I met a friend for happy hour and had two vodka sodas on board even before I headed out to meet Mr. 47-year-old-who-doesn't-want-more-children for our second date. We met up at Alberta Street Pub with a couple of his friends, where I had a third vodka soda *just in case I wasn't feeling the first two*, and I quickly became drunker than anyone should reasonably be on a Sunday night. An hour or two later, after finishing drink #4 (a glass of red wine), we had sex on my NOTair mattress. It was nice. He left. I fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning with a raging headache and called in sick to work, but it felt less like a bad decision hangover and more like a "Welcome to dating in Portland!" hangover, an oddly reassuring omen that this city might work out. He doesn't want more kids, but so what? He has a career, owns a home, and isn't in an open relationship looking to add me on as a mistress. Seems pretty normal to me!
Then I got the following text late on a Saturday night:
"I was just thinking that I'm your daddy now and if you do something bad I'll just pin you down and fuck you good."
How could I have been so stupid as to overestimate the level of normalcy of a Pacific Northwest man in his late 40s?!?
Moreover, how should I respond?!?
I decided that the least awkward course of action was to play along, and I responded with the kinkiest text I could muster that fell along daddy-daughter lines: "I could use some adult guidance."
"You seem to be a bit of a handful," he wrote back.
"I think you can handle me just fine ;-)"
And with that, the nature of our relationship appeared to be established. The next time we had sex, aided by a glass of wine, I dug as deep as possible into the depths of my ability to talk dirty and called a partner "daddy" for the first time. I tried not to overanalyze it because it's just a word, and words are better than anal. As far as kinks go, this one seemed relatively harmless.
The real problem came after sex, when we went out to eat, because I had to talk with my newfound "daddy" about a variety of topics- science, travel, family, finance- while trying to ignore the sexual power dynamic I'd played into just moments before. I paid for dinner, mostly to prove my independence and make a financial "you don't own me" statement. I wasn't sure where I stood with him, exactly. "Baby girl" or woman? Sex kitten or legitimate date? Am I around to make him feel younger?
Does it matter, as long as two people are having fun?
I woke up the next morning with a raging headache and called in sick to work, but it felt less like a bad decision hangover and more like a "Welcome to dating in Portland!" hangover, an oddly reassuring omen that this city might work out. He doesn't want more kids, but so what? He has a career, owns a home, and isn't in an open relationship looking to add me on as a mistress. Seems pretty normal to me!
Then I got the following text late on a Saturday night:
"I was just thinking that I'm your daddy now and if you do something bad I'll just pin you down and fuck you good."
How could I have been so stupid as to overestimate the level of normalcy of a Pacific Northwest man in his late 40s?!?
Moreover, how should I respond?!?
I decided that the least awkward course of action was to play along, and I responded with the kinkiest text I could muster that fell along daddy-daughter lines: "I could use some adult guidance."
"You seem to be a bit of a handful," he wrote back.
"I think you can handle me just fine ;-)"
And with that, the nature of our relationship appeared to be established. The next time we had sex, aided by a glass of wine, I dug as deep as possible into the depths of my ability to talk dirty and called a partner "daddy" for the first time. I tried not to overanalyze it because it's just a word, and words are better than anal. As far as kinks go, this one seemed relatively harmless.
The real problem came after sex, when we went out to eat, because I had to talk with my newfound "daddy" about a variety of topics- science, travel, family, finance- while trying to ignore the sexual power dynamic I'd played into just moments before. I paid for dinner, mostly to prove my independence and make a financial "you don't own me" statement. I wasn't sure where I stood with him, exactly. "Baby girl" or woman? Sex kitten or legitimate date? Am I around to make him feel younger?
Does it matter, as long as two people are having fun?
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