Date: Mon, 29 Dec 2008 01:00:55 -0700
From: coffee_rocks@hotmail.com
Subject: Loving Santa

- -

Disclaimer: This story is about a fantastical, homosexual relationship
between a young boy and a much older man. The story is told in the first
person perspective of the boy... but both characters and all interactions
and situations are entirely fictional. Please be aware that the story
contains many elements that some people may find perverse, such as
pederasty and teleiophilia. And, it's important to note that if you are not
above the age of consent in your country you should not be reading this. If
you agree to these statements then youmay continue. Enjoy.

- -

This is a story of my unforgettable experience with a mall Santa. I never
learned his name, and he never learned my name, but I'm quite certain that
we both changed each other's lives forever on one cold December night.

My name is Carson (although that doesn't serve as much importance) and not
too long ago, I created a fantasy in my head that involved good old Saint
Nick. Santa Claus. Father Christmas. Being fifteen years old and all, my
sexuality was at a peak; the fantasy only made my experiences more fun and
exciting.

I wasn't exactly built. I was tall, skinny, and my thoughts were always
full of adventure and imagination. But my visions were vivid, and I strived
to try and make them a reality whenever I could.

Even when I was young, Santa was always so gloriously attractive. It wasn't
until the knowledge of good ol' masturbation reached me that Santa suddenly
became sexy; an icon of jolliness and lust at the same time.

Basically, it was three days `till Christmas day, and I heard from a friend
that his uncles' coworkers' neighbor knew the mall Santa that worked near
my house. I hadn't seen him nor even cared to wonder, but, apparently this
guy was a no-life. Gets really deep into character every year because it's
the only thing that made him happy. He apparently got along with all sorts
of types, too; my friend Trevor had a personal visit with him and said the
guy only broke out of his Santa persona once he had asked him to.

I honestly didn't know what went through my head when I heard this, but I
knew I had to meet this guy that evening. I had to.

And so, that night near store closing, I went to the mall. All around me
the stores were closed, save for a few food marts and one electronics
department. I raced through the corridors to find my mark, and after
jogging around a few corners, I found what I was looking for.

In the middle of the hallway intersection was a large, festive display. A
small (wooden?) cabin stood, decorated in colorful lights and sparkly,
plentiful, make-shift snow. Beneath it, a large, cushioned throne stood
high, all red and lined in golden accents. I assumed that's were the big
guy sat when the children lined up to meet him merrily, but at current he
was standing with a skinny woman in an elf costume. I could only see his
backside.

I crept up behind the cabin a ways so I could barely hear them.

"Good shift, Santa," the woman said. "Fifteen hours straight. But it's only
for a couple more days."

The jolly man spoke in a flawless voice, "Yes, yes. That's quite
alright. I'm going to head home now; the store closes in thirty
minutes. I'm gonna take a pit stop, though."

The woman laughed, "Wow! I love hearing things like that from that perfect
Santa voice of yours!"

I breathed deep to myself, still absorbing the man's words. His voice was
deep, cheerful and had a hint of masculine authority. It was, literally,
the voice one would hear when picturing the ideal Santa Claus. Already, the
man impressed me beyond belief.

"Ah, yes," the man chuckled as well. "Everyone gets a kick out of
it. Anyways, I'll bid you a good night, Cheryl."

She smiled, "Yes, and good night to you, too."

The man made a nod and parted, heading down the opposite hall. My heart
jumped when he started walking, and so I followed behind not far. The mall
was empty save for the two of us, but he did not notice me. As we walked, I
scanned his backside and noted his cute ball-topped hat, woolen, black
mittens, perfect red Santa coat, crimson, felt pants and black boots. He
was average height, and very plump. I also took note of his juicy butt that
beamed festively through the pants.

Santa reached the bathroom quickly, and I stopped before I entered to
gather a little courage. I didn't know how the situation was going to go; I
knew how I wanted it to go, but sometimes things don't go the way you
plan. But, I stayed positive, thinking happy thoughts, and I entered.

The bathroom was clean; neat, tiled floors and smooth, blue walls. One,
giant mirror gleamed on the far left wall over the sinks. Through it, I saw
my plump target at a urinal. I also saw (and heard) the emptiness of the
bathroom. Certainly quite convenient.

I hadn't yet seen the face of this Santa but I knew how I wanted it to
look. I convinced myself not to get my hopes up, as it was quite impossible
this man would look the way I envisioned.

After a while he wrestled with himself and finished up; he flushed the
urinal and headed for the sinks. I was leaning as lazily as I could against
the entrance wall, and as he turned on the tap he noticed me in the
mirror's reflection.

My brain was instantly rattled with disbelief... there's no way! White,
snowy beard, rosy cheeks, beaming forehead and juicy pink lips? Even the
glasses he wore were incredibly accurate. It was like I was looking
directly at the man that lived within my head, being the Santa I've always
dreamed of meeting.

Controlling myself, I took a deep breath and strode up to him.

"Piss break?" I asked. "Funny. What if the kids were to see you in here?"

He chuckled, "Fortunately, that almost never happens. Not this late." He
remained in character, speaking jollily and merrily. I was touched; and
throughout everything that happened that incredible night, he never once
stopped speaking that way. Not once.

I nodded slightly, agreeing. It wasn't too late, but it was late enough
that the mall had deserted and the cold had increased dramatically outside.

I spoke again, "It must be tiring, working until closing."

He turned, placed his gloves back on slowly. He replied, "No, it's not. It
makes me very happy to be Santa Claus for everyone, even if it means me
working all day."

I walked up to him cautiously, trying my best not to alarm him. "Ah, I
suppose that's your reward."

He smiled gleefully, "That, and a generous sum of cash."

I laughed, and he smiled again. I stood there for a moment, and the two of
us just looked at each other. Then he said, "So what are you doing here at
the mall at this time of night?"

I shrugged lightly, "Ah, you know. I thought I might get lucky and beat
some crowds. Came a little too late, it seems."

"And then," he started. "You decided to come for me, did you?"

I didn't disagree, and I found it funny that he asked that. But what he
said... Oh, God! Now I was putting his words out of context! Obviously when
he said `you decided to come for me' he didn't mean it in the way I was
thinking! I cursed myself silently.

"Well," I began. "I supposed I was just flabbergasted by the prospect of
Santa needing a trip to the washroom. It's easy to forget that you need
them, too."

He nodded, "Agreed. What's your name?"

I smirked somewhat lewdly, but answered sternly, "I'm... terribly sorry,
but... I'd rather not say. Let's just keep mine in the dark, and I'll keep
calling you Santa, alright?"

He sighed in disappointment, but did not argue, "Alright, my son, have it
your way."

I raised an eyebrow, "Son?"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed reassuringly. "Please don't think it weird or
perverse. I'm a creature of habit, you see... I tend to refer to all young
men who visit me as `my son'. It's just something I do. If you'd prefer me
not-"

"No, no," I cut in. "Go ahead! I don't mind at all." Santa smiled sweetly,
and placed his hands together.

My son? My son! My God, the man of my fantasies wanted to refer to me as
his son? My mind filled with dirty thoughts instantly. I pictured us,
together, in a bed of snow, wrapped in a perfect embrace. I didn't picture
any sex or any genitalia but I pictured his bearded face, red with
exhaustion, calling out, `My son! Oh, my son!' in an orgasmic, vulnerable
tone.

I took a deep breath, and he stood in front of me. I focused back on
reality, trying desperately not to reveal to him anything that could show
me for the pervert I was. But inside my jeans, my slender dick betrayed me
and twitched.

"M'boy, how old are you?" he asked me, his words penetrating my thoughts.

"Fifteen, good man," I answered. "And yourself?"

He blushed slightly, "Oh, son, I'm quite a ways older than that."

"Oh, I doubt it," I said modestly. "You look great. Perfect, even." I took
this opportunity to walk up close to him.

Now only a couple feet apart, he spoke softer, "Well thank you, son. I
really should try to be more fit, though."

"More fit?" I exclaimed. "Nonsense! How could you be the more glorious
Santa Claus if you got more fit?"

He smiled, "That's definitely true. But please, you don't have to keep
complimenting this old bag."

"Oh, but there's a lot to compliment," my brain did not even process that
sentence. My member stopped it's surging but I still felt a little
voluptuous. A little urge to take the risk ran through me. I knew this was
the moment that I would find out... "Your belly is festively round, your
outfit incredibly accurate, and your voice is soothing and almost horribly
perfect."

As I said these things, I raised my hands and place them on his belly. I
felt the soft, red jacket and it tickled my palms, driving me to clutch.

Santa squinted slightly at this, but not necessarily in discomfort. Feeling
his chest definitely turned me on, and my fantasy entered again. I itched
to feel him more. To see what I've been waiting to see.

If this Santa was the exact Santa I wanted, then I realized that his cock
must also be exactly how I imagined it.

Oh God, this realization drove me so utterly excited that I actually shoved
Santa slightly. He rattled back a ways, but did not stumble.

"You certainly think so, don't you?" he questioned. "But, my son, you are
quite handsome yourself."

The usage of `my son' drilled into my thoughts again, making my
explorations of him so much more vital to my satisfaction. "You think?"

"Oh, certainly," he answered. "You're tall, healthy, not at all pale... Ah,
baggy jeans though. It's hard to tell your leg structure."

No... there's no way he had said that. He wanted to see my legs? This was
too much.

I deliberately spoke sexy, "Hmm, well, I try not to give my legs away to
just anyone."

In the heat of the moment, I very well could've imagined it, but I'm sure
as hell that Santa then spoke with a growl, daring me to touch him further,
"Oh, yes. I suppose I don't qualify then?"

That was it. I knew I had to go for it; reach down and touch what I have so
vividly dreamed of touching. "Well that depends..." my hands worked their
way down his shirt. "...on what you want to do..." I kneaded them past the
waist of his pants. "...once you've seen my bare legs." Then, with a strong
force, I put my right hand in a cup and groped his spectacularly large
package.

The slope formed in his pants wasn't all too large, but the man was not
quite excited yet. I did, however, fully intend on making him so.

"My boy," he breathed. "What're you...?"

"Oh, dear Santa," I said softly. "Don't fight me. Don't even try to resist
yourself."

"My son, this is redic-" he started, but I interrupted him.

"Listen," I said. "How about, just for now, we let our worries and feelings
melt away. Okay?"

He said nothing.

"I mean," I tried to think of the words to say. "Why don't we have some
fun, just for now? You and I, here. Nothing complicated."

His gaze didn't meet mine; he sorta just stared off into space. I imagine
he was trying to figure everything out. Trying to make sense of it all.

"What d'you say?" I asked again. "I swear I won't tell." I figured he
needed a little encouragement, so I gave him a powerful squeeze on the
genitals.

He gasped sharply, and he looked down at me, eyes suddenly twinkling
slightly. He couldn't, as it seemed, hold back any longer from reacting to
my words. I felt his member pulsate in my grip. Once, twice... in a moment
it poked out into my palm.

With his warm, soft gloves on both hands, he grasped my forearms, and took
one single, deep breath. I grinned, slightly biting my lower lip, and I
seized his dick roughly, and he squinted oddly in mild discomfort.

Finally knowing his answer then, I started forcing him to walk backwards
slowly, using his cock as a sort of steering. He staggered backwards and
jumped a little in surprise when he hit a cubicle door. I giggled when he
did so, and helped him open the door, and then lock it behind us.

He stood there hesitant for a moment, waiting for me to initiate
something. "Go on, Santa Claus," I murmured. "Whip it out." I spoke softly,
like I was daring him.

He smirked lewdly (I could see it, even through his snowy beard) and
quickly undid the tie on his pants that he had done up not even minutes
prior. He moved quick and anxiously, and so I gently placed my hands on his
belly and moved my hands along his felt coat.

This coaxed him into undressing himself more patiently, and he closed his
eyes, seemingly rolling them around in the back of his head. His hands,
with his poofy, black mitts, let go of his pants, and he stretched his arms
forwards.

When he opened up his gaze again, he looked down and realized his pants had
successfully hit the floor and were wrapped around his black boots.

As for me, I was pretty much drooling. I was high on my knees, head just
above his slate-gray boxer-briefs. They were tight-fitting, and so they
made the shape of his semi-erect cock and balls definitive.

I suddenly found myself a little starved for this beefy piece of Santa
before me, and so I darted for the elastic waistband. I raced hastily to
get his underwear to the floor so that I could revel in his manhood.

When they were down, I stood halfway up and pushed him backwards from the
shoulder. He looked back and spotted the toilet, and then sat upon it. He
made a scratchy pant that excited me; it made him sound older... more
delicate.

He spoke, ending the ongoing silence, "Well, well, son... I have to say
this is quite naughty!"

I loved it! It was like what I dreamed Santa's cock would be! Not long, not
short... just average, but plump! Nice and plump. It stood proudly,
pointing up at a steep angle, but not straight. Santa then sat up a ways,
making his member point right at my glowing face.  Surrounding his manhood
was a forest of silvery, curly pubes that made me smile.

"Oh so naughty indeed," I replied. "But don't fret. This is simply my gift
for you, Santa."

He smiled sweetly as I bent my back forward, and my wet, awaiting mouth
enveloped his warm, pulsing arousal.

My firm lips at first pranced mid-way along his shaft. He sighed merrily as
I sweetly tickled his pleasure-centre. My tongue danced on the tip of his
cockhead, and I felt it twitch violently a few times.

I pulled it out quickly, re-wetting my mouth with my tongue. Then, I looked
into his eyes. It drove me wild to see his cheery face smiling at me. Wild
enough that without hesitating (or even breathing), I engulfed him in one
quick motion.

Again and again, I bobbed slowly up and down and up and down Santa's
beautifully engorged dick. He spasmed once, moaning, but I continued
nonetheless. I made minimal sounds as I worked him with my mouth, sucking
hard enough that I very well could've plucked it right off his body.

Santa bucked slightly, and thus his cock squirmed oddly in the grip of my
lips. I began to pick up speed, savoring his tender erection. I'll be
honest, there wasn't really a taste; not really, at least. Every so often I
would get a grand whiff of deep musk that enticed me to go faster.

I realized that I was starting to go faster, and I wanted to slow down to
save it more but I couldn't. Santa breathed deeply as my head jerked again
and again over his hips. He began slouching back, his legs stretching
outward. The pants around his ankles forced my thighs backwards and I was
forced to lean forward a ways to continue my suckling. However, this made
me go much slower, but looking and seeing Santa panting made me realize he
was close to popping.

I took my left hand and gripped the base of his shaft, my lips now toying
with the tip of his head. My right hand I moved up and wrapped it in
Santa's frizzy, silver pubes. They tangled between my fingers as I massaged
his elegant groin. I let his cock sink into my mouth again, this time much,
much slower.

Santa seemed to cry out somewhat as I worked him again. He slouched
backwards even more, his ass barely sitting on the front edge of the toilet
now. I remained where I was, poised in my oral work. He moved his arms up,
crossed them, and used his woolen mittens to clutch at his own collarbones,
panting deeply in bliss.

I released my left hand off his base and sunk myself onto him. I made a
lewd growl through him, tugging on his arousal. He humped aggressively up
into my mouth and almost made me gag, but I held him back with my right
hand.

His cock began to twitch rhythmically along with my sucking, and his deep,
staggered breathing became faster and more awkward. His thighs spasmed as
well, bumping my sides, almost begging me to continue at my pace.

Then, when the twitches became more vigorous, Santa suddenly exclaimed
dangerously loud, and he sat up. His feet curled around the toilet, and his
bare knees bent and met together under my chest. He pulled his chest up and
curled over me, his head now over mine. His eyes were squeezed shut and his
gloved hands were now on the back of my head. He wasn't guiding me or
pushing me or anything... he was simply keeping them on me. From this shift
in position, his cock dug deep into my throat, and I stopped my bobbing and
simply kept sucking with just my tongue.

>From where I was, I was able to feel his penis surge enormously. Santa's
breathing became staggered, and it sounded like he was struggling to keep
up with himself. I adored it... I loved knowing that what I was giving him
was making him feel that overwhelmed with pleasure!

His chest rose and fell erratically as I licked and deep-throated his
member strongly. I closed my eyes and worked him like I was eating him, and
soon enough I felt his hands push down on my head. My eyes jerked back
open, and I felt the twitching cease abruptly.

Santa did not moan. He did not groan, sigh, whine or mutter. Hell, he
didn't even breathe. He made no noise; he simply snapped rigid, and humped
one last time into my throat.

My brain cheered and I felt like heaven when his hard, leather cock
convulsed over and over again tenderly in my mouth, intensely spewing out
streams of thick, salty cream. At first it was gradual, but as Santa took a
deep, choppy breath, another eruption of cum spouted forth from his
engorged head. I tried to let it seep down my throat, but Santa began to
hump slightly into me, preventing me from cleanly dealing with his silky
spunk. Instead, it began to collect under my tongue, and it quickly began
to flow out of my mouth and down his palpitating shaft and convulsing
balls.

Finally, Santa made a deep, vulnerable sigh. He panted noisily and weakly,
parts of his monotonous beard glistening with sweat; his cheeks and
forehead were rosy and hot-looking, and his eyes sparkled gratefully.

After a few moments he relaxed and allowed me to depart from his
delicateness. After swallowing all that was left within my oral cavity, I
quickly and thoroughly wiped the fluids from my face and smiled at him.

"Well, m'boy, I..." He paused to take a large, deep, uneasy breath. "I have
to say, that was wonderfully satisfying."

"Well," I started. "I certainly hope not."

Santa took a deep breath again; he stood up staggeringly, and pulled his
pants and underwear back up, hiding from me his tenderness.

"Oh..." he panted. "Listen, son, it's freezing outside. The last thing I
would want is for you to have to walk home or take the bus. I assume you
don't drive, correct?"

"Yeah," I responded. "But... are you offering to drive me home?"

"If you'll let me."



Santa owned a small, red sedan. If it was clean, I wouldn't doubt that its
color would match that of Santa's hat, jacket and pants. It made me laugh,
thinking that that may be the reason he bought it.

He let me in quickly to avoid the chilling wind, and I was more than happy
to hop into his passenger seat. He swiftly stuck his keys into the ignition
and started the vehicle up. Once done so, he flicked two switches, and from
the tiny diagrams I realized that he had started a seat-heater to warm up
our asses.

It was absolute darkness in the sky; the only lights were the mall lights
and the occasional street light. Santa and I relaxed for a second before
speaking.

He broke the silence, "Do you have folks waiting for you at home?"

I sighed grimly, "No, I don't. You think they'd let me go to the mall this
late if they had?"

"Are they out of town?"

"Yeah. My house is empty."

"You have a key, right?"

"Yes, but I don't really want to go home right now."

"Then where, my son, should I take you?"

"I don't know, just... wherever." I looked nervously into his gaze.

He made a breath and spoke softly, "Oh, I get it." My heart skipped a beat
when he said this. "You want me to take you up to the North Pole, right?" I
knew what he meant; he figured out that I wanted to see his house.

"I..." I hesitated. "I just... I don't know."

"Boy, what we did in there was simple," He said quietly. "Complicating it
is risky, for the both of us. I don't even know your name."

I looked away, "That doesn't matter."

"Listen," he said sternly. "Let me take you home, alright? We don't need to
do this."

"Oh no," I started. "We do."

"Oh?"

"Let me prove it," I challenged him.

"Really?"

"Oh yes, really."

"Alright then."

"You wanna go again?" I asked. "Because I'll be honest, Santa. Your prize
earlier was scrumptious."

"No, no," he insisted, enticing me to raise an eyebrow. "I want to see
you. In action."

His words caught me off guard. "Really?"

"Oh yes." He sat back. "You've got a sweet body. I'm sure you're well
equipped. I want to see you share your own prize by your own hand."

I just had to chuckle at those corny words, "Wow, that perfect, jolly voice
of yours can sure twist some sentences around." He laughed.

I slouched lazily on the heated chair facing him as he turned towards
me. He made himself comfortable, his round belly sticking out plumply. I
made a deep sigh to excite him; to make him crave it.

"Well then m'boy," he said softly. "I believe it is now your turn to `whip
it out'."

I grinned naughtily, undoing the zipper of my sweater. Once opened, I
lashed it open, revealing my t-shirt. But, I promptly pulled up the bottom
of my shirt to my chin and held it there between my neck and chest.

Santa licked his lips mischievously as I began to work the button of my
jeans. It was difficult to look at him since my head was down holding up my
shirt, but I saw him rubbing his belly. No, not merrily, but friskily.

Once my fly was down, I slid my thumbs underneath the waistband of my
underwear and pulled them up. The protruding tent in my pants lowered and
my stiff member slapped onto my skin. I bent forward, and in a second, my
pants and underwear were halfway down my thighs.

Santa made a few sympathetic oohs and ahhs of admiration and esteem at the
sight of my hard, projecting cock. The warm, comforting car seat charmed me
into comfort, and I didn't make Santa wait for long. Laying my left hand
beside my waist, I reached my right hand out to my length, and grabbed it.

I gave myself one... two good squeezes. On the third I made a powerful
grunt that made Santa shift in his seat. But no more... I immediately began
stroking my full span before him. I tugged on myself
relentlessly... remembering what had occurred in the washroom minutes
earlier gave me a sort of head start that I could not disregard.

A minute into it and I felt my legs grow heavy, and I had to close my
eyes. My stroking got faster, and I felt my cock twitch minutely. Santa
made a pressing exhale sound that penetrated into my visions. For a good
second there I tried to ignore him, but, as soon as I thought about him my
dick surged in my grip and a wave of pleasure flew through me.

I suddenly began picturing my fantasies, my images now more real; I
visualized Santa's rigid, leathery cock with unyielding heat and alluring
appeal. I envisioned his gray private hair, and one, glinting stream of
precum.

The bliss guided me to it. I felt my body tingle, and as I saw myself
encircle his member in my grip, about to embrace it, my body jerked
harshly, and I came wetly onto my belly.

When I opened my eyes, I simply looked into Santa's face. His sweat was
beading on his cheeks, and he was panting slightly, very much fired up from
what he witnessed. He was now abrasively groping his abdomen, trying, as it
seemed, desperately to apply his newly acquired arousal into something
productive. His pants were now sporting a summit that got my attention.

Meanwhile, though, a few spurts of semen gathered themselves just
underneath my still-throbbing cockhead. I breathed deep a few times, but I
was very much easily able to contain myself quickly.

I blushed, "Liked what you saw, did ya?" I relaxed serenely.

"Ho," Santa began. "You're a bit of a mess!"

I eyed my tiny puddles and shrugged slightly. "Eh," I said. "A bit." I
moved my left hand off the [sorta hot!] seat and with my index finger,
rubbed at and collected one of the small puddles of fluid on my body. Then,
Santa watched probingly as I lifted the sample to my mouth and licked the
substance away.

I laughed faintly at his expression; through his beard I knew he was
smirking. I took my gaze off him to watch my hand collect another puddle,
but to my surprise my hand was stopped midway by his own hand.

"Oh, please, son," he muttered, undeniably in the most loving, affectionate
voice I have ever heard. And in the Santa voice, too! "Allow me."

I wheezed oddly when his warm, wet tongue met with my private, responsive
skin. He eagerly and hungrily lapped at all the thick, globular cum. His
tongue messily scooped it up, and some of it got into the bushy, copious
white hairs on his upper lip. I chuckled lightly as he did, enjoying the
feeling, but the laughter was stopped instantly when I felt a clasp on my
diminishing boner.

I looked down to see an ambitious, famished Santa; his gaze challenged
me. "That was... something," I told him.

He tugged again, and my hips jumped off the seat into his grip in
response. I gasped slightly when I fell back down again, shocked at my
primal reaction. I felt my dick begin to swell once again, pulsating
fiercely. My erection was growing again, in the clutch of Santa's soft,
subtle mittens.

I looked into his stare, bewildered. And he said to me slowly, "You sure
have a taste to you, boy. But I can't help but wonder what it tastes like
fresh from the tap..."

I closed my eyes and instantly fell short of breath when I felt Santa's
hot, moist maw surround my cock. I raised my chest up high when Santa
managed half my length in his mouth. Already, the sensation of just his
lips caressing my shaft blew me away.

I forced my hands on either side of me, gripping sternly any handle or
corner I could find. Once complete, I bucked lightly into Santa's jaw, and
he took me without hesitation. I was flabbergasted when I looked and saw
Santa meeting his lips with my base, beard tickling my sweating balls.

Straight away, Santa moved his head up and sucked on my head as my cock
emerged slowly. He moved both his gloved hands upwards, and placed them on
my abs, tickling my belly with the soft felt. I sighed delicately as he
gracefully worked my beating dick with his tongue, guiding it lovingly from
the base of my pole to the tip, removing eagerly a few trickles of watery
precum.

I grunted instinctively as I felt a punch of bliss in my crotch. Santa
maneuvered his knees around the base of the seats to get closer, his belly
digging at the side of my seat, his head now looming eerily over his meaty
treat. My thighs made a few welcomed spasms that made me groan, and I had
to wrap my legs lightly around Santa's upper body, my feet resting on the
driver's side chair.

Santa then dug me back into his mouth deeply, slurping and suckling away at
the boy-meat before him. I began to rock somewhat, lifting myself half an
inch or so above the seat with my locked up hands. With this, I managed to
barely hump into Santa's soft mouth along with his slow, gentle rhythm. I
tried desperately to hold back a cry, but it still seeped through my bonded
lips, making me sound exasperated and almost in pain.

The pleasure was beginning to control my body. As Santa's loving work began
to get more intense and hard I felt myself rock and twitch more
violently. My cock surged, but he held it steady with his tender tongue,
emitting floods of delight through me. My hands clutched firmly at my
handles and Santa's mittens pressed on my stomach as I cried loudly. His
speed increased dramatically, and I felt myself hit paradise.

When my cock began systematically surging bliss again and again through me
I realized I was nearly done.

"S-Santa... oh, God!"

My thrusting increased as well, and I felt his tongue dance on my
shaft. The bliss was simply becoming too much to handle (assuming that's
possible) and my legs began squeezing Santa in response.

Because of this, Santa leaned forward, and allowed my dick to be buried
inside. I lifted myself higher in response to my cock being freed, and it
pulsated strongly within. Santa removed his hands from my sweating belly
and he wrapped his arms underneath me.

My breathing suddenly became erratic and clumsy, and every breath I took
sounded labored and uneasy. The pleasure filled me from head to toe and
consumed everything. I could no longer breathe, and all I could feel was
Santa's incredible, adoring mouth all over my twitching boyhood.

Then, the surging pleasure began to drag, weighing me down. I felt a
compulsion to stop everything and moan. Moaning was all I could do. Santa
took his hands from under me, crossed them, and squeezed me. His embrace
forced me to stop all movement, and allowed my member to slip deep into his
mouth and slightly into his throat.

And then, as he closed his eyes and teased my shaft one last time with his
tongue and fiddled with the base of my shaft with his lips, I came
vigorously into Santa's maw.

I made somewhat of a squeal when I felt my creamy boy-semen pour lusciously
into the expecting fabrics of Santa's mouth. The pleasure seemed to be
amplified as he suckled me, intending to cleanly consume all of it. I
moaned loudly again when he was forced to take a quick breath and
temporarily let go of my cock. Once he did, it palpitated, sending more cum
all over his tongue. He lapped it up, and then replaced the vacuum pressure
on my length, allowing my fluids to drain neatly into his stomach.

I regained my breathing; I was gasping and panting horribly, trying to
re-obtain control of my weakened muscles and relentless thoughts. I simply
looked down at Santa as he finished up with my cock, sending the odd surge
of minor bliss through me, triggering a shaky pant every time.

After a moment, he had cleaned all my fresh spunk and looked up at me,
smiling.

"You are delicious, my naughty boy," was what he said then. "And I must
say, quite the vocal one."

I whimpered, "Oh... Oh, Santa... that was so great."

"So great indeed," Santa agreed. There was an incredibly suspenseful pause
that made plead for words in my head. But not long later, Santa licked his
lips and spoke, "Alright, my son, I live quite close. I'll take you to my
home."



The front door swung open rigidly as the two of us shuffled inside. I was a
little disappointed by the outdoor appearance of Santa's city domain. It
was two stories, sure, but only just. The paint was a worn-out blue and the
windows had a couple cracks in them.

The interior was much better, however. A hardwood flight of stairs led down
and up. A railing separated the stairwell from the large, lit living room
and directly in front of the stairs I was able to make out pots and pans
hanging from some sort of decorative apparatus.

I climbed the stairs and threw off my sweater. Santa followed suit, but did
not take off his boots, leaving a slight trail of dirty, wet footprints
behind him.

"This is a nice place, Claus," I stated. "It's definitely welcoming."

"I certainly hope so," he responded.

I took some time inspecting things. I wasn't really trying to snoop or
anything, just keep him in suspense long enough to ask me what we both knew
he was going to ask me.

And then he did, "Son, I don't know what you're here to do. What are you
planning, exactly?"

I grinned mischievously, "Oh, love... you'll see."

"Love?" he asked oddly.

"Yes." I answered. "Perhaps this'll give you a hint." I dug around in my
back pocket and pulled out something I had brought along just incase this
were to happen. I must say that at first I was really scared of what his
reaction might be, but then I just went with it like I already had that
night.

I tossed it at him and he caught it, looked at it, and gasped.

"Lube." He said. The tiny vile-like bottle glowed a lustrous purple, and
the letterings were a marvelous silver. The man held it firmly and read
it. My intentions were now clear to him, so it was time to engage in a
little conversation.

"You think I just followed you into that bathroom just for the one blow?" I
asked him. "Although, let's be fair. I never thought in a million years it
would happen, but still."

"No, no, son, I suppose I understand," he said. "I'm flattered. Really. And
I assume I should remain in this voice, too."

"Oh yes, definitely," I told him. "And I want everything on. The whole
costume. Everything must stay the same. Oh, and I love how you call me
`son'!"

He chuckled, "Yes, well. Your wish is my command, especially for you."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"You're a juicy little boy," he started. "You want a piece of my big, plump
ass? You've got it, no doubt about it, son."

I shivered at the words. "Well, you seem like you'd enjoy it."

"I'm alone here," he said. "Your mouth worked a wonder on me that hasn't
been worked for a long time. I must say, this job always makes me happy,
but... I suppose I've always wanted more."

"Oh, same here all the way," I agreed. "All my life I've loved
Santa... loved you. But, for the past while or so, I've always wished I
could get a piece of that. The side of Santa nobody ever really dared to
imagine."

"Oh, my boy," he started, softly. "I can give you all the lust and passion
you desire and more." These words bored into my skull, awaking my
hibernating sex and making my heart skip a beat.

"And I don't doubt it," I said.

"Let's move this over to my room," he suggested. "It'll be cozier in there,
I promise."

Yes! My brain cheered when he said this because I knew exactly what it
meant. My fantasy was being pieced together, one piece at a time!

I followed the laggard to a room at the end of a hallway near the
kitchen. The door was decorated with a few posters of foreign countries. A
few I caught included Italy, Australia and Japan; the posters turned me
off. They were out of character.

His actual bedroom, however, was quite clean. No TV, no bureau or anything
like that. It was simply a big room with a large bed in the centre with two
table-side desks beside it. One of them had an alarm clock and a couple
boxes of medication and the other had a phone, lamp and a book.

The walls and bed are what excited me, though. The comforter, pillows and
frame of the bed were all Christmas colors; deep red and snowy white. The
walls were a sort of maroon red that contrasted with the bed, making the
sheets seem that more vibrant.

Once inside, he turned to me and said, "This is my domain."

"Beautiful."

"I'm glad you think so," he said. "I try to keep things simple."

"It's perfect," I told him. "And I love it."

He grinned, "It's certainly a comfortable bed, I must admit. Now tell me,
boy, what is it you wish to do to me."

"Well, love, what do you think? What sort of fucking are you thinking of?"
I asked in return. "We have lots of time."

"I didn't think you could stand to wait," he said, eyes looking
curious. "You're already hard. Ready to fuck."

I didn't even look down on myself. I knew it; he was right. Just entering
the bedroom was what drove me to arousal. I hadn't cared, but it seemed as
though it was becoming obvious.

"You're just too much, love," I said. "I could've tried to stifle it,
but... I would've failed horribly."

"Well then," he said. "I think we should let it out."

I smiled, very horny now, and reached for the waist of my jeans. Santa
reached for the bottom of my shirt and gripped it. Quickly and without even
any breathing in between, I undid the button and fly, threw my pants down
and then swiftly lifted my hands up so that Santa could rip my shirt off
over my head, revealing my flat, thin chest. I lifted up my feet to allow
my jeans to part from me, and I ripped my socks off at the same time.

I stood for a moment in only my tight boxer-briefs (black ones) that
completely shaped my erect dick. Santa did not ogle at that, but at my
legs.

"I suppose I qualify after all," he said. "And I definitely know what I
want to do."

I laughed, and then slowly took off my underwear. My shaft stood on end,
reaching high and pointing straight at Santa's head. He took a deep, loving
breath.

"This is your call now, son," he said. "You're the fuck pro here, not me."
It was funny hearing him cuss with the perfect Santa voice. I took a
breath, and he caught it. "You seem nervous, m'boy."

"Yeah, well," I said. "Underneath all this excitement, I really think I
am."

"But why?" he asked. "Have you not done this before?"

I looked away from his gaze as I answered, "No... No, I haven't. Did you
think I have?"

"Well, my dear boy," he started. "You caught me in a bathroom, seduced me
and convinced me to bring you here. And what you did for me in the
bathroom... that did not feel like an amateur job."

I breathed, "No, I'm a virgin, Santa. And I'm hoping for that to change."

"Ah," he spoke so slowly, so affectionately it was like he wanted to
paralyze me with his words. "So... you have never fucked or been fucked."

I couldn't stand thinking about telling him the whole truth. How I imagined
fucking Santa for a long time now; how I imagined him in the bathroom and
again in the car. It was true I was a virgin, but certainly not an innocent
one.

I shook my head. He smirked impishly and said, "Well, my son. It seems both
of us are heading for something new here. But you haven't experienced
anything like this before."

"Have you ever been with a man?" I asked him, curious.

"No, my son, but I believe the principals are similar. But with you so
young I bet the experience will be that much better."

"Oh?" I couldn't take any more.

My cock surged as he spoke, "Trust me, the feeling of your boyhood inside
me will drive you wild-"

"Oh God, Claus," I had to interrupt him; stop him from making me burst
already. "You'd better be worth it."

That was enough talk. I willingly obeyed the wishes of my pulsing cock and
shoved him backwards hard by the shoulders, and he fell over onto the
bed. He leaned up and looked at me, standing naked, horny and blushed.

I took an anxious breath and shuffled forwards to him. He grinned lewdly,
scanning me once more up and down. His dick was throbbing majorly beneath
his scarlet, felt pants, begging to be liberated and put into hot,
satisfying action.

When my knees hit the bedside I asked him, "You still got that vile?"

He smirked and held up the violet tube erotically, daring me to take it and
use it. I bit my lower lip as I snatched it abruptly from his clothed
grip. Without even a second of hesitation, I popped the lid open, flipped
it above my awaiting palm and squeezed out a large, gel blob of ice-cold
lube.

"That's certainly enough for you," Santa Claus said, his voice raspy with
anticipation.

"It isn't for me," I told him. He raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Shift
backwards a bit more. Lay back and relax."

He did not disobey; he used his hands to shuffle his ass backwards on the
bed, far enough that his whole body was now on the sheets except his boots,
which hung off the bed, his knees bent down slightly. Santa instinctively
went for the tie in his felt pants. I suddenly scanned him, figuring out
things in my head, and I stopped him.

"No, stop!" I exclaimed.

He instantly froze his arms solid, and stared at me. "But I thought you
were going to-"

"Oh, we will," I assured him. "Please... just, try... let it out some, but
keep the pants, boots... everything on."

I took a nervous sigh, feeling vulnerable. Santa made a perplexed frown and
started renewing his undressing strategy to fit my wish. I cursed myself
silently, ashamed slightly that I was giving in to fantasy. But then again,
it was still going to happen...

Santa dug his gloves into his felt pants, and began feeling around inside
his underwear. From what I saw I assumed he was attempting to snake his
cock and balls through the folds of his briefs, and he was having a little
trouble.

I was getting a little impatient. The goo in my hand started to feel like a
burning mass, roasting my palms and weighing down my arm. The struggling
man below me was concentrating on his task, and I tapped my left foot
slightly. However, Santa's face soon beamed with success and his cock poked
into the felt fabric. All that was left was to let it out of the jolly
Santa pants.

Restless, I kneeled down before the bed. My right hand had no gel upon it,
so I used it to fiddle with the creases. I tried to pull it at first, but I
saw that in the middle of the folds was a tiny ruby button. When I got hold
of it, I had to stay there for a second; I became paralyzed entirely when
my nostrils were suddenly penetrated by the majestic aroma of Santa's hot
sweat.

After a second or two to gather myself, I flipped that button through. The
two felt fabrics separated, and Santa's erect arousal emerged willingly. I
blew a poof of cold air on it (for no other reason than to just toy around
with it) and prepared it for its bath. Santa took a deep breath, and his
anticipation excited him and he humped oddly into the empty air.

Everything was how I wanted it. Santa was fully clothed. Hat, beard,
glasses, jacket, gloves, boots... his cock and balls were pulsing and
sticking out hotly from the done-up felt pants. His silver pubes winded
their way through as well, contrasting perfectly with the cherry pants.

My left hand promptly set to work messaging the heavy lubrication on
Santa's beautiful shaft. He reacted uneasily at the frigid temperature of
the gel on his warm length, and he leaned up and reached out, placing his
right hand on my shoulder, the felt tickling me.

I added my right hand to the work, and just like I had pictured it in my
fantasies, I leaned forward and embraced him. With both hands I massaged
him, squeezing it and caressing it as gently and lovingly as possible.

Santa smiled, his face blushed in pleasure. When he made a slight moan and
gripped my shoulder, I realized that I should cease the lubing. I didn't
want him to get too excited yet! I needed him to be satisfied entirely.

"Alright, love, out into the bed now," I commanded nicely. He lifted
himself up, and crawled to the head of the bed, and laid his noggin on the
center pillow and relaxed. I crawled up onto the bed as well. I took my
lube-covered hands and spread all the excess on my rump, messily (but
necessarily) decorating my puckered hole.

"Wow, m'boy," he started. "You're beautiful. I... please forgive me if I am
not gentle."

I sat on top of Santa's horribly sexy belly, and he caught his breath to
support my weight. "Me? I'm so skinny and useless." I looked back, and
located Santa's shimmering staff.

"Oh, my son!" He exclaimed. "Please don't say that!"

I smiled, "Don't worry, Santa. This isn't for me, this is for you. As for
the gentle, don't worry. I'll be fine."

I yanked on him, and he yelped. I raised his cock upright as he spoke, "But
I want to be gentle. I just don't know if I will be able to hold back. I
just... I just want you... so bad."

He laid his legs straight down on the bed and his dick rose to some
extent. I stood up off him, floated myself over his waist, his head now
pointed right at my expectant sphincter opening. I readied myself; despite
acting like a pro up until now I still had no experience... I was a
virgin. Newbie. Twink. Whatever it has to be referred to as, it caught up
with me then.

But I summed up some courage and nervously spoke, "You want me, Santa
Claus?"

His cock seeped precum as he looked up lovingly at me and answered,
"Yes. Please."

"Then take me..."

In one long, dragged moment, I felt his gloves reach out and clutch my arms
rigidly as I dropped and allowed Santa Claus' cock to sink deeply into my
tight, hot asshole. He squinted tautly and held his breath; the lubrication
allowed for smooth entry, and we both gasped together, man and boy, as my
cheeks met the tickly felt and he could enter no further.

As for depth, there was no discomfort. I didn't feel any sort of
excruciating pokes or jabs inside of me, nor were there any bad twisting or
pulling. Santa's incredible girth, however, proved to be much too much for
my orifice lips to handle. A few incredible shots of pain radiated as they
were stretched open to their near limit, making me clutch at my own hips in
an attempt to withstand it.

Santa saw me close my eyes and pucker my lips in grief, and he breathed out
in a worried tone. I panted slightly, still a little overpowered in the
grand ache. He took the opportunity to pull out slightly, but since his
legs were outstretched and his body relaxed on the bed he was unable to
buck back very much.

I felt this and twinged slightly, forcibly preventing myself from crying
out. But, determined to continue, I moved my knees forward along Santa's
side, and when I felt they were comfortably far enough, I pushed with them
and raised my body up.

Santa squinted and held his breath again when my ass ascended and my
lubricated lips tightly stroked his throbbing cock. His gloved grip on my
arms rose with me and squeezed for every spasm of pleasure. When I was high
enough that only his head was within me, I dropped back down slowly upon
him, absorbing his dick again.

This time, I did not relax my thighs, and I prevented myself from landing
on his pelvis again. As soon as I felt a twitch within me, I began rising
again. The pain overcame the pleasure at first for me, so it was incredibly
difficult to go any faster or any stronger. Santa was subdued almost
entirely by my tightness. As I rose, his head jerked back forcibly into the
pillow beneath him and he grunted deeply. When this happened, I
instinctively contracted my insides and enveloped his shaft, no doubt
sending a wave of bliss through him. And, it also tamed the pain, and I
myself sighed pleasantly from the feeling.

As I began lowering again, Santa could not help but buck upwards, jabbing
my interior with a vigor that triggered a splint of pleasure in me. His
cock burrowed deep into me again, producing a barrage of tremors that
surged within me, making him force himself even deeper.

I moaned, this time in pleasure. Santa sensed this, and eased his kind
worry. The pace of the fucking grew exponentially faster; with the pain now
gone, my single goal was to now give Santa the ride of his life.

He gasped in bliss as I worked his glowing shaft with my insides,
rhythmically squeezing and narrowing my already tight passage to give him
as much beloved resistance as possible. His cock poking and prodding inside
me was indescribable... the probing sensation grew satisfying, and I didn't
want him to stop. After a moment or so, I felt I wanted him fully inside me
again, and I longed for it. But this mix of thought only drove me to bounce
higher and faster upon his member, coaxing cries of delight from my (mouth)
lips.

"You're so tight, my son!" Santa breathed hard and moaned every few
humps. It was clear from how tight and erratic he was squeezing me with his
fluffy gloves that the pleasure was charging and erupting within him. I was
so happy, seeing his eyes squeezed shut, basking in the glee.

He was barely moving his legs; he simply moved his hips up and down with my
springing and following me with his arms. His head he jerked continually in
pace with me. I was beginning to find it difficult to keep up my pace; I
was going quite rapidly now and I was beginning to fear that I was going to
collapse.

The fucking was getting lazier and sloppier. Santa began gasping as I
started landing on his hips with each descent, his cock going maximum depth
every time. It felt so good, his girth finally taking its place in me. But
Santa was surprised, and he took my arms and began pulling me forward.

I stopped my work, my legs cramping minorly. The feeling of Santa's leather
sex fitting inside me made me coo towards him, and he smiled, but he wasn't
done yet.

"You're... oh," he stopped to pant lightly. "You're trying too hard, my
son. Please relax..."

I obeyed him and shifted my position. With his cock buried in my ass I
placed my hands on his chest, and he let go of my forearms and put his
hands upon mine. Then, Santa bent his legs, and his knees rose. I felt his
cock alter around, and it twitched fiercely. Then when Santa's legs were
bent, he forced upwards with his feet, and his cock pushed me forward.

I grunted loudly as he began humping into me himself as I held myself upon
his chest. With him doing the work, I no longer felt any exhaustion or
discomfort. His dick slid easily into and out of my lips, and he sighed
merrily as he felt himself be worked again. I tried tensing my passage a
bit, thinking more work may be needed.

But, Santa quickly sped up somewhat, and I turned back and saw the speed at
which his legs were bucking. As I saw it, I truly began to feel the real
extent at which he was fucking me. Every second was filled with at least
four ins and four outs. His upper thighs and hips were beating on my butt
cheeks as he viciously and relentlessly tore at me with his tool.

I did not care, though. I felt no pain... it was strangely powerful. The
constant invasion of my rectum grew to become pleasuring and satisfying,
and I myself felt a very great wave of bliss every moment. His intense,
manly musk filled the air around the pair of us and it filled me up, and I
savored it.

I turned to look at Santa, but his eyes were closed. His mouth was hung
open, like he was silently screaming. Every so often I would feel a violent
surge from his penis and at the same time he would cry out in pleasure. As
he began getting even faster, I had to lie on his chest and go along with
his own rhythm, because any added resistance from me just led to a cruel
beating on my backside.

I suddenly felt the urge to collapse my chest onto his, my head lying on
his rapidly rising and falling chest. Santa's breathing was incredibly
raspy and delicate, and he was having a lot of trouble keeping up with his
own bucking. My tight passage was aggressively stabbed again and again by
his pulsating member. It pounded greatly, and quite often.

Santa's arms then crept up under me, and reached around my body and
clutched the underside of my thighs. I cried out as he affectionately
pulled on them, making me ride up and my ass lips to separate. This is when
Santa opened his eyes and looked into my gaze at last. I was wholeheartedly
impressed at the speed and gusto at which Santa's fucking had become. It
honestly no longer felt like humping to me, but like a constant
vibration. His cock sunk, emerged, entered, exited, penetrated,
departed... again and again in the most admirable speeds imaginable.

Santa's gaze silently cried out in pleasure to me. They beaded, and so did
the musky sweat on his forehead and cheeks. His gasping was worsening, and
it began to sound like he was having trouble breathing at all. He was
overwhelmed that badly... However, I myself was finding it hard to keep up
with my own body being pummeled by Santa's cock.

I couldn't help but squeal, "Oh... FUCK! Santa!"

Santa's inhuman speed was destroying the feeling on my insides. I began to
realize why he wanted to be gentle. But I didn't care that he was
overworking me; I didn't care that my ass was throbbing in discomfort and
the force of his fucking was knocking some wind outta me.

He cried into my ears helplessly, "M-My boy!" He cried deeply in
bliss. "P-Please... please hold on!"

Santa stopped his gasping and panting suddenly and groaned as loud as he
could. I cried as well, but underneath him. His chest stopped its rapid
declining and reclining and his breaths turned quick, short and dangerously
labored. I could suddenly hear Santa's glorious heartbeat under his shirt,
which interestingly enough was identical to the pulsations of his
rapidly-plunging cock.

It was unimaginably fast! Santa was on the verge of exploding! The dynamism
and vitality of the man's racing heart shocked even me! The spirit of the
man was unmatched, and I was incredibly moved. It was then that I became
honored to be Santa's lover, and so I relaxed all my muscles and Santa
froze.

He pulled my thighs forward again, and I dug my grip and my ear into
Santa's plump chest. I listened intently to Santa's draining heart as he
sunk his cock deep; the deepest it had ever gone through the whole thing. I
felt his member reach places I had never felt before.

"Please hold on..."

Santa then cried vulnerably and passionately into my ears one last
time. His legs spasmed uncontrollably behind me and his boots scraped on
the bed as he went rigid.

Then, Santa made a small, warm exhale along my face, bucked, and closed his
eyes as he was captivated in impossible amounts of pleasure. And when his
body twitched vividly again, his beautiful, hot, musky cock came torrents
of creamy goodness into me.

I sighed when I felt his member convulse, and I shivered in bliss when I
felt Santa's perfect fluids meet my inner walls. After a second eruption
occurred, Santa could not help but start humping again, this time much
slower, deeper and more tenderly. He moaned loudly as a third and fourth
spurt went off within me, painting my insides in silver Santa-juice.

It was an extraordinary feeling; knowing that Santa was devotedly and
lovingly sending me his perfect, divine fluids. I never wanted the feeling
to end, and I'm sure Santa didn't either. He was still panting and making
very primal groans well into his seventh or eighth spurt of cum. I squeezed
my ass lips onto his cock; tenderly milking it for everything it was
willing to give me.

Santa stopped his groaning and looked me in the eye. "Oh... my boy, you
were so... tight, and..."

I stopped him. "Santa, it's alright. I'm... please don't fret."

He tried to smile, but he was wheezing too hard. "Son, please. I want you
to finish. Please."

I sat up a ways, and both of us looked down to see a series of large
streams of precum on Santa's jacket where my own cock had laid during the
fucking.

"Alright, love," I told him. "You'll have to take off the pants, undies,
socks and boots. Chop, chop."

The fatigued, spent old man kneeled up and I nudged backwards. We both
rumbled in mild pleasure when he pulled out of me, making a sloppy popping
sound. I helped him elatedly to untie his felt pants quickly; once
accomplished, we pulled the folds back around his reducing dick and I
rapidly pulled down his underwear as well.

Santa swiftly ripped the shining, black boots from his feet and tossed them
backwards out of sight. I scrambled my way to the edge of the bed and he
pivoted sharply on his base, his feet swinging towards me. With both hands
I yanked his fluffy red socks off and revealed his smelly, sweaty
feet. Then, we both worked at maneuvering his jolly Santa pants and briefs
along his legs and off completely, exposing his hot, tenderly sweating
thighs.

Santa then sat on the edge of the bed and leaned backwards, holding himself
up with his elbows. I stood before him, tall and proud-like. My member was
throbbing red, driven mad by all the hot, messy action. His was still half
hard, and glistening stunningly in a coating of his own excreted
semen. Thick, watery streams of precum glittered on my shaft, making it
feel wet and ready.

Santa pulled his thighs away and revealed the region between his plump ass
cheeks. The hole was hard to make out through the shaggy forest that his
hairs made. The hairs were relatively abundant, and were not white nor
grey, but rather a dirty brownish. I clasped the underside of Santa's right
thigh with my left hand, and with my right I felt around his crack.

Santa made a few melodic sounds as I tried to identify his lips through
touch alone. I remained looking into his face, though, and he glowed in
anticipation. When I felt my fingers brush his touchy, rumpled circle, I
began moving forward. The excitement made me twitch as I brought my
cockhead to meet where my hand was.

My dick up until this point had dispensed such a volume of precum the tip
of it almost slipped right into Santa's bowels. I quickly reached my right
hand under Santa's remaining thigh and held my position. With his legs
separated, Santa's rump spread out, and I finally saw my target.

Neither of us spoke this time; Santa was still very spent and I was overly
ready to immerse myself into him. And so, using my plentiful precum as
lubricant, I lunged forwards with my hip, and using my grip on his thighs
for stability, I buried my pulsating cock into Santa's sweet, jolly ass.

Oh, God... the feeling of his creased, muscled ring gently squeezing on my
pleading member already forced me to sigh feebly into the air. Halfway in,
I found myself pushing on his thighs, forcing him backwards on the bed,
crinkling the fabric. We both took a deep breath, his more strenuous than
mine. I opened my eyes wide in a sudden twinge of pleasure when I felt my
hips meet his rump. He looked me in the eyes when this happened, with a
look of glee and a hint of pride.

Guided by pure lust, I began pulling out again. Santa nastily bit his lips
and contracted his glorious inner muscles that enveloped my dick and
enticed a spasm of pleasure. I ceased when I felt the lips scrape at the
most sensitive membranes of my cockhead.

Upon reentry, Santa made a slight grunt and closed his eyes relaxingly. I
pumped in hard, his walls still rubbing me gloriously. The pleasure was
quick, sharp, and amazingly powerful. Hungry for more, I quickly bucked in
as far as I could go and began pulling out again simply. I chased the
pleasure as much as I could, and as I did the fucking really got started.

Santa remained relaxed as he was; I held his thighs with both my hands and
snaked my waist in rhythm, catching myself with my knees should the
occasional surge of bliss overwhelm my legs. My speed increased, but not by
much. Santa acted like a pro, squeezing himself in rhythm with me, his ring
amorously embracing my cock with every reinsertion. I felt waves of
paradise with every lunge, coaxing a deep groan from my lips. Santa grunted
with what I perceived to be discomfort, but he wrung his walls again,
consuming me.

My pace grew and I began to feel it. However, despite this, I still did not
ram or stab into Santa's perfect ass. I was incredibly gentle, focusing
only on utilizing Santa's clasping ring to work my throbbing shaft. It was
what was delivering the abrupt shots of pleasure in my groin, spreading
deviously to all parts of my body, making me shiver.

I cried my own little merry cry as a punch of bliss hit me. Santa sprung up
from his position and held himself up more firmly. I literally felt his
body tense up through his marvelous passages, making entry more difficult,
but I instead found myself going faster. The bliss began building up a
ways; I moaned again, clutching hard at Santa's thighs. My body was
twitching and trembling abnormally from the act, and my head was beating
(both heads, actually).

My fucking of Santa Claus was getting messier. His flaccid cock was
bouncing up and down, spreading the awfully sweet fluids all over me. I was
beginning to feel my hips meet his cheeks somewhat with every hump, and I
was rocking back and forth a ways too, full to the head with pleasure.

I looked down at myself as my motions became less orderly and smooth and
more precise and swift. My now-lustrous member speared much faster into
Santa's gaping hole. I pushed forward onto Santa's legs as my body seized
in pleasure. He grunted intensely as my pounding got more severe.

I didn't realize, however. The lust... the ecstasy... was directing me. My
instincts, as it seemed, were not to be reasoned with. My cock was
controlling me, pulling itself now back and forth, pleading to be worked to
climax.

Another lustful sigh left my lips when my pace increased again. My body was
exhausting, wearing out from the act. I began breathing erratically,
attempting in vain to keep in control. Santa began breathing deep, too, but
in a way that charmed me to continue. He was trying to meet my gaze, but I
had just closed my eyes in bliss.

Suddenly, he pushed his thighs down and I, perplexed, paused for a
moment. My hands left their place under his legs and hovered; he looked
into my eyes.

"Good gracious, m'boy," he said with a slight wheeze. "Come closer. Let me
hold you."

I did as he suggested and leaned forward, straightening my legs. I moved my
arms up and put them on his shoulders; he himself placed his gloves on my
forearms, and I felt his now-free legs wrap around my waist and tug
lightly. My cock sunk into its maximum depth as the two of us got
comfortable again.

Then, without any further wait, I resumed my rapid fucking, this time with
a little more resistance. And, Santa's sweaty legs around me prevented me
from pulling out as far, so the motions became quicker and the pleasure
became more extensive.

Being able to see directly into Santa's eyes as I made love to him proved
to be much more satisfying for me. His rosy cheeks were blushing again, and
I could tell from his eyes he was enjoying everything. This made the
ecstasy so much more wonderful that it made me moan; my own face pounding
red.

The jolts inside my groin were beginning to get overpowering. The violent
spasms in my muscles tired me out; I felt my chest collapse onto Santa, and
I was forced to put my hands underneath him and hug him in order to keep up
my fucking pace. My member seemed to dance inside him it twitched so badly,
but it couldn't feel more fantastic.

The waves and spasms turned to floods and drags, and my breathing became
more clumsy and raspy. With all the heart and vigor I could conjure, I
increased my pace (I wasn't, however, going as fast as he was before) and
drove myself to the edge. Over top of all the incredible bliss, a tingling
in my balls began signaling, and I moaned.

I started biting my lip, and Santa looked up and saw this. He made a deep
groan, and I began staring into his eyes again.

I spoke scratchily, "Santa! So... so good!"

I grunted with frightening intensity when I felt Santa squeeze his legs
around me, bringing me in closer. I found it extra difficult to continue at
my pace, but I did. And when Santa contracted his ass muscles around my
thrusting cock, I gasped and my eyes screamed silent screams of
gratitude. Santa's entire body was rocking with me now; I wouldn't have
been surprised if the bed was moving, too.

The pleasure was overwhelming me; I found it hard to focus my vision on
Santa's face any longer. My heart was pounding, lungs were aching and my
legs and chest were sweating so ferociously that I felt like I was
submerged in liquid. My climax was around the corner; even through the
feelings I sensed it.

Santa whispered, "My son, don't slow down!" He paused when I groaned
hard. "I solemnly wish I could be as tight and as perfect for you as you
were for me..."

The ecstasy building within my dick was so intense- so atrocious- that it
felt like it very well could've destroyed me; exploded within me and killed
me. My heart was racing so fast that I thought it could've stopped,
freezing me mid-fuck. I was just so consumed with unimaginable bliss that
illogical and blasphemous thoughts ran through me; my body moved on its
own.

In the heat of the moment, I was barely able to speak. "Oh, Santa... Oh
please don't say that." I moaned loudly, and then raised my voice. "Oh,
God, it's so perfect!" I cried, my breaths excruciatingly labored and
awkward.

Santa's eyes were fixed upon me; it was then I no longer saw him as an old
man or even Santa Claus, but as my beautiful lover, whose gaze spoke of how
happy he is.

He breathed, "My boy... you are the one who is perfect..." He barely
muffled a sigh.

I tried to smile as much as I could through the panting; my groin and dick
were tightening severely, but instead of screaming in joy I spoke again,
"Thank... you, love..."

He said to me, "After meeting... so many boys I never thought I'd catch one
like you..."

"What?"

"Oh, my dear son," he paused when I grunted again, and this time he did as
well. Then he continued, "I lied to you... Many kids find their way to me."

The pleasure dragged on, surging through me, making my eyes tear and my
heart skip beats. The tightening sensation strengthened, and I knew that my
climax was inevitable. No more wait...

Santa tightened the squeeze of his legs, pulling me all the way in and
holding me there. At this point I was barely moving a quarter of an inch in
and out; his passageways tightened around me and milked me.

"You..." escaped my mouth. "You... have..." I couldn't finish my
thought. The breath was blown out of me and replaced with impossible
amounts of bliss. All my limps and muscles tensed and went rigid, and I
made an incredible moan.

I began pushing down hard on Santa's entire body. He put his arms around me
and held me close, my head now resting just above his shoulder; our mouths
now at each others ears. His beard tickled the side of my face, adding
itself to the heaping mound of pleasure I was experiencing.

He squeezed mightily again with his sweet anal ring, and I continued with
my indescribably slight movement. Santa spoke into my ear, "My son... my
love, nothing even... nothing compares to you."

I gasped in extreme pleasure and my eyes filled with joyous tears.

He continued, his voice tainted with pleasure, "You're handsome, sexy and
full of life. You were so perfect... I have never cum harder for anybody in
the past, and I doubt I ever will again."

I whimpered deeply and passionately into Santa's ear, making him embrace me
harder. I too embraced him back, and the two of us squeezed each other
together as I felt my balls relax and my cock convulse.

"Thank you," was the phrase he uttered to me as I stopped my breathing and
ejaculated uncontrollably inside of Santa Claus.

I cried out in ecstasy again as my hot boy-semen poured forth from my cock
and splashed within him. The multitude of surges rained down inside him,
coating his walls. His embrace barely allowed for any movement of my hips,
but I could not help but wiggle my waist as my cherished fluids were
extracted from within me.

The convulsions of my dick were stronger and sharper than I've ever felt
them before, and I never thought that I could possibly store so much
cum. My body was so stiffened and overwhelmed by the feelings that it felt
as though my life force- my essence- was pouring out.

Santa squeezed his insides again, deliberately trying to milk up as much
silver gift as he can. I whimpered again vulnerably into Santa's ear as I
hit my eight, ninth, tenth spurts. I hugged the man as tight as I could,
blown away still by the feeling of my semen flowing tenderly into his ass.

At this point I tried to make words for him, but I couldn't. The energy was
sucked out of me. I had nothing left.

I began running out of cream to distribute, and my convulsions were
diminishing. Santa tore me off of him a bit and looked into my eyes as the
pleasure faded. He panted and smiled at me, filling me with pride and
happiness. His eyes were applauding me; praising me for what I had
accomplished. These new thoughts overwhelmed me, replacing the rapidly
disappearing lust.

When everything inside me became quiet, and all I could feel was the
sticky, built-up mess within Santa's warm orifice, we looked at each other,
and I made a motion that coaxed a squeeze from his legs and words from his
mouth.

"Please... please, my son, don't pull out..." He pleaded. "You're just so
silky. Your life-giving seed so spectacular. Please... let's stay here for
a while."

"I don't understand," I breathed. "Kids come to you for this?"

He sighed, "Yes, my son. It... when I started doing this there was one boy
who had his own Santa fetish and... the two of us made love in the
washrooms. That was three years ago... but last year there were a handful
of boys, each with their own little thing."

I made a weak pant, my eyes still staring deep into his.

He continued, "It seems words spread around. Many young men came to see me
this year. But it wasn't much more gratifying..."

I spoke slowly and feebly, "And why's that?"

"Because they all wanted to use me," he said. "Only this one other boy
decided to give me a good stroking job but it was nothing..."

"Santa..." I bemoaned.

"Why, just a few days ago I got the worst mannered boy." He said. "Told me
to drop the act as soon as we got here to my home and keep the costume as
he had his way with me."

My heart sunk in my chest, "Trevor?"

"Yes, I believe that was his name," he said. "Do you know him?"

Shit! That was the last thing I wanted to hear! My best friend slept with
Santa, my precious love, before I did?

"Yeah... sort of..."

"Oh dear," the man said. "I'm sorry. But the boy was so rude, and didn't
even satisfy any of my needs. Just dragged me by my ear to the bed, dug
himself into my ass as you are now and had his way."

I frowned, "Sounds like a jerk."

"But if it makes you feel any better," Santa said again. "The boy wasn't
nearly any good. After only ten thrusts he was done. Didn't even release
much spunk, either."

I laughed; that did make me feel better.

"Oh, son," he started. "I want you to know that you've been the best lover
I've ever had and ever will. I hope I was good for you."

"Santa," I said. "You've made my fantasies come true. Thank you... so
much." My cock was still drenched inside him, but I did not pull out. This
talk of Trevor and Santa being will all these other boys worked me up some.

He spoke, "My son, I sincerely wish you didn't have to part yourself from
me. I feel so complete with you in me."

I smiled, "You know, Santa, I may not have to just yet. Because, if you let
me, I think I can manage another go."

He started squeezing me into an embrace again, "That would be perfect."

With a bit of a rockiness in my body, I stiffened and straightened my legs,
digging my utterly sensitive parts deeper into Santa again, sloshing around
my departed goodness. He sighed, this time much more lovingly.

"Send me to heaven again, love," I said to him. "I can feel the reservoirs
within you. It's different, and I like it."

He smiled lewdly, "Go on and do it, my son."

I prepared myself, ready for another round of incredible passion and lust
with the object of my desires and fantasies, this perfect Santa Claus.

"Let me receive your cock again."