Chapter 8

Zale

Kendry would not leave my mind. At home. At work. In bed. His slightly sullen but very animated voice read to me even in my sleep. I dreamt of dragons flying at sunset, and racing raindrops named John and James. I kept thinking about beetles named Alexander. I raced talking cars and had a few minor nightmares about sea serpents.

I had planned to wait for Kendry to initiate anything that might happen between us, but it seemed I was not patient. I had asked for that hug after our pizza night.

Had I been out of line? If he was ace, did he want touching only on his terms? I could ask him, instead of wondering, but with Kendry I wanted him comfortable, with few or no demands from me. We could just hang out and be ourselves.

But then there was that annoying thing called communication.

I itched to text him the next day, pacing my rooms. Kendry was fun. But more than that, he was getting his hooks into me. I felt it like hands grasping at my shoulders and arms. At my neck and waist.

He had wanted a longer hug last night. I knew that. But I had to stop just in case I was reading him wrong. It mattered that I handle Kendry just right. But that hug. It was everything.

I stared at my phone. This boy. He was the only thing on my mind.

I opened the text window and started to type.

I hada good time last night.

Before I could finishand hit send, my phone chirped. The incoming text was from Kendry.

I started to laugh as I opened the message.

Kendry:Last night was fun. Thank you so much for the pizza and letting me keep the leftovers. When can we do it again?

Zale:I don't work tomorrow. How about tonight?

I worriedI was being too forward. But he had opened that door. He had texted first.

Kendry:I don't have to work, either. I can work, but I like to take my weekends off. I'd like to see you tonight.

Zale:You can come to my place this time. If you'd like.

Kendry:Yes! I'd love to see it. And you.

Zale:Come early. Texting you my address. Or I can pick you up.

Kendry:I can drive. How early is early?

If it had been entirely upto me, I would have said right now. But it was only ten a.m.

Zale:Come around three o'clock. I'll have snacks.

Kendry:I love snacks.

Zale:I'll have dinner for us, too.

Kendry:See you at three.

Did Kendry seem excited?How could I tell from a text? I read our thread over again three times and decided he typed with enthusiasm. That was a win for me. I'd have to keep a handle on things, though. If he was ace, I couldn't allow myself to get out of hand.

I returned from the store with quite a selection of snacks, and the makings for spaghetti for dinner. Every little liked spaghetti, didn't they?

I set out a huge serving plate on my coffee table with brownies, tinfoil-wrapped kisses, and mixed nuts, along with carrots, celery, dip, and little dill pickles to round out the healthy choices. I set another bowl out with grapes, sliced apples, and peeled and sectioned Cutie tangerines. I'd even bought Kendry a sippy cup and some juice. It was blue with little yellow emoji faces on it. The grocery store didn't have a huge selection, but I thought he might appreciate it.

After I got all that done, it was only one o'clock. I stood back and admired my setup. Everything was in place, perfect for the boy that was coming to spend the evening with me.

I sat down hard on my couch at a new revelation. I was acting like a total daddy. I wasn't a daddy, though. I didn't crave any little in any onesie sucking on any pacifier. I wanted just one little. That little was Kendry. He was the one. I didn't care if he was a little or a middle or older. He could be and do anything he wanted and that wouldn't change how I felt. Nor did I have to change myself around him. I liked doing nice things for my lovers in the past. That was built into me.

Maybe Kendry wouldn't turn out to be my lover, at least not in the sense people thought of lovers, but I could think of him that way and not be wrong about my own feelings. I could enjoy him just the way he was.

This was different for me, but also refreshing. I couldn't stop smiling.

Later, I took a long hot shower. I put on my best leather pants and white shirt. My hair looked pretty good, too, although my bangs wouldn't cooperate. They always wanted to swing forward even when I parted them and trained them to either side of my face. Even when I used hair product, hanks of hair always fell down the side of my temples, sometimes getting in the corners of my eyes.

At three sharp, a soft rapping sounded at my door. I opened it to see Kendry smiling up at me. He wore long pants today, solid blue, which was a shame because they didn't show his lovely thighs, and a long-sleeved pale blue pullover with a lime green alien face in the center. He had a small stack of thin children's books in the curve of one arm and the strap to a plastic kid's purse crossed over his chest. I had never seen him outside of the club or his own place, so I had never seen him carry a purse. The cuteness of that caused an unexpected fluttery reaction in my chest.

"Hi." I opened my door wide.

"Hi." Kendry stepped inside.

"Did you have any trouble finding the place?" I asked.

"Nope. It was easy." He grinned as he looked around.

I had a small house, nothing fancy, but Kendry's eyes lit up when he saw the living room. "It's so big."

Compared to his place, it was. "Glad you like it."

"I do! Very much!" He moved to the coffee table. "Can I set my books here?"

"Of course."

He bent, shoulder blades showing through the back of his shirt. He was lean and young, which was normal, but I longed to feed him when I saw that. I would love to dangle candied cherries before his puckered lips and feed him chocolate in bed.

I shook my head to clear it. I was getting way too ahead of myself. He might not want to share that much with me anyway, since he'd been so unhappy with daddy lovers in the past. I was not that, I told myself. I was different. So far, it seemed he liked me very much.

Kendry was busy walking all around my living room, touching the couch and recliner, hands trailing along the hearth. "I love your place."

"Thank you."

He came back to the coffee table where his books sat next to the snack trays. "Are these snacks for us?"

"Yep. All of it. And later I've prepared spaghetti for dinner. When we're ready, all I have to do is cook the angel hair."

"I love spaghetti," he commented.

"I guessed right, then."

"I'm glad you invited me."

I came around the couch to face him. "I need to be honest with you, Kendry. I really enjoy spending time with you."

His smile showed his teeth this time. "I'm glad, because I like it, too."

Already, we were clicking together. At the club, we hadn't done all that much talking. But last night had opened us up to each other. I hoped today would do that even more. I still didn't feel comfortable asking him if he was ace or celibate or whatever might be going on with him, but things were progressing.

"Come on. Let's sit and look at what books you brought."

"Okay." He sat and sank into my soft leather couch with a sigh. "Wow, this is comfy. I bought my own couch to sink into, too."

"I'm taking that couch with me to the grave."

He laughed as he reached for the top book in his stack. I sat beside him as I had last night, feeling the heat of him between us already sinking into my skin, wishing I could touch.

Kendry opened the book, which was a large one, and said, "Look. This one is so cute. It's about elephants. Aren't the pictures awesome?"

They were watercolors, one of my favorite mediums. "Beautiful."

"Did you know elephants stay pregnant for two years?"

"I think I heard that once."

"The herds are mostly female and they all band together to protect and take care of their babies."

"Read me the story."

"Okay." He turned the page to the first sentence, then stopped and looked up. "Do you ever want to read?"

"You mean out loud? To you?"

He nodded.

"I love your voice, but of course if you want me to read to you, I can do that."

"I know you say you're not a daddy, but?—"

"No, I'm not." I waited for disappointment to cross his features. Instead, he shrugged.

"It's okay. I'm six on the inside, so I can read."

"A smart six."

He giggled. "Yeah, I guess."

"But I can read, too," I countered. "If you ever need a break."

He nodded. "Well, I'll start."

I brought the tray of brownies and veggies up to my lap to entice him, but he couldn't very well eat and read at the same time. We ended up taking breaks between books to snack. Again, it was very meditative and relaxing to me. Being around Kendry calmed my heart and made me feel as if I fit into the world a little easier. Hearing his voice lulled me into a luxurious feeling of belonging.

We took another break from reading, and I turned on the TV. "Do you like cartoons?"

"I do." He then proceeded to give me a long list. He knew exactly where they streamed and since I had a few of those channels we were able to find one of his favorites, which was actually funny and entertaining.

He declared the brownies were the best ever.

"Store-bought," I told him.

"Wow. Store-bought." He spoke as if it were a luxury.

At dinner, Kendry became more curious.

"What do you do for fun?" he asked. "Do you like sports or cars or stuff like that?"

"Hmm, well, I do watch the Superbowl but I'm not a diehard fan. My biggest guilty pleasure is reality TV."

"Like Big Brother and Real Housewives?"

"No. More like Survivor and The Mole."

"Oh, I've never seen those. Now I want to."

"Just because I said I like them?"

He tilted his head, then nodded. "I want to know what you like."

That statement added so much hope to the kindling of fire burning in my heart for him. This was so different for me. A building of trust and foundation before anything else. My relationships had been always sex first. I never thought about that until I got into my thirties and started to ask myself, "What are you doing?"

With Kendry, there was never a lull in our conversation, never a dull moment. We chatted about our favorite movies, UFOs and Bigfoot, and even the world at large. He had never traveled. I had done some of that and shared some of my experiences.

Kendry made me feel young again, not that thirty-three was old, but being around him gave me permission to feel like I could just be me with no masks, and no trying to be proper. I wanted to be good for him, do everything right, but all that was on a level that gave me joy and never felt like work.

Together we placed the dinner dishes into the dishwasher, and I let Kendry put the soap packet in the little compartment and push the button to turn it on. He was fascinated.

"Don't you have a dishwasher at your place?"

"Nope. Kitchen's too small."

Back on the couch, we read some more and watched more TV. I wanted to reach out to him. I wanted more.

Down boy, down.

Kendry squirmed a little after dinner. Once he got up to use the bathroom. When he came back, he squirmed even more.

"Are you comfortable?" I asked. "Would you like a pillow?"

"I'm fine. But?—"

"But what?"

"I know it might be too much. I mean, I just like being with you. You're not a daddy, I know, but could I hold your hand sometimes? Maybe?"

My entire body seemed to sag in relief. I wanted to shout. Yes! He could hold my hand any time. Instead, I kept my calm.

"You can do that any time."

He reached out and placed his palm against my wrist. I turned my hand until we were palm to palm. Automatically, our fingers wove together. His smooth knuckles rubbed against mine. His fingernails were short and even and I rubbed my thumb over his little finger from the tip to the last knuckle. He squeezed my hand as if he liked it, so I continued the gentle, slow stroking.

The TV droned but I didn't hear a word of it.

Kendry spoke softly and I missed what he said.

"What, honey?" I didn't realize I'd said the endearment until after it escaped my mouth.

"Why did you come in the littles room that first night?"

"You know why. I needed a break. Everything was becoming too much."

"Like overwhelming?"

"Exactly."

"Don't you like kink anymore?"

"I still do. Yes."

"Did someone hurt you?"

"Not recently. But, yes, I've been hurt in the past."

"Me, too." Kendry said the words so softly I almost didn't understand them.

"Recently?"

"My last daddy was a rough one. It lasted two nights. Barely."

I blinked, not quite understanding.

"I wasn't attached to him, so it wasn't that."

"He hurt you physically?"

Kendry sat very still, not answering.

"You don't have to tell me," I encouraged.

"He—he liked to put his fingers around my throat. I'm not into that sort of play and I told him, but he didn't hear me. And he seemed to forget I was there, just calling me boy toy and much worse. I don't mind words, but I don't like being pressed on or roughly pushed and pulled."

His confession was a big one.

"That wasn't nice at all," I said.

"Nope. I walked out and didn't care that he called me bad names or ruined my favorite bear, Clovis. And the daddies before that just got bored. I like being little a lot, like all the time sometimes. But they didn't like being daddies that way. I'm a little confused, I guess."

"What about?"

"If daddies are what I want, then I don't know. Maybe I thought being a daddy was something else?"

"I think everyone is different and you maybe met a few who weren't compatible."

"Maybe." He squeezed my hand again. "Did you think I was shy?"

"I suppose. I thought you might be an ace little."

"Ace? I'm not sure. I've heard of it but I'm foggy on what it actually means."

I didn't want to tell him I'd overheard two daddies talking about him and saying that word.

"It means you don't always want sex in a relationship, if at all."

"Oh, well, I'm not that. But sometimes I don't want it. Does that make me that word?"

"I would say no."

"In the club, the guys move really fast. I know why. I know the club is about kink and sex usually comes along for the ride. I thought something was wrong with me when I wanted different stuff."

"Different like how?"

"Like playing. Like, you know."

"Can you be more specific?" I asked.

"Like reading and playing games and stuff. The daddies I met would play, but it was sexual play like ninety percent of the time. It makes me feel like I'm not one of them, like not a real guy if I don't want the same all the time. I feel fake. Not a fake little, but not a real boy, either."

I listened, entranced. Finally, Kendry was opening up.

"I found a corner in the room," he continued. "I wanted to come to the club. I liked that I could be little and not get strange looks. It does feel like my crowd. But also, at the same time, not. I know probably none of this is making any sense, is it?" He looked up at me the way I'd grown to love, big eyes with long lashes.

"It makes perfect sense. You go where you can be yourself and feel comfortable. That does not require you to have sex with every man you meet."

"Do you?"

I frowned a question. "Do I what?"

"Have sex with every man you meet?"

"Well—"

Suddenly, his cheeks darkened. He glanced away, his hand going slack in mine, pulling away and resting in his lap. "I'm sorry. That was way too personal."

"Well, we are talking about personal stuff." I leaned my head on the couch back. "I used to. I was wild in my twenties." I peeked over at him. He was still staring up at me, rapt. "When I was your age I would be flattered by a smile and want more. It was sexy and fun and I craved it all the time. I learned about kink clubs and couldn't wait to get memberships. It was only a few weeks ago that my friend Errol introduced me to The Red Door."

"You aren't a regular?"

I shook my head no.

"I thought it would be sort of neat, too, the clubs. I was all curious when I first joined. I was terrified of doing anything public, though. You know, other than being little."

"Like taking off your clothes?" I asked.

He nodded. "Did you?"

"Hell, yeah. I did everything at least once. I had to make sure if I liked it or not."

"So you try twice?" He laughed.

"Yep."

"You did everything but try being a daddy."

He got me. "That's true."

"You don't have to be that if you don't want. But you have maybe a daddy-ish vibe that I like."

I leaned forward. "Tell me more."

"I didn't mean you are. It's just a vibe. I would never tell you to be that."

"I'm a curious sort, though. A Red Door member now. Talk to me about it, if you don't mind."

"Only if you don't mind," he said.

"I just consented."

"Okay, well." He put his hand to his chin, making a fist and leaning on it. "It's more than just the size thing, right?"

I nodded, encouraging him.

He went on. "It's a feeling. Like you care. And I mean in that daddy vibe-ish way."

"I need more. If you're referring to dinner and the reading we've done, I'd do that for anyone I liked."

"That's true." Kendry squinted, closing one eye as if thinking harder. "Being attentive and caring isn't just for daddies. The daddies I've known like to be dominant and call me boy. They get off on the little stuff, too, like what I wear, and sometimes my toys. Or bath time. Or diapers, which as a six year old I don't wear. Or punishment. Or tears. It's often sexual, but not always. That's not exactly what I'm talking about with you, though. Your vibe is very supportive and accepting, like you're there for me and you don't mind my little at all."

"No, I don't mind him at all," I repeated, smiling. I knew all that about daddies, but I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted him to talk about how he was relating to me.

"Obviously, you didn't try the little scene because that wasn't what you were attracted to. But to me you have the vibe because of your great understanding. I don't know exactly how to put it, but I don't think you have to be attracted to the scene to be attracted to one person." He lowered his head and both hands now hid his face. "I can't believe I just said that!"

"So you're saying my vibe toward you feels like a daddy vibe to you even though I'm not?"

"Yeah."

"Because I'm focused on you and attentive to you."

"Yeah." He spoke both words with his fingers still splayed over his face.

"Some people are looking for a scene and some are looking for more," I said. "The scene is like a play. The ‘more' is real. The vibe can come from just being compatible, comfortable, and cared about."

"Exactly." His voice had grown softer and a little higher. He still wouldn't look directly at me.

"That's brilliant. You're very mature for a six-year-old." I laughed.

Kendry peered between his fingers at me, probably to see if I was teasing or serious. When I winked at him, he joined in my laughter.

To let him fully know I wasn't laughing at him, I said, "Two people who care give each other what they need as long as it is consenting and doesn't cause hurt. That's what I believe."

"That's a good way of putting it," Kendry said.

"So you believe it, too?"

"I do." He stared at his lap.

"Maybe we get so caught up in roles, we think we need to be only with one type of person when there are so many variations."

Slowly, he raised his head and faced me. "Maybe."

I didn't want to push him too hard right now. This was only our second evening together outside the club. Plus, our conversation had my mind swirling and almost giddy. I had been guilty of looking for more long-term relationships from people who were not looking for that. I had thought kink would bond us.

It boggled my mind how easily we humans put ourselves in narrow boxes and didn't bother to glance outside those containers. We could often miss a whole other world out there if we didn't open our eyes and wake up.

"Kendry," I said. "I'd love to see you more. Make this—" I motioned between us with a wave of my hand, "a thing. Between us. That is, if you would like it, too."

"I would."

When he finally looked at me again, his face glowed. His cheeks were plump from his huge smile. His eyes gleamed, the lashes flickering.