Unending thoughts of the events of Bryan's party swirled through my mind for days and occupied my dreams at night.
As I lay in bed thinking on my experience, I would gently stroke my cock to orgasm as I went through the evening over and over in my head.
I remembered the absolute satisfaction I got from of all these people using me for their pleasure and the enjoyment of being watched as I did so. I had been used as a slut, but did not feel slutty for having submitted to it; perhaps oddly, I felt empowered.
Paul was coming back this weekend, and I knew I would have to tell him what I had done, about my submission to a group of men, almost all of whom I didn't even know. I'd have to admit him that I enjoyed it, and that I had thought of little else since. How would he respond to such an admission? Would I lose his respect?
I decided to write him a letter, and leave it in his mailbox to find upon his return. When he got back, he could read the letter, which would detail my experiences, as well as how they made me feel, and what I had discovered about myself and my sexuality; the letter would conclude by leaving it open to him on whether he still wanted to be friends, "which I sincerely hope you will."
(The letter I gave him was used to help recount the party for you in an earlier story entitled "Brian...More is What I Get")
Paul's flight arrived late Friday night; it was just before noon Saturday when he called.
After the mandatory customary pleasantries of the 'hello' and 'how are you' exchange, he opened with "Well, it seems you've been behaving badly while I was away..."
I couldn't tell from his tone if he was angry, joking, or just making a statement, and my brain scrambled for an appropriate response. "Depends what you mean by 'badly', I guess." I mentally kicked my self just as I finished speaking. Really, that's what I came up with?
I stammered for something better. "I'm sorry. Especially if I have hurt you in anyway," I begged, "I don't know what we are, I don't know if you see us as an item, and I don't know how we define whatever this relationship we have is."
"I understand," Paul replied. "I guess we've not really chatted about that, have we?"
"Not at all, I guess," I countered.
"What would you like this to be?" he asked. Great, the ball was in my court now, and I realize I haven't thought this through very well.
"I'm not sure," I struggled, "I don't know what I want right now. I like what we have. We're friends with benefits; but I am learning a lot about myself sexually, and I am enjoying the discovery. But you've been so good to me, and I love being with you, both as a friend and as, um, a lover."
Paul chuckled, and I felt myself blush. "You want both, eh? You want me AND you want to follow your new found desire to discover yourself sexually?"
"Uh, yes?" It was almost a question the way I said it.
"I'd rather talk about this in person, really," he said "I've got some errands to run this afternoon, laundry to do, groceries. Why don't you come over here this evening around 7, and we'll talk about what you want, and what my expectations are, in more detail?"
"Okay, that's sounds like a good idea," I accepted. "It will be good for both of us to understand where we stand."
"I agree," he replied. "See you tonight."
We hung up.
At 7 o'clock I found myself sitting in Paul's semi-detached home on his sofa.
We engaged in a bit of small talk over a martini, mostly discussing his trip south, which he made frequently for business and to replenish his cigar supply. He was a part owner of some kind of resort.
"About us now, " he began. "Do you know what a 'daddy' is?" he asked.
"A 'daddy', uh, sure he's a father."
Paul laughed. "Yes, but not in this case. A 'daddy' is an older man who guides and nurtures a younger man on his journey of sexual exploration; he provides encouragement, emotional support and direction."
"Oh, I didn't know that," I said honestly. This was an interesting concept.
"I read your letter, and thought about your experience. Twenty men? Really? You're clearly more adventurous than I thought."
"I hope you're not disappointed in me. Do you think less of me?"
"Very surprised, but not disappointed. So, back to our relationship; I have a suggestion. It comes with conditions though."
"Conditions? What do you mean?" I was worried he was about to propose we be exclusive.
"I will help you explore your sexuality; I'll encourage your adventurous side and you WILL experiment, but under my complete guidance and direction. I will use my finances and resources to help you explore. I'd like to be your 'daddy'".
