Dirty Daddies: 2020 Anniversary Anthology

by Maren Smith

  Most offices probably didn’t have stuffed animals, but mine were different. Most of them were various characters I’d worked on over the years. There were a few Gordon had gotten me since we’d started dating, but most of those lived on our bed because they were special.

  Oh, I had stuffies on my bed.

  Okay, so I had a colorful room with stuffed animals and art supplies and junk food.

  But it was my room, and it was the most perfect place to work I’d ever had. How much of that was just because Gordon had put so much effort into it and how much was because it looked like I was working in a kid’s bedroom?

  I might not technically have a bed, but there was a stack of blankets in the corner because sometimes I got cold when I sat too long. No matter how I studied the room, though, I loved it. I wouldn’t change anything, but did that necessarily have to mean something?

  I’d spent the last few days thinking about what Gordon had said and what I’d found online. After reading a few blogs and dozens of articles, I had a better idea about what he was picturing, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  Looking down at the dragon in my arms, I had to smile and admit I wasn’t the most grown-up person I’d ever met. But there was a difference between being a kid at heart and being a Little, right?

  Maybe.

  “What do you think, Boris?” The marketing department had renamed him something stupid, but I’d refused to use their abomination. He’d been Boris from the very beginning, and that was how I was always going to see him. Dragons should be from far-off places, not sound like they lived in the Bronx.

  “Boris thinks you’ve been working too long today and didn’t get a proper lunch.” Gordon’s voice coming from the doorway made me laugh.

  I pointed to Boris. “Loose lips sink ships. Shh.”

  Gordon laughed but came in when I reached up and waved my hand. “I’m stuck.”

  He walked over, shaking his head. “You’re lazy, not stuck.”

  But he took my hand and pulled me into his arms. His tight hug had me melting into him as he kissed my head. “How was your day?”

  Resting on his chest, I smiled. “Good. I like how it’s coming together.”

  One hand started stroking my back. “But I’m taking that to mean cereal is all you’ve eaten?”

  I sighed and nodded. “Yes, I don’t know how that happened.”

  He chuckled. “I do. But we’ll fix that.”

  “How was your day?” I straightened and returned his kiss. “Did you have to fire that asshole?”

  Gordon shook his head. “No, so far he’s behaving himself, no more complaints from the other people on his crew.”

  Most of the time Gordon described his work as boring but necessary. However, lately he’d been getting a lot of complaints about a new guy who was having a hard time keeping his unwanted personal opinions to himself.

  “I’m not sure if that’s good or not.” He’d been given one final reprimand and if he mouthed off about anyone else’s religion or sexuality again, he was gone.

  Gordon shrugged. “I don’t know. He seemed… confused last time and said we wouldn’t have any more problems from him, but we’ll see.”

  “So your day was good?” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling when he did. It just filled his entire face and made me happy when he looked like that.

  “Yes, I had a good lunch with Sawyer and everything else went well.” He hugged me tight. “But now I’m ready to have dinner with my love and relax.”

  When he’d first started talking about one of the office workers he was finally getting to know, I’d gotten a tiny bit jealous. But Gordon had just fucked me into the mattress and made sure I knew there was no one else for him. So, while the jealousy had long since faded, my curiosity hadn’t… especially when Gordon had come home talking about the guy having two partners.

  But since we’d had to miss the company get-together because I’d somehow managed to catch the flu, I still had so many unanswered questions it was frustrating. I kept pushing him to invite them over for dinner, but so far Sawyer had kept making excuses about why they couldn’t. I was pretty sure I’d done something to make him nervous, but Gordon said it was all in my imagination.

  “Is there anything specific you want for dinner? I think we have steaks and some ground sausage.” He got a lost look like he was trying to picture what was in the fridge. “We might have a few chicken breasts from the other night too. I just can’t remember.”

  As he listed off a few more random things that might be in the freezer, I looked around the room. If this was one of my favorite places in the house and Gordon wanted to give me more of that same feeling in other things we did, would trying be so bad?

  If I weren’t forcing myself to be a grown-up when I was picking out dinner, what would I want?

  “Noodles and sauce.” I gave him a sweetly innocent look as he stopped talking about the vegetables he was thinking about cooking.

  There were only so many vegetables he could hide in spaghetti.

  Gordon nodded then cocked his head, giving me a curious look. I could see his brain working as I curled back into him, still holding Boris. “And Boris wants the buttery bread.”

  Yep, pasketti was a Little kind of meal.

  If I was going to try to be Little, I was going to get more fun food.

  Gordon kissed my head. “Then we shall make sure Boris gets buttery garlic bread.”

  “And ice cream.” Might as well aim high.

  He glanced over at the bowl on the table and scoffed. “After a bowl of cereal big enough to feed four people?”

  I knew I should have cleaned that up sooner. “But if I eat my dinner? If I’m a good boy?”

  Ha, got him.

  He liked that.

  If boyfriend Gordon was indulgent, then Daddy Gordon was a pushover. I didn’t think I could love him more, but seeing this side of him made me want to curl up on his lap and spend all night there.

  He hugged me tight. “If you’re a good boy and eat your dinner, especially the vegetables, then you can have a small bowl.”

  How much was a small bowl?

  How many vegetables?

  “Green beans… Daddy?” Hmm, that wasn’t too weird. It was a cuddly word and not one that I associated with my own father. He’d always been Father or Dad in the more casual situations.

  I got another kiss too. “Yes, green beans.”

  Ha, if this was Little, I should’ve figured it out ages ago. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  And I got another kiss.

  A fun dinner… dessert… cuddles… why had I been worried about this?

  It wasn’t what I’d pictured him wanting to add to our relationship, but it wasn’t the most stressful thing he could’ve brought up. He could’ve wanted to take up rock climbing or something weird. This was fun food and attention.

  I had a feeling I should be counting my blessings.

  A midlife crisis usually went a lot weirder than this.

  He hadn’t even brought home a little blond twink secretary.

  “How about we bring your crayons to the table and you can color while I make dinner?” He brought one hand up and stroked my face, then kissed my forehead again.

  “I don’t have a coloring book.” It was the first thing that came to mind, but it probably wasn’t the most grown-up thing to say, so I figured I was doing good at the whole being Little thing.

  “How about we bring some plain paper this time and on Saturday we can go pick some out?” He came up with the solution so quickly I knew he’d already been playing with the idea.

  “Did you want to take me to pick out toys?” I didn’t know if it was big me who was asking or if I was trying to be Little, but it felt like the right question to be asking at that moment, so I just went with it.

  He shrugged, but then gave me a faint nod and a grin. “Possibly.”

  “Oh, what kind of toys?” Did I get to pick out more stuffies?

  He laughed, gues
sing where my mind had gone. “No more stuffed animals.”

  When I pouted, he kissed my forehead. “I might be talked into blocks or more crayons or—”

  “Paints.” I bounced excitedly. “Lots of paints and blocks.”

  I wasn’t a half-bad artist when it came to sketching and drawing. I’d never make a living at it, but I could get out my ideas. Painting was another story altogether. I loved it, but it didn’t love me. That didn’t mean it wasn’t fun… I just wasn’t going to show them to anyone but Daddy.

  ’Cause if I was Little, they didn’t have to look pretty.

  Ha, another point toward this whole Little thing.

  “Deal.” Gordon… Daddy smiled. “Paints, blocks, and coloring books. Now let’s get you some spaghetti so you can have dessert.”

  Yeah, I was starting to like the idea of being Little.

  Chapter Four

  Gordon

  The paint was everywhere except on the dragon. Yellow dotted Loren’s hair and there was some kind of dark green color on his cheeks, but he was having so much fun I couldn’t stop him to clean him up. Seeing the different sides of him was fascinating.

  Grown-up Loren would sketch work projects or practice on things he could see and it was a very deliberate act, but Little-ish Loren threw himself into the paints without seeming to worry about how it looked. It was just delightful enjoyment. He sparkled and smiled like it was the best thing ever.

  But he was definitely not my grown-up boyfriend.

  He’d spent the first half of the week clearly thinking about what I’d asked, but it hadn’t been until I’d walked in on his conversation with Boris that I’d known he was ready to at least dip his toe in the water. Loren only talked to Boris when he’d already made a decision but wanted someone else to blame it on.

  Boris had also been the one to pick the unfortunate orange color for the hall bathroom that we’d repainted within weeks.

  Boris was opinionated and, thankfully, clearly more curious than I’d given him credit for.

  But now I was pretty sure that Boris was encouraging the mess because if I didn’t rein in the creativity soon, the paint was going to be from one end of the kitchen to the other.

  And he’d tried to talk me into letting him paint in the living room.

  But being right about the mess wouldn’t make me right about everything. I still wasn’t sure how fast to take things and how to try out new aspects of the lifestyle. I knew he’d researched at least bits and pieces because he’d made sure to look at some of them when I was around.

  He was so wonderfully subtle.

  But he hadn’t clued me in yet on what he thought about bottles or binkies or anything else. I also wasn’t exactly sure how old he might be when he was Little. The painting said one thing, but his choice in food and movies lately said another. However, considering the fact that this was his first full evening where we were going to be doing little things all night, I thought it was going great.

  We’d watched everything from Disney movies to Scooby-Doo cartoons this week as he’d slowly begun exploring aspects of being Little and he’d begged for nothing but junk food for days… and not the grown-up kind. And because I was clearly a sucker when he looked so cute and called me Daddy, we now had Pop-Tarts and juice boxes in the pantry.

  As well as a few things tucked up at the top of the cabinet just in case he decided to try being Little.

  Dinner was almost ready, so I turned the heat down to simmer so the macaroni and cheese wouldn’t burn before I walked over to the sink. As I dampened a paper towel, he gave a dramatic sigh and a cute pout.

  “Aww, I’m not done yet.” His pout was sweet, but I had a feeling he’d never be done with the picture. He was having too much fun adding shapes and colors to what I thought was supposed to be our backyard.

  “I guess you don’t want mac-n-cheese and cucumbers, then?” We’d had a quick lunch before we’d gone to the store to buy his new toys, and other than a few goldfish crackers, he hadn’t eaten anything else while he’d played with each and every new toy.

  That was clearly a difficult decision.

  He pulled back the pout. “But I can finish it tomorrow?”

  Loren was so earnest and excited I knew I wasn’t really seeing his grown-up side yet. He’d have tried to talk me into getting his way. Little Loren seemed to like whining and bargaining for dessert.

  “Yes, absolutely.” We normally spent Sundays just lounging around the house, but if he wanted to play more, that was fine with me. Especially since it meant he would be relaxing and not working.

  He was doing his best to keep to our agreement of a more reasonable schedule, but other than anime and reading he didn’t have that many hobbies. That lack of other passions had left work being his primary outlet for anything remotely fun. But this seemed to be right up his alley.

  “Kisses, Daddy?” He held out his hands and puckered his lips.

  He might really want a kiss, but there was no way he was hugging me. “Once you’re clean, you can have all the kisses you want.”

  His pout that time was more for fun than actual drama. “But Daddy…”

  I chuckled and looked pointedly at his hands. “Wash first. Kiss second.”

  Loren giggled and wiggled his colorful fingers at me. “Okay, Daddy.”

  He was so cute when he said that. The first few times I could see his brain working, but after that, it seemed to become more natural for him.

  Cleaning up was more work than I’d anticipated.

  Washable paint, my ass.

  When he was as clean as I could get him, I moved his picture to the counter and wiped up the table as best I could. Loren was just giggling the whole time, thoroughly delighted at my grumbles and the faces he seemed to think I was making.

  By the time I was satisfied with the table, dinner had cooled off enough to eat and the room smelled wonderful. We’d never eaten this much comfort food before, but if Little Loren liked mac-n-cheese and nuggets then I’d figure out a way to make it work.

  No matter how things turned out, I was just grateful he’d tried it and hadn’t closed himself off from the possibility. From the moment Sawyer had finally opened up and talked about the puppy play he and his partners were into, I’d realized there were other forms of BDSM I hadn’t even considered for Loren.

  I knew he’d never be happy as what I thought of as a more traditional sub, but during my conversations with Sawyer, I’d come to realize that some of the more playful options like littles would be the perfect way for Loren to explore being submissive. He was so close to being Little already, I kept asking myself why I hadn’t seen it before.

  The only thing I could come up with was that we just got so used to the people around us that we didn’t think about what their likes and needs really added up to. But as I grabbed the divided tray I’d bought earlier in the week as a surprise, I hoped Sawyer knew how grateful I was that he’d opened up.

  Loren’s eyes widened as I split up his food between the compartments, but he’d always had a seemingly unconscious habit of separating the food on his plate, so I had a feeling this would appeal to him. The look on his face said I was right.

  As I set the tray down in front of him, he analyzed everything and smiled. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome.” My plate was the same as always, but I liked seeing the contrast. It made his Little side even more obvious and there was just something cute about it.

  Eating each section one at a time, he ate his meal carefully, but even the way he held his fork changed. It didn’t seem to be a conscious decision on his part, but his hand was wrapped around the length of it as if he were younger again.

  We ate in silence mostly because he seemed too wrapped up in his meal, but as he started to slow, he glanced over at his picture. I wasn’t sure what was going through his head, but I smiled. “You did a great job on your picture.”

  He turned to me, beaming. “I like painting.”

  Loren ha
d always complained that he wasn’t a good painter, so I’d never thought to buy him any. But it looked like just because he wasn’t accomplished with it didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it. It made me wonder what other things he’d passed off as not being good at that he really enjoyed.

  I had a feeling his parents were somehow to blame for it.

  We’d only had dinner with them a handful of times because Loren found them to be so stressful, but I remembered hearing his father spout off something about anything worth doing was worth doing your best. While I admired the idea, I had a feeling that he’d taken that to an extreme.

  Some things in life were just supposed to be fun and bring us joy.

  It was time for my boy to take that to heart.

  He’d come a long way since we’d first met, but with the damage his parents had done to his sense of self, he would always need more attention than most people would understand. Hell, even his friend Dean teased him about it.

  It was never in a mean way, but he let Loren keep saying things like he was too needy or too selfish without putting his foot down. As Loren’s friend, I thought he should make more of an effort to make Loren see there wasn’t anything wrong with needing attention from the person who loved him.

  “I saw a smock online that goes over your clothes to keep you cleaner when you paint. I think I’m going to order that later.” When he smiled deviously, I shook my head teasingly. “Maybe they can even overnight it.”

  Loren giggled. “I was making it beautiful for you.”

  Leaning around the table, I stretched out and kissed his cheek. “You did a wonderful job.”

  His gaze danced between the picture on the counter and back to me. “And when it’s done, you’ll put it on the fridge?”

  “Of course.” His excitement was contagious but made me question how many pictures had earned the right to go on the fridge when he was little. “I’m going to need you to paint me a lot of pictures so we can decorate the kitchen.”