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A plan was forming for our next date night. I had a friend with a pottery studio and certain nights of the month she catered to those in the lifestyle. It was like a munch but held in a studio and was quite successful. I had been and enjoyed myself with both the company and the act of creating something with my hands. There is something about the sensation of molding with your fingers.
“Pottery is something we can explore.” Shelby smiled, real happiness shining in her eyes. At the heart of her, she was a very uncomplicated woman, and it came through in her needs as not being a high-maintenance person. That being said, she was also like a wild mustang, and I needed to keep a close eye on her to keep her stubborn will from spiraling out of control.
Posters had a big tick mark. “What type of posters do you like, Shelby?”
“80s is my jam, Daddy. I love the 80s and the old retro posters are so cool. Movie ones especially, and John Hughes movie posters are some of my faves. Do you know his work?”
“Pretty in Pink?”
“Yes!” she squealed, “but some of the racier movies from the 80s too. The era is rife with teens doing what feels right and I can relate to that. I feel like the 90s were all about love ballads and dramas. Early 2000s were the same and the early to mid-2000s got better and now, other than games most of this new stuff isn’t great. Although I do like Riverdale and love, love, love, Archie comics. Oh… and Nancy Drew, she rocks!”
I liked this new version of Shelby, new to me, at least. She was very open about what she liked and didn’t, and I found her refreshing in more ways than one. My sister had kept both Nancy Drew and Archie comics in her room, so I knew exactly to what she was referring.
Later last night after she’d fallen asleep, it felt right to do some shopping after yesterday’s fiasco. I went online and ordered everything she’d shown a passion for during our interview session. And all the latest systems. I decided to give it a go with her and would alter the nursery into a teen room designed for the Middle within Shelby. She would have a place to just be in a space that showed her personality.
Wanting it to be a surprise, I took her on a lunch date, to keep the apartment empty for the renovation, using our outing as an excuse to fill her closet with premium jeans, tanks and converse sneakers, as well as the floral patterns and pink she seemed drawn to. If I wasn’t mistaken that was the color scheme for the character in Pretty in Pink. The character, Andi, in that movie was creative, and seemed to live her life to the beat of her own drum, very much a self-starter like Shelby, only she had a daddy who cared and loved her. And now so did Shelby, at least while she resided in my home, but even I wasn’t that stupid; one just didn’t open and close their heart so easily. Both of us would need time to nurse the ache, so the better prepared she was, the better I would feel about our inevitable separation.
We waltzed into Bootlegger. “Daddy, I really want Big Blues.”
“Okay, what are Big Blues?”
She giggled. “They were a style of jeans sold at this store in the eighties, high-waisted, snug, with wide generous legs, they’re perfect.”
We searched the store for anything that said “Big Blues” until a salesclerk took mercy on us and said that the version of the Levi 501e jeans had no current reincarnation.
“See, Daddy,” Shelby said as we left the store, “everything I like is vintage. I’m so impossible, sorry.”
“Shelby,” I growled, “don’t say disparaging things about yourself. I don’t like it and what you said is based on how you are feeling and not based on the situation. Now, let’s find us some vintage stores. Sazz and Retrospect are close and probably have lots of great items. Then lunch, I need to feed my girl.”
Shifting from babygirl to girl had been a relatively easy process. Although I still threw in the occasional babygirl out of habit, and thankfully, she either didn’t mind or was willing to overlook the term of endearment.
I wasn’t missing what I didn’t have with her and was discovering that my desire to take care of her wasn’t wrapped up in teatime play or dollies, but more about filling in the missing pieces for her which still fully engaged my Daddy side. The fact she identified with a Middle had me wondering if it was because that was where she’d lacked the most?
Her parents had died when she was a child. As to what age, she hadn’t specified. Maybe something happened in her teens that drove her to need that eleven to fourteen-year-old space? That, or, because she was so defined by her work, was only willing to let go as much as a young teen already fighting for their own personality would have.
It was a beautiful day in Philly, and I was happy to be out of my office, feeling the sun on my face. Strolling hand in hand, we entered Sazz. The place had amazing finds mostly from the 70s and 80s and a few 90s thrown in. Shelby found what was called landlubber pants back in the day that most resembled her version of the Big Blues and paired them with a carnation-pink blouse.
I got caught up in the excitement and went rummaging for a similar outfit. Never having worn pink, it shocked me to see the pale pink from the Miami Vice era looked good with my skin tone. Shelby giggled and stood beside me. We made quite a pair; other shoppers gave us the thumbs up as they passed.
“I guess I’m going retro right along with you. Just wait until we get home and I rip those pants right off that perfect ass.”
Shelby’s eyes dilated. “You know just what to say, Daddy, can we go home now?”
“Are you kidding? And miss goofing around here with you? No way. Besides, I’m convinced I can find some Don Johnson pants at our next stop.”
I paid, and we moved on to the next store, where we spent way more time playing dress-up and being goofy than I had since I was a kid. The time flew by, and it was mid-afternoon by the time we left the restaurant. Back at home, Shelby got busy, happily puttering in the bedroom, listening to Blondie, while going through bags and placing the items in the closet.
I was just finishing up an email when Shelby knocked on my office door. “Sir, may I enter?”
I loved the reverence in her tone. “Enter.”
Shelby opened the door in nothing but a thong and her hair up in pigtails. Jesus!
“I’m hungry, Daddy,” she purred as she came around my desk. “I need to fill my mouth.”
My cock sprung to attention when she’d opened the door, and as she kneeled on the floor in front of me, was straining to be released from the confines of my pants and shorts. Shelby carefully unzipped my pants over my engorged cock, licking her lips when my cock sprung out of my shorts.
Holy hell this woman is hot!
