Chapter 2
Preston
My friend Charles met me in my firm’s parking garage.
It was almost dark out, the sky beyond the cement overhang a pale pink color that caused a lump in my throat.
Why that reaction? I wasn’t sad or depressed.
But something inside me felt trapped. Like I’d been wanting to take big breath for a long time but couldn’t.
Maybe tonight had me slightly excited.
We’d made plans to drive to his favorite kink club, once my favorite, too. I’d been there a lot when I was younger. We both wanted to take our own cars and park side by side which was why he was meeting me now.
I wasn’t new to kink at all. I’d dabbled a lot in college and law school.
But after I’d gotten a prestigious job at a big city firm, I’d stopped doing that and focused more on my career.
I hadn't really found what I'd wanted in a real relationship during my wilder youthful days.
But neither had I found it in the vanilla world.
For the past ten years, I’d wandered from boyfriend to boyfriend, never keeping one for longer than a couple months. Something inside me longed for something more than they were giving.
Charles suggested I return to kink. He’d never stopped his kink behaviors and when he discovered I was less than content in my personal life, he kept bugging me to go back.
It was nearly full dark when we pulled into the club’s parking lot. It was as I remembered it. The building was large with no windows. The entrance sported a simple red door. If anyone drove by without knowing the area they would think it was just another warehouse in the downtown district.
Charles walked up to the door and knocked. There was a pause before it opened. Music poured out into the street. The doorman quickly let us in. Always discreet.
We showed our ID's and paid. It wasn't cheap and there was a reason.
Once you passed the coat check there was a massive open space with men of all shapes, sizes and ages meeting, talking and roaming about.
A bar took up the entire far wall. There was a line of people waiting for drinks.
Tables, booths and benches surrounded a large dance floor full of men in various states of dress, all having what looked like a good time.
Memories came back to me. I remembered my first time here. It seemed like the world had just opened up. It was a place where anything could happen with anyone. The excitement was a high better than any I'd ever known.
As Charles and I walked toward the bar, faces turned to stare at the new couple. Gazes lingered on me. I was the only one in a suit and I had already known that might get attention.
When I was young, I'd slowly accumulated some cheap leather chaps, a harness, studded boots and other things to wear when I attended these clubs.
All that stuff still existed in boxes on a shelf in the top of my closet.
Charles had called me at the last minute.
I hadn't had time to change out of my work clothes, let alone get that old stuff out and look it over.
The alcohol mixed with men's cologne on the air brought back even more memories.
How much prep I used to do before an evening out.
Waxing, tanning, hairstyles that flattered my thick dark locks.
I used to work out a little, too, mostly to keep myself in shape and not to become bigger than I already was.
I was six-three with broad shoulders but slender muscles, leaner more than bulging. I never had a problem finding dates.
Now it all came rushing back to me. I was older now. Married to my law career. I had a good position and enjoyed it. With mostly vanilla boyfriends and little time off, I'd admittedly neglected my personal life. And my fantasies.
As I looked around, I realized how much I had changed. The excitement in my early twenties had reduced to levels of boredom. I wasn't sure what I wanted and I certainly felt a little awkward in the moment.
Charles must have noticed. He nudged my upper arm and said, “Let's get a few drinks in you.”
I rolled my eyes. “And then what?”
“And then we'll see where it all leads. All work and no play, right?”
“You think it's time I let loose a little.”
“I know it is.”
I followed him to the bar and we stood in a fast-moving line. When we got to the front I ordered a beer only to have Charles interrupt and order us both screwdrivers.
“Beer is boring," was his comment.
“Fine.” Maybe he was right. Plus, I did like any drink with orange juice in it.
“Do you even remember the last time you were here?” he asked, voice raised to be heard over the din of industrial dance music.
“Maybe ten years ago.”
“Things have changed a bit. It's fancier. They've added on.”
“Really?”
“I'll show you around.”
The bar and dance floor were bigger than I remembered, upgraded. From the amount of people here on a Friday night I guessed the club was doing quite well. If they could afford to add on and spruce up, they were definitely making a hefty profit.
We walked around the dance floor admiring some of the beautiful bodies, some topless, some sweating in hot leather from head to toe. There were lots of piercings and tattoos. Some nice revealing G strings. Guys with muscles that defied logic.
Back in the day visions like that would have me instantly aroused.
I was always ready to experiment and explore.
Some things I liked and some I didn't. And as I got older one of the things I didn't like was a blatant casualness that permeated the edges of sweat-drenched flesh and hot, pupil-blown eyes.
The kink community was like a family if you were in the in-crowd.
Hugs, laughter, parties that spilled out into the night and on to private dwellings to keep the party going for hours and to the next day.
Families took care of each other. The sex was great.
But a lot of that time period ended in a fog for me and I couldn't allow that if I was going to concentrate on my studies and eventually get into law school.
Charles and I made our way through the crowd to a series of long hallways that led to large private rooms. The place definitely had grown. The rooms were huge and the halls went on seemingly forever. The club had taken over the entire big building.
We stopped to admire an elaborate whipping room.
Posts, chains, ropes, Saint Andrews crosses.
Men moaning, beautiful bodies streaked with pink welts.
I'd been there. I've done that. A shiver came over my skin as my body remembered.
Some people took to that innately well. They talked about subspace and pain being like a drug.
I had found it difficult for my mind to go to those places.
A couple times I tried being a Dom but that didn't do a thing for me.
We moved on, peeking into orgy rooms where everyone looked like they were having a good time, then a room full of bare bottoms being spanked. That give me a tiny thrill. Something inside me stirred. I definitely liked the spanking a lot better than the flogging.
“Want to go in?” Charles grinned.
“Maybe save it for when the tour is over. I do like watching.”
“I remember.”
We moved on.
Charles led me to an area that was all new to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
There was a room with a blue door. The door was painted with colorful balloons floating up into a full moon surrounded by stars. It looked completely out of place here.
“It's one of the additions from a few years ago. It's the littles room.”
“Littles?”
“You don't know the term? It's where daddies can hang out with their boys.”
“Ohh. I'm familiar with daddy/boy. I never explored it. And I never heard their boys referred to as littles.”
“I’m thinking that term became popular in the last decade. I guess you've been gone for a while.”
“I guess so.”
“The little’s room is a playroom. The boys can do the things they want to do in a safe space without feeling self-conscious or needy for things they weren't finding here with their daddies back in the day.”
“That's nice. In my time it was more like a size thing or maybe an age gap for a lot of the daddies and boys. I didn't really get into that play so I didn't think about what littles might want to do instead of having sexy times in any of the kink rooms.”
Charles walked up to a big window that overlooked the room. “See for yourself.”
My first impression was of a children's library.
There were fairy tale murals on the walls and shelves filled with stuffed animals and cars and other toys.
One section had books and fluffy comfy reading chairs.
Another wall was lined with couches and a long low table.
Men sat back watching the scene. They all had the look I remembered. Daddies.
The boys or, rather, littles were coloring at low tables or were playing on big colorful rugs. The room was clean and well-lit. A really cute space.
I was just about to turn away, my interest fading, when I saw a young man in pink overalls furiously coloring with a red crayon, his tongue peeking out the side of his mouth. He had blonde hair and a small physique.
I turned back for a better look. Charles stood patiently waiting.
Why had this little caught my attention? He looked way too young for me, though to get into the club he had to be at least twenty-one.
I surveyed the daddies sitting on the couch again. Laughing, talking, their eyes roving over their boys. But no one ever looked at the one in the pink. I wondered if he was alone. As soon as I had that thought, my heart began to rev up.
I turned to Charles. “I think I might want to go in there for a little while.”
“Yeah? Sure. I'll just wander. Text me, okay?”
I was already opening the door with my free hand, trying not to spill my drink.