Daddy, Boyfriend & Me: Her First Romantic Menage

by S. L. Finlay

  Where William was careful and measured, Joel was spontaneous and maybe a little reckless.

  Where William was kind and soft, Joel was a total bad boy.

  Where William chose his words carefully and was never misunderstood, Joel treated the English language like a mess of words that he didn’t bother using their proper meanings for, and which he would spit out in an attempt to be understood. If Joel was misunderstood though, to him that was never his fault, but the fault of the listener.

  It was something in the fact that Joel wasn’t refined where his appeal lay. Where all the men I had grown up with, and all the men I was now working with in my regular workplace and at the university, were all one way, Joel was the opposite. His appeal with in his exoticness.

  Joel was a tradesman, or as he called himself and everyone here in Australia called them, a tradie. He worked on building new houses, of which there were plenty in Melbourne. He worked long days to get jobs done, and would spend long hours with his colleagues, who he also caught up with for beers at the local pub on the weekend.

  Joel’s life revolved around his work - which payed him handsomely for his many hours of labor - and his mates. His body, like the bodies of most of the men he worked with, was covered in tattoos.

  When I asked him about their meaning quietly, softly, in bed after we had had sex and were both feeling tired and elated, he would smile at me and tell me in his cute self-assured way that they didn’t have a meaning. They were just there to look good.

  “Like you?” I asked, teasing.

  “What do you mean?” He clarified. Joel had good instincts, even if he didn’t know exactly what you were talking about, he knew when something felt a little off.

  I had thought I was being cheeky, but I felt the smile run away from my face when I realized by his reaction that my comment was a little mean.

  “I was saying, that your tattoos were just there to look good, just like you are there to look good.” I told him, feeling uncomfortable at my own words as I did so.

  “Is that so?” He had raised his eyebrow at me.

  “No. It’s not. I am just being a dick.” I had told him before rolling away from him, feeling ashamed at myself.

  Even as I spent a lot of time with Joel, it didn’t seem like I would ever deprogram the snobbery that I had been bought up with. Blue collar workers weren’t as good as ‘us’ I had been taught both implicitly and explicitly by all the people around me growing up, and even as an adult.

  That sort of bigotry was strange to me, even as I was unwittingly taking part in it. Australia was famous for its society unstratified by class. We had taken great pains to erase any sense of a class divide throughout our history. Australia was the only country I knew about where someone wouldn’t advertise their PhD with a ‘Dr.’ Prefix before their name unless they were actually a medical doctor, because Australian’s felt it was a sort of intellectual snobbery and were likely to call someone out for it, labeling them a wanker.

  We were the only country I knew about that had values around mateship and honesty rather than how much you earned and how nice your house or car was. Of course, those people still existed, which was what baffled me, and I had been surrounded by them growing up.

  But Joel, he was something else. He came from the ‘real Australia’, or the Australia that we as a society hold up as being the real Australia.

  Joel cared about his mates, he cared about everyone getting ‘a fair go’ - Australian catch phrase for equity and equality, two things we care deeply about and that are part of our Australian psyche. Even though they’re only ever talked about in relation to how fair things are, not by addressing the things that make the world unfair - he was a man’s man and I loved him for it.

  And god was that hot as hell, too.

  Bringing myself back to reality, I realized I hadn’t even washed my hair. Unsure how much time I had been reflecting on everything Joel, I took a deep breath and reached for the shampoo. A short while later, I finished in the shower and toweled off before slipping into a summer dress. It had been unusually warm this summer, so I had gotten to wear plenty of summer dresses, which had been nice, if a little strange for this time of year.

  As I got myself ready and reflected on all the differences between Joel and the world I had grown up in, it made more and more sense why I liked this guy.

  Joel’s authenticity was what made him so attractive. Or, it was one of the many things.

  As I put the finishing touches on my outfit and reached for my hand bag, I felt the flutter of butterfly wings inside my tummy again. Joel definitely had more going for him than that, I reflected. Thinking about how great it felt to be going out with him. How great it felt to spend time with him at all.

  No, there was a lot more to him than that.

  Joel had pulled up out the front of my house right on time, like I had known he would and when I walked out of my front door, keys in hand, I smiled broadly as I looked over at his car. Of course like every tradie, he drove a ute. His shiny new gray flat-bed truck pulled into my drive way, and I could see the gleaming white of his teeth as he shot me a warm smile from behind the steering wheel before cutting the engine and jumping out of his ute to come give me a hello kiss on the cheek.

  He gave his little hello kiss on the cheek, then I, who hadn’t seen him in a week - which felt much longer than that by now - moved in for a real kiss. Of course, Joel obliged. We kissed softly, but I felt the kiss in my whole body. I needed this, I reflected as we shared our intimate moment. I hadn’t realized quite how much I had needed it until it was happening, either.

  Joel pulled away from the kiss before I did and I let out a little involuntary groan of displeasure. I wanted to keep kissing.

  “Don’t worry.” He said with a wicked grin, “there’s plenty more where that came from.”

  I smile at him and walked around his ute to the passenger side, getting in the car I made myself comfortable as Joel turned on the music, checked I was okay and buckled in before reversing out the driveway fast without looking.

  Involuntarily, I let out a little squeal of fear and excitement and Joel laughed as another car came to a screeching halt narrowly missing my side of the car. The driver was yelling at Joel and he gave a little smile and a wave. I rolled my eyes at him as he laughed and took off.

  “You are crazy.” I told him, hearing the anger in my own voice, which surprised me.

  Joel ignored the anger and tried to make light of it, “was just making sure you were paying attention.” He told me before playing around with the radio and taking his eyes off the road.

  “No! Eyes on the road!” I said as I slapped his hand away from the radio to stop him flipping around stations. “I’ll do that.”

  Joel made sounds of frustration but looked back at the road none the less. I chose a song to listen to and we hurtled forwards.

  “Where are we going?” I finally asked as we drove through town.

  “Not any of these places.” He told me, looking out the window pointedly at all the places we went past.

  “Why none of these places?” I asked.

  “Oh, they’re alright.” He clarified, “just we’re not going to them.”

  I nodded, as if I knew what that meant, even though I didn’t.

  “So, where are we going?” I finally asked.

  Joel smiled, “Why you wanna know?” He teased.

  I let out a deep sigh, “it’s a secret, is it?”

  Joel’s smile grew, “it might be.”

  “Might it be?” I asked him, feeling the corners of my mouth wanting to pull upwards.

  “It might.” He told me.

  “Hmmm… well if it is a secret, do I get a clue?” I asked, “can I guess?”

  “I don’t know, can you?” He asked.

  He was being annoying on purpose, but I wasn’t going to bite. I could go around in circles just as much as he could.

  “Is it a place starting with an, ‘a’?” I asked.

 
“It might be.” He told me.

  Then I laughed. I couldn’t help it, I was going to keep this going, but I laughed instead.

  “You’re mean!” I finally declared.

  “Am not!” He told me before asking, “how am I mean to you?”

  “You are so mean to me!” I said, with emphasis on the ‘so’. “You almost kill me coming out of the drive way, you won’t tell me where we’re going!” I declared, a little more dramatically than I meant to, even though I did mean to sound a little dramatic.

  “How is that mean?” He asked, but he was pulling up now, parking the car.

  We were outside the local Italian place, it was a decent restaurant, one I loved coming to, but which could be quite expensive, especially if you had the wine here, and you had to have their wine. The same people who owned this place owned a vineyard, and their wines were always excellent.

  “This place? We’re going to this place?” I asked as I stepped down from the ute and Joel took my hand, closing the door for me.

  “Yeah.” He said, mimicking my tone.

  “Well, you could have just said.” I told him.

  “But where’s the fun in that?” He asked.

  I rolled my eyes at him pointedly and we walked into the restaurant together. We sat down and the waitress bought us some menus. We were chatting together for ages though without opening our menus before the waitress came over to our table and asked if we wanted to order drinks. As if we hadn’t been sitting here for ages with menus I asked, “what do you have?”

  The waitress blinked and told me, “beer, wine-”

  I cut her off, “-of course. The wine. Can you bring us some of the house red? A bottle?” I asked while looking at Joel for confirmation. He nodded.

  “Certainly.” She said before asking Joel, “two glasses then?”

  Joel nodded, “yes. Two glasses please.”

  The waitress walked away then with a little smile and I turned to Joel.

  “That’s so rude, that they assume you wouldn’t drink wine, as if you’re not cultured enough!” I told him, “I bet it’s the tattoos.” I was looking at his arms, covered as they were in tattoos.

  Joel just shrugged and said something about the fish tank that was sitting near us.

  “Look at that, they’re all hungry.” He said, watching the small gold fish bobbing near the top of their tank, looking for food.

  “I guess.” I said, making a cursory glace at the tank before turning back to Joel, “How can that not bother you?” I asked.

  He was still looking at the fish. “It does.”

  “Well, if it does, why don’t you make a bigger deal, rather than just asking for a glass?” I asked, feeling frustrated and confused at the same time.

  “Pardon?” Joel asked, looking back at me.

  “Why don’t you make a bigger point of it?” I asked.

  “A bigger point?” Joel asked, his face a little blank. “Of the fish? Being hungry? Should I say something?” He asked innocently, motioning towards the fish tank again.

  “No, not the fish, Joel. The wait staff asking you if you wanted a glass, as if you wouldn’t drink wine.” I told him.

  Joel’s face shifted from confusion to understanding then to his own frustration.

  “Because I don’t care.” He told me, “for all you know, they were assuming you were a massive alcoholic who might want a whole bottle to yourself.”

  “We both know that’s not the case!” I declared, angry both that he wasn’t taking this seriously and also that he seemed to be arguing with me about it when all I wanted was for them to treat him better.

  “Well, I don’t know. I have seen you downing a whole bottle in the past.” He told me, a cheeky grin on his lips.

  I rolled my eyes, but just then the waitress appeared with the bottle and the two glasses.

  “Ready to order?” She asked, all smiles as she poured our wine.

  “I don’t know, I think Mel might have something to say.” He told the waitress, but I just rolled my eyes at him.

  “Yes, we’re ready to order.” I told her, I knew what I liked here, Joel would have to make a decision quickly for his cheekiness now. Internally, I was glad for having something - even as small as making him hurry up and choose his food - to get him back for being so damned cheeky.

  I ordered, then without looking at the menu he ordered too. Internally, I was frustrated. I waited until the waitress was retreating in the direction of the kitchen before I said anything though.

  “You’ve been here before?” I asked.

  Joel nodded. “My mum used to love this place when we were kids.” He told me.

  “It’s been open that long?” I asked, surprised.

  Joel shrugged. “I guess.”

  I nodded in response, internally feeling a bit annoyed that he had an answer to the question when the waitress asked what he wanted, but not wanting to dwell too long on this. He didn’t give me too long to be annoyed before he was launching into questions about the most random topics. He did this, Joel. He wanted to know every little thing about me, it seemed.

  Between questions about my childhood and what movies, music and books had changed my life and how they had done so, the food arrived.

  Joel was having a great time with me, sharing a few drinks, having some food. He seemed keen to enjoy this time with me and I was keen to enjoy the time with him too.

  Our food had long since been finished and we were almost finished our second bottle of wine when I noticed the waitress was giving not so subtle signs she wanted us out. I knew how it started - I had overstayed at plenty of places - it would start with sweeping the floor, then they would start packing things away loudly. Although we were only here for lunch, I had no idea what they had on this evening. It could be a private function or they could just close for a couple hours in the afternoon to let their staff have a rest and some food before the evening shift. It was annoying to be booted out of a place before it was even dark, but I could cope with that.

  When the waitress was out of earshot I asked Joel, who had been mid-way through a story about something funny that had happened at his work, “I think they want us to go.”

  “Oh.” He said, looking around for the waitress and seeing her at the till, out of earshot. She was counting money. He then looked back at the wine bottle which was almost done and picked it up, pouring much of the wine into my glass.

  “What are you doing? I don’t want all of it!” I objected, already feeling pretty tipsy.

  “Well, you’ll like it.” He told me with a grin.

  “Will I?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

  “We can’t waste it!” He objected, “and I have already had too much!” He told me as he downed his glass and I did the same. Together we stood up and walked towards the till where money was being counted.

  The waitress smiled and printed a bill, Joel gave it a cursory glance before handing over his card. I hadn’t had a chance to reach for mine, but even if I had, I knew it would basically only be paying lip service to my paying. Joel liked to pay for things, and besides, he had more money than I did.

  After we had paid up, we were out on the street, giggling. Joel took me by the hand and led me down a nearby side street, away from his ute.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, surprised by the unexpected change of direction but not alarmed.

  “I wanted to show you something.” He told me, and taking his hand I let him lead me away, all the while we were chatting. Conversation was easy with Joel, it happened easily. It flowed nicely. It was just so easy to be with him, being with him was like breathing air.

  We walked for a little while before we came to a park and when I hesitated before we reached the children's play equipment, Joel took me by the hand and told me it would be fun. I couldn’t let him down, so followed along, the grin wide on my face.

  We reached a flying fox and Joel got on, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He was holding the thing in position, ready to fly when he wan
ted to.

  “Jump on me!” He told me and I shook my head vigorously. That didn’t seem like a good idea at all.

  “No way.” I told him.

  “Oh, common!” He cried, “Jump on, it will be fun!”

  “But, I can’t.” I said, feeling suddenly self conscious about my weight. The only way I could get on would be to jump in his lap as he sat on the flying fox with a bar between his legs. The bar joined to the top rail which would fling us forward. He was only holding himself there using his feet too, what if I jumped on and he moved his feet too soon and I landed on the cold ground on my butt? That would surely break something.

  “Yes you can.” He told me sounding annoyingly self-assured, “you’ll fit.”

  I looked at his lap, disbelieving what he was telling me and sure I would fall off, but I couldn’t let him down. I couldn’t not give him his joy. The smile on his face was so wide, so unselfconscious. I never got to see him like this and it made me want to do anything I could to keep him like this. To keep him happy.

  “Okay.” I finally declared. “I’ll do it!”

  Then, I jumped on his lap and a second later when I said I was ready, he pulled his legs up and we went flying.

  There was a noise of unabashed child’s laughter. It was high and happy, with the warmth of childhood in its tones. It took me a long moment to realize that was my laughter. I looked over at Joel who was sitting across from me, his face warm and open, laughing.

  We were both laughing like children as this thing flung as forward, hit the end of the line then flung us half the way back. I was sure real children wouldn’t get as good of a ride on the flying fox as they wouldn’t have all of our weight behind them.

  But Joel didn’t leave me feeling fat. I was on his lap as he sat on this little rubber thing on the flying fox, and I was sure many men would complain about pain in their butt and legs, but he didn’t. He just laughed. He was just in this moment with me, and we were both loving every second of it.