Smut Sunday: Father’s Day (#fantasy #ageplay #SmutSunday)

Welome to another week of Smut Sunday, the brainchild of the irrepressible Ms. Victoria Blisse.

Today is Father’s Day in the U.S., and maybe elsewhere too. I thought I’d like to share some smutty bit involving some character who’s a father. However, I came to conclusion that none of my male characters have ever had kids (which shows a certain lack of diversity, doesn’t it?)

However, I realized that I do have some age-play erotic scenes in my novel Incognito. Miranda, the heroine in that book, is frigid when she’s with someone who cares for her. On the other hand, she’s an insatiable sexual adventuress when it comes to doing things with strangers.

In this particular case, she discovers that her roommate Lucy has been hanging out in a fetish chat room, and that she has made contact with a guy who calls himself Big Daddy. In the meantime, Lucy has fallen in love and is off in Paris. Miranda takes a call from Big Daddy, and on the spur of the moment, decides to impersonate Lucy.

When you’re done with my smutty excerpt, head back to the Smut Sunday page for more outrageous fun.

And don’t forget to be good to your Dad—today and every day!

All eyes were on her when she walked into the bar at eight sharp. She had raided Lucy’s closet again, and the effect was startling. She wore a plaid kilt that would have been short on her petite apartment-mate, and a plain white blouse with a Peter Pan collar. Her long legs were bare down to her white ankle socks and patent leather flats. She had parted her hair in the center and gathered it into two braids, tied with red bows.

In these conservative surroundings, among the hunting prints and the leather upholstery, she knew that she looked bizarre, bizarre but sexy. It felt like Halloween. After a few moments, the eyes turned politely away. A marketing gimmick, they thought, or perhaps some twisted young heiress. They returned to their martinis and their gossip.

Somehow, she recognized Big Daddy immediately. He was a handsome man of about fifty with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He sat in a corner, one knee over the other, swirling brandy in a snifter and watching the door. Their eyes locked across the room. She felt pulled to his corner by some type of magnetism.

He rose as she approached, offering his hand. “Lucy, my dear,” he said warmly. “You’re right on time.”

Miranda felt shy and tongue-tied, but fortunately he carried the conversation. “Please, sit down.” He gestured at the cocktail waitress. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Red wine, please.”

Big Daddy looked at her sternly. “Now, don’t be naughty, Lucy. You know that you‘re too young to drink wine.” He turned to the waitress. “A Shirley Temple for my little friend here.” The waitress smirked at Miranda and disappeared.

Miranda desperately wanted some alcohol, to dull the edge of her nervousness and help her to relax. When the fruity drink arrived, the waitress served it with a flourish and a wink. Taking a sip, Miranda thought she detected a hint of vodka under the grenadine and soda. She mentally thanked the saucy young woman.

Big Daddy was staring at her. She found that she liked it. “You look delightful, my dear,” he said at last. She glowed at his approval. “Perfect in every respect. I do expect that I will have the chance to examine you more closely when we go upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Miranda’s voice was almost a squeak.

“I took the liberty of reserving a room for us, where we can be more—private. Of course, if you are not comfortable being alone with me, I will quite understand.”

Strangely, Miranda found that she trusted him. He seemed gentle and courteous, if somewhat authoritarian. His melodious voice was soothing, almost hypnotic. “No,” she said finally, “I think that I would like to be alone with you.”

She wondered what Lucy had told this man, what fantasies they had shared on-line before setting up this meeting. She had to know—needed to be prepared.

“Big Daddy…”

“Yes, Lucy.”

“Remind me, what did I say in the chat room? Sometimes I have a hard time remembering.”

He smiled indulgently. “You told me that you wanted to be my little girl. That you wanted me to spank you if you were bad. That you had nasty thoughts and feelings, and knew that you needed to be punished for them.”

“And what did you tell me?”

“That I had just the kind of firm hand to keep you in line.”

[Warning: things get a lot smuttier after this point. But given this is Father's Day, I thought I should keep the post PG!]