Page 25 of Rowan's Renewal
But wow is it weird to feel so intensely about him so soon. Not just because of the kink, but because he is everything I’ve wanted in a partner. Intelligent, kind, communicative, sweet…he ticks all of those boxes and then some. We like the same foods, happily watch the same kind of TV shows, and even though he was adamant that he was a homebody, Rowan has been just as interested in exploring during this vacation as I am.
We seem compatible in so many ways, and I am becoming increasingly invested in seeing him discover himself, too.
And that’s what he’s doing. Now that he’s not as afraid of having to hide his condition, or of having to compensate for it, he’s living life outside of the confines of the nearest bathroom. His confidence in himself seems to be growing by the minute, and it fills me with pride.
“Daddy,” he murmurs, checking over his shoulders to make sure we’re alone on our beach walk, “can we go back to the room?”
The sand between my toes is gritty and clinging to me, seeing as we are walking barefoot along the hard packed sand where the waves are drifting in over our skin, having broken a handful of feet away and carried forward with the momentum of the tide. The water slowly leeches back to whence it came, only to repeat the process again and again, with a dull roaring sound with every rush and crash of a wave. I find it relaxing in the blazing heat of the afternoon, living for the sea breezes accompanying the waves.
“Sure, baby. Getting too hot?”
Rowan’s skin is a mild pink color, even though we have been applying sunscreen religiously. Sweat rolls down his temples and gathers at the roots of his salt and pepper streaked hair. He bites his lip and nods.
“And I need a change.”
He’s gotten so good about asking when he needs help, about not squirming away in embarrassment when his body does what it is wont to do. The lack of shame now seems miles apart from the panicked man in that restaurant bathroom stall.
It’s mindboggling to think that it has only been three days, but I’m not naïve enough to believe it will always be this easy for him. Returning to his real life is going to be a challenge.
I squeeze his hand and smile. “Good boy,” I praise, delighting in the way he fights a pleased, coy little smile, “thank you for telling me.”
We turn on the spot and meander back over the sand, discussing dinner plans along the way. Proving that he’s in tune with my own thought process, Rowan eventually asks, “Do you think it will feel this easy when we’re back home?”
“Probably not,” I answer honestly. “Not with having to work around our jobs. But,” I hasten to add, “I think our dynamic is pretty solid.”
“Me too,” he admits, then scrunches his nose. “I’m kind of used to not panicking about” —a vague gesture encompasses his crotch area— “y’know. Even just knowing that you’ll help get me all cleaned up and…well, I won’t have that once I’m back in the office. It will be back to setting myself alarms and watching my fluid intake and making sure I have spare clothing on hand.”
The words are accompanied by a sigh, and the echoes of the exhaustion and resignation that were etched into him the day we met.
“I know, sweetheart, and I’m sorry. But when we’re both off work, we’ll havethis.” I squeeze his hand, referencing our relationship. “And we’ll make sure we get into a routine that works for us.”
“Except…well, you’re talking like you want to spend every waking moment of your free time outside of work with me,” Rowan looks out over the rolling ocean, his gaze going distant. “That doesn’t seem healthy. Or fair. You’ve got a social life, too, I’m sure.”
“Not much of one at the moment,” I admit. “I haven’t lived in the city long. I only transferred a couple of months ago and I’ve mostly been working. There’s a community center I was planning on checking out, though. It caters to people in the BDSM lifestyle, and I was thinking I might go to one of their social events to make some likeminded friends, you know?” I give his hand another squeeze as we turn to head up the sloping dunes towards the resort, our feet slipping in the soft sand as wework our legs to get up the gentle hill. “If you were comfortable joining me, maybe we could make some friends in the lifestyle together. Eventually, I mean. I know this is all still new to you.”
He's quiet as he processes, panting against the physical activity of trudging through the sand, but once we’ve reached the path that leads back to the resort, he says, “People like us? Like…” in the periphery of my vision, his Adam’s apple bobs, “like me?”
“People exploring ABDL?” I confirm and he nods. “Yeah, exactly. And other people in the age play and BDSM community, and people who have kinks or are in relationships which aren’t considered ‘standard’ by society.” I wait a moment before repeating, “But it’s not something you need to decide right now. Maybe we can talk about it in a few months’ time? And if you’d prefer to keep our dynamic purely private, that’s okay, too.”
He nods again. “I’ll think about it.”
“There’s no rush to make any of these decisions, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
And I’m not. He’s too precious to let go of.
Maybe one day he will believe that of himself, too.
Chapter Thirteen
Waking up on our last full day of vacation brings a bittersweet feeling with it. The last week has felt like something out of a dream. I never could have imagined that I'd feel comfortable wearing shorts or putting myself in situations where bathrooms weren't readily accessible, that I would find a companion who doesn't get grossed out when my bladder lets go without my permission and who isn't embarrassed when it happens in public, but all of that has been true.
I've even rediscovered a love of swimming —in pools, not the ocean— which the me of a week ago would have scoffed at. But here I am.
And, as if to punctuate just how dreamlike this whole thing is, I've woken up hard, my cock straining against the damp confines of my nighttime diaper.
Aaron has been amazing about my ED to this point. We've fooled around, grinding together in bed and on the couch, and with me giving him a couple of blowjobs in the shower, and he's never once sulked that I haven't physically gotten off with him, despite how much I have enjoyed our time together. But I can'tlie and say I haven't wished that I could get it up for him, that I could experience an orgasm with him, because I have.
And now there's a chance that I can, assuming this surprise erection doesn't deflate as unexpectedly as it appeared.
