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.
As a reward for my hard work at the gym, my 29-year-old Sir bought me an iPhone. It’s set up to only call and text Sir, and I can’t figure out how to download apps to it, but He made sure I have plenty of music to listen to.
I listen to Sir’s playlists every day, and when He comes home from work at night, I always have new ideas I want to share with Him. The first was wanting to grow out my beard. Then I wanted to get some tattoos. I wanted Sir to move in with me, and last month, I admitted to Him how much I wanted to take early retirement from my finance job and become a full-time househusband. Each time, Sir has been so accommodating and encouraging. Sir truly cares about Me.
It felt so good to listen to Sir’s playlists the whole time I walked home from the gym—Sir takes my car to work these days. When I got home, I sat in the backyard by the pool, and a notification on my phone screen caught my attention.
I was confused. I don’t have any kids. But my thumbs started typing anyway, composing a message back.
Hey Son, what can I do for You?
I didn’t understand why I said that. Son? Why was I calling Son Son? I mean, Sir Son? And why was I feeling this rush of pleasure in my groin?
Nothin’. Just wanted to check something real quick. See you when I get home dad.
My thumbs started typing again, completely out of my control. My eyes went crossed from pleasure as I hammered out my reply.
Roger that, Son. I’ll have dinner ready for You when You get home from work.
As soon as I hit Send, an image flashed on my screen for a split second and then vanished. I stood up, feeling my entire body pulsating with pleasure as I walked into the kitchen, stripped off my shirt, and put on an apron.
It was time to start preparing dinner for my Son.
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