Date: Sat, 25 Dec 2010 17:23:52 -0500
From: tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: The Christmas Kid

			     THE CHRISTMAS KID
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     I was lying down behind the presents under the Christmas tree, wearing
only an old, oversized sweater I'd found on the couch, the neck insisted on
hanging over one shoulder and it came down only to above my knees when I
stood up, but it was warm and soft and had a smell that made me feel all
safe and warm and loved. When the man came in I'd hidden back here, under
the tree and behind the presents. Hoping he wouldn't notice me here long
enough for him to go to bed and let me stay here, stay the night in this
living room, with this tree, all lighted and beautiful, the fire in the
fireplace (a fake fireplace, but a nice warm fire in it just the
same). Have this much Christmas for myself, not my home, not my tree, not
my presents...but a bit of Christmas just the same.
     The man was on the phone, talking and he wasn't very merry. In fact,
he was angry. "No, you can't bring them by next week instead! It's my turn
to have them for Christmas. That was the agreement, we get to trade off
every year. It's already eight o'clock on Christmas Eve, you're two hours
behind now, so put them in the car and drive them over here, now!"
     A pause, then he said. "I didn't say they could go to Paris! Who goes
to Paris to celebrate Christmas, anyway? And even if you left now, you
wouldn't get there until..." In sudden suspicion. "You're already there,
aren't you? You loaded my children, MY CHILDREN, into a plane and flew them
to Paris without even consulting me! Do orders laid down by the divorce
judge mean one damned thing to you? Now you get my children back on a plane
and get them to my house, and I mean now, damn it! If I don't have them in
my house by the end of Christmas Day, I'll haul your ass in front of the
judge before the end of the year, you understand me, I.... Shit!" He
slammed down the phone, and put his fist up against his jowl, lost in a
study.
     He'd come in dressed in construction worker clothes, a plaid shirt,
blue jeans, yellow hardhat on his head. Those had been discarded in his
shower (and I'd taken the time to move from behind the couch to my hiding
place under the tree), and now he was only in a big, heavy bathrobe. Both
the clothes and the robe showed his body well, he was a powerful man, with
thick bulging muscles on his arms, chest and legs, hairy without being
completely covered with hair, the body hair the same deep black as on his
head. His face wasn't handsome but it was rugged, solid, dependable
looking, a man who you looked at and trusted right away. I'd have given
anything to have him as my father, and never let my mother take me away
from this man for Christmas, not even to Paris. The thought of those arms
around me lovingly and warm on Christmas made me shiver every time I
imagined it, and under that tree, and hearing his voice, I'd had a lot of
time to imagine it. Knowing what I knew now, the desire to have him hold me
got stronger and stronger, enough for me to do what I did.
     And I got up from behind the tree and crawled out and stood up before
him. "You don't have anyone for Christmas either, huh?"
     He was surprised, seeing a strange youngster in front of him clad only
in his sweater. I was thin and scrawny, with a mess of blond hair and
beneath the sweater barely hanging onto me were my legs, thin sticks of
pale white. Me, standing in front of his big, beautiful, lit Christmas tree
and all those joyfully wrapped presents that now, no one else would see and
no one else would open up.
     "What the hell? Who are you?" He got out.
     "I'm Billy." I told him. "I ran away from the Children's Home. Your
door was open and I saw it and came in to get warm and dry." I'd fallen in
the snow into a puddle. The weather wasn't cold enough to freeze that
entire puddle, I'd broken through ice into enough water to soak most of the
front of my body. That was when I'd started looking for a place to hide and
get warm and maybe dry out. When I'd seen the front door barely cracked
open, a yellow bar, in front of me, it was like the answer to my prayers,
and when I'd gotten into the living room, all gold-colored and warm and
that tree glittering with a hundred lights and sparkling with a hundred
ornaments. The answer to my dreams.
     Not all orphanages are bad ones. I'd been in one that was really,
really nice, but lately because I was older, they'd moved me to the one I'd
run away from. That one was bad, I mean really, really, REALLY bad. Bad
enough to make me run away from it two days before Christmas. First day
away from the Home hadn't been too bad, but the next one, Christmas Eve,
the cold had gotten to me and I'd started looking for a place to get warm.
     "I'm Jake. Jake Devers. Why are you wearing my sweater?" he wanted to
know.
     "I got wet outside." I said. "I took my clothes off to get dry, and
for me to get warm. I was going to be gone by morning, I was just staying
here long enough to get warm."
     "I'd better call the Children's Home." Jake mused. "They'll be worried
about you."
     "Please don't!" I begged him. "Not now, not tonight! Can't I spend
Christmas here with you? You're all alone for Christmas, too! And you have
this tree, and this house and it's just so nice! Can't I stay here with
you, just for Christmas? You can call them the day after, couldn't you,
instead? Please?"
     Jake wet his lips, hard. Remember that he'd planned to spend the
holiday with his children. Probably had set up with a restaurant to deliver
a real Christmas meal and everything. He had all this holiday set up...and
nobody to spend it with. "I guess I can do that." he said.
     "Hooray!" I yelped and jumped up onto his lap and into his arms and
hugged him. "Oh, thank you, thank you!"
     All I'd intended to do is get myself into his lap and into his arms,
which I got. He was a man who wasn't going to hold his children, and I was
a child and like me, he was taking what he could get for Christmas. But he
wasn't wearing anything under his robe, and I wasn't wearing anything under
the sweater. I landed on his lap straddle-wise, and my legs caused his robe
to slide open.
     I was in his lap, and my dick was resting right up against his! I
didn't realize right away what had happened, too busy enjoying the feel of
his warm, strong body and arms around me. It just felt so good, an orphaned
child is always hungry for physical affection. Maybe too affectionate, it
can do things to your mind, not being touched, not being loved. Of course,
the same thing can be said when you find yourself deprived of your children
for Christmas. It can leave you empty, lonely, hungry....needing.
     So with his arms around me, mine around him, our cocks rubbing against
each other. It was all so innocent, neither of us intending anything. But
with the need, with the touching, with the emptiness...that changed.
     I felt his cock jerk and expand. It didn't feel like anything wrong,
it felt...kind of nice. Not like that time in the Home a week before, when
the two older kids had trapped me in the bathroom and made me do things
with them. That had been wrong. This...this just felt nice. His cock was
pushing against mine and it felt so good, my own dick got hard. When you're
as young as me, you still can get a hard on. And living in orphanages, you
learn all about sex really, really young.
     I looked into his eyes, at his soft gentle eyes in that big, strong
body, his lips open and yearning, and I began to rub my cock back and forth
on his. It got bigger and harder.
     "Billy." Jake said to me, softly.
     I put my hand on his cheek. "It's okay. I'm lonesome tonight, too."
     The sweater was long on me, but I could get my hands out when I wanted
to. I got my hands out and down and wrapped them around his cock and
mine. Holding us together.
     He gulped hard, swallowed and said, "You don't have to do this,
Billy. You can stay with me for Christmas, you don't have to do this."
     "I want to." I assured him. "Please?"
     He stopped protesting and just laid his head back and moaned as I
worked both our puds. He was getting so nice and big and hard, so much
bigger than those older kids at the Home. He groaned and a big wet sloppy
glob of precome gushed out. I smelled it, that heavy, raunchy aroma, and it
was so much like him, so thick and strong and male.
     I slid out of his lap and down between his legs, never letting go of
his cock and fed it into my mouth.
     "Oh, ohh, ohhhh!" he gasped out, as my tongue flickered the underside
of his cock, stroking across the rib of seam that holds the skin of the
shaft together. My lips milked at this skin, pulling it up over the large
bulb of the glans. Tasting the precome that flooded out when I did this,
the essential flavor of this big, strong, loving, gentle man. I wrung all
that juice of him that I could, and when it flagged and his shaft was
coated and thick with my saliva, I looked up at him and smiled around his
cockshaft, and he smiled back at me, a small laugh escaping his lips.
     "And I thought I was in for the worst Christmas ever." he sighed.
     "Me, too." I agreed, letting his shaft go. "And then I found your
house and I knew that everything would be all right after all."
     I stood up and shucked the sweater. "And it turns out that we have a
present to give each other after all."
     Jake didn't understand, even when I got back onto the couch, standing
over him. My hands on his shoulders, I lowered myself, and then he
understood.
     "You...you're not able to take it!" he gasped out. "You couldn't
possibly...." The sentence ended in a moan as my butthole contacted his
glans.
     "You're bigger than the boys in the bathroom last week." I told
him. "But I took them, and I think I can take you. Especially since I want
to."
     Jake moaned again and I let my weight push him up into me. It hurt,
quite a bit, but once you've been stretched that way, once you learn how to
let it not hurt you too much, you can really take a bit more and more. When
I got his cockhead and part of the shaft into me, I carefully lowered
myself down onto one knee. That made it hurt a little, but I held still
until it stopped, then lowered down onto the other knee. Now only my height
above my knees over his rather substantial legs was all that held me off of
his cock. I wormed my ass cheeks and it slid in another inch or two all of
a sudden. I gasped, threw my head back and moaned.
     And he moaned as well, and his hands clamped onto my buttocks and held
them apart. That helped a lot. I squirmed and that got more of it in and I
sank blissfully onto his lap once again.
     "Oooh, oooh!" I sighed up at Jake. "You like your present from me?"
     "It's great!" He agreed with a throaty whispering sound. "But what am
I giving you here?"
     "I'll have to get it out of you." I said and began to rise up and down
on his dong.
     Jake moaned again and gasped, "You shouldn't have to work for your
present."
     He grabbed my buttocks again and lifted me bodily up with him off the
couch. Turned and lowered me onto my back on the couch, still impaled on
him and then he was on top of me on the couch, his big cock now totally
under his control.
     "Now I'll give you a present you'll never forget." he breathed down at
me.
     My response was to wrap my arms and legs around him and hung on
tight. Both arms and one leg were underneath his robe, I was holding onto
his bare body, mostly, arms on his ribcage, hands on his muscled, rippling
back, leg on his slender hip, foot on his hairy buttock. It all felt good,
so very, very good!
     His face was a golden gleam in the lights of the room, the lights that
blinked and the ornaments that glittered on the three all made themselves
known in the way the gold of his face changed and shadows shifted and all
of it was warm, so very, very warm.
     "Billy!" he sighed to me.
     "Oh, Jake!" I groaned. "Those boys in the bathroom, they made me do
this. But I want to with you, I want you to, please, come on, fuck me,
Jake, fuck me!"
     "Yeah, Billy, yeah." Jake breathed and his hips began to move his cock
in and out of me. It was so big, so warm, so thick and alive, and it was in
me and it was loving me and it was in me, and I wanted it to stay in there
and never, never come out, because as long as it was in me, Jake was
holding me, loving me, I never wanted it to stop, never!
     "Never stop, Jake, never stop loving me!" I groaned as he fucked me. I
want you to fuck me forever, not just Christmas. Love me forever, Jake,
forever."
     "Oh, God, Billy, my boy, my baby, my little love." Jake whispered in
my ear as his big body hunched at me. "Such a sweet, tight ass. The best
Christmas present ever, Billy, the best ever."
     "Give me my present, Jake!" I begged him. "Give me your present, fill
me full of it, please, fill me full!"
     "Oh, baby, oh, oh, oh, oh!" Jake's thrusts into my body were taking on
a jerky, frantic tone. He was close, so close, to coming. I felt his body
rising into the state of ecstatic joy and my own body grabbed that feeling
and converted it into my own body, I struck my own climax and cried out in
my joy, my body tight and rigid and he was humping me and he shook,
shivered, and suddenly drove in deep and held it there.
     "Here it comes, baby, here it comes!" he gasped and then he moaned a
long, low, loud moan and the hot jizz shuddered through his shaft, I felt
it rushing through his dong and it burst deep into my bowels, all hot and
salty and juicy and full. There was so much of it that it squirted out
around Jake's cock and gushed onto my buttocks and onto the couch beneath
us, and his hot breath rushed at my face as he gasped and groaned and blew
it onto me, the rich male scent in his sweat beaded on his body filled my
nostrils, the groans filled my ears, the sight of his face locked in orgasm
filled my eyes and his body was filling my embrace, all of him in all of
me, his hot shaft throbbing inside my ass.
     He finished, his elbows holding his weight off of me somewhat, but the
heaviness of him pinned me under him, and that felt right, exactly right,
and I looked at his face, eyes closed in his bliss, above me and I reached
up and I kissed those lips of his gently, and he kissed me back and the
kiss went on and on and it was wonderful, just wonderful.
     "And that was your present to me." I sighed when he let that kiss go
at last. "The best Christmas present I ever had. Thank you."
     "No, Billy." he said. "Thank you. You've made my Christmas." A light
entered his eyes. "And no reason for it to end now."
     He got up, his big body glistening in the lights, for the robe was
totally open now, barely hanging onto the edge of both shoulders, and he
didn't pull it back up, his cock was slimy and wet and dangled as he knelt
down by the tree, looked them over, and selected a package. "Here we
go. This is your Christmas present."
     "Mine?" I said. I saw him remove a tag. "But it's made out to...."
     "To my son who's about your age, and who I'm likely never going to get
to see again, except maybe when he's all grown up." He went on. "Cindy's
mother has taken them to Paris, she has a house there, and with all of them
in Paris, I got damn-all chance of getting them back any time soon."
     "I'm sorry." I said to him.
     "So you might as well get one of the presents I got for him." Jake
went on. "You'll enjoy it more than he would, the spoiled brat. His
mother's bought him every toy that was ever made. Nothing I got can match
that."
     "Thank you." I said and looked at the box. "Uh, can I save it for
tomorrow morning and open it then? For Christmas."
     "Sure." Jake said. "Tomorrow and the next day and the next day. No
reason for them to find where you are until after the holidays, at least."
     I fastened onto those last two words. "Yeah, at least."
     "Are you hungry?" Jake offered. "I could fix you something to eat."
     "I'd like that." I said. And Jake went into the kitchen. Me, I pulled
that big sweater back on, the one that smelled just like Jake, and cuddled
up on the couch and watched the Christmas tree, blinking their message of
joy and happiness.
     It was going to be a terrific Christmas.

				  THE END
		   Comments, complaints or suggestions?
		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM