I know it's probably terrible of me, but I've always had kind of a thing for Santa Claus. His long white beard and the way he laughs always sends waves of excitement directly to my dick. I know he's married to Mrs. Claus. But in my fantasies, he'll let anyone go down on his chimney. After all, Santa is known for being a very giving soul.
It was about 4:00 a.m. Christmas morning. I woke up having to pee so bad I thought I was going to explode. I knew finishing off that six pack right before going to bed was going to come back to haunt me. As I headed down the hall toward the bathroom, I glanced over and saw someone standing in my living room. He had his back to me, but I could still see that the guy was in a Santa costume.
"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?" I said, taking a few cautious steps into the room. I know I should have been scared - the guy might have a gun. But I was hoping even if he was here to rob the place, he'd at least let me pee first.
"Go ahead and tend your bladder. I'll wait," the man said as he turned around. Yep. It was Santa alright. He was smiling and holding a slice of steaming pizza in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.
I sort of scratched my head for a minute, then decided to hit the toilet. When you gotta go... Besides, now I was starting to feel like this was a set-up for a practical joke one of my sick friends would play on me. I figured at some point, Santa would turn on some music and do a strip tease or something. But how did he know I had to pee and where did he get hot pizza at this hour on Christmas morning?
When I got back, Santa was just popping open a bottle of beer and setting it down on the coffee table next to a slice of pizza. "I was hoping you were going to join me," he said gesturing to the table. "I'm afraid I'm several beers and a couple of slices ahead of you."
"Do I know you?" I asked as I took a big bite of the best pizza I ever tasted and washed it down with the best ale I ever drank.
"I thought you did," he replied, tugging on his beard to show that it was real. "I am Santa Claus. It has been a very rough night and I didn't think you'd mind if I took a break here for a while before going home. I just had to have something other than cookies and milk.
"Why do people assume that I would want cookies and milk? Give me pizza and beer any day." And with that, he threw off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then he unbuttoned his jacket, showing me a glimpse of a big barrel chest and surprisingly muscular stomach all covered by curly white fur. "Damn, this outfit gets hot," he said winking at me.
Was this rented Santa making a pass at me, or was I just horny? Who cared. What kind of a nut would turn down the chance to do Santa? I let my eyes drop to his crotch area. There was a huge amount of tenting action going on in the front of his trousers. Suddenly, it was like I was hypnotized. I watched as my hands reached out and undid the button on his pants, grabbed each side of the waist, and yanked them down around his ankles. The next thing I knew, I had his giant candy cane down my throat and my nose buried in the softest mound of pubic hair you can imagine.
Santa really had a gorgeous piece of uncut meat. I'd guess it was about 10" long and covered with big popping veins. Just sucking on it almost made me blow a load. It was the kind of **** you just never want to stop working over. And his big, hairy, low-hanging balls weren't bad either.
I was totally lost in my **** worship when Santa pulled out of my mouth and stood me up. Then he unrolled a brightly colored Christmas condom onto his dick, turned me around, and bent me over the back of the couch.
"Let me show you what the North Pole is really all about," he leered as the head of his staff probed my asshole. "I had a feeling this would be a hospitable place to stop." And he thrust himself into me all the way to the hilt.
As he slowly began to fuck me, there was an almost electric tingle coursing through my body. The harder he fucked, the more that tingle moved to my crotch. And the sound of his balls slapping the back of my thighs had me so turned on I wanted to scream. "You're a lot sturdier than those elves," he growled in my ear as his thrusting reached a fevered pitch. "You deserve a present for this."
Without warning, my body began to convulse with the world's biggest no-hands orgasm. I was trembling all over as stream after stream of cum shot from my dick. My own screaming was so loud that I didn't even hear Santa when he began to moan and wail. But I felt it when he took one mighty inward thrust, grabbed my hips for support, and began shaking like a wild man.
Eventually, we both slumped down to the floor to catch our breaths and let our knees stop shaking.
"Did you like your present?" Santa asked, out of breath and covered with sweat. "I'm afraid that might have been more of a gift for me," he smiled, pulling off the condom and releasing an impossible amount of cum all over the place.
"It was the perfect gift, Santa," I replied, a stupid grin already beginning to plaster itself across my face. "You can show me the North Pole anytime."
Santa smiled, winked, and produced a single sleigh bell on a leather strap. "Any time you want to see the Pole, just ring this bell. I'll hear you." And in a flurry of snowflakes and "Ho, ho, hos," he vanished into thin air. When the snow settled, all that was left was his hat, the bell, and a case of Christmas condoms.
I think I'm going to be ringing that bell quite a bit...
