Chapter Four
Itake it all back: taking on this project is the best life choice I’ve ever made. Is it still a cheesy Christmas-themed porn shoot? Yes. But it has introduced Miles into my life and, yeah, it has only been a handful of minutes so far, but I’m excited about getting to know him.
This kind of spark —this kind of connection— hasn’t happened for me in longer than I’d like to admit. Things were getting stagnant. I was getting tired of it. Bored, even.
Then a hot-as-fuck sub stumbled into my porn scene, and it feels like a Christmas miracle. Especially because he wants to call me Daddy. At his own damn suggestion!
Maybe I crashed my car on my way here and this is all just a coma fantasy.
Honestly? If that’s the case, leave my machines plugged in and don’t bother trying to wake me up. I’m happy here.
I didn’t know about my reputation at The Grove, though I should have guessed that the subs would compare notes about who they thought were the best doms to trust with their needs.
It is flattering to hear that I was right up there with the best of them, and even more flattering to think that this muscular, gorgeous younger man was so taken by me that he was too shy to request a scene.
I just hope that I don’t disappoint him today.
If I had my way, I would take him somewhere secluded and give him a show with all the bells and whistles. I’d make him writhe and pant and beg —at which point I would spank him for breaking my ‘no begging’ rule— and then give him the most dedicated aftercare he’s ever had in his life.
I’m talking cleaning him up gently and carefully, getting him dressed into loose, soft clothes, snuggling with him and discussing the things he enjoyed about the scene, and the ways he might want to change it if we did it all again.
I’m talking about making sure he’s properly hydrated, or that he takes a nap if he needs one.
Getting him food if he’s snackish, or doing whatever his go-to comfort activities are with him.
Being the best damn Daddy I can, basically.
Because while he might not be into regression, he was very specific about wanting not just a Dom, but a Daddy Dom.
There’s a certain extra expectation of nurturing that comes with the title, regardless of whether the sub in question sinks into a younger headspace or not.
He wants a Daddy to take care of him just as badly as he wants to be dominated, and I love that he’s open about that.
I love a man who knows what he wants.
I also love that what he wants aligns nicely with what I want, too.
Even if it is only for today’s scene, though I try not to let that thought bring me down. Not when my gut is telling me that this could be the start of something special if only I let it happen at its own pace.
For all that Miles knows what he wants, he still seems a bit skittish.
It could be the nerves about this being his first ever experience filming porn, but I think it’s more than that.
The surprise of recognizing me —and the cute awkwardness of confessing his ‘club crush’— probably hasn’t helped, either.
But then…he’s paid to be here, and so am I. I’m sure his crush is legit, his body’s reactions and his discomfort are too real to be anything other than that, but maybe he’s concerned that I’m only playing with him because that’s what I signed up for.
“Don’t be nervous,” I tell him, smiling warmly. “You look perfect, and the camera is going to love you. You’ve got this, and I’m here if you need to safe word out, okay?”
He does seem to settle a bit, a sweet blush rising to his cheeks. “Thanks. I’m, uh, I’m looking forward to doing this scene with you.”
My stomach swoops a little at how earnest he sounds and I open my mouth to flirt in return, but then Jake calls for our attention.
Break time is apparently over, and now it’s showtime.
***
After running through the general process for Miles’s benefit, reassuring our newbie that we do take breaks to clean up, hydrate, and let our bodies recover for the next round, Jake gives us some idea of the positions he wants to see us in, and the overall tone for the scene.
He looks over at me with a wry smirk. “That last shoot we did together was a hit, but people asked for more ‘connection’ after that one. So maybe try to go softer and slower. I mean, it is Christmas, guys. Let’s make some sweet and sexy holiday love for the people, hmm?
Apparently romance isn’t dead. Who knew? ”
It's a rhetorical question and we all take our places at his barked command. I blow a kiss to Ricky, one of the two camera guys, as I saunter past to stand behind the fake door. He’s straight, as far as I’m aware, but always captures the most flattering angles with his footage.
He raises his middle finger towards me right before Jake settles back into his chair and yells “Action!”
Nobody’s had the heart to tell Jake that this isn’t Hollywood. He pays so well that it feels cruel to take that from him.
After fixing my silly red hat and grabbing the matching big, red bag of fake presents, I knock on the door and wait only a few seconds before it swings inwards. Leaning casually inside the false doorframe, I give Miles a moment to exaggeratedly look me over from head-to-toe and then back again.
“Santa,” he breathes with what sounds like giddy delight. He widens his eyes and bats his lashes. “What a big sack you have! What’s in there for me?”
With the rolling of the cameras, I can’t give in to the bark of startled laughter that threatens to burst from my chest. He was all cute and awkward only a few minutes ago, but now…now he’s confident and, if I’m not mistaken, a little bratty.
There’s definitely a glint of challenge in his pretty blue eyes.
“Actually, Miles,” I drop the bag carelessly to the ground, but his gaze stays planted on mine, “you’re on the naughty list this year.”
He gasps, grabbing the lapels of my jacket to tug me forward. The door swings shut behind me just before he shoves me back against it, thankfully not so hard as to rattle the whole set.
“Oh no, Santa,” he affects a sultry pleading tone, running his fingertips over my chest teasingly, “I’m not a naughty boy.” He starts to sink to his knees on the faux-hardwood floor, beseeching, “Can I show you how nice I can be?”
It feels very much like the rug has been pulled out from underneath me. I went into this expecting to have to lead the scene, to coach him through nerves about performing on camera, but Miles has taken me completely by surprise here.
My cock loves his confidence, even while I ache to discipline the playful brattiness and challenge right out of him.
Carding my fingers into his dark hair, I marvel briefly at its softness. The generic ‘more on top’ style suits him, but it doesn’t look like it would feel as silky as it does, slipping between my digits.
I yank his head back just enough to tilt his chin upwards, and I grin at the flash of need in his expression.
He’s so responsive…
“You have to work really hard if you want me to call you a good boy, Miles.” I tell him.
Bless him, he takes the obvious pun and runs with it, “I like it when things are really hard, Santa.”
“I’ll bet you do.”
The cheeky fucker winks at me.
Oh, it is on!
My fingers curl in his hair, tightening their grip, tugging just enough to make those pretty blue eyes widen with more genuine surprise and a hint of pain.
Good.
“Undo my belt,” I demand.
“Yes, D—Santa.”
I feel myself twitch at the slip of his tongue, and I am already so fucking done being ‘Santa’, it isn’t even funny. I want to hear the right word falling from those plump, pink lips of his. “What did you almost call me?”
His throat works convulsively, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I…”
“Miles.” Fuck, but I love the way his pupils dilate when I say his name in that authoritative tone. He loves it, I can tell. A quick glance down at the darkening patch of red towel-like fabric over his crotch confirms it. I double down. “Say it. Say what you really want to call me.”
“Oh fuck,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushing pink.
Finally, the dynamic feels the way I expected it to, but now I know to watch out for his sass. He’s going to keep me on my toes today; I can feel it.
“Say it.” I pull just a touch harder on his hair and he moans.
“Daddy,” the title comes out on a needy rush of air. “B-because you’re Father Christmas…and you look like a Daddy.”
My dick goes from already interested to straining for attention instantly.
It’s all I can do to bite back the praise he would enjoy so much.
We can’t rush this. Namely because it would be the most disappointing porn flick ever if we did, but also because I don’t want to rush this.
I want to draw it out. To see just how much teasing Miles can take.
“That’s what I thought,” I say, then jerk my chin downwards. “Didn’t I tell you to undo my belt?”
“Yes, Daddy.” His fingers scramble for the buckle, working as quickly as he can to obey the command. Once it’s undone, he sits back on his heels and waits for further instruction.
Perfect.
“Take it off and get my dick out.”
The flush to his cheeks seems to brighten, but his movements are sure and steady as he slips the belt free of the pant loops and then drops it to the floor. His eyes meet mine and stay there as he unbuttons the pants and draws down the zipper.
I swear my cock actually springs free with a bouncy sound effect the moment it gets a run at freedom, but my gaze is locked on his.
When he doesn’t immediately reach for my erection, I nod with satisfaction. “Good.”
Miles whines, clearly expecting the other half of the statement.
“Open your mouth,” I tell him, inching my hips forward when he greedily complies, “but do not suck.”
There’s disbelief in those beautiful baby blues now, and that only makes me harder.
I groan as I slide between those parted lips, though. Miles’s mouth feels every bit as perfect as it looks. He keeps his jaw lax while I slowly rock my length in and out of the warm, wet space he’s offering, but I can see how badly he wants to close his lips around me.
“Uh-uh,” I waggle my index finger at him when he presses the heel of his palm down against his own crotch. “Boys who want to get on Santa’s nice list need to wait for permission to touch themselves.”
He whines again, this time squirming a bit.
“No, Miles.”
He goes rigid, cheeks impossibly pink. There’s a hint of panic in his eyes, along with embarrassment.
During our debrief with Jake, I reminded Miles that standard safe word rules still apply, and if he needs to tap out all he has to do is say ‘red’ or ‘red light’.
He’s experienced enough with club play that I trust he will do exactly that if he needs to.
Still, this is our first time together, and I wouldn’t be a good Daddy —or Dom, for that matter— if I didn’t check in.
“You okay? You’ve got permission to speak right now.”
He pulls back from my cock and nods. “I’m good, Daddy.
Just…” Glancing away, he startles only a little when he seems to recall exactly where we are, but I don’t think the jolt in the set of his shoulders would be noticeable to anyone other than me.
Swallowing roughly, he looks back up, “I…almost came.”
I’d thought he was exaggerating earlier about being on a hair-trigger, but the surge of pride and desire I feel at being responsible for taking him to the edge so quickly is something else.
My dick twitches, a dribble of the proof of how arousing Miles’s admission is taking us both a little by surprise.
I watch as his gaze tracks the fluid as it slips from my head and down my shaft.
“Lick that up,” I demand, then moan as he does.
It takes a ridiculous amount of effort to remind myself that I have a job to do here. That we’re roleplaying for the cameras.
Clearing my throat, my voice comes out gruff when I say, “You have to tell me when you get too close, Miles. Daddy doesn’t want you to make a mess in your jammies. Not on Christmas Eve.”
There, back on track. Kind of.
“I need to get back on your nice list,” he nods, once again pulling back from my dick, this time with even more reluctance than before. Then his lips curl and the defiance from earlier is back. “Unless you prefer naughty boys, Daddy?”
Oh. My. Fucking. God.