Page 10 of Their Little House Boston (Five Little Roommates #3)

Tripp

After my last trip to Chained, I’d decided not to go for a while, but when several of my friends decided to make an evening of it, I let them talk me into coming.

There were often single littles who would like a daddy to play with.

The other night there had been several, but they didn’t approach me, and I wasn’t interested in them anyway.

But I’d often found someone more compatible and if not, I’d hang out in the conversation area and visit.

Preferable to watching everyone else have fun in the little room while I was alone.

Tonight, there were no special events going on, just an ordinary evening, or as ordinary as things ever got at Chained.

Club members were free to come any night, and they could bring guests as long as they got them approved ahead of time.

Privacy was very important to many people there, some of whom were quite prominent figures in the local community.

In a few cases, they qualified as celebrities, and their membership or even presence there could cause them great damage if it were made public.

I had seen these people there, enjoying the privacy and freedom Chained allowed them.

The chance to be themselves away from the cameras and gossip of their daily lives.

Even I could appreciate that because my clientele might not understand my private life.

Then again, as an insurance guy, I knew a lot about them, and some of their choices were hard for me to grasp.

As long as adults treated one another with kindness, though, it was not for me to judge.

The world was full of many people, each of us with our own needs and desires.

I met up with Bridger and the others in the conversation area where they were sharing one of the big/little appetizer platters with their littles. The delicious tidbits helped raise my mood, as did the single whiskey I allowed myself on a night when I was likely to play.

I leaned back on the comfortable leather sofa and listened to daddy talk, my like-minded friends telling amusing stories about both their daddy selves and their day-to-day existence.

I was more relaxed than I’d been in a long time when I suddenly spotted the guy who’d been so intriguing to me the other night.

This time, I didn’t have to surmise whether he was little.

He was with that other guy again. Another little was sitting with him at a table, and they were sipping at sodas and speaking, heads close together.

I enjoyed watching them, seeing how the first man seemed to care about his friend, speaking in a soothing tone and patting his hand.

Perhaps it was the second man’s first time here?

He certainly looked nervous, and I wondered if they would be going to play later.

They’d gone to the trouble to dress, but that made them more unusual.

Littles, at least those wearing their little clothes, generally went straight to the little room, unless they were accompanied by their daddies like Hudson with Bridger and Austen who was here with his daddy, Clark.

These two continued to talk for a few minutes while sipping their drinks.

Their serious expressions made me think they were not in little headspace, yet, and it also had me turning away.

Despite being intrigued, I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable because I was staring.

It would be unkind, and littles on their own were particularly vulnerable.

Although I was attempting to focus on the conversation at the table, and I wasn’t looking directly at them, I couldn’t help but notice when they walked past us in the direction of the hallway leading to the little room.

“So, are you busy at this time of year?” Clark asked. “I always imagine insurance to be something people are interested in buying during the darker months. It’s just so beautiful out there, now.”

“It’s not totally predictable, and I haven’t made a study of it or looked up the statistics, I think summer is the quietest time. At least for me. Open enrollment in the late fall is a busy time for health insurance, but the other types vary a little more.” Littles and insurance, my best topics.

We all chatted for a few more minutes while the littles demolished the little side of the tray and half of the big part. Hudson fell over on his back, patting his stomach. “Daddy, I think I ate too much.”

Bridger studied his face. “My poor boy. Do you want to go home and rest?”

He popped up, scrambling to his feet. “No, I’m okay. I was just kidding.”

“Crying wolf,” his daddy intoned. “I think maybe we should go home, just in case you really are a little sickie.”

“No, please,” Hudson whined. “I’m all better now. Can’t we go to the little room just for a while?”

“You are for sure okay?”

“I’m better now.” He grabbed his daddy’s hand. “But we’d better play now just in case.”

“All right, my best boy.” Bridger stood up and allowed his little to tow him away. “Anyone else coming?”

It seemed they all were, and I let the flow of the crowd take me along with them into the little room.

“Maybe you’ll find someone to play with this time,” Bridger said when I caught up with them.

“You never can tell.”