Kit (A Little Christmas Season Three)

Chapter 14

14

Parker

G oing from the employee parking lot into the side entrance of the club, I let Kit carry the Santa sack. It was lightly snowing. I had my fake stomach and beard in another bag, and donned my silvery white wig and cap.

Kit had decided to dress up for the evening. He wore black boots and trousers, a white button up shirt with a dark blue bowtie.

“I want to look like a boy who hopes Santa Claus will notice him out of all the boys in the club,” he said.

I assured him that Santa had already noticed.

“Yeah,” he replied, “but I gotta keep Santa’s attention. There are a lot of cute boys at the club.”

Truthfully, I had the cutest boy of all. And since Kit was mine, for now, my opinion counted most.

In the locker room, Kit helped me get the fake stomach fastened and my trousers up over it. The seamstress had made very baggy drawstring pants just for this purpose. They could be worn with or without the jolly tummy.

The beard went on next. Kit fluffed it up and pressed the mustache into shape.

“Total package,” he commented.

“Ho ho ho.” I patted my stomach.

When it came time for my announced appearance, Kit slipped out the side door near the front.

Next thing I knew, people were cheering. “Here comes Santa!”

I gave my speech and sat on my elaborate throne. I saw a lot of familiar faces around me and in line. But the face I focused on was Kit who perched on a stool at the bar swinging his legs. His smile made his face shine. He met my gaze and lifted his juice drink to toast me. He looked happy and proud.

Then the real work began.

This was the last Christmas party of the season. It was only a few nights before Christmas and people were off work for the holidays. The line was the longest I’d ever seen. The club steamed with hot men in all states of dress.

Carols played but they were industrial enhanced with tempos and beats specific to dance to.

Every size and shape of man sat in my lap and had their picture taken. Some couples came up and took a knee each.

Every few minutes, I checked up on Kit, who sat at the bar watching it all.

I opened my bag and gave away gift after gift. Tonight, it was candy canes and little stuffed bears wearing miniature Santa hats. Everyone wanted one. One of the bouncers assigned to watch over me kept refilling my bag from a supply behind the stage. All the decorations, including the big tree, fogged my vision. I felt like I was in a dream.

When I next looked back at Kit, some leather daddy I didn’t recognize was talking to him. Kit’s body language was hunched in, but he did nod and appear to be speaking to the daddy. I knew his polite stance. A protective tension came over me.

I wanted to get up, but I couldn’t. Another person came to sit on my lap and tell me all the naughty sexy things he wanted in his stocking.

After that photo, I looked back. The leather daddy was gone, and Kit sat alone. He saw me and nodded, giving me a thumbs up. He had been a member here for some time. Of course he could take care of himself. But the urge to protect him remained. He had told me several times he had a bad boy reputation because of one incident. The rougher daddies would be attracted to that and having spent the last few days with him, it was not what his little craved.

Kit quickly absorbed every gentle gesture I gave. He was a boy who was starved for love. I was hungry to give it.

At one point, I looked back at the bar and Kit wasn’t there. I searched the dance floor, the tables, the booths and as far down the hall toward the stairs as I could see. No Kit.

My stomach became filled with knots. It shouldn’t have upset me. He knew his way around. This was his territory as much as mine or anyone else’s.

Grudgingly, I turned my attention to the next customer in line. My eyebrows rose toward the brim of my furry-edged cap. It was Kit.

“Little boy, come sit on Santa’s lap. You look like a very good boy and all ready for Christmas.”

Kit bounced forward, grinning. “I am, Santa.”

He hopped on my lap and all was well as he fit himself into my arms in our familiar way. He smelled of apple juice and his sweet mango shampoo. I couldn’t help flashing back on images of last night, helping him off with his underwear, using my mouth on him. My cock firmed between my legs.

I cuddled him up as he whispered in my ear. “Some of these guys are pawing my Santa. I don’t like it.”

I whispered back. “Who were you talking to at the bar?”

He giggled. “He was my daddy for about two days a year ago. He wanted to know what I’d been doing.”

“He seemed interested in you.”

“He was.” Kit leaned his head on my chest. “I wasn’t.”

“Good.” Louder, to show I remained in character, I said, “And what does this sweet boy want for Christmas?”

“Santa down my chimney any time.”

It sounded dirty. Naughty. But his innocent gaze on mine told me he was sincere. He wanted me.

“The feeling is mutual, baby boy.”

I reached for my bag and handed him a stuffed bear with a Santa hat. He grabbed it and held it to his chest like it was gold.

“Thank you, Santa. Merry Christmas.” He started to slide off my lap, turned as his feet hit the stage floor, and added, “I love you, Santa.”

The crowd nearest to the stage heard him and laughed and cheered.

My mouth dropped open behind my beard. Air caught in my throat. That was a heartfelt sentiment, not just a standard line to say to Santa Claus. Wasn’t it?

He grinned and skipped down the step, hurrying back to his seat at the bar.

I barely saw or heard the next person in line who wanted everything for Christmas, it seemed, including ten photos of himself in different positions on my lap, and a bear.

All I could do was nod and keep saying, “Yes, yes.”

I kept looking at Kit. I could barely concentrate. The clock said eleven. I still had two hours of this gig before it was up.

It was the longest two hours of my life.

Sometimes, the lineup ended, and I had a few minutes reprieve. During one lull, Kit brought me a whisky. I didn’t ever drink on a job. But I took a few sips before handing it back.

Kit said, “I love watching you work. You’re the very best Santa ever.” He held tightly to his bear. It was his first Santa gift, technically. The first time we met I’d run out of toys. The second time his special toy I’d bought just for him was stolen. This one was going home with us.

A few guys noticed Kit’s attention on me. They joked around a little.

“Is that Santa’s boy?”

“Is Santa also a daddy?”

If they discovered my identity after the gig, that was fair. I only wanted it secret until Christmas.

When it was finally time to roll up the Christmas carpet, Kit was waiting for me by the employee door to the locker room and break room.

He watched me take off the beard and belly and cap. Then he threw his arms around me and said, “Daddy, I’m so proud.”

All the way home, I couldn’t forget the “I love you, Santa” statement.

It was late and we were both tired when we went to bed. Kit wanted to sleep naked again. So did I.

Standing naked in my walk-in closet, I carefully hung up the costume. Before I finished, Kit grabbed the Santa coat.

“Not this.”

“What?”

“I want you to put it on. Like a robe, Daddy.”

“Why?”

“I want to play with Santa one more time before you put it away. For Christmas.”

I raised my eyebrows at him but said nothing as he led me to our bed.

“Please lie back, Daddy.”

This time, my baby boy was in charge. Again, I thought about what he’d said. I love you, Santa.

I let him position me just how he wanted. Then Kit turned off the lamp and climbed into bed and into my arms. He petted the velvet, then ran his hands all over my body underneath the coat, kissing as he went.

My cock was raging by the time his hands reached it, tugging a little before his lips melted over the tip.

He sucked me while I wore the coat, and it was like being transported to another world. I was both Santa and myself giving my baby boy what he wanted.

“Daddy Santa,” he said between sucks. “Oh, Daddy. You’re so powerful. So good. You’re mine now, right?”

All I could do was groan as ecstasy drove itself through my body. I came hard. Kit drank me down, then pulled up and milked the rest of my pleasure from me.

“Santa, I love you.”

There it was again. His precious words.

I reached up and pulled him to me. “My good boy.”

I kissed him, then reached for his own hard cock.

He pushed my hand away. “It’s all right, Daddy. I already came doing that to you.”