Published: January 7th 2022, 9:57:47 am
I always felt at home in the garden. I worked out there every day there was sun, tending to Mum's flowers. It was especially rewarding in the Spring, when all the lavender was just about ready to bloom and the wildflowers were well established. Flowers didn't judge me for the things I liked, or more pointedly, didn't like. None of this 'when are you going to give me grandchildren' nonsense. They just sat there planted in the ground.
It was one such spring day that I stood up from a freshly weeded flowerbed, planting my trowel in the ground and dusting off my hands, and I looked up, only to see the mailman standing there. I blushed slightly. He was a tall, stocky, handsome man and I had a bit of a crush, to be honest.
"Oh, uh, um, w-well, hi there," I said, blundering through my greeting. "I didn't notice you there." I willed myself not to wince at that. Of course I hadn't seen him. That much was obvious.
"Hello there, Gerald," said the Man. "Tending to your flowers again, I see."
I gasped, realizing he knew my name. But then of course he did. He delivered my mail after all. Speaking of which...
"What's that you have there?" I asked, as I saw him holding a white plastic bag under one arm.
"It looks like a parcel. I couldn't imagine what it is. Feels a bit squishy." My heart skipped a beat. I knew exactly what he was holding, and my face got redder as I noted that he was the one holding them.
"O-oh! W-well, let me take that," I said, practically crashing through the flower bed to reach for it, but he took a step back.
"Oh, do be careful. You'll trample your lovely tulips!"
"Oh! You're right... I..." In an instant my worry had all but been forgotten. "Oh! D'you like them?"
"Yes, I very much do," he said. "Your garden is the highlight of my day, Gerald."
"Oh, you don't mean that-"
"I do," he said, interrupting me. I stood back astonished. "Pardon me, but I do. Anyway, I suppose I should let you get back to work. Where can I set this down where it won't get, uh..."
He looked around. There really wasn't anywhere to put the mail.
"Oh, er, it's alright, I was just, er, finishing up," I said, doing my best to dust off my pants. I tried to take the mail from him then, but he insisted, saying it was no trouble at all to help take it further along until I could get myself cleaned up.
"Well, alright then. Er, here, let's just go inside then, and you can leave it on the, er... kitchen counter."
I was a bit reluctant to open my door to him, simply because of the fact that I lived alone and didn't tidy up, since I wasn't expecting any company. I should have been more mindful of the open laptop I had left in the kitchen with 'padded lads & dads' up on the screen.
"Oh, uh, right over this way, I said," directing him away from the screen. He glanced over his shoulder quizzically, as I diverted him to the small kitchen table, but didn't say anything. Simply set the mail down and I thanked him, hoping that he hadn't been able to make out what was on the screen. That's when the advertisement popped up, playing sounds of moaning nappy lovers.
"Oh yes! Rub my nappy, Daddy! I've been a bad boy!"
"Ahhh, thank you uh, um, ahh.."
"Terrence," he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise of the crinkling and moaning men. "Do you need to...?"
I ran to shut the lap top, turning around quickly, and standing about as stiffly as an ironing board. "Uh, um... pop up ads... you never know what they'll try to sell you..." I spluttered.
"Indeed," he said, with a slightly amused smile. He didn't make fun of me or storm out in disgust, which was really very decent of him. Instead, he said something that really threw me off. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit thirsty, do you mind if I have something to drink?"
I nodded, numbly, just wishing he would leave already. It was all I could do not to ogle this all too handsome man in my kitchen, and I wanted him to just leave before I embarassed myself further. But I busied myself washing my hands, set the kettle on the stove, and reached up to the high cabinet for some tea, which he said would be just the thing. I heard a click as I reached up, but when I turned around, he was just sitting there, waiting patiently. So I thought nothing of it. At least not until I brought his tea over.
"Oh, thank you so mu-oops," he said, knocking the parcel off the table as he took the cup from my hands. I managed to grab it with one hand but only by one side. The rest of the contents continued to fall, ripping it wide open and spilling nappies all over the kitchen floor. And these weren't just any nappies. Oh no. They were colorful nappies. Nappies with cartoons on them. Nappies with... Postman Pat.
I stood there in stunned silence, and then dove down to gather them up as quickly as possible. As I stood up, my face burning hot with shame, I heard another click. That's when I saw him holding out his phone. He shot me a devastatingly charming smile and said, "Just for my scrapbook."
"I beg your pardon?" I stammered, stumbling back and dropping a few nappies in the process.
"Well, that's just what any proud father would have, isn't it? A scrapbook of his most memorable moments with his little one?"
"I- you- I- ah- uh... come again?"
"Come here," he said, sitting back with his legs wide and patting his lap. I hesitated for a second, but he repeated himself more forcefully and I found myself compelled to obey. Soon I was awkwardly seated in this man's lap, his arm around my waist, tugging at the exposed plastic of my nappy peeking over my trousers. I was completely petrified.
"I'm so embarrassed, I don't know how-"
"Don't be," he said. "I already knew."
I turned to look at him, completely astonished. "You knew? About my... n-.... my n-... those?"
"Look," he said, opening his phone. Shot after shot of me crouched in the garden, the top of my nappy exposed for all to see thanks to shirts that rode up, and my tendency to forget my belt with my trousers. My mouth hung open. I hardly believed my eyes. "I told you it was the highlight of my day."
"W-well I, er, that is, I, um, oh dear..."
"I knew what was in the parcel, silly boy. I simply didn't think it was right that you should put them on yourself."
"You think this is wrong? That I'm some sort of freak?" I tried to stand up, but he negated that with a perfectly placed palm, providing downward pressure at just the right moment to halt my momentum and cause me to drop back down into his lap.
"No. I think that I should be the one putting them on you."
"W-well, I, er, that is, um, I, um... oh dear..."
Of course I let him do it. What else was I to do? But I hardly imagined that this was just the beginning of my humiliation and exposure as Daddy's little nappy lover.