Helping Santa

[[This is a work of fiction based entirely off of other fiction]]

[[Thanks]]

So...

I was a big ole slut when I was younger. Not that I changed much, but boy did I have stories. And I'm sure other boys my age got into all manner of naughty business with each other when they were my age too. But this isn't about them.

You see, I've been interested in men since I was young. Real young. I liked seeing men waltz around in the locker rooms buck naked as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I loved seeing the confident smiles they had when their magnificent bodies were hanging out in the open for all to see, like the marble gods they were. I LOVED men. And I didn't even know why!

Here I was, almost snooping around the local gym's bathrooms completely unattended. My parents would bring me there. Sometimes I'd walk myself. But like cockwork, I would stride into the men's room, look around as casually as I could at any men in towels, and be totally gobsmacked. A muscled Adonis is using the urinal next to me. I go to wash my hands and a gorgeous portly man is drying his jewels with one leg up on a bench. My eyes are GLUED to these works of art. And that heated feeling is welling up inside my accelerant, pounding chest. I try to make a point of not staring and respecting anyone's privacy. But some of these poses look way too open to not be explicitly for my benefit.

I leave the Locker Room and gym practically glowing. I've finally managed to scrape myself away from the beautiful nude gallery so as not to stare for too long. And I'm warmly reminiscing all the way to the mall nearby. Warmly as I can at least. There's a winter chill something fierce this year and unexpectedly I find myself breathlessly running the last couple hundred feet.

I throw myself a little too hard into the double doors, which barely give, and proceed to mash myself into the building. Finally, I can start warming myself back up. I am bundled up and everything, but I take off the gloves to friction my hands together. And when my senses return, I realize the shmaltzy jazz renditions of Christmas songs pooling around me. There's no denying it. The smell of commercialism is in the air. It's December. Whoopie.

In a number of ways, I feel disillusioned for even my age. But if I'm being honest, I really love Christmas. The Red and Green glittering gifts. The notion that we should give kindness to others without question. The creation of cozy warm rituals despite or because of the cold weather. Christmas is just really nice.

And passing by a number of decked out windows, full of sales and yuletide themes, I see a queue. A queue that leads up to an ostentatious display through red and white streamers. The line leads up, crisscrossing through wreathed white fences and reindeer cutouts, leading to a holly Jolly Santa! Well. Maybe not so Jolly. The closer I come to passing, the more I see that the line is much shorter than the queue allows. And that Santa here looks a little bit bored. I can see him directly by the way the line wraps around in a wide arc, and that there's only one other person ahead of me in line, before realizing I was in line.

Why was I in line?! I mean, I had noticed that Santa was looking strangely attractive this year. Like his outfit fit him really well and showed up his full figure. But I was at an age where it was getting more unusual to go up and sit on Santa's lap. And I didn't even have a parent with me, goading me towards him for a picture. And before I knew it, the girl ahead of me and her parents were already taking their turn! I was trapped. I had too long of a distance to awkwardly run backwards through the queue, and the only way forwards was to shimmy between Santa and this other girl's parents. I was stuck deliberating in a sweat until it was too late and Santa and I were being left alone!

The girl ahead and her parents happily trotted away with laughs and giggles. Santa looked at me directly. Emotions took rapid turns in my chest and I found no recourse but to walk towards him. I probably looked like I was in a horror film, slowly approaching a grisly fate. Or just embarrassed to hell. I was just stupefied by his handsomeness and my own indignation.

"Helloooo", the towering man said in a disarming, singsongy baritone. He sounded tired, but still warm and genuine. I felt any discomfort I had with him wash completely away. I felt like I could speak my innermost feelings in that moment. I felt clean and good. Unfortunately the awkwardness rushed back into me as I realized I had yet to say anything back for just a little too long a pause.

"hi-Hi. Um. How are you?"

Santa smiled, as if he appreciated the question. "I'm good. How are you, mister...?

"Oh, Ricky. My name is Ricky."

"Well, Ricky. It's nice to meet you. Would you like to tell me what you want for Christmas?"

Again, his beautiful voices resonates heartily through my chest and makes me feel almost hypnotized. I feel like I were to just stay here and just chat with him I'd swoon. Maybe that's what I want. But then I realize he's waiting for a response again. And I'm realizing what I want for Christmas is to see the men from the locker rooms. To see them up close. To see men like Santa up close. To see what Santa looks like underneath his outfit... And I'm probably blushing furiously at the thought. My redness compounds in the half-seconds of silence that follow.

"I'm not... I don't know."

"Well, think about it. We've got time."

Looking back, I think he might've been bored. There were no other people in line. He probably just wanted to pass the time with someone rather than no one. Whatever the case, I blushed, felt guilty about my sudden embarrassing desires, and looked down.

"Is something the matter, Ricky?"

"I... do you ever feel like you're too different?"

I don't even know where it comes from. Maybe some place deep inside me opened up and spilled out. A confession I didn't know I had. But Santa saw me. Mustered a frown of sorts. and after a moment, knew what I needed to hear.

"Yes actually. I tend to feel plenty different in my line of work. Very few people want to live in the North Pole and deliver presents on such a tight schedule. And it's not always easy, but I think it's important. And I don't think I would be Santa, if I weren't too different. So I don't think being different is something to be ashamed of."

It's like the word of God resounding in my chest. I want to go round and preach the good word of this man, but... I feel like he's the right person to get one more thing off my chest.

"Santa I'm..."

The heat is rising, welling. I feel the beating of my heart in my chest and in my throat. I'm in a Confessional. If there's one thing that could earn my salvation though, it's spilling my heart out to this man I've suddenly fallen a bit smitten over.

"Santa I think I like... men..."

"Oh!..."

I open my eyes, only just realizing they were closed. And the sound of totally neutral acceptance has freed me from fetters. I thought this moment wouldn't be so quiet. So dead silent. The embarrassment hasn't left though. There's a heat in my face, but the shame subsides a bit as there's a notable lack of malice or judgment. Or lightning striking me down.

"Well Ricky, I'm sure plenty of men like you, too."

Oof. I'm dumbfounded. I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me. Santa totally misunderstood and I'm drained me of all my feeble nerve. I don't think I could say that again if I tried.

"No, Santa, I mean um... I like uh..."

I look up to meet his eyes and realize. His eyes are shining at me with something. Clarity... recognition, and... something else. There's an almost sinister shine in his eyes.

"I think I understand, Ricky. You know... It's not all easy being Santa. The work can get pretty tiring, hefting big packages all around... not just anyone can do it. And I think it takes someone really special, someone different, to be able to help out someone like me."

Santa makes a minute gesture, stretching his pantleg out as if to adjust his underwear beneath. His body seems to ease into the chair comfortably before me, before continuing.

"And I'm so excited to deliver these presents all year that I'm just brimming with holiday spirits. It gets too much to carry all on my own."

Something lewd is growing. A Feeling. A presence.

"Ricky... would you like to help me?"

My body has gone cold. An invitation? Santa is staring at me and I want for nothing on this earth but to do whatever this man wants. and to see more of him. I'm nodding without a thought.

Santa looks behind me. Looks all about. The mall is almost completely empty. It's a Wednesday afternoon on break, and no one is here.

"Come with me," Santa sings, getting up from his seat and adjusting briefly before leaving the empty queue behind.

~~~~~

I float behind Santa. I have no clue what to expect. I just really really hope that helping Santa means getting to spend more time with him. My heart is swelling and speeding and I want to be with him. I don't know why, but I'm heady and I follow this gorgeous man to the restrooms.

He opens the door for me to one of several "Family Restrooms," gesturing like a perfect gentleman.

"We can get started in here. Don't worry, there's not too much to unpack just yet."

"Is it okay to use the Family ones?"

He nods, "They're all unoccupied. Besides, you're helping me out here bigtime, champ. As far as I'm concerned? You're family." He says this and winks. He had me at the nod, but telling me I was good help made me melt. I felt warmth and purpose as I strode in. He followed and clicked the lock behind us.

"Okay, there are a few important things I want to cover first, Ricky. First one? Secrecy. Part of my magic comes with keeping away secrets from any naughty-listers. That means not letting them know my weakness or what kind of help I need. We need to keep this real close to the chest. Okay?"

I nod, solemnly

"Second, Trust."

He unlocks and locks the door, demonstratively.

"I want you to be here because you're willing to be here. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can tell me. or you can walk away. This needs to be a bond of mutual respect. Okay?"

I think for a minute. Why would I want to leave? I can't imagine it, but I appreciate the option and nod in agreement.

"That's it! We can talk more later, but Ricky... I could really use your help with a certain package right about now."

Santa had walked himself by me and planted his butt against the sink. He was a beautiful marvel of a man leaning comfortably in red, stark against a surprisingly clean restroom. I didn't understand what he was asking for, but I noticed when he pulled flaccidly at a growing lump at his crotch.

I could hear my heartbeat. I'd bet that he could hear it too. A swelling feeling was palpable in the air. I gulped and looked up at his face. He knew I was looking at the lewd lump in his soft red pants and I flushed in embarrassment. The feeling from the locker room and watching those men. But now, there was only one man. And he was fully acknowledging me. And me him, but mostly his...

"I hardly get much time between Meet'and'Greets and Package Delivery," Santa groaned, "I don't get much time to... spread my own joy."

Something flexes in his hand, beneath his trousers.

I'm spellbound. Santa is so much man, relaxing right in front of me. His clothes look heavy, like they might spill off of him at any moment if I stare hard enough. And I'm trying to stare hard enough.

"Would you like to see it, Ricky?"

I would. And I've nodded before I can think about it. Santa's red shirt spills open, revealing what appears to be a big beer-gut tummy, barely held back by a worn tank top. He reaches up and pulls free a belt end from the buckle, before letting it jangle pleasantly to the side. Then he did something that elicited an enormous heat of excitement. Adrenaline. He opened his red trousers, reached deep into the front hole of his white briefs, and fished out his cock.

I went dead still. I was swimming in heat. I could've died in that moment from the intensity of just seeing all that meat pulsing in front of me. I swallowed instinctually. He let it hang in front of me for a second before realizing I could use some instruction.

"C'mere Ricky... why don't you come get a taste?"

He ushered me to my knees by doing little more than gently grabbing his fat cock and milking a bead of pre out. I didn't know what I wanted but I wanted it bad. Perhaps greater than any want I had wanted before. I don't remember getting down on my knees, but suddenly I was face to face with it. The beautiful cock head being held out to meet me.

"Open up. Say Ah"

I did. And I was rewarded by having the cock head dragged down my hanging tongue. I swallowed again. I didn't know what it all meant... for a hefty, beautiful man to be dragging his mighty cock across my tongue and giving me the first taste of his seed... but it was as if my body knew. Knew that it was what I needed.

"Ohh, you are going to be such a good helper for Santa," he cooed. "Go ahead and lick it for me a bit. Then see if you can gently get your whole mouth around my meat. Careful about your teeth."

I obey wholeheartedly. I am getting to be a good help and it's like I was made to do this. At Santa's approval, I take his penis in my hand and it seems to pulse appreciatively at my squeezes and licks. Another bead of pearly white forms on the head and Santa gives me an encouraging nod. I look at it and drag my tongue across the head, mimicking the earlier motion. Santa groans beautifully and beckons me to continue. I'm rubbing my tongue around the ridge along the head. I'm licking down the shaft and start to angle the cock towards my mouth. It's a LOT, I realize. More than it looked when I was standing and gawking at it earlier. Did it grow since I knelt down?

I've got the cock aimed at my mouth and I start going down on it. It's a funny feeling, putting a cock in my mouth. I'm not sure I would've thought to do this without Santa's help. But now that I'm here? It just makes sense.

Santa seems so happy that he gently starts to pump his cock head in and out of my mouth. He's moaning with pleasure and telling me I'm so good at this, when he instructs me to pull off entirely.

I don't understand, but comply with a little hesitation. I'm on my knees, sitting back on my ankles, and this amazing hunk of a man is beating his glistening cock just above my head, rapidly pulling the foreskin back and forth over the head before plunging his fist down to the base and back again. His fat cock pulsing above me is captivating, and my mouth is already open when I'm told to open wide.

"Ohhhhh, that's right Ricky, open wide enough for Daddy Santa to gnnnnnugh... ughhhh!!"

His moans and groans make me feel right at home as spunk jets forward, landing into my waiting mouth. A second spurt darts into the back of my throat, causing me to swallow and close my mouth a bit. Then a third is let loose, splashing hard against my cheek. I think I've messed up and I open my mouth to welcome the fourth, fifth, sixth... seventh... and then a drible. Santa is sounding exhausted, like he's just finished climbing a bunch of stairs. I don't know if I've ever seen an adult looking so spent. So drained! He seems very happy though, as he smiles down at me. I keep positively still.

"Ehehhh, ahahehh... very good Ricky."

Santa seems amused. Maybe I looked silly trying to be so still. Or maybe he was watching as that thick splash of cum was running down my face. It felt huge, but I didn't dare move much, except for angling to keep it from falling off my face completely. Santa just snorted before using his shrinking cock to mop it up and stuff that into my mouth with the rest of his load.

"So... how's it taste?"

In the urgency of sitting perfectly still and catching all that I could, I hadn't really thought about it. The taste of all the cum in my mouth. It was... hard to describe. Engaging. Reverberant. A little salty, perhaps. But there was some significant substance to it that I hadn't tasted before. Earthy? Musky? I wondered aloud if that was umami.

"Ahah, something like that! It's my cum. You see... all people can cum. Some men even cum like me, but my cum is... a bit different. It might be subtle, but my cum has certain properties you might notice."

This was a lot to take in, but while I listened, I also got a chance to taste the large amount of cum in my mouth, and what I'd swallowed still simmering in my throat. The flavor was almost evolving as I listened. A definite aphrodisiac for me.

"One property for instance is that it helps us bond, spiritually. We share a bond that not many others can say they have. With my cum inside you now-"

Santa put the web of his palm to my throat, before drawing it down, to simulate the swallowing of cum.

"A part of me is inside you now. That helps me trust in you and work with you more closely. Why, I can feel myself inside you right now," He said smiling down at me. And as strange as this situation would already seem, that made me blush with shy pride.

"My spirit exists within you. With that said, it's only temporary," he frowned, "So we'll have to do it a few more times to keep it going. Feed it, so to speak. Feed you, Ricky."

His cock was waning from the hardness at full climax, but it was still large. He shook it towards me to emphasize with a point of concern:

"Would you be okay with that?"

"Y-yes!..." I just about blurted out. I worried that I was being too enthusiastic about this weird ritual. I'd swallowed down my mouthful of cum and was left wanting for more. Worried we wouldn't get to do it. Actually worried. But all was okay when I saw the reassurance in his eyes.

"Good. We can keep you topped off so to speak with regular meetings like this." He smiled. "The Second Property I want to mention!" He drew up a serious finger and expression. "Is that my cum has certain nutrients in it."

"Nutrients?"

"Yes. It's a bit complicated to explain. Simply put, my cum is very good for you. Like taking your vitamins. Or a wheatgrass shot."

I made a face, thinking about the green juice shots they sell at Juice Bars. "I think I much prefer um..." I looked up at Santa, awaiting my response. "I think I like your cum much better..."

"Perfect. I'll make you more. You'll feel brimming with the Christmas spirit in no time! But we'll have to make sure to get enough of me in you!"

I consider this notion, blush, and nod again, avoiding eye contact.

"In addition, it helps offload my stress levels. Like I've said, I've got a whole year's worth of holiday cheer building up inside of me. Really helps relieve that stress if I can let it out into you. Give you some of my load."

I'm flustered again at the thought and reddening like a tomato.

"Nowww, no need to be shy... Though truth, be told, this is a bit naughty."

I looked up in shock! The antithesis of Goodness? Telling me that we were just being naughty? I felt the sweltering blush of my sins rise up in me again. Was this because I didn't control my desire? Did I do something wrong?!

"But that's ok. Because you were helping me. It's very important that I don't get too stressed out. I can't carry all these loads myself! It gets a bit too heavy." He holds up his balls to show me the weight, "So thaaat's why you feel so warm, Rikcy. It is a little bit bad," he said smiling guiltily, "but you're doing it for the right reasons. You help take some of these loads, then you're helping me keep Christmas alive and well."

It was an awesome responsibility being posed to me. And I was delighted for it. He looked at me expectantly and I realized I needed an answer. I didn't know what to say, so I just sheepishly said: