Page 6 of Little Boy Toy

“Where to this time?”

“Nosey, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “Curious. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you’re searching for something.”

We’d gotten to the bar by then and ordered drinks, so I didn’t have to reply. Our drinks came and, together, we went down to THE CELLAR. When I stopped by the daddies, boys and littles playroom, Errol said, “I thought you weren’t a daddy.”

“I’m not.”

Errol shook his head. “Okay then, maybe you like to play with toys?”

“Depends on what toys you’re talking about. Everyone seems to use toys in this club.”

“I can’t dispute that. Have fun.” He went sauntering off toward the changing rooms.

Before going in, I looked through the window. It was busy in there, as expected. Lots of boys and littles ran around in shorts, onesies, or even just diapers. Some played together, some stood off to the side, watching.

The daddies were at their usual adult table or on the couches. A few held their boys in their laps, stroking their backs, giving affection. One thing I noted from last week—this room did not appear to be a public sex room. I didn’t see any rules posted, but with littles running around, all with different psychologies, maybe it an unspoken rule out of respect. I was still learning how it all worked.

I didn’t see Kendry—if that was truly his name; I’d only heard it last week from the men talking about him—and walked inside for a more thorough inspection. He didn’t know my name. I had never given it and he hadn’t asked. Pushing Kendry’s boundaries, whatever they were, was not my intention. If he wanted to know my name, and me to know his, he’d ask.

As I moved into the room, many heads turned, but I ignored them. The reading corner was empty.

I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Something about Kendry had held my attention. He was why I came back tonight, of course. But not for sex, like most guys. It was about something else I’d wrestled with all week, still finding no concrete answers. It was a feeling, and I wasn’t super great at articulating those. Something about him made me feel comfortable and comforted at the same time. Being around him was relaxing, like meditation. Without expectations. I hadn’t played “daddy” with him last week and he’d seemed okay with that.

If the two daddies I’d overheard were telling the truth, Kendry might not even be looking for a daddy. But what, then? He was definitely a little. He had needs. Kink needs. Just maybe not the usual kind that went with the little label.

When I was fascinated by something, it made me curious. I would investigate from all angles. I knew about littles and daddies, but not intimately. I’d found very little about the subject online.

Now, here I was, back in the playroom at The Red Door hoping to figure some things out. And to see Kendry again without any pressure.

I was still a stranger to these regulars on a Friday night. It didn’t matter. I made my way to the reading corner and sat in one of the low-to-the-ground chairs again. Through half-closed eyes, I watched the boys and littles play. It was strangely relaxing.

Maybe Kendry had other plans for tonight. Maybe he didn’t always come here on Saturdays. The club was dark on Tuesdays but had activities every other night of the week. If I missed him this time, I’d keep trying.

The bright colors on the walls and shelves full of toys were lulling. If this had been a daycare with real children, I would not feel the same. Children were stressful beings who needed constant care. This was different. While some littles did appear to want attention from their daddies, it was on agreed terms. The room was like a hug with no strings attached. I could hang out, watch, and ease my thoughts.

The other rooms of the club came with a lot of expectations. Public and private performance expectations. Sex was a given. I’d learned that from other clubs through the years. That was enjoyable, of course, but came with its own rules and stresses. I liked this room because no one expected anything of anyone. Roles were acted on, but in a more private way.

I wondered when I’d gotten so old that my hormones weren’t calling to me every moment of the day and night. What was wrong with me? I asked it of myself many times over the past few months. Now I tilted my head back, my feet splayed out in front of me, my hands folded on my stomach, and decided nothing was wrong. Maybe I just wanted something different.

Kendry was different, for sure. He had been in my thoughts all week.

“Hey. You’re in my spot.”

I looked to my right and there he stood. The boy who loved to read to himself.

Tonight, he wore cute pink shorts showing off his slender legs and a little white t-shirt that didn’t quite reach his waistband, showing a delectable inch of bare midriff. The t-shirt had a baby pink elephant on it. A necklace swayed against his chest. It was a clear blue plastic bunny.

He was the most adorable being I’d ever seen.

“Hello again,” I said. “Do you want me to move?”

“Well, I guess you’re not exactly in my spot. Just near it.” He sat in another chair beside me, placing a stack of books in his lap. He rested both elbows on the top book. “You do take up a lot of room.”

---