I am not alone when it comes to my love of daddy. The gratefulness of the daddy - his visceral, physical urge for your young-ass body - complicates the power dynamic created by your vast age difference. The ecstasy of a daddy is that he doesn’t just treat you like a hot girl he treats you like a holy temptress. A daddy is older and probably acts like he knows better than you you’re okay with that. A daddy is an imperfect combination of authority and appreciation a man my age (early 20s) is none of those things. I’m not into dads, per se, but I can sure as hell fuck with a daddy. I’m making peace with it, though, because you can’t escape your circumstance, your patterns, your daddy, other daddies, the daddy. It made me feel yucky, viscerally nauseated. My therapist once pointed out the parallels between my relationship with him and my relationship with my father. ![]() I never called him “daddy,” but, oh boy, was he daddy. His ironically boyish excitement - a 21-year-old! with 21-year-old breasts! - filled me with bliss. ![]() I felt utterly helpless, except when we were actually hooking up. Shortly after I turned 21, I began seeing someone twice my age and soon fell victim to that exhausting, obsessive sort of desire that had the object of my ardor infiltrating all my thoughts all the time. Photo: Valua Vitaly/MAKE-UP AND STYLE - MARGARITA VALUA
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