CHAPTER NINE Danny
CHAPTER NINE
Danny
“Uh…” I started nervously as Killjoy pushed around eggs in a cast-iron skillet.
It was filled with bacon grease, and while it smelled divine, I didn’t understand how the man could eat like that and look the way he did.
There was no workout equipment in this place.
It wasn’t like I had to go snooping to find that out because I could literally stand in one corner of the house and shoot my load in the other corner. That was how small the cabin was.
Maybe that was what he did out in that big shed-slash-garage. He just spent all day, sweating and pumping iron and…
I subconsciously bit my lip as the hot images flashed through my head, some eighties metal playing in the background. And of course, there was magical fog rolling through the devious fantasy.
He looked up, brow raised as if asking me ‘what’ without speaking.
Right, I needed to ask him something.
“Listen, okay… so…” Ugh, this was hard. It shouldn’t have been.
But, like, this was his house, and I was asking to work in his house.
And it wasn’t like my work was normal stuff.
It involved bodily fluids. While I could put a towel down, it still was kind of weird, or so I imagined for other people.
“Just spit it out, I ain’t got all day to listen to you stumbling over whatever the fuck you’re tryin’a ask.”
He was so grumpy, it made me want to just forget the whole thing.
Instead of letting him get to me, I squared my shoulders. There was no reason I had to flush this whole vacation-slash-work holiday down the drain. If I didn’t ask, I’d never know the answer. Maybe if I was lucky, the answer would be in my favor, and none of this would have to be weird.
“I do cam work,” I told him, putting out there like it was a normal thing, and it was…
to me. Not to a lot of people, and that was a shame.
I wasn’t sure what side of the fence Mr. Killjoy Grumpy Pants would fall on, but it was out there now.
“And I sort of was hoping—well, needing to, really—work while I’m here.
New location, exciting background, stuff like that. ”
I hoped he picked up what I was putting down.
He stared at me, brows furrowed.
Okay, well. It seemed as if he hadn’t grasped what I was getting at.
“You’re a photographer?” he asked, his usually gruff voice now sounded plain confused and lost.
“No, I’m a camboy.” When he looked at me, still utterly perplexed, I had to wonder if I was speaking English. I knew enough German to get by, but not how to say anything about my work. So, I was certain I hadn’t randomly and unknowingly switched to speaking that. “I do porn!”
Yes, I shouted it out in a blurted fashion. But when his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and then he looked me over head to toe, I knew he understood me that time.
His gaze didn’t feel… leery. Not like some men, when they heard I was a naughty boy who liked to make a mess of himself in front of the camera.
To be fair, I never really felt that way about it, but I knew how people saw me and others in my line of work.
However, he was looking me over in more of an appreciative and very curious way.
Almost, dare I say, respectfully. It had me nearly bit a hole thought my cheek as I waited for him to say something in response.
I saw the moment it dawned on him. You know, the whole reason why I was bringing this up.
“You need to work, is that what you’re sayin’?”
I let out a shaky breath because, holy crap, if his gaze was this searing when I had my clothes on, I could only imagine what it would be like to stand in front of him naked.
I mean, not like that was going to be happening. I was hoping I could work while he was out doing his thing all day.
“Yes. No. Kind of. I hadn’t really thought about this being someone else’s place when I planned the whole trip.
Not that I was going to paint the walls with my cum and leave it there, right?
But I get that it’s still kind of…” I trailed off and bit my lip.
If I wasn’t mistaken, he looked shocked.
I would have sworn his cheeks were tinted pink, but it was hard to tell with his beard and all.
“I could, like, cover things with a sheet… or maybe a trash bag.” Though that didn’t seem sexy to me.
My lame suggestion was met with a deeper look of confusion.
This was one of those moments when I was too much, and people didn’t understand me. Yeah, I’d had quite a few of those in my time. I needed to slow it down, maybe do some swift backtracking, and perhaps change my approach.
Or run.
Yep, running was good.
“Hold up,” he said, hand going in the air as if to put me on pause. I bit my bottom lip again and waited. “One thing at a time. You do porn?”
“Yes.” I nodded and sent him a forced smile. No teeth. And I knew my eyes didn’t light up like usual. It was because I was nervous and didn’t know how this was going to go.
“And you want to do some work while you’re here?”
The tightness in my smile melted, making it become more real. Still no teeth, but there was happiness there. He said “work” like there wasn’t anything illicit to it. He didn’t choke on the word or put a devious tone to it. He didn’t emphasize it as if it were silly to even call it that.
My heart stupidly fluttered, and I hated myself for sinking into that feeling for just a second.
“Yes?” he said, snapping me out of my little melty moment.
“Y-yes,” I replied, nodding like a bobble head.
He opened his mouth, only to close it a few seconds later. The crease between his brow became a crevasse again, and I was dying to know what was going through his head.
“Okay, yeah.”
“Yeah?” I blurted out, totally shocked.
“Yeah. I mean, you’ve got to work, and I get it. Just make sure you clean up. Uh, I’ve got some sanitizer wipes under the sink… and, okay, I’m gonna go.”
He shook his head as if shaking away a fly in his ear. Then he practically bolted for the back door.
“What about breakfast?” I called out, reaching over and flicking off the knob for the burner. The eggs looked a little on the rubbery side, and I said a mental “oops.”
“You can have it,” he rushed to say. “If you want it.” He slipped out the back door without looking at me. “Uh, have a good day at work. Uh, er. Working.”
The door closed with a rattle, and I was left blinking at his back while he rushed to throw on his jacket and boots in the mudroom. Then he was gone, traipsing through the snow with body language that said he’d rather be running.
“You too,” I said as I sagged against the counter. I knew he couldn’t hear me, but the vibes were out there at least. Maybe they’d catch up to him.
I wished I knew what that had been about. He didn’t seem like my work was something to freak out over, but he did freak about something.
“Whatever,” I whispered and picked up a clump of eggs. Yeah, those weren’t getting eaten.
I showered. Prepped and plugged, to keep me open until I was ready. Dried off thoroughly and styled my hair.
I set up my camera in the bathroom because I thought the promo called for a shower shot.
And then I focused on the less glorified part of my job. The things that had to be faked, and I hate it.
I liked the realness. Maybe I didn’t like all my little flaws, but I wasn’t going to hide them from the camera, from my people. I also didn’t like over-the-top fake scenes, which was why I tried my hardest not to go down that road. There was always ninety percent of me in everything I made.
But this shower was going to be cold, and I had to pretend it was nice and warm. There was no other way to do it. Steam may be sexy, but not if it fogged up the shots and messed with the lens. Made it kind of pointless then.
This would make for a good face shot, which was what I was going for since they didn’t want to actually show me using the product.
I got it, but I was still going to use it and give them my true expression the moment it sank into my ass.
With any luck, I might have nice little fun moment all to myself.
It had been a while since I did it just for me.
Shaking out my arms, I released all the tension of the last couple of days.
Then I let myself get lost in the magical moment I was about to make.