Posts I guess

“How are you doing?” Daniel asks gently. “Great! I’m almost done peeling these carrots. Everything else is measured out and ready.” I nearly take my finger off when I feel a slight touch on my ass. 
“Looks great. Can’t wait to taste this cake you’re making. Going to be delicious.”
“If I don’t forget an ingredient. Or mix up the sugar and salt. Or burn it.  Or burn the house down.” Daniel chuckles, then kisses my cheek. “You’ll be fine. I look forward to dessert.” He gives me another ass pat and then strolls back into the living room where the game has returned to the television.

I watch him go. His mildly possessive touches have left me feeling warm and smiley. For the first time in my life, I’m really, truly content. I had been so unhappy in previous relationships and I never knew why. Daniel understood though, more than I ever could. I just liked to please a man, make his meals, fold his socks, be there when he needed to rut… it was a bit simple, if not a bit of an outdated mentality, but it was more rewarding than any office job I ever could hold. Spending a Sunday afternoon inside, making a nice carrot cake for after Sunday’s dinner was so fulfilling. Plus, I could put the cake pieces in Daniel’s lunchboxes for the week and he would love that.

The best thing though was that Daniel really appreciated me. His supportive comments were so natural, so casual, as if this is just how it was supposed to me. Me, him – us – in our effortless roles. Most alphas I have met are rather aggressive bastards. Daniel  is unbelievably chill. I’m sure if some man tried to take ownership of me in a club, a beatdown would occur, but it would take a lot to provoke him into such a state. No, Daniel was a laid back-guy. He was just happy to appreciate the simple things in life – a cute boyfriend, a football game on the screen, craft beer – a nice middle class life. Plus, home-cooked food, made with love.

I wondered how he would feel if I started baking wearing only an apron.

Text is fictional.


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