Their hair is shaved along the side of their head but their hair on top is dyed blue with more length. It hangs to the right, almost long enough to cover their ear. They aren't wearing makeup and a silver ring hangs from their septum. Over their long-sleeved button-up shirt, they're wearing a vest. Their jeans are on the baggy side and they have on old Converses with loose laces.
I step towards them until our height difference becomes painfully obvious. They can't look at me but I make them do it anyway. I put my hand under their chin and I lift their gaze. Their face is still cold from the chilly weather outside. I run my fingers through their blue hair and they smile awkwardly. It isn't because the moment is awkward. It's because I know from our talks how they crave intimacy while being uncomfortable when they have it.
If I'm being honest, I'm putting pressure on myself. I like them so much and I don't want them to think I'm uneasy. They aren't the kind of person I usually fool around with. I'm not the norm for them either but we connected through video games and music. We anger bonded talking politics. We even both like sours when it comes to beer. While the bars were closed we got different six-packs from microbreweries and drank them on Zoom together. Their little sarcastic shots that almost go unheard make me laugh. They take a moment to register and then they hit me. It wasn't an instant attraction for me. Probably not for them, either. It was the kind of attraction built over time and when it was obvious it was like a brick wall staring me in the face.
It occurs to me I want to kiss them. I want to feel their lips on my lips so I lean down and close my eyes. Our mouths meet but I think I opened too soon. I think they weren't ready. Then they opened their mouth after I had already closed mine. From here it could go either way. We could spend the rest of our time dancing off beat to one another. I didn't want that for us so I wrapped my arms around them and pulled them into me. Both our mouths open together. Our tongues meet in the space between. They let out a soft moan. Still kissing them, I slide their vest off. They lean back and I unbuttoned their shirt. They asked, "Is it still OK if I call you, Daddy?"
Unbuttoning more buttons, I answer, "Of course it's OK. I've been looking forward to it."
They smile but the smile quickly fades when I ease their shirt off their shoulders. I skim across their collarbone and hook my fingers under their bra strap. They pull away and stare at the floor. I step towards them, "It's OK," I try to reassure. Reaching for their bra strap again they shake their head and turn. With their back to me, they cross their arms over their chest. I wait to see if they say something. When they don't I step closer and press my body into their back. I wrap my arms around their crossed arms.
"If I take off my binder I worry you'll only see me as a girl," they whisper to the wall. "Once they're out you can't go back to a time when they weren't out, ya know?"
I squeeze them into me and take a deep breath. "I never really thought of it like that," I start and pause to think about it some more. With all their experience to the contrary, it must be hard to fathom a cishet man can see them as who they are. All those times they've heard jokes, all those times they've been told to pick a side, maybe it feels like I'm just waiting until I have enough evidence to put them in the box that works for me. "But I get what you're saying," I continue. "The you that I know isn't a woman. I really can't say what will happen if and when I see your chest. Maybe it'll change the way I look at you. But, I'd like to try. I want to be able to look at you as see you see yourself no matter what you're wearing or not wearing."
They nestle their head into my arm, "That's incredibly sweet of you. But it's still hard for me."
Pressing my lips into the top of their head, I answer, "You can leave it on or take it off, of course. I just want you to know either way I don't see you as a girl."
They kiss my forearm before turning to face me. My chin rests on their forehead and They release a long lung deflating breath. They're as close as they can be. I feel them swallow when they reach behind their back to unhook their binder. They slip one strap off and then then the other. Their binder is held in place between our two bodies. When they step back it falls to the floor.
Before I look at what they revealed I focus on their eyes. They sparkle with tears welling up in them. I don't stop staring into them when I say, "It isn't going to change a thing." After a deep breath, my gaze falls to their chest. The difference between what hid under the binder and what emerged was almost unbelievable. At first, I find myself taken aback by the shape, size, and roundness of them. Their nipples are soft, small, and pink. As my focus draws outward I take more of them in. On their right arm, they have a sleeve tattoo that starts at their elbow and goes over their shoulder coming down across their upper-chest. It's of this seascape filled with coral and fish and a massive sea turtle. I had seen pictures of it online but in person, I got so much more of the detail. Hidden in the coral was an octopus. Not far was the head of an eel poking out of a hole. There were anemones and in the distance a hammerhead shark.
I'm still staring when they cross their arms over their chest.
"I'm sorry," I tell them, returning my focus to their eyes. "I wanted to take you in. I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious. You know what I see when I look at you?"
They shrug.
"I see the gamer. I see the fantasy and Sci-Fi lover. I see the person who relates to animals better than they do people."
I tug on them and pull them close until their crossed arms are pressed against me. I touch their chin again and make them look at me. "I think you're the sexy person I like whether you're naked or you're covered head-to-toe in clothing. I think you're sexy like this or flat-chested. None of it changes the person I hung out with through half the lockdown."
They sigh and rest their head on my shoulder. Their arms fall by their side, "Thank you, Daddy," they whisper
I cradle their head closer to me and we kind of sway back and forth for a while. Eventually, we continue kissing. This time our lips part together. Our tongues glide back and forth between each other's mouths.
I pull away and whisper, "The more we kiss the more I feel the urge to hurt you. Is it still OK that I do that?"
They smile and stand up on their toes. They grab the back of my neck and tug me into their lips. After a brief kiss, I retreat again and grin. "I take that to mean you like the idea of Daddy hurting you?"
They nod and smile. Our mouths collide and open wide. Their hand slips between my legs and massages the bulge in my jeans. I break away a little surprised that they took that initiative. "Hey!" I wave my finger in front of their face. "Daddy did not give you permission to touch him like that."
They pout and hang their head, "I'm sorry, Daddy."
I let out a disproving sigh. Taking them in my hand I guide them over to the bed. I sit down and pat my lap.
They shake their head, "no."
Squinting and furrowing my brow, I pat my lap once more but with extra force. They protest, "But, Daddy!" as they slink their way over my knee.
"You need to learn how to behave," I tell them in a patronizing voice as I push their jeans down around their knees. I run my hand over their soft round ass admiring their milky skin. The tendons in my fingers tighten as I think about how it's going reverberate when I smack them as hard as I can. My tone normalizes, "I want to check back in and make sure you still want to get spanked."
"I do, Daddy."
"If it feels like it is getting to be too much tell me, OK?"
"I will but I've been thinking about this for a while. I want it hard."
My Daddy-tone returns, "Are you allowed to touch your me whenever you want?"
"No, Sir," They answer.
