This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.
I thought it was weird when my boyfriend told me I should switch back from contacts to glasses. We’d been dating for a few months, and he made little recommendations like that all the time. I just chalked it up to generational differences. I’d never dated a guy young enough to be my son before, and I didn’t think much of it. When he brought home a pair of glasses for me to try on, I just went along with it. Hey, if it’s what the young people are wearing these days, might as well make the boyfriend happy, right?
I can’t remember clearly when things started to change. I started getting… I don’t know, confused, I guess? Making mistakes at work, losing my way on the drive home. My boyfriend was so understanding. He said my glasses probably just needed a stronger prescription. He got me another pair. And then another. And another. I stopped wearing contacts altogether. Wearing my boyfriend’s glasses made me feel happy. Hip. Cool. Young.
The gym workouts got pretty intense for a while. At one point, I was up to five hours of training a day, five days a week. I didn’t have time for much else, except to cook my handsome guy his meals and do his laundry. It was good he convinced me to take the early retirement offer from my job. My pension has more than enough for us to live on. For a while, at least.
On New Year’s Day, he gave me another new pair of glasses. When I put them on, it felt like my brain got put through a juice press. I closed my eyes and squeezed the bridge of my nose to get rid of the piercing pain. When I looked up, my handsome, 28-year-old Son, Boss, and Sir was looking back at me. That grin of His drove me wild.
“You all right, dad?” He asked, the corners of His mouth turning upward in that totally kissable way.
“Oh, yeah, Son,” I said as I pulled Him close against my muscled body. All I wanted was to protect Him, to care for Him, and to serve Him. “Everything’s all right.”
I love my handsome, dominant Son. Every day, I get up early to make His breakfast and lay out His clothes for the day. I wake Him up with a kiss on the lips and then head out to work. To save money, my Son sold my car and bought me a bike to get to work. My job making coffee drinks at Starbucks pays for O/our health insurance, and my Son takes care of the rest. He even picks out my glasses for me.
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