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BAD SANTA: For most people, Christmas is a time to relax, hang out with family and friends, eat, and just chill. Not me. For me, its’ crazy as fuck, busy as hell, and the most stressful time of the year, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. You see, Christmas time is when I use all my saved up vacation from work to volunteer for my favorite charity and deliver toys and gift bags to needy kids, families, hospital patients, and elderly people throughout the city.

 

Thanksgiving is really when it all starts now. Because of the big shopping days, me and the other volunteers start prepping in early October and by Thanksgiving weekend we have Santa’s Workshops set up in every major mall in the area. At the workshops, parents can have their kids sit on Santa’s lap and do the usual thing, but it’s also a chance for us to share with them the work our charity does, how they can donate gifts or cash for those not as fortunate. Those donations are what let us do the gift bags and in the end it all comes back to Santa and his workshop.

 

Well this year, Santa’s been an asshole. A couple assholes. Usually we don’t have a problem finding good Santas as a lot of folks appreciate the extra pay and cash for pretty easy work. But between some folks moving to a warmer climate, others being too old, and this year a couple Santas who decided being alchoholics would go unnoticed, it’s been hell. So here I am on a Saturday morning frantically interviewing potential Santas for that afternoon’s workshop at two of the malls. If I can’t find somebody, there are going to be a lot of disappointed people.

 

I had just spent the past two hours in a basement interviewing the worst set of Santa-wannabees I had ever seen. Fuck! Maybe – just maybe – there were two that could manage. I had to decide quickly as I would have to call them within a couple of hours to get them to their Workshops on time. I was just packing up my papers when the door opened and in walked a man who made my knees buckle. Tall, dark, about 220 pounds, and a smile that could have been on an angel.

 

He boldly walked over to me and shook my hand, “Hey, DeShawn. Is this where the Santa interviews are happening?” I could only stare. His eyes were a mocha brown with bright flecks of gold and when he shook my hand it felt like little electrical arcs danced up and down my arm making the hairs stand on end. “Oh..Umm..yeah… I’m sorry. You just missed it. The interviews are over.” The guy kicked at one of the folding chairs, “FUCK! Fucking Metro. Look man, sorry…sorry…it’s just you know? Metro? They always fucked up. The train got stuck at L’Enfant Plaza, I had to call my cuz to come pick me up. I really need this man…look to be totally real with you…I just got out recently… of the pen…and not for not super bad shit or whatever…just stupid shit…and…anyways…I…I just need a chance.”

 

Damn. It was the holidays and I did believe in giving folks a chance if I could. “OK,” I said, “But no promises. Here. Fill out this form. I have one opening downtown at City Center and the shifts are 3:00-9:00, Thursday through Sunday and there’s usually other shifts or events on the other days that can get picked up if you want.” DeShawn beamed, and clenched his fist in joy, “Fuck yeah! Thanks my man. Thanks. We doing this in here? Let me just go tell my cuz Andre. Can he sit in here? Chill out while we do whatever?” I nodded, DeShawn hustled outside and a minute later walked back in with another guy who clearly was family as they so closely resembled each other. Andre pushed one of the folding chairs a little to the side, pulled up his jeans then sat down, then reached inside his sweatshirt and pulled out what looked like a joint, put it to his lips, and lit it up.

 

I turned to DeShawn, “Hey, he can’t be smoking weed in here man.” Andre exhaled a thick cloud that smelled heavenly – and I thought hell, this must be what frankincense and myrrh smells like. DeShawn patted me on the shoulder, “No, no, no, he’s not. It’s a little K2, you know spice. It ain’t weed. It’s all good – yo Andre, spark me up.” Andre pulled another smoke out of his pocket, stuck it in his mouth beside the first one, hit it with the lighter, and held out his hand with the now lit spice roll for DeShawn. I watched as DeShawn inhaled deep, closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxed, a small grin spread across his face, he opened his eyes and weaved his head from side to side, “Fuck yeah. Much better. Want to hit it?”

 

Andre’s expression was blank as I glanced at him, then looked back at DeShawn and his offered smoke. “I’ve never done that before. I better not,” I said. DeShawn hit it again and I closed my eyes, enjoying the smell and the slight tingle I felt. He was looking at me when I opened my eyes, his dimples marking the smirk on his face as he held the smoke, then exhaled and said, “Come on. It’s good shit. It’s the fucking holidays man, here, just hold it firm between your lips, inhale deep and hold it. Just once to start, then we’ll see how you do.” I shrugged, took the smoke, and felt really self-conscious having him watch me. So, I closed my eyes, held it to my lips, the heat of the smoke just at the edges of my fingertips and I inhaled deep.

 

FUCKING WOW THAT SMOKE BURNED! But as I let it out, it was like all my fucking tension went POOF and then this nice, warm, even elation flowed over me. Fuck that was good. I wanted more! DeShawn laughed, “Ease up man. It’s your first time. Cuz and I, well we smoke all day so this ain’t nothing. Fuck. This just a taste of a taste for me. If I was really partying...well fuck now you don’t need to hear all that. I still got to interview right?”

 

Oh damn, the interview. Santa’s Workshop. “Yes, yes, yes,” I stammered far quicker than normal. “So tell me why you want to do this?” I did my best to pay attention as DeShawn answered that and several other questions as he completed the application form. Honestly, I didn’t hear squat. The smoke had created this itch, this want, this need in the pit of my stomach – the need to get fucked – and with two hot black men sitting within feet of me it was impossible to focus. I dutifully made some random notes on my clipboard then said, “Yeah – ah – well – I – how about you try on the Santa suit? We might not even have one that fits you.”

 

DeShawn was like a wide-eyed kid as he stepped towards the far wall and the rack of Santa suits. He kicked off his high-top, red sneakers, pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it on the floor, then slid his jeans and underwear right down and stepped out of them and kicked them to side and began flipping through the suits that were hanging up without a care in the world – stark fucking naked! DeShawn paused, pursed his lips a bit as he blew his smoke towards me then said, “Here, have another hit. Do it a couple times this time. I think you’ll be good.” My hand shook as I took the smoke and then glanced at Andre. He was leaning to the side with his left arm resting on his left thigh, his smoke held tight between the thumb and forefinger. When I looked at him his brows furrowed a bit, his eyes focused on me, his left upper lip raised slightly as if to say, “I see you – you fucking cock hound.”

 

I turned my back to Andre and looked at DeShawn who had pulled a suit off the rack. I openly stared at his taught body, his ripped abs, the V of muscle that formed and led the eye to his greatest gift of all – that BIG BLACK COCK – his BBC. Why is it BBC when everyone calls it a dick I wondered? Then I wondered why I thought that. Then I wondered who called it a dick first? Then I almost dropped the smoke as the heat got too close to my fingertips. DeShawn was laughing as he looked at me. He had on Santa’s coat and hat but was naked from the waist down. His dick was long, thick, with very little hair at it’s base and a ridge of foreskin cradling the head. God damn he was sort of hard! “What do you think?” DeShawn asked as he held the coat open and gave me a knowing smile. I was without words as he stepped up to me, took the smoke, hit it once, twice, a third time, then as he exhaled he walked over to Andre and dropped the remainder of it on the floor, which Andre stamped out with his boot. My mouth was dry, I couldn’t focus, well I could but all I could see was a BBC.

 

“Did you know Jesus was black?” DeShawn asked me. What the fuck? I looked at him, confused, and bewildered. He repeated his earlier question, “What do you think?” Did he just shift his hips to make his dick flop around? Is that precum drooling out his piss slit? “I…yeah…yeah you got the job. I just uh…need to call the other Santa and let him know where to go.” I half stumbled to other side of the room as DeShawn and Andre huddled up. Somehow I managed to call one of the other interviewees, told him where to go, and when I hung up and turned back around DeShawn was standing by Andre with another smoke in his hand held out towards me.

 

“Come on. Join us. I want to fucking celebrate. I got time right? Shift does not start for what…4 or 5 hours? We good then. So yo, anyone else coming through this joint? Like co-workers, other Santas or shit?” DeShawn asked. I shook my head no and watched as he sauntered over to the basement door, slid the lock in place, sauntered back, smiled, and said, “Now we can party. You driving? Have to work tomorrow too?” I patted the set of keys in my pocket and shook my head no. He just nodded back, held the smoke to his lips he had held out for me and relit it, then handed it to me and hit the one in his other hand. I joined Andre and DeShawn in sucking on that spice and fuck it felt good.

 

Andre was still sitting in his chair, all chill and relaxed. DeShawn was sort of bouncing off the walls and me, well I was in a bit of a daze just standing there. I realized DeShawn was talking to me and when I looked he was moving his hips back and forth, his long dick smacking first one thigh then the other. I licked my lips. “Yeah fucker you like that shit huh?” DeShawn asked. “You know I can’t focus on doing the job up right when I’m all backed up you hear me? What you think I should do about that?” I looked from DeShawn to Andre and back. No way was this happening. DeShawn stepped right up to me, his breath hot and fierce on my neck as he leaned forward a little and whispered, “SANTA’S GOT TO BUST HIS NUTT. CAN YOU HELP ME OUT? GO ON TOUCH IT. SEE WHAT SANTA HAS BROUGHT TO TOWN.”

 

DeShawn inhaled sharply as I reached out and slid my right hand up and down his hard dick. “That’s it little boy,” DeShawn whispered into my ear, “STROKE THAT MOTHA FUCKA, FEEL THAT DICK SLIME OUT, FUCK I GOT SOME EGGNOG FOR YOU. WHAT YOU SAY? YOU WANT MY EGGNOG? YOU WANT SANTA TO CLIMB DOWN YOUR CHIMNEY? FUCKING LITTLE ELF.” I could only moan as DeShawn now started to nibble on my neck then kiss it before sliding his tongue up and into my ear. I was moaning, my eyes closed, when Andre – who had not said a word the entire time – said, “Finish that blunt then suck my motha fucking dick.” I opened my eyes and saw Andre was standing up now, his fly was open and dick that was a twin of DeShawn’s was hanging free, just waiting for my mouth and to top it off he had found one of the red and green elf hats we use at the Workshop and had plopped it on his head slightly crooked.

 

I inhaled quick and sharp on the smoke I had, dropped it on the floor, put it out with my shoe and watched as DeShawn circled me like a lion on the savannah sizing up the morning’s prey. A BIG BLACK HAND REACHED OUT, DESHAWN GOT RIGHT IN MY FACE AND SAID, “BEND OVA AND SUCK HIS CANDY CANE. I KNOW YOU WANT TO. I KNOW YOU’RE A DICK SUCKA, SO OPEN THAT GOD-DAMN-WHITE-MOUTH AND MILK THAT SHIT.” The sudden, hard edge in his voice was a total turn on and I could only comply with his demands. I bent forward and like a calf to the teat started sucking on Andre’s monster, elf dick.

 

DeShawn knelt behind me and I started to knead my ass with his large hands. I moaned in pleasure, my mind flying, my body alight, my mouth so full. I then realized he was licking my ass, his tongue was pushing onto my hole and I moaned, wanted more, needing to feel it deeper. “WHO SAYS FRUIT CAKE AIN’T TASTY? RIGHT CUZ?” DESHAWN ASKED AND ANDRE LAUGHED IN REPLY. “YOU READY TO GET THAT STOCKING STUFFED? FEEL THAT CHRISTMAS YULE LOG RIDE ON UP IN YOU? FUCKING-A MY BALLS ARE READY TO BLOW THIS NUTT, THAT’S RIGHT, BEND THE FUCK OVA AND SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT SANTA TO FUCK THAT HOLE.”

 

No, no, no this was not right. I couldn’t. I had obligations. Duties. I had to focus. Oh hell – no matter what I tried my mind was gone, the spice was in charge – no, Santa was in charge and right that second he was pushing his dick into my ass. “Wait wait please,” I said suddenly feeling 100% sober, “You need to put a condom on. OK?” DeShawn slapped my ass hard, “Yeah OK,” he said as he turned me, I heard him sit down hard in one of the folding chairs, his hands gripped my waist hard and as he pulled me back towards him, Andre pushed forward, his dick aiming for my mouth.

 

The fuzzy white trim on the arm of the Santa suit tickled my sides as DeShawn wrapped his left arm around my stomach and pulled me backwards. He then jammed a finger into my spit slicked hole and immediately found my prostate, which sent quivers of joy through my body. “Yeah that fucking honey pot’s ripe, ease on down, there you go…trust…this will feel even better,” DeShawn said. My knees bent slightly and I could feel the bulbous head of his dick pushing against my ass. “Please…no…” I begged again, “The condom….” I could feel the deep rumble of laughter from his chest as DeShawn dismissed my please, “I got you. Hey cuz, let him hit your blunt right quick. OK now, toke on that shit hard and deep into your lungs like 3 or 4 times and each time hold it as long as you can.”

 

I took the smoke from Andre, hit it like DeShawn said, on the 4th time as soon as I sucked it in, Andre took the blunt back, smiled, and took his own hit. The hot rush was coming on like a semi on an ice-slicked road and there was no stopping it and he could tell. My body relaxed, I exhaled two lungs full of smoke and then RAM! I bent my head back, my throat strained to yell, no sound came out just a whimper as DeShawn had used my relaxed state to force his dick inside my ass.

 

DeShawn’s voice was distant through the pain and the spice high, “TAKE THAT FUCKING CANDY CANE. YOU BEEN A BAD BOY? I THINK YOU HAVE, TIME FOR SOME COAL UP THAT STOCKING. DAMN CUZ, JUST WAIT TILL YOU GET UP IN THIS ASS. SHIT’S TIGHT, BUT NOT FOR LONG – RIGHT?” My ass started to bounce up and down on his rough, black dick as DeShawn took me for a ride. When I opened my eyes Andre was standing right in front of me jacking his steel, hard dick and I knew right then he was going to fuck me too. As if on queue, DeShawn stood up with me still impaled on raw dick, reached out and slapped Andre’s outstretched hand, and tagged out. DeShawn yelled, roughly yanked his dick out of my ass, stepped to the side and Andre grabbed me, dug his hands into my hips, turned me to face the chair, bent me forward and slammed his dry dick in. I cried out, they both laughed, Andre pulled back and slammed me again, this time going to the hilt as my ass opened up and let him in.

 

Two big hands were now holding the back of the chair steady and DeShawn bent forward and smiled at my wild eyed, ragged breath self, “TELL SANTA WHAT YOU WANT.” I gasped, shook my head, “FUCK ME, OH PLEASE GOD DAMN FUCK ME.” DeShawn stood up, laughed, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” HE SAID. “SANTA THINKS YOU SAID YOU WANTED SOME RAW DICK. IS THAT RIGHT? SANTA THINKS YOU WERE BEGGING FOR THAT SPICED UP EGGNOG DEEP IN THAT HOLE. IS THAT RIGHT? I SAID IS THAT RIGHT, CAUSE IF NOT, WELL….” and with that final word Andre pulled his dick out leaving my ass twitching and in dire need. “THAT’S RIGHT, THAT’S RIGHT, PLEASE STICK IT BACK IN. DON’T…DON’T…”I begged. DeShawn bent forward, “Don’t what?” My eyes focused, I pushed my ass back, “DON’T STOP FUCKING ME UNTIL YOU CUM. I WANT IT ALL. I WANT ALL YOUR CUM, PLEASE, PLEASE CUM IN ME.”

 

DeShawn laughed, patted my head, and I looked back at him and said, “YOUR’E A FUCKING BAD, BAD, SANTA.” The cousins busted out at that and as Andre slammed his dick back into my bruised hole, DeShawn started stroking his drooling meat at eye level and said, “You got not fucking idea.”

 

A couple hours later we laid entangled in a pile of Santa suits, elf costumes, backdrops, and anything else that had been in fuck-stumbling distance that was soft. Holy hell it was going to cost me a fortune to get all that shit dry-cleaned. Andre had me on my side, my left leg raised, as he frothed up the last load he had deposited into my now gaping ass. DeShawn was lying on his back, his dick spent, his balls drained, and Santa was a happy man. I figured he was checking his messages as he was swiping back and forth on his cell phone, chuckling now and then. He then held it out for me to see and there was a picture – nice close up shot – of me with a dick in my mouth. Fuck! DeShawn started swiping again and said, “Happy Holidays. Aiight, time to get it on. Cuz, I’m going to snag your ride, head home quick and shower up for my job.” DeShawn stood up, stretched, and walked over to what appeared to be the only untainted Santa suit. He nodded, “No worries. I got this. Cuz’ll keep you busy I think.”

 

Andre slid out of my ass and I gently reached out and felt my nutt-filled hole. The constant pounding I had taken from both men had all been raw and they had bred me repeatedly, while keeping me spiced up. The cousins were huddled up now, Andre said something that made DeShawn loudly go, “OOOO,” then put his clenched fist in front of his mouth, double over in laughter and joy, and nod his head vigorously in agreement. I stood up, found my clothes on the edge of the pile and started to put them one when DeShawn hollered, “YO GET THAT SLUT ASS OVER HERE.”

 

I walked over and stood by the cousins. Andre had pulled a cigarette out of a pack of Newport 100s and was smoking away and DeShawn looked all set to go and assured me he was good, then said, “YOU EVER SMOKED A DIPPER BEFORE? NO? YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS? NO? WELL LET’S JUST CALL IT A CIGARETTE WITH SOME SPECIAL SPICE ON IT. THAT’S ALL. GIVE ANDRE YOUR KEYS. HE’S GOING TO TAKE YOU ON A SHORT RIDE TO OUR TRAP HOUSE AND GET YOU WETTED OUT. NO WORRIES, HE’LL WATCH OUT FOR YOU AND WHEN I GET OFF MY SHIFT I’LL SWING THROUGH AND SHOW YOU HOW FUCKING BAD SANTA CAN REALLY BE.”

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Posted

GREAT holiday story!  It really gets me into a festive, celebratory mood!  Love the term "spiced up eggnog."  Definitely looking forward to the next chapter.  Thank you!

Posted

BAD SANTA: For most people, Christmas is a time to relax, hang out with family and friends, eat, and just chill. Not me. For me, its’ crazy as fuck, busy as hell, and the most stressful time of the year, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. You see, Christmas time is when I use all my saved up vacation from work to volunteer for my favorite charity and deliver toys and gift bags to needy kids, families, hospital patients, and elderly people throughout the city.

 

Thanksgiving is really when it all starts now. Because of the big shopping days, me and the other volunteers start prepping in early October and by Thanksgiving weekend we have Santa’s Workshops set up in every major mall in the area. At the workshops, parents can have their kids sit on Santa’s lap and do the usual thing, but it’s also a chance for us to share with them the work our charity does, how they can donate gifts or cash for those not as fortunate. Those donations are what let us do the gift bags and in the end it all comes back to Santa and his workshop.

 

Well this year, Santa’s been an asshole. A couple assholes. Usually we don’t have a problem finding good Santas as a lot of folks appreciate the extra pay and cash for pretty easy work. But between some folks moving to a warmer climate, others being too old, and this year a couple Santas who decided being alchoholics would go unnoticed, it’s been hell. So here I am on a Saturday morning frantically interviewing potential Santas for that afternoon’s workshop at two of the malls. If I can’t find somebody, there are going to be a lot of disappointed people.

 

I had just spent the past two hours in a basement interviewing the worst set of Santa-wannabees I had ever seen. Fuck! Maybe – just maybe – there were two that could manage. I had to decide quickly as I would have to call them within a couple of hours to get them to their Workshops on time. I was just packing up my papers when the door opened and in walked a man who made my knees buckle. Tall, dark, about 220 pounds, and a smile that could have been on an angel.

 

He boldly walked over to me and shook my hand, “Hey, DeShawn. Is this where the Santa interviews are happening?” I could only stare. His eyes were a mocha brown with bright flecks of gold and when he shook my hand it felt like little electrical arcs danced up and down my arm making the hairs stand on end. “Oh..Umm..yeah… I’m sorry. You just missed it. The interviews are over.” The guy kicked at one of the folding chairs, “FUCK! Fucking Metro. Look man, sorry…sorry…it’s just you know? Metro? They always fucked up. The train got stuck at L’Enfant Plaza, I had to call my cuz to come pick me up. I really need this man…look to be totally real with you…I just got out recently… of the pen…and not for not super bad shit or whatever…just stupid shit…and…anyways…I…I just need a chance.”

 

Damn. It was the holidays and I did believe in giving folks a chance if I could. “OK,” I said, “But no promises. Here. Fill out this form. I have one opening downtown at City Center and the shifts are 3:00-9:00, Thursday through Sunday and there’s usually other shifts or events on the other days that can get picked up if you want.” DeShawn beamed, and clenched his fist in joy, “Fuck yeah! Thanks my man. Thanks. We doing this in here? Let me just go tell my cuz Andre. Can he sit in here? Chill out while we do whatever?” I nodded, DeShawn hustled outside and a minute later walked back in with another guy who clearly was family as they so closely resembled each other. Andre pushed one of the folding chairs a little to the side, pulled up his jeans then sat down, then reached inside his sweatshirt and pulled out what looked like a joint, put it to his lips, and lit it up.

 

I turned to DeShawn, “Hey, he can’t be smoking weed in here man.” Andre exhaled a thick cloud that smelled heavenly – and I thought hell, this must be what frankincense and myrrh smells like. DeShawn patted me on the shoulder, “No, no, no, he’s not. It’s a little K2, you know spice. It ain’t weed. It’s all good – yo Andre, spark me up.” Andre pulled another smoke out of his pocket, stuck it in his mouth beside the first one, hit it with the lighter, and held out his hand with the now lit spice roll for DeShawn. I watched as DeShawn inhaled deep, closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxed, a small grin spread across his face, he opened his eyes and weaved his head from side to side, “Fuck yeah. Much better. Want to hit it?”

 

Andre’s expression was blank as I glanced at him, then looked back at DeShawn and his offered smoke. “I’ve never done that before. I better not,” I said. DeShawn hit it again and I closed my eyes, enjoying the smell and the slight tingle I felt. He was looking at me when I opened my eyes, his dimples marking the smirk on his face as he held the smoke, then exhaled and said, “Come on. It’s good shit. It’s the fucking holidays man, here, just hold it firm between your lips, inhale deep and hold it. Just once to start, then we’ll see how you do.” I shrugged, took the smoke, and felt really self-conscious having him watch me. So, I closed my eyes, held it to my lips, the heat of the smoke just at the edges of my fingertips and I inhaled deep.

 

FUCKING WOW THAT SMOKE BURNED! But as I let it out, it was like all my fucking tension went POOF and then this nice, warm, even elation flowed over me. Fuck that was good. I wanted more! DeShawn laughed, “Ease up man. It’s your first time. Cuz and I, well we smoke all day so this ain’t nothing. Fuck. This just a taste of a taste for me. If I was really partying...well fuck now you don’t need to hear all that. I still got to interview right?”

 

Oh damn, the interview. Santa’s Workshop. “Yes, yes, yes,” I stammered far quicker than normal. “So tell me why you want to do this?” I did my best to pay attention as DeShawn answered that and several other questions as he completed the application form. Honestly, I didn’t hear squat. The smoke had created this itch, this want, this need in the pit of my stomach – the need to get fucked – and with two hot black men sitting within feet of me it was impossible to focus. I dutifully made some random notes on my clipboard then said, “Yeah – ah – well – I – how about you try on the Santa suit? We might not even have one that fits you.”

 

DeShawn was like a wide-eyed kid as he stepped towards the far wall and the rack of Santa suits. He kicked off his high-top, red sneakers, pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it on the floor, then slid his jeans and underwear right down and stepped out of them and kicked them to side and began flipping through the suits that were hanging up without a care in the world – stark fucking naked! DeShawn paused, pursed his lips a bit as he blew his smoke towards me then said, “Here, have another hit. Do it a couple times this time. I think you’ll be good.” My hand shook as I took the smoke and then glanced at Andre. He was leaning to the side with his left arm resting on his left thigh, his smoke held tight between the thumb and forefinger. When I looked at him his brows furrowed a bit, his eyes focused on me, his left upper lip raised slightly as if to say, “I see you – you fucking cock hound.”

 

I turned my back to Andre and looked at DeShawn who had pulled a suit off the rack. I openly stared at his taught body, his ripped abs, the V of muscle that formed and led the eye to his greatest gift of all – that BIG BLACK COCK – his BBC. Why is it BBC when everyone calls it a dick I wondered? Then I wondered why I thought that. Then I wondered who called it a dick first? Then I almost dropped the smoke as the heat got too close to my fingertips. DeShawn was laughing as he looked at me. He had on Santa’s coat and hat but was naked from the waist down. His dick was long, thick, with very little hair at it’s base and a ridge of foreskin cradling the head. God damn he was sort of hard! “What do you think?” DeShawn asked as he held the coat open and gave me a knowing smile. I was without words as he stepped up to me, took the smoke, hit it once, twice, a third time, then as he exhaled he walked over to Andre and dropped the remainder of it on the floor, which Andre stamped out with his boot. My mouth was dry, I couldn’t focus, well I could but all I could see was a BBC.

 

“Did you know Jesus was black?” DeShawn asked me. What the fuck? I looked at him, confused, and bewildered. He repeated his earlier question, “What do you think?” Did he just shift his hips to make his dick flop around? Is that precum drooling out his piss slit? “I…yeah…yeah you got the job. I just uh…need to call the other Santa and let him know where to go.” I half stumbled to other side of the room as DeShawn and Andre huddled up. Somehow I managed to call one of the other interviewees, told him where to go, and when I hung up and turned back around DeShawn was standing by Andre with another smoke in his hand held out towards me.

 

“Come on. Join us. I want to fucking celebrate. I got time right? Shift does not start for what…4 or 5 hours? We good then. So yo, anyone else coming through this joint? Like co-workers, other Santas or shit?” DeShawn asked. I shook my head no and watched as he sauntered over to the basement door, slid the lock in place, sauntered back, smiled, and said, “Now we can party. You driving? Have to work tomorrow too?” I patted the set of keys in my pocket and shook my head no. He just nodded back, held the smoke to his lips he had held out for me and relit it, then handed it to me and hit the one in his other hand. I joined Andre and DeShawn in sucking on that spice and fuck it felt good.

 

Andre was still sitting in his chair, all chill and relaxed. DeShawn was sort of bouncing off the walls and me, well I was in a bit of a daze just standing there. I realized DeShawn was talking to me and when I looked he was moving his hips back and forth, his long dick smacking first one thigh then the other. I licked my lips. “Yeah fucker you like that shit huh?” DeShawn asked. “You know I can’t focus on doing the job up right when I’m all backed up you hear me? What you think I should do about that?” I looked from DeShawn to Andre and back. No way was this happening. DeShawn stepped right up to me, his breath hot and fierce on my neck as he leaned forward a little and whispered, “SANTA’S GOT TO BUST HIS NUTT. CAN YOU HELP ME OUT? GO ON TOUCH IT. SEE WHAT SANTA HAS BROUGHT TO TOWN.”

 

DeShawn inhaled sharply as I reached out and slid my right hand up and down his hard dick. “That’s it little boy,” DeShawn whispered into my ear, “STROKE THAT MOTHA FUCKA, FEEL THAT DICK SLIME OUT, FUCK I GOT SOME EGGNOG FOR YOU. WHAT YOU SAY? YOU WANT MY EGGNOG? YOU WANT SANTA TO CLIMB DOWN YOUR CHIMNEY? FUCKING LITTLE ELF.” I could only moan as DeShawn now started to nibble on my neck then kiss it before sliding his tongue up and into my ear. I was moaning, my eyes closed, when Andre – who had not said a word the entire time – said, “Finish that blunt then suck my motha fucking dick.” I opened my eyes and saw Andre was standing up now, his fly was open and dick that was a twin of DeShawn’s was hanging free, just waiting for my mouth and to top it off he had found one of the red and green elf hats we use at the Workshop and had plopped it on his head slightly crooked.

 

I inhaled quick and sharp on the smoke I had, dropped it on the floor, put it out with my shoe and watched as DeShawn circled me like a lion on the savannah sizing up the morning’s prey. A BIG BLACK HAND REACHED OUT, DESHAWN GOT RIGHT IN MY FACE AND SAID, “BEND OVA AND SUCK HIS CANDY CANE. I KNOW YOU WANT TO. I KNOW YOU’RE A DICK SUCKA, SO OPEN THAT GOD-DAMN-WHITE-MOUTH AND MILK THAT SHIT.” The sudden, hard edge in his voice was a total turn on and I could only comply with his demands. I bent forward and like a calf to the teat started sucking on Andre’s monster, elf dick.

 

DeShawn knelt behind me and I started to knead my ass with his large hands. I moaned in pleasure, my mind flying, my body alight, my mouth so full. I then realized he was licking my ass, his tongue was pushing onto my hole and I moaned, wanted more, needing to feel it deeper. “WHO SAYS FRUIT CAKE AIN’T TASTY? RIGHT CUZ?” DESHAWN ASKED AND ANDRE LAUGHED IN REPLY. “YOU READY TO GET THAT STOCKING STUFFED? FEEL THAT CHRISTMAS YULE LOG RIDE ON UP IN YOU? FUCKING-A MY BALLS ARE READY TO BLOW THIS NUTT, THAT’S RIGHT, BEND THE FUCK OVA AND SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT SANTA TO FUCK THAT HOLE.”

 

No, no, no this was not right. I couldn’t. I had obligations. Duties. I had to focus. Oh hell – no matter what I tried my mind was gone, the spice was in charge – no, Santa was in charge and right that second he was pushing his dick into my ass. “Wait wait please,” I said suddenly feeling 100% sober, “You need to put a condom on. OK?” DeShawn slapped my ass hard, “Yeah OK,” he said as he turned me, I heard him sit down hard in one of the folding chairs, his hands gripped my waist hard and as he pulled me back towards him, Andre pushed forward, his dick aiming for my mouth.

 

The fuzzy white trim on the arm of the Santa suit tickled my sides as DeShawn wrapped his left arm around my stomach and pulled me backwards. He then jammed a finger into my spit slicked hole and immediately found my prostate, which sent quivers of joy through my body. “Yeah that fucking honey pot’s ripe, ease on down, there you go…trust…this will feel even better,” DeShawn said. My knees bent slightly and I could feel the bulbous head of his dick pushing against my ass. “Please…no…” I begged again, “The condom….” I could feel the deep rumble of laughter from his chest as DeShawn dismissed my please, “I got you. Hey cuz, let him hit your blunt right quick. OK now, toke on that shit hard and deep into your lungs like 3 or 4 times and each time hold it as long as you can.”

 

I took the smoke from Andre, hit it like DeShawn said, on the 4th time as soon as I sucked it in, Andre took the blunt back, smiled, and took his own hit. The hot rush was coming on like a semi on an ice-slicked road and there was no stopping it and he could tell. My body relaxed, I exhaled two lungs full of smoke and then RAM! I bent my head back, my throat strained to yell, no sound came out just a whimper as DeShawn had used my relaxed state to force his dick inside my ass.

 

DeShawn’s voice was distant through the pain and the spice high, “TAKE THAT FUCKING CANDY CANE. YOU BEEN A BAD BOY? I THINK YOU HAVE, TIME FOR SOME COAL UP THAT STOCKING. DAMN CUZ, JUST WAIT TILL YOU GET UP IN THIS ASS. SHIT’S TIGHT, BUT NOT FOR LONG – RIGHT?” My ass started to bounce up and down on his rough, black dick as DeShawn took me for a ride. When I opened my eyes Andre was standing right in front of me jacking his steel, hard dick and I knew right then he was going to fuck me too. As if on queue, DeShawn stood up with me still impaled on raw dick, reached out and slapped Andre’s outstretched hand, and tagged out. DeShawn yelled, roughly yanked his dick out of my ass, stepped to the side and Andre grabbed me, dug his hands into my hips, turned me to face the chair, bent me forward and slammed his dry dick in. I cried out, they both laughed, Andre pulled back and slammed me again, this time going to the hilt as my ass opened up and let him in.

 

Two big hands were now holding the back of the chair steady and DeShawn bent forward and smiled at my wild eyed, ragged breath self, “TELL SANTA WHAT YOU WANT.” I gasped, shook my head, “FUCK ME, OH PLEASE GOD DAMN FUCK ME.” DeShawn stood up, laughed, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” HE SAID. “SANTA THINKS YOU SAID YOU WANTED SOME RAW DICK. IS THAT RIGHT? SANTA THINKS YOU WERE BEGGING FOR THAT SPICED UP EGGNOG DEEP IN THAT HOLE. IS THAT RIGHT? I SAID IS THAT RIGHT, CAUSE IF NOT, WELL….” and with that final word Andre pulled his dick out leaving my ass twitching and in dire need. “THAT’S RIGHT, THAT’S RIGHT, PLEASE STICK IT BACK IN. DON’T…DON’T…”I begged. DeShawn bent forward, “Don’t what?” My eyes focused, I pushed my ass back, “DON’T STOP FUCKING ME UNTIL YOU CUM. I WANT IT ALL. I WANT ALL YOUR CUM, PLEASE, PLEASE CUM IN ME.”

 

DeShawn laughed, patted my head, and I looked back at him and said, “YOUR’E A FUCKING BAD, BAD, SANTA.” The cousins busted out at that and as Andre slammed his dick back into my bruised hole, DeShawn started stroking his drooling meat at eye level and said, “You got not fucking idea.”

 

A couple hours later we laid entangled in a pile of Santa suits, elf costumes, backdrops, and anything else that had been in fuck-stumbling distance that was soft. Holy hell it was going to cost me a fortune to get all that shit dry-cleaned. Andre had me on my side, my left leg raised, as he frothed up the last load he had deposited into my now gaping ass. DeShawn was lying on his back, his dick spent, his balls drained, and Santa was a happy man. I figured he was checking his messages as he was swiping back and forth on his cell phone, chuckling now and then. He then held it out for me to see and there was a picture – nice close up shot – of me with a dick in my mouth. Fuck! DeShawn started swiping again and said, “Happy Holidays. Aiight, time to get it on. Cuz, I’m going to snag your ride, head home quick and shower up for my job.” DeShawn stood up, stretched, and walked over to what appeared to be the only untainted Santa suit. He nodded, “No worries. I got this. Cuz’ll keep you busy I think.”

 

Andre slid out of my ass and I gently reached out and felt my nutt-filled hole. The constant pounding I had taken from both men had all been raw and they had bred me repeatedly, while keeping me spiced up. The cousins were huddled up now, Andre said something that made DeShawn loudly go, “OOOO,” then put his clenched fist in front of his mouth, double over in laughter and joy, and nod his head vigorously in agreement. I stood up, found my clothes on the edge of the pile and started to put them one when DeShawn hollered, “YO GET THAT SLUT ASS OVER HERE.”

 

I walked over and stood by the cousins. Andre had pulled a cigarette out of a pack of Newport 100s and was smoking away and DeShawn looked all set to go and assured me he was good, then said, “YOU EVER SMOKED A DIPPER BEFORE? NO? YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS? NO? WELL LET’S JUST CALL IT A CIGARETTE WITH SOME SPECIAL SPICE ON IT. THAT’S ALL. GIVE ANDRE YOUR KEYS. HE’S GOING TO TAKE YOU ON A SHORT RIDE TO OUR TRAP HOUSE AND GET YOU WETTED OUT. NO WORRIES, HE’LL WATCH OUT FOR YOU AND WHEN I GET OFF MY SHIFT I’LL SWING THROUGH AND SHOW YOU HOW FUCKING BAD SANTA CAN REALLY BE.”

I didn't read the whole story but you helping & thinking of others had me thinking ur a great someone. Who knows, you might also be the lovely pervy kind I like. Not necessarily for my cock but to have fun with or a person to  give some hot fun things to. Be welcum to message me, I'd love to make sure ur fantasies are fulffiled and cock happy ;) 

  • Upvote 1
  • Piggy 1
  • 7 years later...
  • 1 year later...
Posted
On 12/19/2015 at 4:26 PM, whthole4u said:

....and said, “YOUR’E A FUCKING BAD, BAD, SANTA.”

@whthole4u - it is the right time of the year to bring back your amazing story into circulation - 

I hope all agree with me on this - and that we all hope, that you @whthole4u will continue this story ... 

as it is HOT !!!!!

  • Like 2
Posted (edited)

I was hoping we’d get a Christmas gift and find out what happened at the Trap House finally. This is probably true for those of us nerds who’d like to be spiced out and used by Andre and DeShawn and their friends there…hoe, hoe, hoe, merry Christmas we’d be.

Edited by foryouruse
Posted

I know the writer left and stopped writing here 7 years ago. Does anyone know if he has a blog or writes somewhere else? When it comes to great porn, I guess I haven’t forgotten how to read.

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