Heather And I

Thoughts on a cruel world

Not only am I old enough to legally fuck a woman half my age, I’m so old that I feel a moral obligation.

Besides the concave and convex thing, you might ask yourself what a twenty-four-year-old girl and I have in common. And the answer is our essential humanity, you fucking prude. We’re both loving, feeling, thinking beings aching for touch in an uncaring universe.

Also, we both think it’s hot when she calls me Daddy.

To clarify, she’s not calling me Daddy in some generic kink way. It’s not an old jazz song reference or even some newer Lana Del Rey bullshit. No, Heather calls me Daddy because we like to pretend I’m her dad.

Now, lest you think we’re both consenting adults roleplaying in a morally corrupt but ultimately ethical way, I should tell you that we also told the bartender I was her dad. And the hostess at the front door.

After all, it would be pretty fucking creepy for her to be out celebrating her sweet sixteen with some guy who isn’t her dad.

Some of you might still think, hey, no harm, no foul, right? It’s not like the servers know we’re fucking, so what does it matter? We’re not technically slapping them in the face with our kink, so what’s the big deal?