Holy Santa

Ho Ho Ho

It was the night before Christmas and I was home alone.

Snow was coming down hard enough that the streetlight outside looked like it was underwater. It was so bad, I thought we had Christmas floats going down our road, which I soon realized weren’t floats but cars floating on the melting snow.

I’d made mulled wine earlier, mostly out of habit. The smell of orange peel and cloves still hung in the room, sweet and faintly burnt. The second glass sat empty on my coffee table.

I had given up on Christmas Eve around nine, which felt early but also merciful. Netflix was on in the background; with shit I’ve watched, shit I don’t care about and shit that makes me consider canceling my account. The apps were dead in that way that isn’t about me, but more about timing. I assumed the usuals were all doing family essentials.

My family are all sitting around congratulating themselves on voting for the guy who’s currently fucking the country, while I’m at home just happy to fuck anyone.

My microwave went off. I got up to retrieve dinner five; mac and cheese from the supermarket, that would fill me up until I was ready for dinner six. I figured if I was eating mac and cheese microwaved, it was time to put Tinder and others down and call the time of death.

By midnight I was naked on the sofa, the leather cold under me as I jerked off to boring bad porn with girls who would stare at the camera if only they could focus long enough.

I told myself I should go to bed, considering I had church at ridiculous o’clock, lunch with idiot family, brunch with extended idiot family, then friends for dinner. 

The porn was so bad, I was already visualizing dinner six; frozen pizza when there was a crash, a bang, an “Oh Jesus Christ,” followed by boots stomping around in my kitchen.

I stood, suddenly alarmed, realizing my clothes were all upstairs and I had no gun. Panic set in. I’d have to run past the kitchen to get upstairs, but looked around my cozy space for a weapon.

I grabbed the nearest thing with weight. The History of America Almanac, with its hard cover and far too thick to read. Though it was heavy enough to matter. Given to me by my father, king of idiots, patriot of nothing and small town hero to two other siblings and a Valium-addicted wife. Always wondered what the hell I’d do with it, and now grateful this heavy book filled with even heavier but empty words, would have its moment to shine.

I crept to the kitchen doorway, book above my head and listening to the boots as they walked through my kitchen. Before I could mentally and physically prepare myself for battle, Santa walked in, carrying bags from Costco, dressed in a poorly fitting Santa outfit. He had a terrible beard that was falling off and kind of falling apart, and an oddly placed Santa hat.

He walked in, saw me, yelped, stumbled and flailed backward. His eyes were wild, bags flying as he fell into the back of my sofa. It tripped him and he fell backward. His head hit the table with a sound I felt in my teeth.

I dropped the book, grabbed my phone and called 911 as I walked around the sofa to get a better look at him.

I studied the silver-streaked man in his late forties or early fifties lying there in the Santa suit, and he still didn’t fit the profile of a Christmas Eve robber.

“Hey, are you okay?” I shook him, assessed the situation, but he was out cold. I put my hands on his chest and felt a heartbeat. Great, he’s alive. I put my ear to his mouth and could hear he was breathing. Checked the back of his head, and no blood, though a small bump where he hit my coffee table.

That’s when he opened his eyes.

His eyes were Mediterranean blue, vivid enough that I registered them before anything else about his face. Dazed, confused, his eyes circled around my head. It took him a few seconds, then he focused on me.

“Who… who are you?” His eyes narrowed and those thick brows knit together in genuine confusion.

“I’m wondering the same thing about you. You’ve just come through my house.”

His eyes moved down and he saw I was naked. 

He stared, then back at my face. “You’re naked.”

“Yeah, I do that when I’m jerking off alone on Christmas. Wasn’t expecting company.”

His eyes went to my face, then my hands, then back to my eyes again.

“Also, if you’re here to rob me, you’ve made several poor life choices. Not sure what burglary tools you’ve got in those Costco bags, but I’m just an office guy, not a bunch of money. But can give you my parents’ address, they’re loaded and Republicans.”

He smiled. “Thanks, but I wasn’t trying to rob you. Your dad paid my brother to deliver these and leave them under your Christmas tree…” he looked around. “Where the hell even is your tree?” he asked, scanning the room then returning to my dangling cock.

“Face is here,” I said, “why are you delivering for your brother? And what did my dad buy me? More stupid books? Coal?”

He blinked. “What?! No! Toys. Wait… you don’t look nine years old. Where’s your brother?”

I laughed. “Unless the toys are S&M, then they’re not for my brother. What address have you got and what kid’s name?”

Before he even opened his mouth, I knew exactly whose house he was supposed to be visiting.

“Wait… kid is fat, eleven, glasses. The dad’s always coming back from Costco with bags like the ones you were carrying. Lives across the road, white house, big brown door. Same as mine, except I did away with the lawn and paved it. Maintenance simplicity.”

He sat up, saw the pile of empty dinners on my table.

“That’s your dinner?”

“You’re not in a position to judge,” I said, not sure why my voice sounded so defensive.

He looked back at me, at my cock, then at my face, then smiled. 

Santa struggled to stand up. 

“Stop! Don’t move. Let me get you an ice pack.” 

“Thanks,” he said, but as I went to the kitchen, he managed to slide onto my sofa.

I returned and handed him the ice pack.

He took his Santa hat off, used it as a buffer for the cold pack. While a little messy, he had a thick head of grey-streaked hair. 

“Wait, you’re delivering for your brother? From Costco? Why? Bored?”

One hand held the ice pack to the back of his head, the other wiped one brow with the back of the other hand. 

“Yeah, always does this. Overcommits, then panics last minute. Took several deliveries on the other side of town and knew he’d never make this side, where I live. Even made me go pick up the bags from him.”

“You could have said no,” I offered, wondering why I was even engaging this man while I stood naked.

He kept glancing to my cock, then he’d look away, then look at me when he spoke.

“Yeah. He went through a tough time, finally back on his feet. Very proud of him, so often help him out. Lost his wife, a year after we lost our mom.”

I dug my toes into the rug and walked around the sofa, and sat at the other end. “I’m sorry to hear that. Well, that seems kind of you. What do you do?”

“ER doctor, actually working early tomorrow,” he checked his watch, which looked expensive.

For the first time, we both realized the porn was still playing. A blonde with massive, fake tits lay back while a black man ate her pussy. Her moans were as exaggerated as her tits.

The doctor turned to the television, then turned back to me. His eyes dropped to my cock again, then he smiled and looked up at me.

“Oh crap. I crashed through your back door while you’re jerking off to porn?”

I shrugged. “Didn’t say my life was glamorous.”

He smiled. Perfect white teeth, and soft features. I could imagine him tilting his head listening to people describe symptoms while he provided thoughtful answers.

“What do you do?” he asked me. 

I could tell he was avoiding looking at my cock, but given it was my house, I wasn’t interested in suddenly getting dressed.

“Architect. Overpriced offices,” was all I said.

“Sounds like you worked on the hospital boards.”

I smiled but said nothing more.

“I better go, these were due by midnight,” he said, but when he stood, he looked imbalanced, stumbled and sat back down just as quickly.

I rushed over to him and went to steady him too late, crouching in front of him. “Hey. Just give it a minute. You might have a concussion.”

He stayed where he was, one hand braced on the cushion, breathing evenly. “Possibly,” he said. “Not ruling it out.”

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and looked at me. “What day is it?”

“Christmas Eve.”

“And where are we?”

“My living room.”

He nodded, then shifted his feet slightly, testing his balance without standing. “Any nausea? Double vision? Headache worse than when I first sat down?”

“You tell me,” I said.

He gave a short breath that might have been a laugh. “I’m self-checking there’s no nausea, vision issues. Head hurts, but it’s not escalating.”

He pressed the ice pack more firmly against the back of his head and stayed still for another moment. “I’m not going anywhere fast, but I’m oriented and my balance is improving. If this were one of my patients, I’d tell him to sit, hydrate, and not make any heroic decisions for a while.”

“Including wandering back out into a snowstorm?”

“Especially that,” he said.

I went off and got him some water, and came back with a bottle from the fridge.

“Let me take those over for you. You can’t walk for a few minutes.”

I realized I was leaving my house to a complete stranger, but he didn’t look dangerous, other than the fact he’d just come through my back door unannounced.

He shook his head. “They’re expecting me in a Santa suit. He paid extra for him to wear this crappy suit.”

Twenty minutes after my mac and cheese, I’d lain on my sofa to jerk off to some babes, but somehow, shortly after that, I found myself shivering in a crappy Santa suit that smelled faintly of plastic and other people’s sweat, crossing the road with a bunch of Costco bags and explicit instructions.

The neighbor across the road’s house was exactly what I imagined someone who shops at Costco’s would look. One step down from Ikea with marginally less class.

As the doctor had informed me, the boy was giggling and watching from the landing stairs. When I emptied the bags under the tree, I took a bite of the cookie, a sip of the milk, and left.

I was back in my house in under five minutes, and the doctor was still on my sofa and in underpants.

The suit wasn’t insulated and just in the few minutes I’d been outside, my body temperature had dropped.

“I’m going to warm up some mulled wine. You should have some,” I commanded, “to warm you up, at least.”

I warmed up the mulled wine, poured two large mugs and returned to the living room and handed one to the doctor.

“What’s your name?” I asked him, “I’m Ed.”

“Rob,” he said, and politely leaned over to shake my hand.

“Sorry, again for crashing your evening,” he said, watching the blond get railed by the very hung black guy.

I took his Santa suit off and was naked again in my original spot on the sofa. “Nothing to be sorry about. Jerking off alone on Christmas Eve isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

He smiled. “Well, after this fake Santa delivery, I’d intended to go home, jerk off, sleep four hours and prepare for the traditional nightmare in ER on Christmas Day.”

I laughed. “Well, now we’re old friends and circumstance has you in underpants in my living room, and given you’ve already seen my cock, you’re welcome to jerk off with me,” I said jokingly.

He appeared to consider it for a moment, even though I was clearly joking.

“You’re right. I did crash your night. Least I could do is jerk off with you.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Because I was just messing with you?

But even as I said it, his hand went to stifle an erection I hadn’t noticed until he did that. Rob watched the porn while his hand began squeezing his cock.

Oh boy.

I was naked again, and my cock didn’t take long to get hard.

“I’m not doing this because I’m desperate and couldn’t get a girl,” I said, realizing too late I didn’t actually care what he thought.

He cast me a glance, then my cock, then my face again as if he pitied me. “That’s okay, I’m not jerking off with you because I felt sorry for you.”

I laughed. I kinda liked this guy.

We pulled his briefs down and his cock sprung out. He was about a similar size to mine, maybe seven-inch, good thickness and cut. I was surprised how much I liked having someone to jerk off with.

He looked over, then our eyes locked for a second. I felt awkward, but apparently he didn’t.

“We’re just two guys, jerking off together on Christmas Eve,” he said, with a wink, then returned his focus to the porn.

I looked away for a second. He had a nice cock, but this was weird.

When I looked back, Rob was staring at my cock, and then he licked his lips.

“Ever been blown by a guy?”

“No!” I said a little too quickly. 

We were silent a few minutes as we slowly jerked off. 

“Have you?” I asked him after a few beats.

Our eyes locked again and he nodded. “A couple of times.”

I had no issues with being blown by a guy, though I’d never done it. The mention of being blown however, had me leaking.

He noticed. “Looks like your cock is leaking. Must have said something right,” he said.

I nodded. “Guess the idea of getting blown is kind of hot.”

“I haven’t done it for a while, and given the concussion, might not be the best, but will give it a shot.”

“I haven’t sucked a cock at all. But happy to try it.”

We jerked for a bit longer, while the blond bent over and moaned as the black guy took her up the butthole.

“That’s really hot,” Rob said.

“Yeah? You like being fucked too?”

He smiled. “I meant her being railed. Never been fucked, have you?”

I shook my head. “Never done anything with a guy really.”

He seemed surprised. “I thought we all did it during college. At least once.”

I smiled. “Not all of us.”

Rob moved forward and turned to my cock, then looked at me as if asking permission. I leaned back and held my cock out for him.

He shifted over and kneeled in front of me, putting my cock in his hands. Considering he’d been outside earlier, his hands had warmed incredibly. They wrapped around my cock beautifully.

The moment he touched my cock, I wanted nothing more than to be sucked off. Didn’t care who was doing the sucking.

He watched me one more time before he opened his mouth and licked the tip. He tasted my precum like a sommelier might sample wine.

“Mmmhmmm,” he moaned, then sucked on the head of my cock.

I threw my head back and sucked in breath and opened my legs. If that was how he started, he could do whatever he wanted.

As if it couldn’t get any better, he took it all. All of it went down his throat. 

Goddamn!

This fake Santa knew exactly what he was doing.

I spread my legs wider, feeling his hands stroking the inside of my thighs and between my legs as his mouth expertly sucked my cock. He settled between my legs, when I looked down, his eyes were closed and he looked completely relaxed.

I wondered if I could actually blow him. I was curious about it. He seemed like a nice enough guy, other than the ill-fitting Santa suit and crashing through my back door on Christmas Eve that is.

When his mouth opened and he once again swallowed all of it, and his hands cupped my balls, I knew without a doubt that I would suck him off.

I reached down and stroked his hair, parting those grey streaks in his hair with my fingers as he made love to my cock like he’d done this a hundred times.

“You’re really good at this!” I said, breathless.

He pulled it out and looked up. “I’ve missed sucking on a cock, actually. Really enjoying it. Thank you for the compliment,” he said, before disappearing onto my cock again.

I completely melted into my sofa, legs wide with the doctor in between them, letting him suck me as much as he wanted.

Pretty soon, I was about to nut. 

“Fuck! I’m pretty close,” I said, my voice unintentionally hoarse.

He paused. “Do you want to cum?”

I thought about it. 

“No. I want to return the favor. I’ve never sucked a cock.”

He smiled, stood and sat next to me, stroking my leg. “Go for it,” he said.

I liked his energy. There was something about this Rob guy that was appealing. He was very good looking, interesting as fuck and surprisingly great at giving head.

I dropped to my knees in front of Rob. “Never done it, so feel free to give me pointers.”

As I put my hands around his shaft, touched his balls and explored his cock, I saw precum leak out of the tip. I wasn’t sure why Rob was already moaning like I’d done anything, but happy that touching him made him feel that way.

I licked his balls and his shaft, and he moaned. I licked the tip and tasted his precum, and he moaned. I sucked on the shaft, tasting it on the outside before putting it in my mouth and his hands stroked my hair as he moaned.

When I eventually opened my mouth and put the head of his cock in, he pulled my hair and he swore.

“Fuck!” he hissed.

I opened my mouth and let more of it slide in. He bucked up, pushing his pelvis up and forcing his cock deeper into my mouth. I gagged, moved off, but didn’t let it out completely. I returned to sucking his cock, and this time, I moved all the way down to his balls, so my nose buried in his pubic hair.

I stroked his legs as he had done to me, realizing how fit he was, and how muscular his legs were. In fact, it was the first time I noticed how fit his body was. A small amount of fine hairs around his well-defined pecs and plenty of it around his balls and his cock.

I didn’t think I was particularly good at it, but tried to copy how he’d sucked mine. 

“Damn! You’re good!” he said as I continued to suck on it.

I could tell he was getting close, so I slowed down.

“Want to cum on my chest together?” he asked me.

I nodded, and got up and sat next to him.

We jerked off, watching each other.

At close range, he turned to me. “Do you kiss?” 

I stared at his cock. 

Did I? I had no idea. 

“It’s cool if you don’t.”

I shook my head. “I’ve just never kissed a guy.”

“Want to try it?” he said.

I shrugged, but turned to look at him. He smiled; a cute smile.

Sure.

I leaned in.

Our lips touched.

We kissed as we jerked off.

I did like it, and the more we kissed, the more heated it got, the more I enjoyed it.

At first, when his tongue slipped in and touched mine, I wasn’t sure what to think, but when mine instinctively met with his, and we kissed, while we stroked, I warmed to it.

He put an arm around my shoulders while he jerked off and kissed me. I was a lot more turned on than I ever thought I could be.

His tongue was hot; moving with mine, licking my tongue as our lips entwined. 

I hadn’t had a passionate kiss like that in a very long time.

I was so close. I could hear him moan as he jerked off.

For a second, his lips parted and he whispered, “I’m pretty close,” before reconnecting with my lips.

My tongue was busy, but I managed to make an affirmative sound.

I felt hot jizz squirt all over my chest before I even blew my load. The second I felt the first drop on me, I exploded too.

We sprayed ourselves with jizz.

He breathed heavy next to me, pulling out of the kiss and moving his head back.

I smiled and threw my head back, trying to catch my breath.

“Damn. That was a nice surprise,” he said.

“Merry Christmas,” I said.

He laughed. “Merry Christmas to you too Ed. Wish we hadn’t cum so quick. I was really considering letting you fuck me.”

“Not too late is it?” I asked him.

I could feel him staring, so I opened my eyes and watched him.

“Seriously? Can you cum again?” he asked me, looking down at my softening cock.

I grinned. “At Christmas, if I’m interrupted by Santa, I can generally cum multiple times, with a short break in between, of course,” I said.

He smiled. “What do we do in the short break?”

I got up, assessing how much jizz we both were wearing. “Mulled wine?”

He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a few hours before emergency, and so why the fuck not.”

Thanks for reading my Christmas story. 

If this gets 10 restacks in the next 24 hours, I’ll write and release exactly what happens next.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it and happy holidays to those who don’t.

Ho. Ho. Ho.