Two Books by Delilah Cole

I’ve never been able to get into age play. The idea of someone calling me “daddy” in a sexual manner makes my stomach turn. Years ago, I met a woman online who—without realizing it—would slip into her “little space” during our conversations. Despite mutual interest, I couldn’t see anything developing between us. It felt dirty, and not the good dirty that comes with flirting. After months of back-and-forth, I finally asked, “Are you a little?” 

According to Restrained Grace, a little is “an adult person who has a strong need to be coddled or cared for tenderly, and may enjoy ‘cute’ or ‘childish’ things; can be a term used for people who engage with age play. Is often, not always in relationship with a Dominant who identifies as a Daddy, Mommy or Caregiver.”  

Age play is often misunderstood and criticized, with myths suggesting it perpetuates pedophilia. Elyssa Helfer debunks this in her article for The Alternative Sexualities Health Research Alliance.  

As I explained to her the concept of a “little” and “little space,” things in her life began to click into place. While I supported her self-discovery, I couldn’t participate in her kink. We haven’t spoken since. 

This memory resurfaced when I read Delilah Cole’s work. I didn’t know much about her, except that her name kept popping up in my inbox—probably because I snagged a freebie and landed on her listserv. I’m on a lot of writers’ listservs these days. Being a fan of cheesy, poorly written erotica, I decided to pick up two of her stories. And HOLY SHIT! 

I wondered how I was going to handle even reviewing these books. While they’re recorded in my bullet journal, they are not on my Good Reads or my Story Graph accounts for two reasons:  

1. They are not listed on either service, and 

2. Do I really want a record that I read them? (Outside of this blog post, I mean.) 

One story centered on age play. While reading, I had to keep reassuring myself that our narrator is an adult woman in her “little space,” as Cole noted. Still, the repeated use of “daddy” and the narrator’s mannerisms unsettled me. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long read. 

The second story wasn’t age play; it was just incestuous. All characters were adults and consent was present, but this story could run circles around the discourse that Fifty Shades of Grey brought up years ago.  

It’s clear that I am not part of her target audience because Cole isn’t a bad writer. She builds tension, sets scenes, and gives life to her characters—something many indie erotica writers fail to do. And she warns readers upfront, stating in her introduction that her “stories are raw, unfiltered, and wild. [She doesn’t] water it down—and [she doesn’t] hold back.” And she wasn’t kidding as she showed no restraint on writing this taboo story.  

Until next time, I suppose, keep on huntin’.