Here’s some more of the second Detective Daddy story, Detective Daddy and the Man with the Golden Bum.

In case you missed it:

• Part 1

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Part Two of Five

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Case File 002: The Man with the Golden Bum

9/1/14

Late Labor Day night found me in bed, spooned up behind Tara. Her bottom was soft and warm where it pressed against my hips, her breathing slow and even. She was snoring lightly, but it was okay; I wasn’t ready to fall asleep yet. I thought about trying to get hard again, to wake her up and take her one last time, but my cock wouldn’t budge.

I was scrolling through Kinkster on my phone and I paused to tap on a photo from Ghost. She was on one knee beside a man on a St. Andrews Cross, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of golden briefs. She was grinning widely, one hand grabbing his thigh, her curly braided hair in pigtails on either side of her head, her breasts pushed up by a ruby-red corset with black laces. The caption: “The Man with the Golden Bum! Who will he bang? Me, if I can figure out who he is. Anyone know?”

I laughed softly, trying to keep from waking Tara. Ghost and her husband were in an open relationship, and she loved topping a man and then fucking him when he was at his hardest. I’d seen her do it at the swingers’ club downtown, and it had been just the impetus Tara and I had needed to lock ourselves in one of the private rooms for what turned out to be a quickie — but the hottest quickie we’d ever had. Ghost didn’t usually let people go before she was done with them, so there had to be some reason the Man with the Golden Bum hadn’t ended up in her hotel room.

I posted a comment — “Poor guy doesn’t know what he missed.” — and went back to my news feed. There were several pictures from Dragon*Con and I hearted the ones that I particularly enjoyed, but I’d already checked out the parade gallery on IO9 and that’s where the best costumes were.

When I refreshed my feed one last time, it turned out that a lot of people had commented on the Golden Bum picture. No one knew his name, and while a few people had talked to him, no one knew much about him either. It was a mystery: he’d shown up at the dungeon, negotiated a scene with Ghost, and then disappeared before she could finish the job.

Hopefully he’d turn up.

In the meantime, I flipped apps and went back to my book. I was slogging my way through the fifth Game of Thrones novel, and was looking forward to finishing it so I could read another book. Any other book. This one was taking forever.

*

I was in the office I’d commandeered from my latest consulting client, reviewing requirements for yet another new project, when my IM window popped up. You there, Daddy?

I couldn’t help a smile. I’m here, sweetheart. What’s up?

Can you go on Kinkster? You should see this.

Technically I shouldn’t have agreed, but I’d been chained to this desk for almost an hour and I needed a break. I dropped off the corporate wi-fi, turned on my hotspot, changed to my other Chrome identity — I didn’t do anything personal on the work one, and I didn’t do anything work-related on the personal one — and put in my password.

I blinked when I saw the state of my feed.

Every other post seemed to be about the Man with the Golden Bum. Apparently he wasn’t unknown in the kink community: he’d show up at a dungeon, arrange a pickup play session with a female top, and disappear before the aftercare could begin. Over the last six months he’d been seen in Orlando, Miami, New Orleans, Nashville, three cities in North Carolina, and even a couple of times at Paddles in New York City — once at an open play night and another time at a male-only night, which was, as far as I could tell from all the posts, notes, and status updates, the only time he’d ever played publicly with a man.

I clicked on Tara’s message window and typed: What the hell?

I know, right? This guy’s a myth. Everyone’s got a story, but only Ghost posted a picture, even if it was just something she drew. Ghost was a fairly good artist. I wonder if he even knows about it.

He has to know, I said. If he’s active in the community, he’s on Kinkster, even if he doesn’t post anything.

I wonder who he is.

~shrug~

There was a pause. And then Tara’s message blinked again.

Let’s find out.

*

Tara and I had a ritual for when I came home from work. I would put my shoes in the closet and my bag on the hook in the foyer, and then I would sit on the couch. She’d already have a cup of ice water on a coaster on the table beside me, and she’d be wearing a tank top and panties and nothing else. She’d sit on the floor in front of me, put her head on my thigh, and I would pet her.

Not that Tara was a pet, not in the way that my friend Jesse looked for subs who were also pets. I would just run my fingers through her hair, or brush my hands over her shoulders, or gently press her face to my leg and let her nuzzle me.

“How was your day, Daddy?” Her forest-green tank top brought out her eyes. “Was it good?”

I nodded. “About normal, sweetheart.” I let my fingers touch her lips; she held my hand in both of hers and took my thumb into her mouth. It wasn’t a sexual gesture — when it was, she would work my thumb over like she did my cock and I would become instantly hard. This was comfort, as well as reassurance: Daddy was here, and she was safe.

I smiled down at my sweetheart. “There’s Daddy’s good girl.”

She made a contented little sound around my thumb and her eyes fluttered shut.

We sat that way for a couple of minutes, the only other sound the occasional car passing on the street and the occasional bird sending a tweet. The air conditioner clicked on; my phone buzzed in my pocket. At first it had been difficult for me to stay so still, but I knew now after all these years that this was something Tara needed at a bone-deep level, and as her Daddy I wanted to give her everything she needed.

Some minutes later she took my hand in hers and gently tugged my thumb out of her mouth. She was smiling. “Thank you, Daddy.”

I adjusted my hand so it was around her wrist and pulled, not hard, but hard enough that she got the idea and came up to sit sideways on my lap. I put one arm around her waist and the other high on her thighs; I kissed the side of her breast through her tank top. “I love you. How was your day?”

“It was fine. That golden bum stuff was pretty crazy, though.”

I nodded. “Still going on?”

“Last I checked. No one knows who this guy is but now everyone wants to.”

“What about Ghost? She say anything?”

Tara shook her head. “She said thanks when people said she looked good in that corset, but otherwise no.” She touched my shoulder, and then my chin, tipping my chin up; I met her lips as she bent her head. The kiss was sweet and soft, with a slight undertone of urgency. “I haven’t thought about it much since you’ve been home.”

“Oh, haven’t you?”

She moved one leg off my lap. I slid my hand up the satin smoothness of her inner thigh and pressed the back of my hand to the center of her panties. She shook her head. “I haven’t, Daddy. Promise.” Her hand covered mine. “Just about this.”

I curled my hand into a loose fist, my middle knuckle nestling against her clit through her panties. “This, you mean?”

A nod that was almost frantic — and that stuttered to a stop when I rubbed my knuckle against her.

“Pull them aside, sweetheart. Daddy wants to touch you.”

This was something Tara had been leery about at first — she preferred to just take her clothes off. But she would do what I said, because she trusted me. And because she knew I would touch her in just the right way.

Once her bare flesh was revealed to me, I turned my hand and cupped her, her clit against the heel of my palm and my middle finger teasing between her lips. She took a long, quivering breath, and let it out in a sigh. She was only a little wet, and I would have to be careful — at least at first.

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More tomorrow!