetheart. It's confronting. But," he squeezes my hand, waiting until I meet his gaze before he smiles, "there's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself.

It was consensual. You know I liked it." He sweeps a hand over his crotch, his smile turning crooked.

"And it was private. Nobody else ever needs to know what we do together if you don't want them to.

The only people who need to be okay with any of it are us. Just you and me."

His words calm my inner turmoil. He's right.

My shame and embarrassment comes from what other people have thought and have said.

Other people who have hurt me and left me.

Their thoughts and opinions stopped mattering years ago, so why should I be concerned about any of that now?

Especially when, for the first time I can recall, my issues don't feel like a roadblock.

If anything, they feel like something Aaron and I can turn into positives between us.

It was one thing to know, hypothetically, that Aaron wouldn't freak out if one of my nightmare scenarios played out in real time. But to see his acceptance —his enjoyment — in action? It’s too good to be true.

I am actually glad that we didn’t plan it. That I got to see his genuine reaction to something happening in the moment. That none of it felt rehearsed or premeditated or negotiated.

Aaron’s hand is warm and solid in mine, anchoring me to the here and now.

Am I okay with what we did? What we’ll continue doing? The diapers and the golden showers and whatever else we try?

My heart thumps wildly with nervous anticipation.

I am.

***

Later, after the shower (where Daddy washed me with a tenderness that almost brought tears to my eyes), dressing, and cleaning up the couch, we sit on the lanai and look out over the lush greenery that stretches towards the oceanside.

We’re both sipping mimosas, and I’m not worried about the wine going through me.

Instead, we talk about how much fun we had on the water today, about maybe visiting Australia Zoo (which is only an hour or so south of our resort), and about other places we might like to explore while we’re here.

Eventually, the conversation turns back to what happened on the couch. I appreciate that Aaron has given me time to process it all properly, but I’m not freaking out. I made my choice; it turned out to be the right one, and I tell him so.

“I just worry that my lack of foresight took away your consent,” he says, turning away from the pretty view to look me in the eye. He’s completely serious, and my heart sinks to think that he’s been worrying about this for the past couple of hours while I have been reveling in how amazing it was.

I reach for his hand and squeeze it. “You did give me a choice,” I remind him. “Sure, in an ideal world, we might have planned it all out, but I think I’m starting to like being impulsive when it comes to you.”

His lips quirk and his fingers tighten around mine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Ever since the moment he sauntered up to the reception desk and rescued me, I’ve been impulsive with Dr. Aaron Park. And every snap decision so far has led to good things. Except for almost being shark food. Hard pass on that happening again.

“And…you did enjoy it? Your first watersports experience?”

I could have shuffled off his lap and I might have even had enough time to make it to the bathroom before disaster struck, but I chose to stay and share my loss of control with him.

I reflect on the relief of letting go, and on how secure I felt in his lap, and how surprised I was to feel his cock swelling and twitching through an orgasm. For the first time ever, I made the choice to piss myself and, for the first time ever, I liked the results.

I liked the way Aaron’s fingers had dug into my ass. I liked his blissed-out moans and panted-out encouragement. I loved hearing my name spill from his lips as he reached the ultimate peak of pleasure.

I felt like I was in control of that.

“I really did,” I answer honestly. “It…it took something I’ve been ashamed of for so long and has given me a positive memory.

Something to look back on and say ‘it doesn’t have to be disgusting, it can be hot’.

And watching you come made it hot. It made me feel sexy in a way I’ve never felt sexy before. ”

It’s hard to describe the feeling, because wetting myself also brought on that sensation of being small, too, even while I felt empowered sexually.

Aaron’s smile is filled with understanding, and he nods. “To me, it is so sexy. I feel genuinely privileged that you trusted me to be so vulnerable. I don’t take that trust lightly, sweetheart.”

“I know. Everything you have done so far has proven that far more than words alone possibly could.” Shaking my head, I look over the trees again, catching a glimpse of the ocean glinting gold and orange with the fading sun.

“It’s hard to believe I’ve only known you a couple of days.

It already feels like we’ve known each other for years. ”

Hell, I’m closer to Aaron than I ever was with Alex or the men I dated before him. I’ve done things with him I never would have imagined doing with Alex, even if Alex had asked me to. Is this what he meant when he said that BDSM relationships feel more intimate much sooner? It must be.

“I feel that way, too,” he tells me. “We have so much more to learn about each other, but I’m already hoping that we can continue dating when we go home. That we can make a real relationship work between us.”

Any remaining tension or fear that I’m allowing myself to get too attached too soon evaporates at his words.

I’m learning quickly that I can take whatever he says at face value, and the fact that he wants the same things that I do lifts a weight from my shoulders.

It makes my next words come easily and naturally, as if I was born to say them.

“I hope we can, too, Daddy.”