Page 8 of Lakeside Little
Watching his face, there was an uncertainty painted across his lips and eyes, both pinched. “I mean, that’s also been pretty obvious, hasn’t it,” he said. “Yeah, I like to age play. If that makes you feel uncomfortable, then you don’t have to help me paint, or whatever, I wasn’t like hitting on you or anything.” He scoffed, but his face went red, unsure of what that meant with the words he was saying.
I shook my head. “I’m not saying this as an attack,” I said. “I’m just curious, because it’s been a while, and if you weren’t hitting on me, that’s fine, I’m pretty awful at reading cues anyway. I come from a family where everyone is always emotionally charged, so, I kinda avoid it.”
“Are you gay?” he asked in the midst of me now unable to stop talking. He stepped closer to me.
“I mean, I’m—”
“It’s just the two of us, you know you can say, right?”
I nodded. “I am gay, but I—”
He reached out and took my hand, his softness stroking at the palm of my hand. “I get it,” he said, gently tapping away at on palm. “It’s difficult to say stuff that the world has tried to ban people from being. It’s why pride is important, it’s why I love being unapologetically me. It’s why—”
Reaching out, I placed a hand at his chin and cheek and within moments, our faces were together, and his lips were on mine. It was warm, sweet, and I was not prepared for all of it. My intentions weren’t to be here for this, they were here to be alone, to recoup, and collect myself before I was forced back into the world.
“I’ll get you a ChapStick as well,” he said.
“Is it that bad?” I asked, licking my lips.
He giggled.
We sat down together in front of the doll house and painted as we got to know each other a little better. I was admitting things I hadn’t even fully been able to admit to myself, I’d claimed to be bisexual, and push the narrative it was a stepping stone to being gay, which is why I never fully came out, even though I’d never been with a single woman in my entire life, I even skipped my own prom so that I didn’t have to go alone or be force to dance with girls.
Jack asked questions that felt freeing to my soul. I was jealous of it, his freedom, and ability to live with so much love in his heart. A love I’d cut myself off from, a global celebration, the pride parties and event, it had all evaded me.
It wasn’t until hours later that we realized just how much time had passed. And it was just as the topic broached onto my experience with submissives and littles, especially since I’d mentioned them.
“Way back, like when I was twenty-five, so—”
“Like last year?” he giggled, it was a tease.
“Like twenty years ago, actually.”
“So, you’re forty-five then?”
“Yes, exactly. And I’m unemployed. I’m not a catch.”
He rolled his eyes. “I think everyone else can make their mind up on who or what is or isn’t a catch, and since I’m the one who put most of the effort into the fishing earlier, I know a catch when I see one.” His eyes unbreaking from their focus on me. I knew he was talking about me, to me, but it didn’t go in.
“Well, my experience with littles and submissives are down to what I know from pen pals,” I said. “I was to write to this guy who played, maybe not quite so openly as you do with your dolls, but he played and one of the things he asked of me asa Daddy or Dominant was to give him structure and reward him or punish him.”
Jack looked away, fidgeting. “Well, what punishments and rewards did you give him?”
Screwing my eyes shut for a second, I could just about recall what it was. “So, it was long distance, right. We met once or twice and was more immersive, you know, but for the time we were writing to each other, I would punish him with—” I cleared my throat. “Cock cagesif he’d stayed up too late or his letter took too long to arrive, and I gave him my underwear through the post as reward, but also just permission for him to pleasure himself.”
“Kinda sounds hot,” he whispered.
I’d already learned Jack was single, and from the kiss, he was clearly open to pursue some form of romantic relationship with me, even if it was something for the duration of my rental here by the lake. This was the universe’s way of telling me to quit wallowing. It was the universe, putting Jack in my path and saying I had to stop denying myself love, even temporary love.
“My style of play is dolls, but my experience with Daddies is minimal,” he added. “It’s something I’ve wanted to play around with, but I also really don’t like being told what to do by anyone.”
“And what if your dolls tell you to do something?” I asked.
He gestured with a hand to the dolls scattered around the cabin. “Some of them have their guest roles cut on the show,” he said. “And others, I do this whole full character assassination of. You should ask Fiona, she’s not here, but she was this gorgeous redhead who was not getting along with the others, to the point I was sure she would snatch all their wigs.”
Fuck, the way he spoke, and delivered the words had a pit of bubbles whoosh around in my stomach. I was crushing hard on him, and that was strange. At my age, to feel this immensecrush like I was back in high school staring holes into the football players who were just ramming into each other.
“Fiona is in prison now,” he said, bringing me back to focusing on him.
