Leo smirked. “Do you usually think about other stuff when you have sex?”
“Yeah, don’t you?”
He busted up laughing. “No. Why do you think Sam and I fuck all the time? It’s like fire with him. Every single time. He may not be your cup of tea, and god knows his friends are obnoxious, but he’s it for me. I don’t ever want anyone else.”
That was a big statement to make at twenty-five, but he had been with Sam for almost four years, and even though it wasn’t the kind of relationship I wanted, it was obvious Sam made Leo happy.
“We’re meeting on Saturday,” I said. “Tattooed_Daddy and me.”
Maybe this Saturday would be the beginning of something real, like what Leo had with Sam. Maybe two years from now Leo and I would be opening the coffee shop, and I’d say those same words: He’s it for me. I don’t ever want anyone else.
It was hard to believe something like that was even possible, but after last night, I wanted it to be.
“We’re having dinner together at Twisted Sisters. His suggestion. Pretty cool, right?”
While Red Canyon was mostly devoid of queer men, it was positively teeming with queer women. What they say about lesbians loving to camp and hike is one hundred percent true. Twisted sisters was owned by lesbians who had been good friends with my mom before she got sick.
Leo narrowed his eyes. “How long has Tattooed_Daddy lived here, Sanders?”
Twisted Sisters was one of those places the locals liked as much as the tourists. While their menu was expensive to accommodate the high housing prices in Red Canyon, their food was high quality and interesting.
“Just a few months. He came here from Chicago, remember?”
Leo took the drive-through mic from its hook on the wall. “Where is Briggs from?”
“I’m not sure.”
But it made me wonder… How many people had moved to Red Canyon this year? And how many of them were attractive middle-aged men?
“Do you think Tattooed_Daddy could be Briggs?” I asked.
“Maybe. It was just a thought.”
The chances of Tattooed_Daddy being the same guy I’d crushed on for the last month were pretty slim. Besides, Briggs didn’t seem like the kind of guy to get a tattoo. He was too straitlaced.
Whoever Tattooed_Daddy was, I’d be just as attracted to him as I was to Briggs. I hoped he would be attracted to me.
He’d told me he thought I was beautiful. He’d only seen my chest, but at least he knew I was shaped like a spaghetti noodle. That was a start.
“I need to go to the bathroom really fast before we open,” I said, rushing into the employee bathroom in the back and shutting the door.
Several of the guys I’d had sex with before had been pretty interested in my ass. It wasn’t a great ass, really. Like my nipple, it had random freckles, and I was pretty sure the right cheek was bigger than the left cheek, but after last night, I wanted to show Tattooed_Daddy a part of me.
After what we shared last night, I knew he’d accept me.
I slipped my pants and underwear down, then twisted my body so my phone was poised over my backside to get the best angle. It took a few tries, but I finally got a photo that didn’t show too many of my freckles.
I was nearly out of my mind with nerves as I texted Tattooed_Daddy the photo with the words: Thanks for last night.
It was definitely bolder than anything I’d done with him, and it felt good. I felt brave.
I pulled up my pants and left the bathroom, hoping that when Tattooed_Daddy woke up, he’d like what he saw.
At seven o’clock, I finally got an answer: Oh, sweetheart. You are beautiful. What a nice surprise to wake up to.
It made me smile from ear to ear, even during the morning rush.
Fifteen minutes later, he sent me a photo with the message: Look at how much your photo excited me. The photo was of him lying in bed, naked, his cock thick and hard. It was hard to gauge size with an image like that, but it seemed big. His body was older and not like mine at all. His thick thighs were muscled, and his hips and stomach were all bulges and ridges. He seemed so rugged, so traditionally masculine, that I felt a little intimidated. I had no idea how to respond to an image like that.
He was perfect. Even though I shouldn’t be surprised, I couldn’t help it. What would I have to offer a man like that?
It took me forty minutes to think up a response: Wow.
I knew I should tell him I thought he was handsome, but I didn’t know how to say it without revealing how overwhelmed I was by him. And besides, he wasn’t just handsome. That didn’t even begin to describe it. He was a wet dream. He couldn’t be real. That’s how amazing his photo was.
My hands were almost shaking as I waited for a response. It came less than a minute later. It was a good thing I was working the drive-through line today because I shamelessly pulled out my phone in the middle of making an Americano.
Tattooed_Daddy: I can’t wait to meet you, baby. How are you feeling this morning?
How did I answer that honestly? I was nervous out of my mind, and I couldn’t think straight.
Awkward_and_Adorable: Your really attractive
Awkward_and_Adorable: Really really attractive
I handed over the Americano to the customer, and my phone buzzed again.
Tattooed_Daddy: I’m glad you think so. If you’d like, I could send you another photo. One of my face? Or another part of my body. Is there anything else you’d like to see?
I slid my phone back into my pocket before responding. If he sent me another photo, would he expect me to send him another one too? What would I take a picture of? My gangly legs? My dick wasn’t impressive like his, and it would take time to get it hard anyway. Then I’d have to deal with an erection at work. There was also my face, but what if he was someone like Briggs—someone who knew me? And what if he was disappointed and didn’t message me back?
How did I tell him I was too nervous to send him another photo? I didn’t want him to think I’d disliked his picture.
After I made a few more drinks, I got out my phone again.
Awkward_and_Adorable: Your hands
My own hands were fine. If he asked to see a photo of them, I didn’t think they’d put him off. And I really wanted to see his, wanted to imagine him touching me the way he’d talked about touching me last night.
I forced myself to work for another fifteen minutes before I checked my phone for messages. It was nine in the morning, and the rush was almost over. When I got my phone out again, there was hardly anyone in the shop besides Leo and me.
Tattooed_Daddy had sent me a photo. His hands were thick and veined with hair along the wrists. They were probably warm and strong. I imagined lacing my fingers through his and walking down the street. I imagined how his hand would look wrapped around my cock.
I thought about his hands as I made coffee for the next few hours. I thought about them when I went home for a break before returning to close the shop. Leo and I often worked a split shift on Fridays when we wanted to party at the shop after closing. The walls of both our apartments were thin, so we could have a lot more fun mixing drinks and blasting music at The Little Bean.
At around noon, I took a picture of my own hands, and sent them to him. No other response, just the image of my hands.
He messaged back immediately.
Tattooed_Daddy: You’re beautiful.