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Wren
* * *
We spend the next week talking as much as possible, even if we can’t see each other. Tanner is the first person I text when I wake up and the last person I message before I fall asleep. We alternate where we spend our evenings, although he always drives me home. I sit on Tanner’s knee while we talk about our days. He always asks me to go first, his blue gaze fixed on me as though my tales of working at the British Library are the most fascinating thing he’s heard all day. We fill each other in on our lives during the five years we were apart. Not the cursory information we gave each other to begin with but in-depth accounts of the highs and lows of university and rugby training, our families, and everything in between.
We don’t make love every night, but on the nights we do, our foreplay is long, and the sex is hot. He tied me to his bed, like he promised he would, and made love to me over the course of an hour, stopping every time either of us was close to orgasm. When he finally allowed me to come, it was mind-blowing. I hope it was for him too.
Before we part each evening, Tanner helps me decide what to eat the next day. It’s not that I can’t do it myself, but that I want my Daddy to help me. When we’re at my flat, he helps me make my lunchbox for the next day. On Wednesday, I ask him to set me a bedtime, which he does, based on when I need to get up and how much sleep I need.
By the time the week ends, I feel like I know Tanner intimately again. We click like we did when we were younger. He seems to know me better than I know myself, which is why it’s easy to trust him to know what I need.
On Saturday, I work until noon. Tanner meets me at the end of my shift. At his request, I brought an overnight bag with me. He carries it as I show him around the British Library, and then he takes me to lunch at a cute bistro restaurant. I try not to look at the prices on the menu and simply enjoy being spoiled.
Afterwards, we walk around Hyde Park, hand in hand. We find a quiet spot in the shade. Tanner sits and encourages me to lie with my head and shoulders on his lap. He strokes my hair as an hour or so drifts by in quiet contentment. Five years ago, we’d have only done something like this at our spot, surrounded by brick and concrete. Being able to be so close to him in the busiest park in central London fills my heart with joy.
We get back to Tanner’s flat around four.
“Your present arrived,” he says.
If it’s what I think it is, I don’t blame him for not giving it to me in the bistro cafe or the park.
He pulls me onto his knee on the sofa and hands me a gift-wrapped box. My stomach flutters as I untie an electric-blue bow. I slide my finger beneath each piece of sticky tape and unwrap the metallic silver paper with care. There’s a white box inside, made of thick card. The box is heavy, but I resist the urge to rattle it. I have to use both hands to pull the lid off, as it’s a little snug. I gasp. Three anal plugs are nestled in blue shredded paper. It looks like they’re made out of steel. Each one is a different size, and the circular bases are made of coloured glass. The smallest says, ‘Come in me, Daddy’, the medium-sized one says, ‘Use me, Daddy’, and the largest says, ‘Daddy’s cum slut’.
I hug the box against my stomach as I put my other arm around Tanner’s neck and kiss him. “I love them, Daddy.”
“You could wear the smallest one during the evening,” he suggests. “For an hour or two.”
I shiver at the thought. I’ve worn anal plugs before, but only as part of foreplay. “I think I’d have to build up to that.”
“Of course. Perhaps for twenty minutes at first. Then you can build up your tolerance from there by a few minutes at a time.”
“That’s a good idea, Daddy.” I rest my head against his shoulder and point at the middle one. “And this one? What would I use this one for?”
“Foreplay.”
“And this one?” I point at the largest.
He chuckles. “That one is for plugging your arse after I’ve come inside you.”
I groan as I turn my face into his shoulder. “Oh, Daddy.”
“We can use it later if you want.”
“I want, Daddy. But why later?” I lift my head and stroke my fingers through his short beard. “You could take me to the bedroom now.” I undo the top button of his polo shirt. “You could tie me to the bed again.”
My body tremors with the mental image of myself handcuffed to Tanner’s bed, with the largest anal plug in my arse and his cum dribbling down my thighs. I rock my arse over his lap, smiling as his cock responds.
He takes the box from me and puts it on the sofa. “Not yet, baby.”
I pout.
He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip until I stop pouting. “Daddy knows best,” he reminds me.
I release a happy sigh and rest my head on him again. “Yes, you do.”
“I thought we’d watch a film.”
I can’t help it. My forehead creases into a frown. But my face is turned away from him, so I doubt he can see it.
