A few days ago, I came across an article that detailed which sexual kinks people were into based on their zodiac signs. As I looked at all the options, I couldn’t help but realize that dirty talk was, in fact, my Gemini ex’s favorite thing to do in bed. When I look back at all the sexual encounters that we had, one sticks out to me the most. Let’s just say that this experience is the reason why I can’t use the word “daddy” ever again.
After one of our usual Starbucks dates, my ex and I retreated to the comfort of my bedroom. It was typical for us to cuddle, which would later escalate to dirty talk and then actual sex. Usually, we could be pretty vocal, as my parents worked all day and I typically had the house to myself. As we cuddled, I jokingly mentioned how he was like a dad because he was older and hairier than me. He, in return, lightly shoved me and started to call me his boy. Perhaps this moment was what sparked my interest in dating guys who were much older than me, as it was turning me on slightly to get into this role playing act.
Things started to get hot and heavy, and he kept saying how he had to teach his boy a lesson. I tend to be silent and submissive in bed, so I let him take control. I was so into the moment that the next words to leave his mouth stopped me in my tracks.
“Call me daddy.”
Yeah, we had danced around the term earlier in the romp, but to hear him actually ask me to call him that was a slight boner-killer since I still called my dad by that term as a 16-year-old. Not to mention that my ex was only a year older than me, so it was just odd to hear him have such a desire.
“Be a good boy,” he motioned me against the wall.
As much as I liked spanking in sex, the wall sex that ensued afterwards definitely killed the rest of my half-flaccid erection. It was cold and just uncomfortable having my body thrusted against wood paneling repeatedly. Also, he still wasn’t relenting in having me refer to him as daddy.
As we moved back onto my bed, I figured that I might as well just go along with what he wanted. I needed a good time after having a week without sex, so I decided that maybe I could find a way to make myself like this situation.
“I’ve been a bad boy, daddy.”
I struggled not to laugh as I said that, but it seemed to turn him on exponentially. And yet, as I felt myself being penetrated, I couldn’t help but use that word again. I was in the role completely, and finally we were in sync again.
As we switched positions to one where I could feel his entire length inside of me, I think it drove us both over the edge. I found myself literally screaming the word “daddy,” as we both got closer to climax. After we both finished, I couldn’t help but feel awkward at the thought of calling my boyfriend at the time a daddy. After all, I usually paid for our dates, too.
As we cleaned ourselves up, I couldn’t help but laugh at what had just happened. I tend to do that when I’m nervous.
“I don’t really like being called, daddy,” he suddenly blurted out.
As I pictured myself slapping myself against the forehead, I was also grateful that we wouldn’t have to do this again. We began the walk up the stairs to my living room, and I finally felt at peace again. That is until I saw my dad sitting in his chair upstairs, which just so happened to be right above my bedroom.
“Hi, daddy,” I said.
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