Christmas presence

by Also Known As   

A man with a real talent for fooling around meets a guy named Nick who’s game to show him all the possibilities of fucking he’s never even dreamed of.

Admittedly, it was not the first time I had been awoken from a trip to erotic dreamland—all my dreams tend to end up with me fucking someone or being fucked, I’m just lucky that way I guess—to find a half-naked man in my bedroom, though this was the first time that I had no idea who that man was.

There would be many, many firsts to come—heh, “come.” Sorry. I may not be a spring chicken anymore, but I still manage to have a dirty mind nearly 24/7. I think it’s charming and attractive! Many others disagree, but fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke, am I right?

On the other hand, perhaps that accounts for me being sans partner and finding myself alone on Christmas. Not that I mind particularly. Long-term relationships grow stale so quickly, and even when we agree to have an open one it always seems to end with them falling dramatically in love with some recent conquest and me standing there with my dripping hard-on hanging out. All I want to do is fuck. No strings attached. Leashes and restraints, possibly, but definitely no strings.

Because I like to fuck, and I like being fucked, and I like fucking and being fucked by a wide variety of men, none of whom I would have considered husband material. Plus—and this isn’t just ego talking—I’m very, very good at it. Fucking. Like it’s my…calling. Or something.

For one thing, all those emotional commitments tend to curb my libido, and being horny is my favorite pastime. You know what I’m talking about? Feeling all horned up and your cock is throbbing and your breath is short and you start sweating for no reason other than you’re suddenly just uncontrollably horny? 

For another thing, usually when I’m with a dude I’m already hungry for the next one. A new challenge, a new cock, a new ass. All out there ready, willing, and able to satisfy my next hunger.

Sorry, I’m getting a bit off track. Let me get back to that half-naked man in my bedroom.

I’m not certain what woke me up. He wasn’t making a particularly loud amount of noise, undressing in the corner like that. My bedroom was still very dark as it was somewhat early on Christmas morning, though I’m not sure of the exact time since my slumber-induced brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. But I could tell, at least, that there was clearly a strange man in the bedroom of my securely locked and otherwise empty apartment and he was undressing.

It was erotic watching him, though I’m not certain that was his intent at the time. More likely he was just being careful not to wake me for some reason. I mean, how else were we gonna fuck? He had already removed his top and it was lying on the floor, somewhat carelessly discarded I thought. His back was to me, and what a back it was! Wide, bulging with well-defined muscle, outfitted with shoulders a mile wide and waist narrow enough to give his upper body a very broad V-shape. The dude worked out.

He was gently humming something as he removed his clothing, something vaguely familiar to my sleepy brain, along with a few grunts when it came time to pull his shiny black boots off. He hopped a bit and the room shook with his weight. I was still abed so getting a realistic grip on his overall height and weight wasn’t easy, but I could tell that this was a large and muscular man.

I started to go over the litany of lovers I had enjoyed over the past few weeks or months, trying to determine which one decided that a booty call was in order on Christmas morning and was so enthused about it that they decided to just break into my apartment and get naked without so much as a “u up?” text.

Someone from the gym, possibly? He was certainly bulky, so maybe a trainer or the owner, a man whose company I had enjoyed in the locker room, the shower, and the sauna but never here at my place. Dude had a huge cock. Enormous. My own throbbed with the memory of it penetrating my ass so deep I could practically taste the pre leaking from the head. Then in the dim light I made out that the hair on his head was snowy white, not dark like the gym owner’s, what’s his name? Rob? Rick? Something simple like he was. I rubbed my cock and looked at his hair. It was a bit messy, in an attractive way, and he had a deep, melodic voice if the song he was humming was any indication.

Curiously, I wasn’t feeling the least bit scared or frightened by this stranger in my bedroom. Only curious and increasingly aroused. Like, while my dick might normally be cowering away, sucked up inside my loins like a turtle hiding from a predator, it was joyously and powerfully throbbing towards an award-winning erect position, hot and hard and growing thicker and longer by the second, and already leaking an award-winning amount of warm, slick pre.

On the one hand, I am an avowed slut. I’ll drop trou at the slightest provocation if I think the dude is hot and I’m feeling horny, which is kind of a guaranty anyway what with me being a slut and all. A dude can make eye contact with me across a crowded bar one minute and the next we’re slamming our butts against the wall of the bathroom stall trying to manage a mutually satisfying blowjob. And having this dude so handy right there in my bedroom was both convenient and more than a little hot in a “I do what I want and take what I want” kind of way, which I am into.

So I cleared my throat and said, “It’s customary to call first, you know. Not that I object particularly.”

He stopped singing and straightened. He was very tall, very broad, very muscular and he smelled not unappetizingly like wood smoke, sweat, leather, and, curiously, pine. The first word he said was, “Fuck.”

“I mean, sure?” I said, sitting up in bed and adjusting my burgeoning—and suddenly very hungry for ass—dick. “But shouldn’t we get introductions out of the way?”

He turned around and a sensation of being both chilled and heated passed over me. “Hi,” he said. Indeed, his voice was absurdly deep, colored with a British-sounding accent, even when he spoke a bit softly. In the darkness of the room I couldn’t make out much, except that from the front he looked even bigger. 

The man owned a chest that had seen more than its fair share of weight benches. His arms were mounted with fat slabs of muscle and his narrow waist was favored with what was at least a six-pack and could be more like an eight- or ten-pack, which I had previously considered a mythical beast.

He reached up and scratched his chin, which was covered in a thick, white beard, full and snowy. A stray lock of his equally white hair fell over his eyes and he pushed it back, making his biceps swell outrageously. 

“Hello yourself,” I said. 

“I suppose you’re wondering….” He left the sentence unfinished, and vaguely waved his hands before him illustrating both his undressed state and what the hell he was he doing in my bedroom.

Why wasn’t I sacred? Even a little bit? All I was was horny, and he was the center of that sensation, as if a need for sex was pouring off him so strongly that it was soaking into my skin. “A little, yeah. I mean, I’m up for…whatever this is. But when it comes time for me to start moaning your name while you fuck me, it would be helpful to know what your name is.”

“Nick,” he said. “Though some people call me Kris. With a K?”

“Kris. With a K?” He licked his lips and nodded. That stray lock of curly white hair fell across his gaze again. “Or Nick? I’m afraid it doesn’t ring any bells.”

He laughed slightly. “Bells are kind of my thing, too, now that you mention it.”

“Uh huh. So, Nick or Kris with a K, what makes me so lucky tonight? Or should I say this morning?” I started to reach for the lamp on my nightstand to throw some light on the conversation and he was suddenly next to the bed with his hand on mine. It was warm, rough, callused, manly. 

“I should probably warn you that I’m not like the other guys.”

“What other guys?”

“All the other guys.”

I turned on the light.

“Holy Jesus!” I nearly shouted in surprise but it was more like a prayer, and specifically a prayer that had been answered.

“No,” he said, straightening again, “I’m the other Christmas guy.”

With the light on, by dick suddenly surged to full power and nearly started spitting cum right then, because the man before me was a wet dream made real.

He was tall, his head nearly brushing the eight-foot ceiling in my apartment, and owned a body that would be nearly guaranteed a podium at Mr. Olympia. To say that the man was built would be an understatement of mythic proportions.

Heh. “Mythic.” Pretty apropos.

He stood there shirtless with his pants half-undone. That chest that resembled two beach balls mounted on his upper body was positively swimming in a thick wealth of white curly fur. It stretched across those pecs like a carpet, with his two fat, chewable nipples pushing out like invitations to play.

He had broad shoulders, a thick neck, full, kissable lips and bright blue eyes. His skin was ruddy, with thick veins traversing along his limbs feeding blood into biceps and triceps nearly unbelievably huge and powerful.

He just stood there looking down at me, nearly motionless except for the other thing that drew my slutty eyes—a fat length of prick inside his undone pants lying along his hip that was now, quite clearly, throbbing and swelling and lengthening with mind bending speed. 

I looked at it and said, “Well, someone’s happy to see me.”

He laughed slightly and moved his hands to his crotch, outlining that impressive bulge and making it even more clear that what I was seeing was no trick of way his pants clung to him. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m kinda horny.”

I threw back my covers to reveal the prize winning erection he’d inspired. “Same,” I said, smiling.

He looked at my cock and licked his lips. “Fuck,” he said again. 

“In due time, don’t you worry about that.” I stroked myself a couple of times and then pulled the covers back, hiding my hard on from his obviously hungry gaze. “But I’m kind of old fashioned about a couple of things.”

“I know,” he said with a frankly filthy smile. “But which things are we discussing in particular?”

“Well, first of all, how did you get in here? Did I give you a key because our fuck was so transcendent that I wanted you to be able to break in whenever the desire hit you?” Which sounded like something I might do in a fuck-drunk state. “And secondly, have we even met before, because I think I would remember you.” And your muscles. And your handsome bearded face. And that cock.

“I can get into anywhere I need to, and I needed to see you tonight. And we have met before, but it was a long time ago and I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“Okay. So you can pick locks when you’re horny and we met in a previous life or something. And you’re here to fuck, I assume, judging by that Hickory Farms summer sausage currently gaining poundage in your…” I looked down. “…unusually red pants.”

I blinked. I looked toward where he’d discarded his top. A matching red jacket or coat with white fur trim. Those black patent leather boots. 

“No fucking way,” I said. 

He shrugged. “Way.”

“Is this some kind of fetish?” I asked, sitting up fully. “I mean, I’m into it if it is.”

“What fetish in particular? The beard?” He stroked it. “The muscle?” He brought up his arms and flexed them to full power, allowing his lats to spread like wings and his shoulders to pile up into the Himalayas. “The cock?” He relaxed his impressive display of muscular size and power and reached his hand—hands—down to stroke and caress what looked like an award-winning length of very meaty man cock, swollen and still inching its way towards his hip.

I shook my head, though all those things were true. I fetishized the things that made men men. Fur, muscle, cock, their aroma, their voices, everything. But none of those were what I was referring to. “The… Santa thing.”

He leaned down and put his face right in front of mine. I could smell his breath, smoky tobacco. Fuck another fetish! He probably smoked cigars as well. His eyes were ice blue with long lashes. His beard was full and thick. “I ain’t no thing,” he growled, his voice deep and soft. “I’m the real deal, baby.” Then he slowly leaned all the way in and planted his lips against mine.

Fuck! Holy fuck! I could feel the sexual hunger in that kiss! I could feel his passion and need as he pushed his tongue inside my mouth to wrestle with mine. He was practically face fucking me with his tongue. His hands came up and surrounded my head. His lips and tongue were working some kind of magic. I wanted to dive inside his mouth and feel him kiss my entire body.

The kiss kept going. A deep, penetrating, touching my soul kind of kiss. It felt like the man hadn’t been kissed in weeks. Or months. A kiss that explained and defined his sexual and erotic hunger in no uncertain terms.

His hands left my head and he was struggling with something. I realized he was still trying to get his pants off. I reluctantly pulled my lips from his. “Lemme do that.”

“I’m so fucking horny,” he needlessly explained.

I decided to go with the fantasy, because why the fuck not? It was Christmas after all. “No Mrs. Claus to come home to?” I swung my feet to the floor and stroked my hard-on, feeling the strong tingles of sex erupting along every inch.

He stood up and looked down at me. His cock was comically huge and lodged in his Santa pants. “There is no Mrs. Claus. Just another convenient fiction everyone believes.”

I looked up as I set my fingers to the hem of his pants. “No Mr. Claus either?”

“I’m the only Mr. Claus up there. And I only get out once a year, so I try to make the most of it.”

“And this year you picked little old lucky me?” I licked the crotch of his pants, trailing my tongue along the hard, warm length of his prick.

“I know when you’ve been bad or good. And you’ve been very, very bad.”

“By which you mean….”

“Very, very good.” His smile was as filthy as ever. “Are you sure you want to do this? I haven’t exactly acted very….” Before he could finish that needless apology, I pulled down his pants in one go and when his cock sprang out to slap my face, I deftly and, I must say, with no little talent, managed to open my mouth and take in several inches of him before another word left those talented, warm lips of his.

He was, as indicated, huge! I mean, let’s not kid ourselves, I’ve been with some of the biggest cocks you can imagine. Thick ones, long ones, straight ones, bent ones. Cut and uncut. This one dude had—and I swear to Santa this is true—a thirteen-incher. It was kind of thin and he had a hard time getting himself all the way hard, so I treated it more like an adventure or something to conquer. 

We both came away happy, is what I’m saying.

But this dude—fine, Santa. Santa’s cock was on another plain of cock entirely. I mean, I only managed to take in a few inches of that thing at first, and I already knew the man wasn’t even fully erect yet! And still, as I reached up to grasp his meat, the thing was thick as a salami and only growing hotter, harder, and heavier as I solemnly sucked him.

But I had questions! And even as that popped into my head, he seemed to understand and anticipate me. He reached up to play with his own nipples—two fat peanut-sized mini erections poking up through all those thick snowy curls of man fur coating his massive pecs—and said, “Tell you what. You ask anything you want to, and I’ll answer it while you suck my dick.”

I nodded.

He smiled and shifted his hips to withdraw his cock from between my lips. I looked at it as he pulled it out and marveled at his size and beauty. It was a perfect cock, wet and shiny with my spit, thick and long and veiny. It tasted salty and sweet in my mouth, or maybe that was the precum he was leaking so copiously. “You said we met before?”

He pushed himself back inside and I began to suck and lick him again. Jesus, his taste was fucking addicting!

“Twenty years ago. You were just coming out. You saw me at a rather sad little gay bar on Christmas night where I was cruising for… this.” He pushed himself in so deeply I almost choked, but like the expert cocksucker I am I only gulped. “I could tell you wanted to be with me. Major daddy issues. Now who’s the daddy?”

I couldn’t laugh, obviously, but he had a point. Most of my hookups lately were young guys into older guys, and I was definitely that. Oh, I get to the gym weekly, watch my diet, don’t neglect leg day or cardio. I want to have lots of sex and looking good is one way to advertise. Sure, I’m in my 40s, but being sexy doesn’t stop just because you’re another decade older, right fellow daddies?

“It was in San Francisco. You had just moved there, hoping to sow some wild, butt-related oats. You weren’t out at work, and only two of your friends knew. I didn’t think you were ready for me, yet, but I had a strong feeling we’d meet again. And here we are!” He pulled himself free again. “I tend to need some pretty talented guys to satisfy my year-long dry spells. Usually it’s a dozen men, but tonight I’m all yours, if you’ll have me.” I nodded again. He smiled. “Next question?”

I started to swallow the extra spit in my mouth when he suddenly dropped to his knees and leaned his face towards mine, pushing our mouths together and sucking the saliva out. It was fucking hot! Then he stood up, spat my spit into his palm and lubed up his massive cock, slowly stroking as he continued growing bigger and bigger. 

“So, you’re Santa.” He nodded. “But no Mrs. Santa?”

“Do I look like I have a Mrs. Santa?”

“Santa is gay.”

“Santa is fucking gay. Mankissing, cocksucking, assfucking gay. Yes.”

I shook my head. “This is crazy.”

“That’s not a question.” His hand was making slow slick noises as he continued stroking himself.

“What about elves?”

“Elves?”

“Santa’s elves.”

“Open wide, baby.” He slipped himself inside again. “You’re not satisfied with just me? Are you so horny that you need more cock and ass to satisfy your desires?” He continued fucking my face as he lifted one hand and snapped his fingers.

There was an immediate flash of blue-white light and a sound like a bell ringing and I sensed something had changed in the room. My mouth was full of Santa cock—not a phrase I had ever anticipated using in any context but here we are—and as I gazed up to see what was happening I saw two more figures appear from behind Santa’s muscular bulk.

My eyes were tearing up from having so much fat, hard, monster dick in my mouth but I could make out that the two newest figures in my small room were naked men who looked exactly alike. Twins, then, with a few minor differences.

Mainly they were incredibly sexy. Not as muscular or bulky as St. Nick, but built more like gymnasts or swimmers with lithe, well-defined bodies and slimmer, but no less powerful-looking, muscles. Each elf was nearly hairless, save for mops of shoulder-length hair, one blonde, the other ginger, and thick pubic bushes crowning cocks that were long and thin. Each elf put an arm across Santa’s massive mountain range shoulders and looked down at me, smiling. They had smooth, handsome features, slightly feminine, with large, soft lips and narrow green eyes. 

“This is Rimmer,” Santa said, nodding toward the red head, “and Sucker. Singularly talented young elves with voracious sexual appetites.” They both smiled and licked those plump, soft lips. “I’d explain what their specialities are but I’m guessing you already know.”

My mouth was filled with wet, hot cock or I would have laughed. And then before I could do anything—not that I would have—Rimmer was moving behind me and pulling my cheeks open and Sucker was sliding himself beneath me and pulling my cock into his mouth.

To say that the elves were talented would be like saying that a banana cream pie is creamy. 

“As you can tell by now, my elves are rather good at their jobs. Sure, they don’t make toys or anything, but I’m sure you’ll agree that their time up north with me isn’t being wasted.” He extracted his mammoth prick, slick with spit, from my mouth and raised one eyebrow expectantly for my next question, but I was under the spell of the two elves and a bit distracted.

It felt fucking amazing being simultaneously blown and rimmed by these handsome, talented… beings. I had no idea how old they actually were—perhaps decades or centuries—but they looked to be about eighteen or twenty. Rimmer’s tongue and lips were doing things to my butt hole that had never been done before, and Sucker had swallowed my dick so easily that it felt as their my cock and his throat were a match made in heaven.

I was getting close to losing my control over what was feeling like the biggest orgasmic explosion the world had ever seen when Santa snapped his fingers again and another flash and bell went off. A third elf was in the room with us, looking like a triplet to the twins but this time his hair was blue! “Hi,” he said, looking down at me as I was sucking his boss’s dick and two of his brethren were servicing my undercarriage. “I’m Smoocher, but I bet you already guessed that.” 

The new elf looked up at Santa and said, “Are you gonna keep fucking his mouth or do I get to have some fun, too?”

“Be my guest,” the white-haired Daddy said, gesturing towards me. 

The third matching elf sank to his knees and took my head in his hands. “Hello,” he said, then his pressed his lips to mine and I almost lost consciousness. 

Santa was a great kisser, no doubt about it, but Smoocher was another level higher than that! Holy Christ on a pogo stick, I’d never even imagined that kissing could feel like that! And then add in my ass being royally rimmed and my cock being professionally sucked and I was suddenly in a sexual experience like no other! Fuck!

Santa sighed as he folded his thickly muscled arms over his white-furred pecs and seemed to be considering something. He stepped back and peered around my apartment bedroom and said, “I think we need a change of scenery. It’s getting a bit crowded in here.”

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers a third time.

I felt suddenly dizzy and disoriented and my vision was filled with white sparkles, like snow falling. When that cleared up and the ringing bell stopped ringing, I was still being simultaneously blown, rimmed, and kissed by the three elves but when I looked around it was obvious that either I was somewhere else entirely or I was in the same space but it had been given a serious upgrade.

“Welcome to Santa’s Sex Den!” 

This place had everything! Seriously! I mean, I like to think I’m pretty well versed in the art of sex, but along with the usual slings, benches, fuck machines and assorted S&M paraphernalia there were some serious weird- slash scary-looking contraptions that I was not only confused about but seriously concerned that anyone attempting to use them would end up without something pretty important like a limb or a pair of balls.

I actually didn’t want my elven four-way to end but curiosity got the better of me, plus when I looked at Santa again he looked even bigger! Like, muscles and cock and everything seemed to have gotten a pretty noticeable upgrade in the switch from my world to his.

A sudden warm wash of his special stink rained over me as if he was spraying musk straight from his sweaty armpits. His arms looked like they were eighteen or nineteen inches, like world-class bodybuilder sized. He noticed me noticing him and he smiled, lifting them up and flexing them to full power. I swooned and moaned and nearly came just watching the softball-sized muscle heads split. 

He pulled one close to his head and started licking, kissing, and sucking his thick muscles, making out with his arms like he’d made out with me. His dick was fucking throbbing hard with every suck and kiss. He was clearly into himself and his impressive size and power. Then he was kissing his biceps as he played with his nipples—another of my fetishes—with the fingers of his left hand while he slowly stroked every thick inch of his meat with his right hand.

I was seriously scared I was gonna cum just watching this display of masculine perfection before Santa ever got to play with my cock. 

Again, as if sensing my distress, he paused playing with his muscles and nipples and smiled down at me. “Don’t worry. You won’t cum until you’re ready. I make sure everyone has a good time when I’m around.”

“Your cock is amazing.”

“I know,” he said.

I stood up on wobbly legs, dazed and dizzy from the elves’ attention. “So, you go around the world delivering gifts and then you find some lucky fuck to fuck every Christmas?”

It was no illusion, the man was much bigger now than he had been. My face was now at crotch level, staring directly at that thick, throbbing meat. He pushed his thumb inside my mouth and opened my jaw before sliding the thick length of his monster inside me again. Then he folded those huge arms behind his head and spread his lats wide, face fucking me as he spoke. 

“It’s who I am. And what I am. The north pole guy who makes a yearly appearance and grants wishes.”

Wishes, I thought?

He smiled and rubbed my head. “Yes, wishes. I’m not exactly human, you know.” No, I agreed in my head, not exactly. “There are a few of us magic folk still around. Used to be a fuck-ton of us. The Greek gods, the Roman gods, witches, demons, et cetera, et cetera.” He closed his eyes and groaned with pleasure, shifting his hips as his cock thrust itself down my throat again and again, feeding me his supply of pre like a salty lube. 

He opened his eyes and continued explaining to me and fucking my throat. “Magic has a cost, and the cost is belief. I know it sounds weird to someone like you, who doesn’t believe in much of anything. But magic survives by belief. Luckily I’m still pretty popular, so that counts a lot. Not as much as truly believing. Awareness, popularity, even the naivety of…. Oh, fuck, do that again.” I had moved my grip around to his backside and dug my fingers into his muscular ass and rubbed his warm, wet hole. “Fuck, dude, you are amazing.”

This time I pulled his cock out of my mouth, but continued to stroke him expertly. “So you’re made of magic or you can do magic?” I licked the length of his massive veiny prick.

“Same fucking thing, isn’t it? Another thing about magic? There are rules. Because… sorry, can I keep fucking your mouth while I talk?” I opened my jaw and he pushed himself in. I think he had grown even thicker while I was stroking him! “Anyway, the rules. What magic is at its core is breaking reality. Making the impossible possible. Anything you might wish for, I can do.”

“Ammmnnnmm?”

“Yes, anything. Because magic.” He slowed his thrusts and pushed in to the root of his massive meat, stretching my jaws painfully and bringing tears to my eyes. “Ooooooh, fuuuuuuuck,” he groaned, and I could feel his dick gently pumping as he came, shoving a thick load of Santa cum into my guts.

Of course, it felt magical.

But I was disappointed because I didn’t get to watch Santa come. He just laughed gently and said, “Oh, don’t worry about Santa. I’m not finished with you, yet.”

He pulled himself out and his cock was at least as long as that thirteen-inch dick, and probably a couple of inches longer, and easily twice as thick. “Fucking hell,” I murmured looking at the slick, shiny monster.

“You can handle it,” he said, confidently.

“I know I can. I was just admiring the view.”

“I love it when you flirt,” he said. I looked up at him with one curious eyebrow cocked, and he winked, singing in his warm baritone, “I see you when you’re sleeping, I know when you’re…” he paused, casting his gaze to my throbbing cock jutting forward insistently, and finished. “Awake.” 

“You know everything?”

“Everything. Me being with you tonight isn’t an accident by any means. When you only have one night a year, you tend to make the most of it.” He started stroking again and I was full of a belly of Santa cream. “Any other questions or should I just bend over?”

“I… what?”

“Santa’s versatile.”

“Oh my god, you’re my dream come true!”

“Again, I’m made of magic and grant wishes,” he reminded me, counting them off on his thick, strong fingers. “How good would I be at my job if the only person I thought about in this situation was me?”

“I… was kinda hoping that you’d….”

“Oh,” he interrupted, “I’m gonna fuck you, dude. I’m gonna fuck you hard and deep and for a long, long, long fucking time. Unless you have something else planned?”

“I… do not.” I realized that there were now more elves in the space with us, now. Their faces looked exactly the same, as if they were all brothers or twins or whatever you call, like, twenty identical men of the same height and facial features. I licked my lips as my gaze passed from one to the next, admiring both their similarities and their differences. 

Santa was warmly laughing at my reply. Or maybe he was growling. “I knew we’d get along.” Then he slowly turned around. The view of Santa’s ass coming into focus is one I believe every filthy pervert with an eye for a great man’s butt should witness. The man… Santa has a huge ass. Enormous. Fucking… huge ass. And as I reached up to caress those thick muscular mounds, a tingle of excitement or something seemed to shoot up my arms and make my whole body heat up.

And I was only touching his ass.

He groaned again as I began to worship the most glorious butt I had ever seen, or even dreamed of. I mean, this man’s ass was… it was… like, I don’t care if you don’t consider yourself an ass man, Santa will convert you! “Fuck,” I whispered, nearly mesmerized by it.

He laughed in that way he has and shook his rump at me. “It feels even better from the inside.”

“Fuck,” I repeated, moving my fingertips between the round balls mounted on his backside and sliding them slowly downwards toward his hole. It grew increasingly warm as my touch approached it, and my heart sped up and my mouth went dry. It’s a bit hard to put into words what I was experiencing as I grew closer and closer to touching Santa’s asshole.

And, yes, I know how ludicrous that sounds but just stop laughing and pay attention: Like everything else about Santa, even his ass is magic.

He was bent slightly, pushing that huge, perfect ass towards me. “Do you like the view?”

“I love it,” I said, leaning in to kiss his fat glutes.

“I meant the Sex Den,” he corrected, waving his massive butt at me. “See anything you want to try out?”

I reluctantly stopped worshipping his butt with my lips and looked around the space. It could hardly be called a room, it was more like a warehouse or a gym. The entire space was open and warm, making me wonder if this was the North Pole or somewhere else entirely. Just how much of what I thought I knew about Santa and the elves and everything else was true? “So, no Mrs. Santa.”

He set his warm hand against my back, rubbing my skin warmly. “Nope. Santa’s as gay as they come. And Santa can come like no one else can come.”

“Magic,” I said, looking up at his incredibly handsome face. 

He winked at me and smiled. “Magic.”

“And all the elves are just here for you?”

He shrugged his muscular shoulder making his traps nearly touch his ears. “I like to fuck, and I like having options. But at least for this Christmas night, they’re here for you, too. See anything you like? Elf-wise?”

I saw a lot I liked. Just about every fetish one might account for was represented by one or more of the stupidly sexy elf men. Muscles, lips, pecs, ass, huge dicks, big dicks, small dicks, micro dicks, balls, nipples, long hair, short hair, no hair, smooth twink, muscle twink, gym stud, veiny, smooth, and on and on and on. “I… it’s like being a starving man at a free buffet. I don’t know where to start!”

“Don’t forget our specialty elves, for those with more… unusual tastes.” Santa pointed his heavily muscled arm and I followed his directions, taken aback by the insane variety of ‘specialty elves’ who had extra arms or legs, additional abs, highly developed muscles, muscle guts, extra fingers, extra heads, and on and on, including some very unusual physical properties I quite frankly could hardly believe that anyone would find erotic.

On the other hand, I’m sure my own tastes in the absurd physical proportions would make others question my sanity—but we can’t help what turns us on, can we?

“I think I prefer the more… vanilla offerings.”

“I understand, just wanted to let you know that you’re allowed to let your imagination run wild here. No judgments or negative opinions, you know. I’m just here to make your wishes come true. Whatever they may be!” He ho-ho-ho’d in a most erotic and suggestive fashion.

So for the next hours—or perhaps days or even weeks, it was hard to measure time in Santa’s magic den of iniquities—I fed every one of my sensual, erotic, sexual, and every other type of pleasurable desire. Nothing was off limits, and if this was some Christmas dream I started to wish it never ended.

But everything comes to an end eventually, and Christmas only lasts a day after all.

I was lying with my head resting on Santa’s enormous pecs, my dick still hard as a rock, my balls still producing enormous quantities of cum, and every inch of my body having been given every type of pleasure I could conceive of when muscle Santa, calmly and gently combing my hair with his large, powerful fingers, sighed and said, “I’m afraid our time together is at an end.”

I’m pretty sure every fucking elf in the place sighed sadly and they all came up to caress, kiss, suck, lick, fuck, and whatever else they wanted to do with and to me before this all ended. “Will… will I see you again?”

Santa smiled and nodded. “I’m almost certain of it. I’ve granted many, many… thousands of wishes over the years, but I must say your stamina, vigor, appetites, and imagination are somewhat special. I know I had a good time, and I hope I managed to satisfy some of your desires tonight.”

“Fuck yeah, you did,” I said, and reached my mouth towards his to get one last special kiss from Santa Claus.

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered hoarsely. 

And then I woke up.

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