"My Dear, Old Dad," Chapter 11
by c.w. cobblestone
Chapter 11
With the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat, I played with my napkin and watched Madison enjoy the spaghetti I’d made.
My wife looked at me and frowned.
“Something wrong, Donny?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just …” I drew a breath and went for it: “Well, I was just thinking … you know, our anniversary’s coming up.”
“Oh, wow, it’s May already, isn’t it? I’ve been so damned busy, I didn’t even notice.”
“Yeah, the 15^(th) is Friday.” I poked at my noodles with my fork. “And … um … well, I was hoping maybe we could … um, you know, go out somewhere to celebrate? Just us? It’s our fifth; that’s kind of a big one.”
“Ugh, I don’t know, Donny. You know how your dad can be — he’s so possessive.”
“Why did you smile when you said that, Maddy?”
“Said what?”
“That my dad’s possessive. You smiled.”
“So?”
“Well, I don’t understand; you always said you hated possessive men.”
“Jez, I dunno, Donny. Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting, honey. I’m just saying—”
“Look, your dad is different, okay? I don’t really understand it, either. I never wanted any man having control over me, thanks to the way my dad was.”
“Yeah, no crap — you’d get mad at me for trying to pick a different restaurant.”
“That’s because—” Madison stopped mid-sentence and twirled spaghetti with her fork.
“Because what?”
“Ugh, because you’re nothing like your dad, okay? No offense, Donny, but your dad’s from the old school — when men weren’t afraid to be men. There’s something really sexy about a man who isn’t trying to please me all the time.”
“You always said you liked being pampered.”
“I did. And I do. By you. But with Richard … like I said, he’s different. I can really let my guard down with him, like I never could with anyone else.”
Pretending to scratch my eye, I wiped away a tear. “What about me, honey? You can’t let your guard down with me?”
“I mean, yeah, I can. Of course, I can. That’s not really what I meant, Donny. With you, it’s like … well, it’s like you don’t really count. You know?”
“I don’t count?” My voice cracked.
“Ugh, don’t be so whiny, Donny. Quit reading into everything I say. I meant you’re safe. Yeah, I can let my guard down around you, because you’re not anyone I have to worry about in the first place. You know?”
I bowed my head. “Dad used to always ask me how someone like me was able to land a woman like you. Along with making lewd comments about you.”
Madison lit up. “He did? Like what?”
“I don’t know. He said you had a nice ass one time.”
“Ooh, really?”
“Yeah. I think he was just trying to get under my skin. Like he always does.”
“Oh, you’re saying I don’t have a nice ass?”
“No, no, Maddy, of course you do. You have a great ass.”
“What else did he say? About me?”
“Jeez, I don’t know. He’d always have some comment; mostly about how pretty you were, and wondering why you married a ‘girly-man’ like me. Now, I know why you married me: I’m safe.”
“Well, is that such a bad thing, Donny? You give me a lot.”
“Not enough, apparently.”
“Listen, Donny, damn it, don’t even start down that road. Okay? You won’t like where it leads, I promise you.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I just get jealous sometimes. We can’t even hang a damned wedding picture in our own house, for chrissakes.”
Madison giggled and looked at the spot behind the television where our wedding photo had hung before Dad made me take it down. “I’m not sure I like that picture up there; I thought it would look good, but after seeing it up there, I think I want something else.”
I huffed and asked an academic question, more to whine than anything else, since I already knew the answer: “Why the hell can’t we put the old one back up?”
“Pfft. You know why. Richard doesn’t like it.” She sighed dreamily. “He wants me all to himself.”
“Well, can you please ask him if we can go out Friday for our anniversary? Can I have just one night, at least?”
“Ugh, I don’t know, Donny. I really don’t want to ask him that, to tell you the truth.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t. I know he won’t like it.”
“Well, is it okay if I ask him?”
“You sure you want to do that? If you make him mad, that switch is sitting right under the coffee table.”
“Jeez, I’m gonna get punished for asking if I can take you out for our damned anniversary?”
“I don’t know, Donny. If you want to risk it, go ahead. It might make him mad though; you know how he is.”
I gritted my teeth. “Yeah. Especially when it comes to you.”
“Hee-hee, I know it annoys you, Mildred, but it’s sexy as hell how he hogs me all to himself. I love that he made you take our wedding picture off the wall, if you want the truth. And I really love how you’re not allowed to lick me unless he says so.”
She smiled. “How long until you’re off booty-duty?”
“Fourteen more days, Mistress.”
“Well, even after it’s over, I still want you licking my butt when I go to sleep when he’s not over. I love that.”
“Thank you, Mistress. I’m glad you like it. I … I like doing it for you.”
My wife stretched languidly. “I’m such a lucky girl. I’ve got two guys in my life: Mildred, my little butt-licker, and Big, Bad Richard Prescott, Mister Manly. My strong lion, and my loyal little lamb — what more could a girl ask for?”
“Um … thank you, Mistress.”
Madison stared at me for a few seconds. “Richard’s kind of unfair to you sometimes, isn’t he?”
“Um, yes, Mistress.”
“That’s because he cares about you.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Well, I’m telling you, he does. He’s getting you to open up, and be your true self. There’s a reason you always wanted to talk to me about having sex with other guys, Donny. Normal men don’t think like that. In fact, they want the exact opposite — to keep other men away from their women. Like Richard; I love the fact that he’s so possessive. Can you even imagine him wanting me to have sex with another guy?”
“Um … no, Mistress, I can’t.”
“Well, that kind of possessiveness is … well, sexy is the only word. Primal. Like we’re hardwired for it, or something.”
“Hardwired?”
“Yeah, I was listening to this podcast on the way to work the other day, and the guy was talking about how human males are wired toward hierarchal behavior, like chimpanzees. The dominant male does all the mating, and the submissive ones kind of follow him around, hoping he’ll let them in on some of the action. This guy was saying the reason humans stopped acting like that was to build society; the alpha males started doing things like giving out land and other favors to some of the lesser males, which would help them attract women, too. That way, the alpha built up loyalty among the men, and society was able to function, with the alphas at the top. It kind of makes sense; modern society has things kind of screwed up, you know? Men are supposed to act like men. And they’ve stopped doing that. Most of them have, anyway. But not your dad.”
“Boy, Maddy, this sure doesn’t sound like the same woman who said she hated toxic masculinity, and guys ‘waving their dicks around trying to prove something’ as you always put it.”
My wife smirked. “Well, I guess that was before I knew what it was like to be with a real man, Mildred. Now shut up and let’s go to bed; I’m getting tired.”
I followed my wife to the bedroom, picking up her blouse, which she dropped on the floor as she walked.
“I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow,” she said over her shoulder. “Are my red pumps shined?”
“Yes, Mistress, they’re all ready. They’re in the closet.”
“Good.” Madison pulled back the covers and slipped into bed. “I’m finalizing a deal; I’m wearing the red suit.”
“You always say that one brings you luck, Mistress,” I said as I settled in behind her and scooted downward until I was cheek-to-cheek with the back of her white lace panties.
“It does.” She wiggled her ass. “Take my underwear off.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
As soon as I pulled off her panties, Madison surprised me by rolling over, swinging her leg above my head and spreading her thighs so that my nose was an inch from her open pussy.
I gasped. “Brr, brr, brrgh …”
“Look at it, Mildred. Whose pussy is that?”
I blinked. “Um … Richard’s.”
“Say ‘my dad’s.’ Say ‘this is my dad’s pussy.’”
“Um, uh, this is … my dad’s pussy.”
“Say ‘this is my dad’s pussy and I’m not allowed to lick it without his permission.’”
“This is my dad’s pussy and I’m not … I’m not allowed to lick it without his … his permission.”
She fingered herself. “Mm … this all feels so naughty. Doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Most people would be shocked, but it is what it is. It’s working for us, huh?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Madison moved her leg and adjusted herself into the fetal position. Reaching one hand behind her back, she patted her ass cheek three times. “Okay, Donny, get that tongue in there — and keep it there until I fall asleep.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good night, Mildred. Thanks for being such a good little sissy maid for me.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I paused. “Um … Mistress?”
“Yes, little lamb?”
“Um … you said it’s okay if I ask my dad about … um, Friday, right?”
She heaved a hard sigh, causing her butt to rise and fall, the bottom cheek nudging my nose on the way down.
“If you want to, go ahead. But if he gets mad and uses the switch on you, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” She yawned. “Now shut up and lick.”
^^^^^^^^^^
Although I’d just served sockeye salmon for dinner the previous week, I swung by the fish market after work anyway, since I knew it was Dad’s favorite.
I had one plan in mind for Wednesday evening: Everything was to revolve around my stepfather. I knew he’d be coming home with Madison because they’d discussed him spending the night so they could drive to an early meeting together Thursday morning. I wanted to make everything perfect.
Once I’d properly buttered him up, I would ask him for permission to take my wife out for our anniversary — even though I knew there was a strong chance he might take the opportunity to rub my face in the dirt yet again, like he’d done my entire life.
There was the distinct possibility Dad would make me stay home and do something degrading like hand-wash his underwear while he took my wife out on our anniversary.
And, as Madison had warned, there was always the prospect of him getting mad and blistering my ass for having the gall to ask him if I could take my wife out on a date.
Still, I was desperately clinging to any vestige of my former relationship with my beloved spouse, and wanted badly to have one lousy dinner with her at a nice restaurant to celebrate our anniversary. I didn’t think it was too much to ask, given all that I had sacrificed.
After weighing the pros and cons, I decided it was worth the risk, and that my best bet would be to do some major ass-kissing before popping the question.
So, sockeye salmon it was, along with more of Dad’s favorites like garlic potatoes and creamed corn.
Whether my stepfather gave me permission to take Madison out or not, I was bound and determined to make our anniversary special. I had ordered a custom-made plaque engraved in fancy letters, “To Maddy, the light of my life, I will always love you. Happy 5^(th) Anniversary.” I’d paid for rush delivery, and was excited to see if it looked as good in person as it did online.
After scurrying to get dinner on the table, I contemplated putting on my maid’s dress, since I knew it would please my dad. But I decided against it; I didn’t want to appear too eager, and if I were to greet them in drag, I thought it might seem over-the-top, since I never initiated that.
Madison and my dad came home a little later than usual, and I was Johnny-on-the-spot with her usual post-work glass of ice water and his glass of beer.
“Goddamn construction,” Dad grumbled ass I handed over his beer.
“They just did that portion of freeway last year.” Madison took the glass of water from me and sighed. “Ugh, I need one of your foot rubs, Donny.”
“Um, before or after dinner? I … I made sockeye salmon.”
Dad smiled and rubbed his stomach. “Mm, that’s just what the doctor ordered after the day we had.”
“I’m hungry now, but my feet hurt.” Maddy waved toward the dining room. “Bring the plates in here; you can rub them while we eat.” She turned to Dad. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Sure, I just want to relax; I’m beat.”
After fetching the plates, I kept my mouth shut and concentrated on my wife’s foot massage while she and my stepfather ate and bitched about work.
“I can’t believe that sonofabitch Torkelson tried to hamstring the Simanski deal,” Madison said with a frown.
“I can.” Dad scoffed. “I’ve been dealing with that asshole for 20 years.”
“Well, let’s see if that little trick I pulled will change his mind.”
“That was a stroke of genius, honey.” Dad leaned over and kissed my wife. “You really are something, you know that?”
“Well, you’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Prescott.”
Their banter made me feel left out as usual, since I had no earthly idea what they were discussing. Apparently Maddy had cooked up some plan to help the firm, but since they weren’t interested in letting me in on it, I remained in the dark as I rubbed my wife’s pretty little feet.
During a lull in their conversation, Madison started to take a bite but held her fork fast. “Didn’t you just make sockeye salmon, like, the other day, Donny?”
“Well, it was last week.”
“I don’t remember you making it,” Dad said.
“You didn’t come over that night.” Madison giggled. “I think I know what he’s doing.”
“What’s that?”
My wife smirked at me before leaning her head on my stepfather’s shoulder. “He wants to ask you if he can take me out Friday night.”
“And why would he want to do that?”
“It’s our anniversary.”
I felt totally betrayed that Madison had tattled about my plans, but I tried not to show it as I continued rubbing her feet. Although I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at Dad, I could feel him leering down at me.
“So … you want to take my woman out? On a date?”
“Um, y-yes, sir, I was going to ask if it was okay.” After an awkward two seconds of stony silence, I added: “I … I didn’t want to seem disrespectful, sir.”
“Well, it kind of is, don’t you think?”
UH-OH! HOW WILL BIG, BAD RICHARD PRESCOTT REACT TO HIS SISSY STEPSON’S REQUEST?
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