Chapter Three
Daphne looks stunning when she descends the stairs. A modern-day goddess descending from the clouds to walk among the mere mortals she rules over with a beautiful, kind hand.
Of course, we’re running later than expected, but as long as we’re on time for the big surprise party this evening, everything will be perfect.
When she reaches the bottom step, Daphne gives a twirl, the long, pink, maxi dress I chose for her to wear fanning out from her body as she giggles. “How do I look, Daddy?”
My breath catches in my chest. “Perfect, Baby. Absolutely perfect as always.”
Though I don’t always choose Daphne’s outfits for her, when it comes to special occasions, she loves for me to choose, saying it makes her feel extra special that I’ve taken time out of my day to pick out something pretty for her. When we were out in town last week and I noticed the dress in a newly opened boutique across the street, I knew it would look fantastic on my wife—a dress that she wears, not the other way around.
“That’s hardly true.” She pouts, truly believing her words.
I give her a stern look. “It is true.”
“Even first thing in the morning when I have drool stuck to my face and my hair is a matted rat’s nest?”
Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her gently. “Even then.”
“Would you still think I was perfect if I turned into a worm?”
With her still in my arms, I laugh. “Yeah, Crazy. I’d still think you were the most perfect little worm in the entire world. I’d fill a tiny cup up with dirt and carry you around with me everywhere I went. Now, let me see the other presents Daddy got his Little Star. Then, we have a date at Dina’s Diner for milkshakes.”
The mention of a milkshake has Daphne bouncing around with anticipation, her vigor renewed. Still, I hold onto her tightly with one arm around her waist, pulling up her dress with the second to see the gorgeous ass that’s on display for me. A single ribbon of pink satin that perfectly matches her dress peeks out from between her equally bite-able heart of an ass.
“One more thing to check, Sweetheart.”
Daphne’s taller than normal—her heels higher today than a CVS receipt is long. Still, she fits so easily between my arms, making it simple to cup her ass with a strong yet practiced hand. “Show me, Daphne. Show me what’s between these pretty cheeks.”
It’s not a question—more a command that she follows without hesitation. After all these years, she knows I’ll never lead her astray. Even on the days I push her to her limits, I never have intention to push her over the edge. She’s chosen me to keep her safe, to be her Daddy. And even if my palm is the one bringing her pain some days, I’ll always pull her close to my chest and hold her tightly as I whisper words of affirmation at the end.
Turning, Daphne leans over the stairs she just came down, bending over until her ass is on full display for me. Only then does she slide the pink string to the side, giving me a view of exactly what I was hoping to see.
The third gift I gave her—after the dress and the thong—stares back at me, a heart-shaped, pink, crystal heart winking at me from between her asscheeks. I suck in a breath, wanting to bury myself deep inside her pussy while toying with that little gem. The need to feel my girl extra full nearly consumes my soul. “Jesus Christ, Sweetheart. You look so pretty stretched around that plug. How does it feel?”
Leaning closer, I kiss each one of her cheeks on either side of the plug before tapping it gently. She squeals, not expecting the movement. “That’s not fair! Warn me next time you’re going to do something mean like that to me, Daddy!”
“Where is the fun in that?”
With one firm swat of her bratty backside to remind her who is in charge, I replace the string of the thong before smoothing her dress down over her body. “Now, about that milkshake?”
Righting herself, she slips her palm into mine, and together, we head to the front door.
Only when we open it and are about to cross the threshold, a small, black, pile of fluff stops us in our tracks.
Before I can stop my wife, she swoops to the ground and scoops up the tiny thing. Bright, yellow eyes look up at Daphne with an inquisitive gaze, and like the sucker I am, I already know that we’re adding a cat to our list of Daphne’s birthday presents.
Well, I did say I wanted to spoil her extra this year.
“Where did you come from?” Daphne coos at the animal, much in the same way she speaks to babies. It’s all sweetness, not an ounce of her bratty behavior to be seen.
Reluctantly, I reach over and give it a little scratch. In response, it meows.
Well, at least I think that’s what it does?
The noise it makes is raspy and hoarse, as if this is the first time the kitten has tried to make such a sound. Its little, pointy kitty claws are sharp as it reaches out with a minuscule paw, but I easily move my hand before it can make contact.
“We can’t just leave it out here.”
“We can if it’s going to act like that. Where would we even put it?”
Daphne’s chin begins to quiver, a surefire tell that she’s about to start crying.
I can’t stand when Daphne cries.
“Okay, okay,” I tell her placatingly. “Come on. I’ll swing into Dina’s and get us shakes to go. Then, we can head over to the pet store.”
Bouncing so enthusiastically I’m afraid she’ll harm the kitten, I urge her to calm down.
Her smile is still wide, but thankfully for the cat and my propensity to get motion sickness, she stops bouncing. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m just really excited!”
There is nothing worse than breaking her heart. Still, I know we need to be smart about this. “Listen to me, Sweetheart. We’ll have to take it to the vet to have it checked out. I don’t want you to get your hopes up too much. It might already belong to someone.”
Though as small and skittish as the thing is, I doubt there is someone desperately searching for the poor kitten.
Still, Daphne takes the news better than I expect. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to take away someone else’s pet. Especially if it is a child’s. Oh, I hope it doesn’t belong to someone. Not because I don’t want to give it up—which would obviously gut me. I just can’t imagine the thought of a poor little kid missing their fluffy, best friend.”
She holds the kitten closer to her chest, and I swear to God, the thing begins to purr.
Maybe it’s just me the cat doesn’t like.
I try to make quick work of our detour, sipping milkshakes as we make the short walk across our small town to Maude’s Pet Supply. There are so many things I want to do today to celebrate Daphne, and I need every single second of the day to make it work. But of course, on a day when we’re pressed for time, we run into no less than seven people who want to stop and regale us with stories of their weeks.
Daphne gives them all wide smiles, introducing everyone to the kitten, who fell asleep on the walk only to wake up again each time we stopped long enough to speak with friendly neighbors and townsfolk.
Best part of living in a small town?
Everything is just a short walk away, and people are always ready for friendly conversation.
Worst part of living in a small town?
Everything is just a short walk away, and people are always ready for friendly conversation.
What should have taken less than an hour has us arriving back home nearly seven hours later. My arms are bogged down with everything from kitten food and formula to a tiny bag of litter, toys, a cat bed, and a grooming kit with nail clippers, scissors, a brush, and a tiny little file.
Like I’ll be trying my luck at clipping that thing’s nails anytime soon.
While not a vet, Maude—the owner of, go figure, Maude’s Pet Supply—has seen enough animals over the years to roughly estimate the little pile of fur is about six to eight weeks old. And though it’s very lightweight, she assures Daphne that with our help and a warm place to stay overnight, the kitten will be okay until we are able to contact the local vet tomorrow morning. Even better, Maude had access to a scanner that allowed her to scan the kitten for a chip. None was found, and while that doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods yet, it does put us one step closer to this kitten becoming a permanent fixture in our lives.
Daphne cradles the kitten against her chest now, once again sleeping after its big, afternoon adventure. Around its neck is a sweet, light pink collar with a tiny bell and matching bow. And though we haven’t even determined things like if this cat is a boy or girl, or even more importantly, if the cat belongs to someone else, Daphne has all but demanded that the cat be named Soot Sprite.
“You know,” she says as we near the house, “the girls are going to be so pissed when they find out we got a cat now that they’re all grown up and out of the house.”
I laugh because she’s one-hundred-percent right.
“Serves them right,” Daphne continues, though there is no true malice in her voice. “Moving across the country for new adventures and traveling overseas to study. It’s like they don’t even love us anymore. What are we going to do when Joseph moves out?”
While I can’t see her eyes behind her oversized, mirrored sunglasses, I can tell that the question is earnest and I reply in just. “Well, lucky for both of us, he’s seven. So, we have a little bit of time. But when it does come, the answer is simple. Whatever we want to do, Sweetheart. Travel, visit our family that seems to be ever-growing and evolving, adopt or foster more kids. Maybe we can take up ballroom dancing, or I’ll become one of those old men who randomly sits in shaded parks, waiting for some random teenage prodigy to stop by and play chess with me each day.”
She laughs, amused at my antics even after all these years. “Do you even know how to play chess?”
“Of course, I don’t,” I tell her. “But there’s no time like the present to learn.”
“God, could you imagine me ballroom dancing?”
We reach the steps to our house and take them together, me still holding all the supplies needed to raise a healthy kitten, as well as more presents and gifts than any one spoiled princess needs. Throughout our trip to the store and back, we’ve collected more gifts from people in town, everyone eagerly pushing packages and products at Daphne when they found out it was her birthday as she pulled me into store after store.
All the while, I struggle to maintain my grip on everything, Daphne’s sole purpose is caring for Soot Sprite the kitten that dreamily snoozes against her chest.
“Respectfully, you’d probably impale my foot with a stiletto.”
Daphne scoffs, affronted that I would ever suggest such a thing, though the sound seems muffled.
Still, we both know I’m right.
Finally, we reach the door, and I try to reach for my keys buried somewhere deep in a pocket, but it’s tough.
I know what is waiting on the other side of our front door. The true reason why my job was to keep Daphne away from the house all day today. And as we get closer and closer to the moment where all her friends and family welcome her home from our afternoon with the party to end all parties, it’s becoming hard to withhold my own excitement.
All of our family and friends are gathered in the backyard. Our children—both those brought to us through birth and those who were in our lives for only a season—have traveled, some from across the country, alongside their own families, our co-workers, and more.
But when Daphne turns back to me, tears in her eyes, the excitement vanishes.
The Daddy I have grown to be with her by my side takes over. I place all the packages on the front porch—an addition we added to the house a few years ago—and pull Daphne into my arms, careful not to crush the little kitten between us. “Tell me what’s wrong, Sweetheart? What’s got my little girl crying tears on her birthday?”
Her poor, beautiful face is contorted in pain, the likes of which I’ve only seen a few times in our nearly a decade together. “Would you...would you be mad at me if I decided I didn’t think I wanted to continue to foster children or adopt any more babies? Like, I will absolutely always be here as a last resort, but the last few years...” She trails off as if trying to carefully choose her words.
Since the day I met Daphne, I’ve known her to be the woman who throws her entire heart and soul into any situation. Oftentimes, she leaps without looking. Seeing her so cautiously thinking over her words has me reeling with questions, wondering what it could possibly be she is trying to say.
The one hand not cuddling the kitten reaches up to gently rest against my chest, directly over my heart, the very essence of my life and soul that Daphne owns. “I never wanted to be a mother. It was never a calling I had or something that I grew up needing like so many other women talk about. But then I met you and the girls, then Joseph came into our lives, and we answered the call for our bonus kids, and it all felt so right. It was right. But like you said, learning how to play a leisurely game of chess really does feel like it might be more my speed these days.”
“My sweet, sweet wife. I could never be mad at you for anything. Especially not for being open and honest with me. Wasn’t it you that told me the night of our first date that the most important part of any relationship—power dynamic or not—was communication?”
I wipe at the few stray tears, cleaning her face as best as possible. If she walks through the front door and into our backyard with smudged eyeliner and raccoon eyes, she’ll never forgive me.
No matter how much I’ve grown to love when her face is smeared with pretty, messy tears.
“Now, come on, Little Girl. There’s one more surprise waiting for you inside.”
Without waiting, I take the kitten from her arms, press a kiss to her lips, and turn her back toward our front door.
From behind Daphne’s back, I smile as she pushes open the door. She walks into the quiet house, unaware of what’s happening just a few yards away. “Let’s put Soot Sprite into the laundry room together, then you’ll get your last gift.”
“Promise, Daddy?”
And after all, it’s not every day, you get to give your wife her very first birthday party.
“I promise, Little Star.”
THE END