Page 2 of Snuggle Bug

BJ busies himself with play, rubbing his hands on his coveralls before he moves the toys around, creating an imaginary construction yard that seems as ridiculous as the dumb grin on his face.

At least BJ is cute when he drives me nuts. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to stand him.

I let go of all my concerns as I melt into Greyson’s body. He holds me. Just holds me. His thick, cozy arms envelop me in a bubble of safety, protecting me from all the scaries that exist in the outside world.

This is what I love most about Greyson. He understands exactly what I need when I need it, when it’s time to comfort me with a hug, or give me a peanut butter-and-banana sandwich after a tough day at school. I failed senior year last year, so I’m enrolled in online classes to get my GED. Studying is tricky for me, so Greyson is always there at the end of the day to set me on his lap, feed me a yummy sandwich that he cuts into triangles, and tell me that I’m smart and perfect the way I am. Even if I have trouble grasping complex topics like grammar, he still makes me feel great. Prepositions, pronouns, and direct objects all suck. The rules were written for people way smarter than me.

If only Greyson knew how ready I was for all of his affection.

"Look, Daddy." Taking Greyson’s hand, I bring it between my legs. My eyes scrunch shut as I rub his fingers on my wee, letting him feel my length. "It’s hard."

Greyson keeps his hand on my bits, but he doesn’t unbutton my onesie to take my wee out. "You’re not ready, sweet boy. Someday, you will be. Today’s not that day."

"I’m a big boy." My whispered voice comes out as a sniffle, and tears burn my eyes. "An adult. I’ve been eighteen for almost a whole year."

I’m not freshly eighteen like I was when we first met. Back then, Greyson took great care not to even hug me without my permission. We’ve come a long way since then, but we still have quite a ways to go.

"Eighteen is still too young to give your most precious gift to your Daddy. I’m waiting for your own sake, baby boy. You need to be positive that I’m the man you want to give your virginity to. Let’s hold off a little longer. Until you’re not so young."

"Please." I’m begging now. Oh gods, tell me how I’ve been reduced to this lowly state. "I need you, Daddy. You’re perfect in every way, and I know you’ll take care of me in the bedroom, too. You’ll never let me down. You’ll treasure me the same as you do when our clothes are on. Treating me with respect and love. Tenderness. Compassion."

Because Greyson hasn’t taken this next step yet, I always feel like there’s something wrong with me. He lets me know that there’s not, but my emotions play with my brain. With all this waiting, I don’t feel as desirable as he wants me to believe.

Greyson removes his hand from my parts and issues me a stern look. "I said no. I’ll have to leave you to play with BJ if you keep asking."

I hold back tears as I bury my face in Greyson’s chest, because I don't want him to leave or think I’m not respecting his boundaries.

I wish he saw me for the man I am. I have a Little side, but that’s not all of me.

Okay, Daddy. If you say so. I pray that someday soon, you’ll know that I’m ready for all of your love.

Greyson

I’m letting my boy down.

I grip my glass of scotch a bit too tightly as I stand in the back of the Hug Club, surveying the scene. Boys, pups, kittens, Littles, and Masters frolic together, each trying new activities that you wouldn’t think they’d enjoy due to their differences. Pups in gear chase toy mice with kittens, because who said that pups can’t try out kitten activities, too? Leather Daddies in form-fitting gear bend their boys over their knees and massage their bums, because spanking is rare here.

Discipline isn’t our cup of tea. If you’re into that, better to head to one of the other clubs in New York. There are plenty to choose from.

At the Hug Club, gentle activities reign supreme. Snuggle movie nights. The group hug every other Saturday where each member puts aside their arbitrary differences and embraces their fellow members is the best.

I was lucky to join the Hug Club when I did. The members speak to the caring Daddy side of me, and welcome me with open arms, even with all my quirks.

The Club is perfect for my precious baby boy, too. Calloway is his best self when he’s here with his friends. We love the cuddle room, where we always go after a long afternoon of playtime on the weekends so we can read storybooks together, build towers with blocks, and watch animated movies. When our friends join us, that’s even better. The more the merrier, that’s what I say.

Calloway needs more from me and I’m not sure I can give him what he wants.

Wren walks to my side. "You’re not playing with your boy."

"Not tonight."

"Why not?"

"I need a moment to think."

Wren’s brows furrow. "Everything is okay between you and Calloway, right?"

Wren and I, along with a few other close friends, founded the Hug Club five years ago after the city forced Jako, another one of our members, to shut down his playroom in Brooklyn.