What Did Santa Give the Naughty Boy For Christmas?

[Spermpig]

AIDS.

Sick joke, right?  Kind of along the lines of the classic “What did the boy with no arms or legs get for Christmas?  Cancer.”  Only I’m not joking (although I wish I was).  And yeah, I’m the “naughty boy” in this cautionary tale.

It all started off innocently enough.  Me and my friends were hanging at the mall after school- we used to do that a lot.  Not much else to do in our town when you’re seniors in high school, just waiting to escape into the “real world”.  And it was less than a month til Christmas.

All the extracurricular shit was winding down for the holidays, so we had extra free time in the evenings.  No play rehearsals.  No band practice.  So yeah, we cruised the mall.

On this particular Wednesday, I was hanging with Matty, MJ (short for Margaret Jean), and Brittany (aka Brit-Brit).  We were doing our normal shit- trying on crap clothes and modeling for each other.  Drooling over Apple store products.  Having DQ.  And people watching.

I don’t remember who had the idea (not me) but someone said “Hey, let’s go visit Santa!”  I thought we were a bit old for this crap, but everyone thought it would be funny.  Revert to being kids again and tell him what we wanted for Christmas.  Shit like that.  I wasn’t really game, but I went along with them because hey.  They’re my best friends after all.

Anyway, it’s midweek and before 5 pm, so the Mall is fairly dead and there’s almost no line for Santa.  Great, I think.  We’re really doing this.  I hang back and let them all go first.  I figure I might be able to bow out once they all have a turn.

Before I go any further, I feel like I should kinda set the stage a bit more.  So the town we live in isn’t big.  It’s big enough for a mall, a factory, a prison, two grocery stores, a Walmart and one high school, but that’s about it.  Our town is, how should I put this… a shithole.  It’s pretty run down and tragic.  Not like Stonebrook, where all the fancy folk live.  No, we’re definitely the “other” kind of town.  The kind of town people don’t visit unless you have to.  Like where the whole place is on the wrong side of the tracks.

Anyway, as you can probably imagine, the mall is also pretty run down.  It’s dying a slow, horrible death- kinda like most malls these days.  Lots of vacant stores.  Macy’s is the biggest thing we got.  And Kohls.  But that’s about it.  I’m pretty sure you can picture what it’s like.

Tis the season, so the place is decorated for Christmas (albeit poorly), and in the center atrium is where the big, phony tree is located.  Along with the phony Santa, and the phony elves (actually elf, singular), and phony Gingerbread house and reindeer.  The tree, the house, and the decorations have definitely seen better days, and there are burnt out lights on the tree and crap.  It’s a real fucking Christmas wonderland, I tell ya.

We get there and there’s no line to speak of.  There’s one kid with his mom and they are finishing up, and that’s it.  And I can pretty much see why.  Now that we’re closer, the whole “Santa Village” looks more like “Santa’s Trailer Park”.  It’s pretty sad, and more than a bit sketch.  And the Santa?  Definitely as sketch as they come.  Kind of a greyish beard, and it looks like his suit hasn’t been cleaned since the chimneys from last year.  We’re talking serious homeless vibes.  Total cringe.

Undeterred and buoyed by her goofy, giggly spirit,  Brit-Brit goes first as we all hang back.  Matty and MJ are laughing and waving and enjoying it all.  Taking snaps with their phone cameras.  And I’m just watching dirty Santa probably getting his holly jollies from having a cute teen girl wiggle on his lap.  I mean, let’s be honest.  If you’re an old dude working as a Santa midweek at a rundown mall- you’ve got to be some kind of [banned word]… amiright?

Anyway, after whispering what she wants to Santa and having a grand ol time, Brit-Brit hops off his lap and comes back to our pack.  Full of good cheer, Brit and MJ push Matty up there next.  He trots up plops down on Santa’s lap- hamming it up for us.  Because it’s Matt, our leading man.  He’s 6 feet of big grins and affable charm.  Naturally he goes for the “aw shucks” schtick, miming asking for a football for Christmas.  What a goofball- which is why I’m secretly in love with him.

I’m still hanging back and MJ goes next.  She’s all business as she marches up and takes her turn.  It looks like she’s really getting serious, pleading her case with Santa and trying to wheedle her way onto the nice list (cuz we all know she’s permanently on the naughty list).  Just ask her parents.

Soon MJ is done and back and they all turn to me, expectantly.

“Naw guys, I don’t think I’m down.  Not really my speed,” I say with a shrug.

This was met with a cacophony from the others.  They would have NONE of this.  I  had to do it.  It was fun!  They wanted pictures.  And above all they wanted to see me, the shy one, on Santa’s lap.  I was told it was a moral imperative and that I was NOT getting out of doing it, even if they had to drag me up there.

At this point, I knew it was better to just get it over with than fight it.  I probably could have just walked away toward the food court, but I knew they’d be disappointed.  I was already the “fourth one” in the group, and I wanted them to keep inviting me along places… if for no other reason than to be close to Matty.  So I relented- but not without making a big show of giving in.  Sighing.  Eye rolls.  The works.

So I started my slow, reluctant walk up to Santa.  The closer I got, the more oddly nervous I became.  Like, there was something making my tummy clench a bit.  I think it had something to do with the way Santa was looking at me—like I was the last rib at the Golden Corral buffet.

Yeah, dirty Santa was definitely giving me the eye.  I watched his gaze scan down my body lecherously and come to rest at my groin in my grey sweatpants.  I was suddenly quite self-conscious about what I was wearing.  The last few steps to him were agonizingly slow, and I was seriously debating about turning around.

But that nervous excitement in my gut couldn’t be denied.

I turned around to sit on his knee, but suddenly I felt his hands firmly at my hips.  As I was sitting, he pulled me back and fully into his lap, all while doing his best jovial HO HO HO!  My friends were all laughing and eating it up.  I felt my face flush a bit with embarrassment- not just because of this whole Santa scene, but also because when I sat down, I could most definitely feel Santa’s package pressed against my asscrack.

Fucking [banned word].  All of them I tell ya.  And something was telling me this Santa was a gay [banned word].

“Ho Ho HO young man!  And what is YOUR name?” Skeezy Santa asked .  Up close, his makeup was terrible.  Definitely theater makeup applied with a heavy hand, all caked and cracked.  Over the phony rosy cheeks and highlighted by heavy eyeliner, his dark eyes twinkled.

“Ummm, it’s Kyle,” I managed to reply.

“Oh yes.  Kyyyyyle.  I remember you,” he nodded theatrically.

“You do?” I asked naively.

“Of COURSE!  From my lists!” he laughed. “So.  Have you been a good boy this year… or a bad boy?” He asked somewhat conspiratorily.

“Um, shouldn’t you already know?  Because lists,” I say sarcastically.  (In case you couldn’t tell, I’m the sarcastic one in our group).

That’s when Santa looks at me and for a second it’s like he’s looking into my soul.  “Oh, I know exactly  what you’ve been up to- I just enjoy hearing handsome lads plead their cases.”

I gulp and am suddenly quite uncomfortable with all of this while my stomach continues doing backflips.  “I, ah, I guess I’ve been pretty good this year.  I’m getting good grades.  Helping mom at home.  Staying out of trouble.  Stuff like that.”

“So you have… so you have,” he says nodding again.  And then he leans in closer and whispers “And yet you’ve also been a bit… naughty… haven’t you Kyle?”  I catch the smell of cigarettes and a faint whiff of alcohol.  He shifts a bit underneath me, and I can feel him stiffening inside his red velvet pants. From what I can tell, Santa’s proverbial stocking is definitely hung.

Feeling his massive member pressing against my ass makes me shiver, and I feel a bit like I’m going to hurl.  The simultaneous feelings of revulsion and titilation really mess me up.  “I don’t know… what… what you’re implying…” I stammer.

“Oh, I think you do,” he whispers even more quietly, punctuating it with a flex of his cock. “You’ve been more than a bit naughty this year—with some school chums, I’d wager  Perhaps even your friend Matt?”

I feel my face go hot with shame and embarrassment.  He couldn’t possibly know my secret. That I liked guys.  And worse- that I’ve had sex with a handful of guys from school.  Sure it was mostly just blowjobs, but not always.  And since this past summer, I’d been getting fucked about every other day by Jimmy Pulaski from the swim team.  That was totally our secret to the grave!

I could feel Santa’s eyes boring hungrily into me.

“Oh Kyle,” he chided. “You know the song.  I see you when you’re sleeping.  I know when you’re awake.  I know if you’ve been bad… watching gay porn on your phone and jacking off at night.  Sucking off boys at sleep overs.  Fantasizing about getting fucked by your cute friend Matt.”

“I’m not familiar with those particular lyrics,” I manage to squeak out.  This makes him laugh, like for real-real.

“I know EXACTLY what kind of boy you are, Kyle.  I can spot your kind a mile away,” he whispers with a grin.  “And I’m pretty sure you can feel what kind of Santa I am.”  Again, he grinds his now wickedly hard cock into my ass as he makes a show of adjusting me on his lap.  And again I’m mortified- and aroused.

Santa lets out a good round of Ho-ho-hos and I steal a glance at my friends.  They are loving seeing me so uncomfortable.  If only they knew why.

“Oh Kyle.  You have definitely been the highlight of my day!  So here’s what Santa can do for you for Christmas.  If you consider yourself a nice boy, then by all means, go back to your friends.  Have fun here at the mall.  Then go on home to your mom like a good lad, and I’ll make sure you get a little something under the tree this year.”  Then he lowered his voice and the phony Santa schtick disappeared.  “But if ya feel like being naughty?  Well.  I have a special BIG gift for you.  And if you want that special gift- meet me here at 8 when my Santa’s village closes tonight.”

He then mugged for the camera, and his Elf helper took our picture with a knowing smirk.  I looked at the proof, but declined to purchase it.  In it Santa looked like a sleazy Walt Whitman, and I looked like a deer caught in headlights.

I rejoined my friends and we were off in a cloud of laughter.  Matty and MJ were chatting loudly about how skeevy the Santa was, like it was all some big joke.  Brit was just telling them to leave the old guy alone and that he probably really needed the job.  And I was quiet- trying not to feel the ghost imprint of his cock against my ass.

My friends and I hung around the mall for a couple more hours—hitting the food court for Sbarro and Egg Rolls, and generally bumming around and shooting the shit.  I tried my best to be present and join in the conversations, but Santa’s words were rattling around my head.  Of course I was a nice boy.  I was just gonna head home tonight… right?  So why was I even thinking about the way his big cock felt as I sat on his lap.  And my was my stomach still all fluttery while I was thinking about it.

7:30 rolled around and we all decided it was time to beat it for home.  We headed for the exit, and just as I was leaving I startled myself by saying, “Oh shit. I just remembered!  I was gonna pick up something for mom for Christmas while I was here.  You guys go on- I’ll catch you tomorrow at school.”

We said our goodbyes , and suddenly I was alone.

I was alone at the Mall.  Where a sketch as fuck, hung Santa propositioned me.  And I was actually entertaining the idea.

What.  The literal FUCK.  Was I doing?

The next 30 minutes were agony.  I paced the mall, debating with myself.  I should just go home.  But I was curious.  I wouldn’t have to do anything.  I could maybe just ask him how he know about me?  Was I obvious? No, I should just go home now.  Forget this weird Santa business.  But maybe I could just… see his dick?  Not like actually touch it or anything because gross.  But it felt massive.  Like waaaay bigger than Jimmy’s.  Or even Tony Scarpucci’s, which gagged the hell out of me that one time when he got drunk at homecoming.  Why the fuck was I even entertaining this?  He’s a pervy old fuck!  I should just…

And then it was 8:02 pm.  And I found myself standing outside Santa’s sketchy village.

The sign was flipped to closed, and the lights were off at the Gingerbread house.  The elf guy was already out of costume and was helping to tidy things up.  Santa looked up and saw me standing there and smiled.

“I was wondering if you’d show up, kiddo,” he said.  I just stood there and looked at my feet.

“I can handle the rest, Eric.  You can go on home.  Now,” Santa said pointedly to Eric.  Eric looked from Santa to me and smirked again.

“Is Santa doing some special gift-giving tonight?” Eric asked breezily.

Santa lay a finger on the side of his nose and winked.  And with that, Eric said a cheery “have fun… and good luck, dude!” and left us alone.

Santa turned to me.  “So Kyle.  I need to get out of this makeup and stuff.  Come on into the house here and keep me company?”  And he headed for the Gingerbread house door.

“I thought this was just some phony prop,” I said.

“It is,” he replied.  “But it’s also our break room/dressing room.  It’s small, but it works.  And best of all, it’s private.”  And with that I followed him inside.  He locked the door behind us.

Inside was definitely small.  There was a rack for costumes, three vinyl chairs, and a small table/mirror setup with those round globe makeup lights.  Scattered about the table was makeup, tissues, an ashtray and other detritus.  It smelled like cigarettes and B.O.  And … something else I couldn’t identify.

“Cozy,” I quipped.

He laughed.  “Take a seat, kiddo.”

Santa reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels.  He unscrewed the top and took a healthy swig.  He looked over at me and said, “Want a pull?  Might help you relax some.”  I shook my head.  He just shrugged, set the bottle on the makeup table, and started to disrobe.

“Oh! Um…” I kind of stammered.

“Oh don’t worry.  I just gotta get out of the jacket and hat and stuff.”  He first took off the hat and wig and placed them on a stand.  Then he took off the dirty jacket and the pads that were underneath to make him appear chubby.  This Santa was actually quite thin underneath the padding and baggy clothing.  He was nearly emaciated looking, but with a slight paunch.  I was reminded of the Christmas Claymation special where Mrs. Claus says “Nobody likes a skinny Santa.”

I kinda did.

Soon Santa was standing in front of me, still in his red velvet pants, but also in a dirty wife beater.  He had skinny, bony arms and on his shoulder was an odd tattoo—three interlocking semicircles.  He still had the beard —I assumed it was spirit gummed in place.  Without the hat, Santa was mostly bald, but with a rim of close cropped silver hair.  I just stared up at him.

“The illusion shattered, huh kid?” He said with a smile.  “And by the way… my name is Carl.”  Then he sat at the makeup mirror so he could start removing his makeup.  He was old school—Vaseline and paper towels.  I watched as he got to work.  Our eyes met in the mirror.

“So.  You came back.  Why?” He asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.  I guess I was just… curious?”

“Curious about…?” he led.

“Oh, I guess curious about how you knew I was… that I …” I trailed off.

“That you were a horny little cocksucker?” He offered.

“WHAT?” I shot back.

“Kid, relax.  It’s not like you scream “faggot” when I look at you.  But we gays?  We just know, ya know?  Or at least I had a hunch.  And you are cute as fuck, so I pushed it.  Plus it was a dead night and I figured why the hell not?  I might get lucky.  And after your initial reactions to sitting in my lap and my… stiffness… I knew you weren’t about to blab to anyone.”

“But… but how did you know about me… doing stuff… with guys?”

Carl laughed at that.  “Boy, you may not think it when you look at me, but I was a young faggot once too.  I know what I was doing back I when I was your age.  Besides, I could see the way you were looking at your friend Matt.  I’ve had that same look on my face before.”

My face flushed again with that.

Suddenly he spun in his chair to face me.  “So—while this is nice and all, let’s get down to brass tacks.  Did you also come back tonight because you liked what you felt pressed up against that pretty little ass of yours?” Carl stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh… um… I…” was about all I could get out.

“So, that’s a yes.  Yeah, all you boys seem to get turned on by big cock.  Bet you’re hoping to see it too.  Maybe just to see how big I really am?” he leered.

I just looked away, and then nodded.

“So, why don’t you help ol Saint Dick along a bit and tell me what all you’ve done with your buddy Matt?” he says as his hand drops to his lap.

“I have NEVER done anything with Matt!” I say, flustered.

“Well, you ain’t innocent.  I can tell you’ve got some miles on ya.  So tell me.  Who’s fucking that tight little bubble butt of yours?  Give an old horny Santa some details!”

And here I was.  Sitting in the broken down Gingerbread house in the middle of the dead mall with a sketchy old [banned word] Santa, and he was asking about my sex life.  And I was honestly thinking about doing it.  After all, I was here— and I’ve never told a soul about any of my escapades.  I kinda liked the idea of speaking my truth out loud, you know?

Boy,  If you’d have told me this is where my day would have ended up, I’d have told you that you were smoking crack.

So I took a deep breath and started to tell him about Jimmy.

“The, um, most stuff I’ve done is with a guy in my class named Jimmy Pulaski.  He’s on the swim team and one of the school jocks.  I met him at this one girl’s birthday party over the summer.  We were both drinking a little and he followed me into the bathroom because we both had to go.  We both peed at the same time, and before I knew it we were making out.  And then I was blowing him right there in the bathroom.  It didn’t take long.  Then about a week later he sees me at school and asks what I’m doing after.  I tell him not much, and he invites me over because his parents don’t get home until 6.  And we end up messing around again—me blowing him.  Then it becomes this regular thing.  And soon we go from blowjobs to him fucking me.  The first time was in his bedroom after school.  Mostly it’s in his bedroom, and it’s always him fucking me.  He doesn’t blow me or jack me or anything- we just fuck.  I mean, it’s fun I guess.  I like it.  Sometimes I even cum while he’s fucking me…” I’m lost in the remembrance for a moment, and then I snap out of it.  My eyes dart down and I see Carl stroking himself through the red suit pants.  He looks like he’s at full mast.

“Ah, young lust.  I remember those days well.  When the straight boys just sort of fucked because it was convenient and fun.  So, how’s that polack dick?  Any good?” Carl inquires.

“Um…yeah.  It’s pretty decent.  Thick.  He’s uncut.  Probably about 7 inches I guess?  It feels good.”

“No condom I’m guessing,” he says.  It’s not really a question.  I shake my head no.

He cum in you?”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

“And you like that, don’t you?” Carl leers and licks his lips.

“Yes,” I say again even more quietly.

“And that’s what makes you a naughty boy.  And I think it’s why you came back tonight.”  I don’t respond, but the butterflies in my stomach are basically beating out a morse code of YESYESYES.

Carl stands up slowly and his crotch is right in front of me.  The red santa suit pants tent out obscenely in front of him.  I sit there, frozen.

“Go on, boy.  You know you want to.  Just unzip the pants and haul it out.  It won’t hurt you… yet.”

I hesitate, and he flexes it inside the pants.  I can see a wet spot starting to seep through the velvet, darkening the fabric to the color of blood.

I reach out slowly and brush his hardness through the pants.  His dick jumps as he sucks in a sharp breath.  “I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this,” I think.  “But just a look.  Just to see how big…”. And then my fingers find the fly and slowly pull down the zipper.

I reach in and feel the heat pulsing from his groin.  I have to fish around a bit to get him through the opening, but then there it is.  This massive, ruddy, rock hard prong jutting out proudly from the santa pants.  It’s hard to tell exactly how big he is, but it’s definitely the biggest dick I’ve seen.  It’s of porn proportions. I grip the base of it just to feel it, and my fingers don’t touch around his girth.   

“Holy shit,” I manage.

“I get that a lot,” he chuckles.  He then reached down to also tug out his balls.  He has the proverbial “old man balls” going on, but they’re equally as epic as his cock.  His balls are BIG.  And they HANG.  They literally hang to the middle of his thighs.

“Holy SHIT,” I say again.

“In my youth, I spent time doing the ball stretching thing.  And now gravity has taken over, especially when they’re full like they are now.  After all, I had cute twink edge me up all day.”  He looks down at me and winks.  “They really get swinging when I’m fucking, too.  They’ll swing and slap your nuts and dick.”

I don’t know quite what to say to that.

“Ok Kyle.  Time to show me what that mouth can do.  Suck me like you suck Jimmy,” he commands.

“Um, I’m not sure…” I start.

“Yes you are.  You want it.  That’s why you came here tonight.  You want it all.  You wanna taste it.  And Once you get a taste, I bet you’re gonna want me to fuck you.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could ever take THAT.  It would rip me open!” I say.

“You’d be surprised what a willing bottom can take,” he says.

His dick jumps in front of me again, and a drop of precum squeezes out the piss slit and starts to drool down from the end in a long string.  I reach out and touch it with my fingers, fascinated.  And before I can even think about what I’m doing, I touch my fingers to my tongue.  His precum is slightly bitter and salty.

“There you go… that’s a good boy.  Now, let’s get the head in your mouth.”

My brain is racing again—what the fuck am I doing?  Am I really going to go down on Sketchy Santa?  At the MALL??  It’s getting late and I should be home.  What that fuck kind of faggot am I?  But then I look at that massive cock again and it hits me like a slap.  I know exactly what kind of faggot I am.

And I take the great knob of his cock into my mouth greedily.

Carl’s head tips back and he lets out a big sigh as I start sucking him.  Admittedly I don’t think I’m that good a cock sucker.  I gag way too much and I really don’t know what all I should be doing.  Mostly I just slurp around and move my hand up and down.  Carl doesn’t seem to mind though.

And jesus, he’s fucking big!  I can maaaaaybe get 1/3 of him in my mouth before I gag and have to stop.  I’ve heard of guys and girls deepthroating entire cocks (MJ brags that she can do it), but I can’t.  His head is just too big to even think about going down my throat.

I take a break from sucking and get my hands around him to sort of “measure” him.  I put my right hand at the base, and my left on top of that.  Then I took my right hand off and put it on top of my left… and the head of his dick was still above my thumb and forefinger.  Fuck.  Three full hands worth of dick.  Plus the head!

I also take a measure of his balls.  I grab at the base of his ball sack, and his balls still hang freely below my hand.  I experiment by trying to take one testicle in my mouth.  Carl moans in delight as I tongue and lightly suck on one testie.  There’s no way I could get both in.

“You like Santa’s sack, huh boy?” Carl says.

“Yeah, I do sir,” I reply as I go back to playing with his nuts.

“Well, there’s lots of little toys in that sack just waiting for a good boy to receive them.”

I went back to sucking his cock as best I could for awhile, but suddenly Carl steps back and away from my mouth.  “Ok, boy.  I think it’s time I got a closer look at that ass of yours.”  He hoists me up by my armpits, spins me over to the makeup table and bends me over.

“Oh, I don’t know about… I’ve never done….” I say with some trepidation.

“Relax, kiddo.  I’m just gonna eat that little pucker of yours.  But first, let me get rid of this damn Santa beard.”  In the mirror, I see him reach up and start to tug at the phony beard.

“Wait!  Um… can you leave the beard on?” I ask tentatively.  “And… um… maybe put on the santa hat?”

Carl meets my eyes in the mirror and chuckles.  “Ho Ho Ho!  Well it seems young Kyle has a Santa kink!  You like silver daddies, Kyle?  Santa types with beards?  Is that what turns you on?”

I blushed furiously in response.  Honestly, I didn’t know why I asked.  Sure, my head was always turned by older men— coaches, teachers, etc.  But there was just something about this scene.  The mall santa (sketchy as he was), the gingerbread house, the beard and the suit… for some reason it all enticed me.  I couldn’t explain it.

“Well Kyle.  Let’s see if this hole is as naught and nice as I suspect it is.”  Carl is now talking a bit more like Santa, and I gotta be honest.  It’s doing it for me.  How fucked is THAT?

Carl pulls down my sweats to reveal my bare ass.  I feel his bony hands pull open my ass cheeks, and then I feel his hot breath in the crack of my ass.

“Fuckin beautiful,” he exhales, before diving his tongue into my quivering hole.

I’ve never felt anything like this before.  Nobody has ever eaten my ass, and the feeling is exquisite.  The heat.  The wetness.  The movement of the tongue.  The beard… my god.  The BEARD! I can feel myself relaxing and trying to spread my legs wider, only to be hampered by the sweats binding my legs up.

Carl sees what I’m doing and he deftly helps me lose my shoes and sweats.  While still tonguing my fuckpucker, he pulls off my right shoe.  And then he works my sweats down and off that foot.  Once freed, I’m able to spread my legs wide and bend over more for Carl, so he has more access to my hole.  And I’m loving every second.

Mostly my eyes are closed for this, but I did open them briefly and I saw myself in the mirror.  I almost didn’t recognize myself.  The naked lust on my face.  The blown pupils.  “You’re a slut like MJ,” I thought to myself. “Only worse.  You’re letting a random stranger do this.  And not just a stranger—one old enough to be your grandpa.”

And yeah.  God help me, I fucking loved it.

While Carl was buried in my butthole, I piped up and asked him.  “Hey Carl?  How old are you?”

Carl stopped eating my ass and leaned back.  “Why?  How old are YOU?” he says suspiciously.

“You’re a mall santa eating the ass of a young guy in your dressing house— something tells me you don’t really care how old I am,” I say.

“Look kid.  I ain’t no pedo.  I like my boys to be old enough to know what they’re doing and appreciate this cock. And I would really prefer not to go back to prison so….”

“Is that where you got that tattoo?”  I gesture to his shoulder.

He looks at it.  “Oh yeah.  That’s where I got it,” he says with a wry smile.

“Well, don’t worry. As of September I’m old enough to vote and serve our country.  All good.”

Carl goes back to eating my ass.  He pauses just long enough to say from my crack, “I’m 68.”

“Wow.  My grandpa Henry is only 61,” I say.

“You turned off by a man 50 years your senior eating your hole, boy?”

“No.  Not at all.  Actually, it’s kinda hot knowing that older guys are still horny for it.”  And to show that he is, he redoubles his efforts on my hole.

I’m not sure how long Carl ate my ass.  He kept tonguing and spitting and tonguing and spitting, and occasionally teasing my hole with a finger.  I could feel my back arching and my ass pressing back into his face and finger—I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t think I could take what was bound to happen next.

Carl, being a savvy man of the world could read my body language.  He stood up and moved behind me. Our eyes locked in the mirror as he did this.  I watched as he drooled a lot of spit out onto my ass and his cock, and then I felt him slowly start to slide his massive meat against my spit slick crack.

Just the feel of that much cock sliding against me has me almost cumming.  Involuntarily I start moving in rhythm with his humping motion, getting that monster to slide in my crack like a Chicago footlong in a bun.

I see him reach across the makeup table where he grabs the jar of Vaseline.  Shit- I guess we’re going old school for this, I think.  He scoops up a generous portion and starts to finger my hole with it.  He’s very good—teasing and circling around slowly. Eventually working in a finger.  Then two.  But I’m tensing up for the fingering.  No guy has ever put a digit in me either—only dick.  So his bony fingers feel sharp and foreign.

Next he slathers up his dick with another goodly amount of Vaseline.  I see his hefty meat shining in the lights from the mirror.  He goes back to rubbing it against my ass, and then he stops and positions his head at my pucker.

“Wait.  Shouldn’t we get a condom?”

“Why?  You don’t make Jimmy wear one.  Or the other guys.  Why start now?   And trust me—it’s going to be hard enough getting this inside without the friction and tightness of a condom.”  And to emphasize his point, Carl nudges his head forward a fraction of an inch.  Even with the Vaseline it burns a bit.

“Oh dear baby jesus… that’s never going in,” I said with a shiver.

“Oh yes it will.  All it takes is a little Christmas magic,” he says.

Carl reaches into the pocket of his Santa pants and pulls out a small, brown bottle.  He hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I say?

“Christmas magic, of course,” he says with a grin.  “You ever wonder how Santa can get his fatness up and down all those tight, little chimneys?  Well, a little whiff of what’s in this bottle is all it takes.”

I am really hesitant at this point, and I draw the line at drugs.  So I just hold the bottle, and Carl says “Suit yourself.”  And he starts to push inside me.

“Oh FUCK that hurts!” I cry out as I try to squirm away.

“Hush up!” Carl commands.  “These walls aint exactly soundproof.”  He starts to slowly push in again.

“Wait wait wait!” I whisper.  “I think I need some magic.”

Carl pauses as I uncap the bottle.  I’m met with a sweet, yet acrid chemical smell.  “Just place the bottle under you nose and inhale a bit.  It’s like smelling salts… for your asshole.”  So I place the bottle under my nose and take a deep sniff.

The warmth soon floods over my body and I feel tingly and a bit dizzy.  I also notice a pressure at my asshole.  A slightly burning, stretching feeling, and a fullness inside.  Somewhere in my brain, I realize that Carl’s huge penis is starting to make it’s way inside me.  I also dimly realize that it hurts a bit, but I also kinda don’t mind that it hurts a bit.

“Oh my god…” I exhale.

“Just you wait, kiddo.  I ain’t even CLOSE to being all the way in.  Take another whiff and we’ll see how far I can get.”

With a few more inhalations of the brown bottle and some steady pressure from Carl, he slowly starts to make forward progress.  Carl has one of those dicks that is ramrod straight and hard, but not like steel.  There is still a little sponge to the head and shaft.  Like he’s 95% hard and rarin’ to fuck.

Soon I feel my ass stuffed to the point of tearing.  I also feel a dull pain inside where evidently Carl’s prick has hit bottom.

“Ouch,” I tell him.  “I think that’s as much as I can take.  Maybe you should pull out now.”

“You mean like this?” he says, as he slowly starts to retreat out of me.  The long pullout is intense and makes me shudder as his meat drags across my prostate.

“Oh FUCK me that’s good!” I manage to croak out.

Carl doesn’t pull all the way out.  Instead, he leaves his head parked inside and adds more Vaseline to his dick.  Then he starts the long, slow slide back in.  His dick moves more easily this time—like either I’m relaxing more or the Vaseline has finally slickened me up enough.

Carl bottoms out again, and backs out again.  Rinse.  Repeat.  And I occasionally hit the bottle for relaxation help.  After a few minutes, he pushes in to the stopping point again.

“Kid, we gotta get past this point.  I’m at your second ring and I got a good two inches left of dick to give you.  You need to trust me that once I get past this point, you are gonna find the true meaning of Christmas.  So take a good whiff and relax for me.”

I do as I’m told and I exhale and will myself to relax.  I feel Carl’s massive head pushing deep inside my guts.  It hurts, I’m not going to lie.  But in a weird way.  Like, it’s both a sharp and dull ache inside me, but there is a pleasure quotient that is also undeniable.  He pushes ever so slowly and the pain builds, and then…

Joy to the motherfucking WORLD!

“Now THAT’S a good boy!” Carl exclaimed.  “You just made my secret ‘special’ Naughty List!”

The feeling when his head breached that deep deep place inside me?  I honestly don’t know how to describe it.  Once his head popped in—I felt his cock slide easily all the way to the root inside me.  The brief intense pain was replaced by pleasure that nearly caused my knees to buckle.

“Oh… my…  God…  Oh……. My……. GOD!”  I gasped.

Carl stayed buried inside me and made small movements back and forth and around, and all of it was pure pleasure.  Then he slowly withdrew, maybe about midway, and then pushed forward again.  This time his head popped in with only a little resistance.”

“Now you’re opening up.  I told you Santa had a big ol present for a special boy!”

I was now freely hitting the bottle and getting more into the fuck while Carl started to slowly pick up tempo.  I honestly lost track of time in my haze, but before long, Carl was really giving me all of this dick.  Like slowly pulling out until only his head was inside, then shoving in until his bony hips slapped my muscle butt.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m taking it all!” I groan.

“Yeah, all the precum I’m leaking has lubed you up inside so your guts are slick.  We can get to fuckin now,” he says.

Carl then started to fuck and snap his hips forward.  That’s when I felt the first ball slap.  As promised, his balls swung forward and tapped mine making me gasp.  “Oh!”  The feeling both startled me and turned me on.

“Told ya, kiddo.  My balls will really get to slapping you now.”  And they did.

More bottle snorts, more relaxation, and I caught myself in the mirror again.  This time I watched.  It was like I was watching one of the porn scenes I so frequently jacked off to.  Only I was also feeling the pleasure from the fuck at the same time.  The guy in the mirror was gooned out all the way, tongue lolling out, drooling on the table.  Fucking back onto Santa with every thrust and having his balls slap repeatedly into his balls and taint.  And Santa was gripping the guy in the mirror’s hips hard, as he hungrily watched his cock disappear repeatedly inside the young guy’s ass.

“Oh Christ kid, you’ve got me close!” Santa says.

Carl keeps fucking me with all of his might and I swear I feel his cock get harder.  Like that extra 5%, which translated into like another half inch of dick and some extra girth.  I’m feeling every damn thrust from him and my insides are starting to ache mightily.   His balls are also tightening up, as they’re now only slapping into my taint, which is oddly working up my own orgasm.

I know what’s coming (or so I think) and the small, intellectual part of my brain is saying “don’t let this stranger cum inside you.”  But the animal side of my brain has fully taken over now and I find myself willing him to cum.  I WANT to feel him cum inside me.  I DESERVE it after all.

“You ready for your gift Kyle?  Santa has a special gift for naughty boys!”  His eyes lock on mine in the mirror.  “It’s coming.  Do you want Santa’s gift?  Tell me you’ve been a naughty boy.  Beg me for your gift!”

“Fuck yeah, Santa!  I’ve been so fucking naughty!  Letting guys fuck me.  I want your special gift for Christmas!  Please Santa?”

“Here it come’s boy!  A gift you’ll never forget!”  And with that he thrusts one more time, hard, and buries himself deep inside me.  And I feel it.  I feel him cum.  The throbs of his orgasm cause his cock to press deeper inside me and stretch my hole.  I feel every spurt.  Every dick twitch as he unloads all the way up inside me.

The feeling of him cumming inside me pushes me over the edge.  This entire time I’ve been rock hard and leaking precum everywhere, but I haven’t once touched my dick, and neither has Carl.  But we didn’t need to.  Carl is still spurting inside me when I arch back and start launching my load.  I’m proud to say I completely spackled that makeup mirror and table.  It was running down in streaks like a scene in a horror film.

Carl saw it and just chuckled.  “I’m gonna have to clean that before Eric comes in tomorrow,” he says.

Now that I’ve cum, the realization of what I’ve done is starting to set in.  I start to panic a little as I pull off Carl’s softening dick.  When he slides out of my ass, a large blob of cum drips out of my hole and hits the floor.

“Oh my god!  You fucked me.  You CAME in me!  What the fuck was I thinking??  Jesus, you tricked me you fucking [banned word]!” I spat.

“Now now, Kyle, don’t get chippy.  You wanted this.  You know you did.  And hell,  I just bet in a couple days you’ll come back to visit Santa because that ass will be craving another Christmas gift.”

I start to reply but am cut short by a PA announcement from the Mall.  “The Mall will be closing in 5 minutes.  Please make your way to the exits.”

“Better get going home to Mom, kiddo,” Carl says with a smirk.  “Hope you enjoy your gift.  Oh, and if you want more, you know where to find me.  Maybe next time I can arrange for another Santa too?  I know Terry the black Santa here would love a shot at that ass.”

I pulled up my sweats, threw on my shoe and beat feet for the exit… and home.  I beat myself up the entire drive home, cursing Carl and my stupidity.  I dashed past mom while apologizing for being late and ran to my room.  As I lay in bed, I tried to forget what had happened at the mall.  But my sore wet ass was a constant reminder.  As was my relentless boner that took jacking off 3 times to make go away.  And yeah- I thought about Carl’s cock breeding me every time I jacked for the next 4 days.

Until I went back to the mall on Monday evening….

[Faithboy]

Great story, so hot! Please keep going.

 

[negchaserlooking]

That was so fucking hot. Perhaps a once off story but happy to see more if there is any

[shinelover]

Fucking HOT story! I hope there will be more 😜

[Guest]

I can't  ever remember a Santa like that can you?  Horny or what...

[aussieamylpig]

Get your good poppers out boys and goon along to this story sniff for sniff 

[Swimer2]

Love your story

[phxchub]

Oh fuck this is the hottest thing I've read lately

[BlindRawFucker1]

HOT!!!

More PLEASE!

[Swimer2]

Great story

[Ben1]

Very lucky boi.  Would happily give Santa my  hole. 

[austin_submale]

Holy fuck.  Spermpig never disappoints.  What an awesome story!

 

[Mysteryman10]

Holy fuckung Jesus!! I can't walk around in public with a boner all day & that's what this story has done to me. This deserves at least a follow up maybe even a third. It reminded me of a sleezy santa I saw in florida In the kissimmee mall years ago & yes they had all the right dodgy shops that you describe. I just wished instead of the hispanic load I took at bigkmart waa santa's load & then more. Its a sleezy story but just hot enough to make you think your the character-i certainly would bend for him now & take as many loads as he wanted to charge me up with. Keep writinh please!!

[crispyfuck]

Wow I want santa's special gift too 

[drew4fun]

Spermpig, that is an awesome story line. Loved it.  I appreciate you and your skills, and hope to read more.  Well Done!