Baby Boy's First Christmas

[hereforfiction]

It’s Christmas morning, I’m too excited and can’t sleep so I'm the first out of bed. I am super excited this year. Usually, I get shipped off to Mom’s place for the holidays. But this year I finally get to spend Christmas with the guys. It is the stipulation of their divorce. Mom got me until I turned 18 and that’s when I could decide where I want to spend the holidays.

I bury my nose in my Lucky Charms, searching for the various hidden marshmallow shapes on the box as I scoop spoonfuls of sugary goodness into my mouth.

We opened gifts last night. My Christmas fleece robe feels so comfortable, snuggling my body as I eat. Every now and then I glance out the panoramic windows lining the north side of the log cabin we’re vacationing in. Another snowstorm is moving in, adding even more snow to what already blanketed everything last night.

I look up and see Dad walk down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He walks over and starts up the coffee machine. It’s one of my favorite smells – the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the crisp, pungent aroma of the Christmas tree next to the fireplace.

I swirl my cereal, chasing bits of milk-drenched cereal with my spoon when Dad walks over. “Merry Christmas, Baby Boy,” he says as he tousles my hair.

“I’m not a baby anymore!” I pull my head away from Dad’s hand.

“Well, you sure couldn’t tell by the lack of hair on your chest,” Robbie ribs, reaching into my robe to rub the smooth skin of my chest before opening the top of his robe and puffing out his pelt of chest hair.

“You’ll always be my Baby Boy.” Before I can protest, Dad pulls my head back and gives me a kiss above both of my eyebrows then heads to the refrigerator to pull out the container of half and half. “I’m so glad to have you with us this year!”

“Me too, Dad.”

Coffee-to-cream-to-white-mocha-syrup perfected, Dad leans against the kitchen counter and grabs his phone to start the day’s Wordle.

I turn my head, drawn by the motion of Dad mindlessly scratching his crotch. Dad has a habit of letting his robe’s belt go loose, so I’m not unfamiliar with seeing the fur that covers him. However, this morning it went really slack, providing more than a peek. I could see Dad in all of his glory and I must say – it was mesmerizing. But what was gleaming amongst his fur?

Dad looks up from his phone, the side of his face raising in a smirk and a wink of the eye.

I dart my eyes back to my bowl and busy myself scooping up the last bits of cereal in my bowl. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a giant grin on Robbie’s face as I upend the sugary milk into my mouth.

Outside, the wind begins to pick up, howling. The blizzard conditions makes it nearly impossible to see the evergreens across the way. Dad walks over to the window and pauses to appreciate the beauty of such extreme weather conditions. He then turns his attention to the glowing embers in the fireplace. Some newspaper and a handful of kindling bring the fire back to life, flickering against the newly added logs with red and orange flames.

I hear clanging as Dad pulls out a long, black duffel bag and places it in front of the growing fire. From inside of the bag, he starts pulling out a series of silver-grey pipes; connecting pieces to erect a frame.

“Ho Ho Ho – Merry Christmas!!”

We all turn to the voice at the top of the stairs. It’s Santa! Well…Grandpa in his Father Christmas garb: burgundy, full-length overcoat trimmed in brown faux fur, black pants, olive green vest, and of course, his black pair of brightly polished harness boots.  

I’ve seen him work gigs over the holiday season. He is a sight to behold. Grandpa much prefers the folklore version of the holiday gift-giver over the commercial red and white Coca-Cola Santa. It’s fun watching grown-ups turn into giant kids at the authenticity of his look. I must admit, with that trimmed white beard, rounded belly, and jovial smile, he always captures my attention.

Dad greets him at the bottom of the stairs. Lifting a twig of mistletoe over his head, he cheers “Merry Christmas, Pops!” He lifts his hand under Father Christmas’ beard, cradling his chin to lean in and give him a deep, sultry kiss.

My head twitches and I blink hard. My eyes dart over at Robbie who has made his way over to Grandpa for his own passionate kiss.

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

“Merry Christmas, Baby Boy.” Grandpa leans over me, gloved fingertips flicking my nipples as he reaches inside my robe for a hug and kiss on the forehead.

My eyes close and I shudder. “Ummm…uhhh....Merry Christmas, Grandpa.” I feel my cheeks ignite as my face reddens. Yeah, sure…who hasn’t fantasized about sitting on Santa’s lap. But Grandpa?!?

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, rectangular box wrapped in metallic red paper with sparkling, silver glitter. “I have a very special gift for you this Christmas morning that will make your holidays merry and bright.”

“I know what you’re getting! I know what you’re getting!” Robbie gleefully rubs his hands together before helping Dad hang a sheet of thick leather from the corners of the poles.

Grandpa takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack near the door. When he turns in my direction, I notice that he isn't wearing his usual black, oversized shirt. White tufts of fur spill over the top of his vest and escape around the laces tying it together. I have always wanted to rub my face in that beard as white as the snow blustering against the windows. Again – Santa fantasy. *shrug* Even if my own grandpa.

“Come, sit on Santa’s lap.” I feel a bit silly, thinking I have outgrown such a silly tradition but I play along. It’s Christmas after all. Tis the season and all. It is only when the head of my dick pokes through my robe that I became aware of how aroused I am. I quickly cover myself hoping no one saw. Scanning their faces – they saw.

“Your dad tells me what an extra special little boy you’ve been this year, Billy Boy, and that you hit a milestone birthday last week.” Grandpa hands me the glittery package.

“He may now be 18, but he will always be my Baby Boy.” Dad tousles my hair again before I swat it away and turn my attention to the gift.

I open the small, white box to find an orange-capped syringe nestled in white tissue paper.

[deepthroat4dad]

Nice start

Edited September 17, 2023 by deepthroat4dad

[hereforfiction]

It’s just the start. More to follow. 

[Petereater]

FUCK!..💉

[Gor213]

Great start can’t wait to see where it goes 

[Fillitup57]

More please 

[Pnp-pig]

Please more!  Love slamming and family play

[themiraclebox]

i hope the grandpa and dad are both horse hung with a fat 9inch plus cock

They both take a Viagra before ripping that boy pussy open, let him feel what a real man’s cock feels like

 

 

[JeffSLmmPigDadd]

Tis the season, pigs 🐖 🐷 🎄 🎅 

[damsonffpig]

Fuck 😈 great start, now I want to read more 

[RawSubDad]

Spectacular last second twist(ed) introduction to Baby Boy’s first slam. 

[mjkuhl]

great start

[rublthlad]

Terrific start can’t wait for next part

[boy4you]

Do you know why Santa wearer Gloves? 

[tighthole64]

Santa about to cum up his chimney!