Avery
I’m standing on the precipice of either euphoria or disaster, and I’m going to take a huge risk here because go big, or go home. All this joking and dancing around the truth is ridiculous since there’s no way I could bring him up to my room and let him fuck my brains out without telling him the truth anyway.
What’s the worst that can happen? He laughs at me and I pretend I was kidding, and we go our separate ways? As neighbors who now have to look at each other awkwardly until one of us moves out of our condo? Ugh.
I spin around, leaning against the counter so I don’t fall. “Are you familiar with age play, Andrew?”
He nods. “More or less.”
“I’m a Middle,” I blurt out.
Another slow nod. At least he’s not laughing at me. Nor does he look stunned. Nor does he look completely confused.
I’m sure he has questions, but he’s going to be polite at least.
He holds my gaze and pushes his chair back. Seconds tick by before he speaks, slowly smiling. “If I’d been paying closer attention, I guess I would have known. After all, the signs were all right in front of me.”
I frown. “What signs?”
“The way you dress when you’re home in your safe space. The way you wear your hair. Your mannerisms. Your sassy attitude. And now I understand why you’ve been nearly swooning when I’ve done things for you tonight.”
I roll my eyes. “I haven’t swooned.”
He chuckles. “We can add eye-rolling to the list.”
This is going much better than I expected.
His eyes widen. “Aha. This is why you’re looking for an older man. It’s how you picture a Daddy.”
I pull in a deep breath. “Yes.”
“What if I can do the job just as well without the gray hair and the potbelly?” he teases gently.
I groan. “Stop with that description. Those are your words, not mine.”
Another deep, sexy chuckle. He reaches out a hand. “Come here, honey.”
I hesitate. This entire day is surreal. Am I really going to give this man a chance?
“Avery, honey, come to me.” His voice is calm and kind, but firm and demanding.
There’s no way I can deny him, and I don’t want to. I’m so aroused right now I’m not sure I can make the trip to him without my knees giving out, but somehow I manage.
As soon as I’m close enough, he grabs my hand, pulls me between his legs, and wraps his arm around me.
We’re nearly eye to eye with me standing and him sitting. He cups my face with his free hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it was hard.”
I nod. God, he really is kind.
“I’m not going to pretend I know everything there is to know about age play or Middles, but I get the idea. Nor do I want you to panic because nothing has changed. Your admission makes everything clearer to me, but it doesn’t factor into my attraction for you.”
I lick my lips. I’m still in shock.
“I might not have had the vocabulary, but the truth is I’ve been attracted to your Middle from the moment I set eyes on you. You like to express yourself when you’re at home. I’ve noticed you dress relatively low-key when you go to work, but the moment you get home, you change into vibrant colors, braid your hair, go barefoot.”
I chew on my bottom lip until he silently plucks it free and continues, “Your choice in clothing is usually pretty young. Ruffles and spaghetti straps and boy band concert T-shirts. Your giggle is infectious.”
I smile, relaxing marginally.
“The thing is I like you exactly as you are, Avery. It makes more sense now that you’ve explained yourself, but it changes nothing.” He pulls me closer, his palm sliding down to cup my bottom. “This is why you got divorced, isn’t it?”
I nod. “We went to fetish clubs together and even experimented with age play together, but I veered closer to twelve, and he prefers a much younger age. We were always clashing.”
“Tell me about your Middle. What does she like? Paint a picture for me.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear as if I’m the most precious person on earth. His fingers linger on my neck.
I inhale slowly. “Unlike most people, middle school was my favorite age. It’s why I also teach it.”
“I’ve never asked you what subject you teach.”
“Social studies.”
He grins. “I’d never pass your class.”
I smile, relaxing further and further by the moment.
“Sorry I interrupted. Go on.”
“I like being old enough to be disagreeable and sassy but young enough not to care so much what other people think. None of the high school nonsense with hair and makeup and flirting.”
Andrew lifts a brow. “No boys?” He’s smiling, but he’s concerned.
I giggle. “Well, there is that exception.” I play with the buttons on his black shirt. I love that he put on his best jeans and an ironed shirt for me. It shows me he will put forth the effort. Not to mention the flowers.
“We’ll come back to that. Tell me more.”
“I like to color, and do art projects, and paint my nails, and watch reruns of old tween shows, and dance like a crazy person to bands no one my age likes.”
His smile widens. “I want to see this dancing.”
I shake my head, blushing. “Never.”
He strokes the small of my back with his thumb. “Never say never.”
I bite my lip and release it. Am I sharing too much? “I have a room upstairs. I go there in the evenings and pretend I’m twelve.”
“Will you show me?”
I hesitate. “Maybe.” I’m still not sure how much I should trust him. What if he turns on me and starts laughing?
“Fair enough. We’ll readdress that later.” He cups my face and kisses me again. This time we know more about each other. The first time we kissed, there was pure, raw lust between us. We’ve evolved, but that lust has strengthened.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex. I want Andrew more than I’ve wanted another man since my divorce, and if I’m perfectly honest, I don’t remember feeling this intensity with Craig. Maybe we were never fully on the same page.
But it would be preposterous to assume Andrew and I are on the same page. It’s much too soon to know, but my heart is racing with the possibilities.
Andrew breaks the kiss when we need air, like the first time. He also lifts me onto his knee. I panic and try to slide back off him, but he grabs my hips and holds me in place. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I’m too heavy,” I murmur.
He tips my chin back. “Stop that nonsense. You’re not too heavy. You’re absolutely perfect, and I like you on my lap.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re just being nice.”
He furrows his brow. “I’m going to say this one time, and then this subject is closed. I’m attracted to you exactly the way you are. I don’t want to hear another word about you being heavy. I like a woman who isn’t skin and bones. I wouldn’t want you to change a thing. If you try to go all dainty on me and order salads and shit, I’ll spank your bottom.” His expression is full-on Daddy stern.
I squeeze my thighs together, my clit pulsing. His commanding voice and face alone could melt me on the spot.
He lifts a brow. “Understood?”
I swallow. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He pats my bottom.
I can’t hear my own thoughts over the beating of my heart. I clear my throat. “Have you spanked anyone before?”
“Yes. And I’ve been itching to spank you for over a year if you want the truth.”
I can’t keep from smiling, but I also can’t stop the heat that climbs up my chest.
“Is that something you like in a relationship? Spanking?” he asks.
“Sometimes. I don’t like it every day, nor do I like to be punished like a toddler. That was one of the main points of contention with my ex. He has a spanking fetish more suitable to a naughty five-year-old. I enjoy a good spanking now and then, but mostly for sexual pleasure.”
Andrew gives a firm nod. “Noted.”
I bite my lip and decide to reveal more. “Talking about spanking me is more impactful than doing it.”
“Got it. So, you’re squirming on my lap because the threat of being disciplined with a punishment spanking arouses you. You don’t always need the actual release from a swat to your bottom.”
I shrug shyly and murmur, “A swat is nice.”
His smile grows and he kisses me again, briefly this time. “Who decides when you get spanked?”
My eyes widen. “You do, Sir.”
Another nod. “Just making sure.”
This can’t be real. It’s too good to be true. He may be thirty-five, but how much does he really know about age play and spanking? He may have dabbled, but I’m not convinced it’s enough to give me what I desperately need. I’ve sworn to myself I’ll never settle. If I’m going to enter into another long-term relationship with anyone, it better be with a dominant man who checks off damn near every box on my list of qualifications.
Not having spent much one-on-one time with Andrew, I can’t be certain about very many of the boxes. My sticking points so far include his age and his lack of sufficient experience with Middles.
To be fair, he’s been the best, most firm, authoritative Daddy I’ve been with in years from the moment he walked into my condo. So perhaps I should cut him some slack. He doesn’t seem repulsed by my fetish. He hasn’t made a joke about it. Indeed, he’s jumped right in and made it clear to me he intends to figure out what I need and give it to me.
He’s a unicorn.
On top of that, I’m so horny and so attracted to him that I’m willing to take this chance, even though we might both wake up tomorrow and realize we’ve made a horrible mistake and one of us is going to have to move. I’m not at all sure that’s an exaggeration because with these kinds of sparks, if it goes bad, it could go very bad.
“Ignoring my lack of gray hair…” he teases. “How am I stacking up now that you know me a little better?”
I bite my lip, scrunching up my face in an exaggerated, goofy, tween look I hope says are you seriously kidding right now?
He gives me a shake. “I’m serious. Answer me. And don’t roll those sassy eyes again unless you really do want to experience the caveman routine. I’m not opposed to tossing you over my shoulder and spanking your sexy bottom while you’re too helpless to stop me.”
I shudder again at the mention of his palm swatting me. I wasn’t kidding. The discussion is half the fun. Wiggling on his lap, I tell him, “You were always an eleven out of ten, both earlier and now.”
He looks shocked, and then he cocks his head to one side. “Only eleven? I’d say you’re a twenty, hands down.”
I giggle. “That’s silly. You can only go to eleven out of ten. Those are the rules.”
He laughs, his body vibrating and shaking mine, and then his voice and expression sober as he holds my gaze. “Let me tell you a bit about me.”
I nod, liking the idea of shifting the attention to him.
“I’m a dominant man, hands down. Even though I haven’t spent a lot of time in fetish clubs, I’m not ignorant about dominance and submission. Most of it comes naturally. In my past relationships, I’ve found women think they’d like a bit of dominance at first, but vanilla women tend to pull away and get defensive and change their minds after a few dates.”
I nod, wanting him to continue. I love listening to his voice any day of the week, but this is important too.
“My relationships are often short. As soon as a woman realizes I’m as dominant as I am, she tends to take a step back, letting society cause her to assert her ill-informed and misunderstood need to demand respect. I accept the fact that we’re not on the same page and it’ll never work out.”
I know I’m frowning as I try to absorb his speech.
He chuckles. “What I’m trying to say is that I understand there’s a fine line in the fetish community. Just because you allow yourself to be vulnerable and submissive doesn’t mean you don’t also see yourself as strong, and competent, and equal to the men you encounter.”
I nod slowly. He does seem well-informed.
“This is why you’ve spent two years stomping your foot when I mow your lawn, isn’t it, honey?”
I smile, nodding again. “I can mow my own lawn,” I point out for the millionth time.
“And I know you can. I’m certain you can do anything you set your mind to.” He glances up at my ceiling. “Except maybe change these lightbulbs without breaking your neck,” he teases.
I giggle.
“The point is, I get it. A part of you wants to submit because you’re wired that way. It doesn’t make you weaker than me, or anyone else. It actually makes you stronger. Submitting requires a level of vulnerability most people won’t permit themselves to feel.”
Damn. He totally gets it. And he’s growing on me by the second.
“Now, I’ll be honest, I’ve never specifically taken on a Daddy role with a woman, but it intrigues me, and more importantly you intrigue me. Everything about you makes me take notice. And honey, I’ve noticed a lot in the past two years.”
I purse my lips, unable to respond to that. Part of me wants to throw myself at him, wrap my arms around his neck, and hug him tight. I want this to be real, but I’m scared out of my mind that I’m going to get hurt when the dust settles.
“I may not be what you envisioned, but will you give me a chance? I bet you’ll find out I can be the firm Dom you’re looking for, and with a little research and guidance, I’d like to try to be the Daddy you need, too.”
“I’d like that.” My voice is faint, but he hears me.
When he sets his hand on my thigh and rubs up and down my bare skin, reaching under my skirt so his thumb comes dangerously close to my pussy, my breath hitches.
“Talk to me about sex.”
I flush deeply. “Do I have to?”
“Does it embarrass you?”
“Yes.” He’s so brazen and forward. It’s disarming. “Can’t we just… you know… do it? And not discuss it?”
“Do you want to have sex with me, Avery?”
I swallow, hating that we have to verbalize this. “Yes,” I admit. This is shocking to me. I mean, I know I’ve been attracted to him for two years, and he’s featured in every one of my daydreams, but I never really expected to actually act on them.
“Good, because I’d really like to have sex with you too. But first, I want to talk about it.”
“What sort of man wants to discuss sex before doing it?” I ask, wringing my hands together.
“The kind who wants to make sure his woman gets what she needs out of it without me having to guess.” He gives my thigh a squeeze. “I know you spend a lot of time in your Middle space, but what about when you have sex? Do you prefer to switch to an adult headspace, or do you like a Daddy to take charge and dominate you in your Middle space?”
I fidget. I can’t believe he’s asking this question, and I’m not sure I can do this. I could have sex with him, but I really don’t want to talk about it.
I consider sliding off his lap and running from the room to avoid this chat, but Andrew’s fingers tighten on my thigh, his other hand gripping the small of my back. I’m not going to get out of this. “I don’t know.”
He frowns, confused. How can I blame him?
I have no options here. I must tell him the truth. “I’ve only had sex with one man, and we didn’t have the age-play dynamic fully worked out when we got divorced.”
Andrew swallows. “You’ve only slept with your ex-husband?”
I nod, biting my lip. Does this freak him out? Turn him off?
“Okay. No pressure.” He grins and pulls in a deep breath. “So, it’s been more than two years since you’ve had sex.”
I nod, feeling the heat climb up my cheeks.
“Why on Earth does that embarrass you? It’s fucking hot, Avery.”
He thinks it’s hot?
He gives my thigh a squeeze. “I mean it. Now, tell me something else. When you masturbate, what do you think about?”
Heat like I’ve never felt before rises over my face and down my chest. In fact, I twist into him and bury my face in his neck. God, he smells good. Clean. The soap he uses and his deodorant. He showered recently. I’m glad he didn’t shave though.
His hand slides to my back, rubbing up and down. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, honey. I know it’s hard to talk about sex, especially if you’re twelve, but I need you to be honest with me so I can be sure to give you what you crave.”
I burrow into him, wiggling closer until there’s not a single sliver of space between us.
“You do masturbate, right?”
I nod against his neck.
“Do you use your fingers or do you have a vibrator?”
I giggle, unable to stop myself. “Both.”
“When you close your eyes and focus on your pleasure, who are you?”
I swallow. “I’m young, but not quite that young. Sixteen, maybe.”
“Ah. So you’re innocent and vulnerable?”
I nod again and find my brave voice. “I like to pretend it’s always the first time.”
“And you’re with a Daddy?”
“Yes. Definitely,” I tell his neck, not meeting his gaze still. “He knows what he’s doing, and I’m innocent. No one has ever seen me naked before. I’ve never spread my legs for anyone. I’ve never seen a penis before. Never touched one. Never given a blow job. That kind of thing.”
“Got it.” When he holds me tighter, I let out a long breath. That was very difficult to verbalize, but now that it’s over, I feel better. He’s right. He can do a much better job making sure I’m sexually satisfied if he knows my secret desires. I never expected to be telling anyone this private stuff though, so I feel vulnerable and very much in my Middle space.
Andrew kisses the top of my head. “I know that was hard. I’m proud of you. Will you show me your space now?”
I finally pull away from him and meet his gaze again, searching his face. I’ve never felt more vulnerable in my life. This entire evening has been filled with the unexpected. I feel slightly out-of-body. “Okay.”
Andrew sets me on my feet, keeping his hands on my hips. He holds my gaze for a long time before lifting one hand to brush a lock of hair from my forehead. “You are precious and adorable, and you deserve the world. Let me be the Daddy who gives it to you.”