Please do not distribute this story without permission from the author. Do not read this story if the themes offend you. Feedback welcome at markangle@hotmail.co.uk and www.markangle.org .
I knew I shouldn't have, but I waited for Santa. I waited for the house to be all quiet and I hid and waited. I was sure I would fall asleep but I didn't. I waited for a very long time. There was snow outside, but it was very warm in the living room. At some time (I don't know when: there was no clock around me), I heard a noise. I took a peek and Santa was here.
He was huge and dressed in red and white. He had a big bag, like in the pictures. He was looking at a list and seemed confused. I didn't know what to do. He was just standing there. The snow on his coat was turning into small drops of water. So I came out of my hiding place and I asked him what was wrong.
He said, "You're not supposed to see me!" I knew that. I felt bad, but I was just too curious.
Since he look upset, I told him, "Sit down, Santa." He thought about it for a moment and then he sat down on an armchair. He still looked very worried.
I asked again, "What's wrong, Santa?"
He looked down and said, "You're on my list, boy, see?" I looked at his list and my name was there. Santa went on, "But I don't know if you're naughty or nice. It should be on there, but it's not."
I thought about it and said, "Well, I try very hard to be good. But I guess only you really know how good I am." Santa was so big he was taking all the place on the armchair. He looked all soft and cuddly. I asked, "Santa, would you mind if I sat on your lap?"
Santa shot me a big, wide, smile though his big beard. His beard still had a bit of snow on it. He said in a warm, reassuring way, "Sure, boy, you can sit on my lap. Boys can always sit on Santa's lap." Santa leaned down and picked me up as if I weighed nothing. He placed me on his lap, with my face to his right. My feet were hanging off the other side of the armchair. As soon as I was on his lap, I started hugging him very hard. He smiled and said, "You like Santa, don't you, boy?" I said I guess I did. All boys like Santa. But I told Santa it just felt so good to be there. It felt warm and safe. And then I hugged him even harder. I looked up to his face. He was looking at me too. The way he had to lower his face to look at me showed me just how big Santa really was. He still had his warm, wide smile. His moustache covered his thick lips. I asked, "Santa, doesn't your moustache tickle your lips?" He smiled again and said, "I don't know. I guess I'm used to it." I pushed Santa moustache away from his top lip, but I just felt back on again. Santa said, "Now, THAT tickles!"
When I took my hand away, it brushed against Santa's beard. It was really soft. I brushed my hand against it again. I asked, "Do you mind, Santa?" But Santa said he didn't mind. I could do what I wanted. I said, "Santa, I want to show you that I'm a good boy, but I don't know how." I knew good boy did what they're told, but wasn't sure if there was anything Santa wanted me to do. As I was stroking Santa's beard, I guess I was pulling his head down, be‐ cause after a while, our lips were almost touching. When I re‐ alised that, I pulled him by the back of the neck, just a bit closer. I wanted our lips to touch. I don't know why. When they touched, I noticed how Santa smelled. He smelled like burning wood, and his belt smelled like leather, and his skin and beard smelled like a man. He wasn't smiling any more. He was looking right at me. There were a few wrinkles around his eyes.
Suddenly, Santa put a hand behind my head and pushed my face against him. He kissed me. It was a deep and powerful kiss. His other arm was holding me hard against him, grabbing me by the lower back. When he was done kissing me, he looked right down at me with very serious eyes and kissed me again, holding me very hard against him with both his arms. I put my arms around his head and pulled him back towards me. Then I pushed him back and kissed him softly on the lips. I rubbed my face in his beard. It was so soft and so big! I noticed he was sweating. I licked a bit of his sweat off of him. It was salty and manly. It made me feel all weird.
I asked, "Are you too hot, Santa?" He asked, "Do you mind if I just open up my coat, boy?" I said no.
Santa opened up his coat. He was naked under it. He had a big belly and a big chest and it was all covered with hair, with thick white hair. It was all sweaty. I started licking a bit. I didn't ask permission but it looked like Santa didn't mind. Then I started sucking on Santa's nipple. The right one. Like every‐ thing on Santa, it was huge, and it was red. I chewed on it, just a bit. Santa closed his eyes and started moaning. He pushed my head to his other nipple. I did the same thing with it. Santa's nipples got all hard and started sweating a bit. I went back to the first nipple. Santa said, "That feels good, boy. Santa likes what you're doing." I was glad I made Santa happy. It's true that I love Santa, as all boys should.
I started licking Santa around the nipples too. I licked around and, I don't know why, I got to Santa armpits. Santa felt that, and took his coat off. It just fell off on the ground. I took a small lick in Santa's armpit, and then he suddenly pushed my head right in with his other hand, and lowered his arm, so all I could breath was Santa's armpit. I never thought I could feel like that. It was like Santa was all inside of me. I breathed in as hard as I could. I didn't want to lick any more because I was afraid it would make the magical Santa smell go away. Santa lift‐ ed his arm just a bit. Santa's arm was about a wide as my whole head! Maybe even a bit wider. He said, "Now, lick, boy. Lick San‐ ta's armpit. Show Santa how much you love him by licking his pit." And as I hesitated, he added, "Do it for Santa."
I dived right in and started licking Santa's pit as hard as I could. I licked everywhere. The pit was huge. It had Santa smell from halfway up the arm, and on Santa's side, to lower than the nipple. I licked and licked and Santa was moaning and saying, "Of yes! Santa likes that." And, "Do you like Santa's pit?" And I said, "Yes, Santa. I love your pit." And Santa asked, "Do you like how Santa's pit smells?" And I said, "I love how your pit smells, Santa." But the truth was, there was less and less smell as I went. And Santa asked, "And do you like how Santa's pit tastes?" And I said, "I do, Santa. I do love how Santa's pit tastes." But I added in a small voice, "But it tasted better be‐ fore."
Santa pulled me away from his pit and smiled. He had never taken his Santa hat off. He gave me a big, deep, long kiss again lick‐ ing his own Santa smell from inside my mouth, and said, "You've made Santa very happy." I answered, "I loved it too, Santa!" Then, without saying a word, he shoved me roughly into his OTHER pit. The smell hit me like a brick! I could not believe it but it was even better than the first time. I was held down by Santa's big hand and Santa's big arm. Santa said, in his low, deep voice, "Breath it in, boy. Breath Santa in. Let Santa's smell get inside of you." I did want Santa told me to do, and breathed in as hard as I could. I wanted to feel Santa's smell fill my whole body and my whole mind. I felt like I was all empty and Santa was filling me with warm, strong happiness.
Then, when I knew the time was right, I started licking Santa. Santa started moaning. Without being told, I took short breaks to say, "I love to lick Santa's pit. I love how your pit smells, Santa. I love how Santa's pit tastes." And I added, "I love being in Santa's pit." It was true. I wished I never had to leave San‐ ta's pit. Santa said, but it was not a question, "You belong in Santa's pit, boy." I just answered, "Yes, Santa. I belong in your pit."
Then I understood something and felt very sad. I stopped licking and looked at Santa. I wanted to cry. Santa looked very upset by me being sad. He said, "What's wrong, boy?" I said, trying not to sob, "It's all gone, Santa. Your Santa smell, your Santa taste. It's all gone! I licked it all away." It felt stupid to cry for something as simple as that, but I really felt terrible about it. Santa hugged me, and kissed me hard. That made me feel better. The kiss and feeling Santa's beard all over my face. He said, "There, there, boy. Don't worry. The Santa smell you love will be back soon." But I didn't know if I could wait. This time I was really crying, and I said, "But Santa, you said that licking you showed how much I loved you, and I love you more than that, more than I've licked you. And now, I have no way to show it."
Santa hugged me again and kissed me again. He said, "There is some Santa smell left, boy. But it's only for really, really good boys." My face was covered in tears and I said, "I want to be a really good boy for you, Santa. Please let me show you that I can be a really good boy!"
He said, "Get up!" I was a bit afraid. I thought I'd said the wrong thing and he was going to go away. But he stood up and took off his trousers. He left his boots on. Huge, black, round, shiny leather boots. Like for his coat, he had nothing under his trousers. His penis was gigantic, and it was hard. He sat back down. He was only wearing his hat and boots now. I couldn't re‐ sist, I had to touch him again. I just rubbed my hands on his chest and thighs and arms. They were hairy all over, and warm. He was just grunting a bit and looking at me. He asked, "Do you want more Santa smell, boy?" I don't know why, but I fell to my knees and looked up to him when I said, "Yes, Santa, yes, I want more Santa smell." I grabbed one of Santa's boots and held it against me. Santa patted me on the head with a smile and said, "Good boy!" It was the first time he said whether I was a good boy or not! I was so happy!
Santa gently pulled me off his boot and shifted forward on the armchair; then he grabbed his massive legs from behind the knees and lifted hem up high and spread them apart. I was facing San‐ ta's asshole. There it was, round and a bit puffy, in the middle of a huge, hairy ass. Santa said in a strict, commanding voice, "Smell my ass, boy. Smell Santa's ass." I was sure I was going to regret it, but I braced myself and smelled Santa's ass. I was so surprised I almost fell down to the floor. It was like Santa's pits but only better. I couldn't resist, I started kissing San‐ ta's hole; I kissed his ass lips with my face lips. It felt good, it felt right. I rubbed my face in the hair of his crack. I had never been happier. Santa was moaning, "Such a good boy! You're such a good boy!" I was rubbing Santa's ass lips against my face cheeks. It felt so good! Santa said, "Smell Santa's ass, boy." I put my nose all over Santa's ass and smelled. It made me feel so good I was dizzy. I said, "Thank you Santa! Thank you, Santa!" And I could hear Santa was smiling again when he said, "Such a good boy!"
Then Santa said, "Now lick Santa's ass, boy! Lick!" I licked San‐ ta's ass for a very long time. In all the ways I could think of. I licked his ass up and down, I licked his hold round and round, I liked his crack up and down, and from the inside to the out‐ side. I licked the middle of his crack up and down, teasing him by skipping the hole, I rubbed my face in his spit‐covered ass hair. Santa was moaning hard, almost screaming. Then he said, "Stick your boy tongue up Santa's hole!" I did it before even re‐ alising that I was doing it, like my mind was no longer mine. I stuck by tongue up Santa's hole as deep as I could. It wasn't difficult: Santa's hole was very soft and loose, but I still didn't manage to go very deep because my tongue is not very big. Santa was moaning, "Yes, boy! Yes! Lick Santa's hole! Lick it deep!"
After I'd licked Santa some more, I wanted to go on, but my tongue and mouth were getting sore. I was resting my hands on Santa's boots, grabbing them by the side, pulling them against me so I could rub myself against them. I tried to go on licking, but I was too sore and I had to slow down. I stopped to catch my breath and Santa picked me up and kissed me. Again he rubbed his tongue all over the inside of my mouth to get as much of his own Santa taste as he could. And I felt his beard all over my face. I kissed him back, on the lips, all over his face, as well as with deep kisses. I looked at him. He was so handsome with his Santa hat! I said, "I really love you, Santa. I just... I didn't know your ass could do something like that." Santa answered, "And do you know your own ass can do great things too?" I was surprised. I said, "I don't know how my ass can do anything like what your did to me just now."
Santa held me in his big arms, got up and lay me on my back, across the armchair with my head towards his left. He was facing me. He said, "This is another thing good boys do." I immediately answered, "I'll do it, Santa! I'll do it for you! I want to be a good boy for you, Santa!" Santa smiled, and gently pushed my legs apart. He caressed my cheek with his right hand, then he slowly started pushing my mouth open with his thumb. After a moment, I found myself sucking on Santa's thumb as if it were mine. Then he took his thumb out and put his second finger in. Each of his fin‐ gers were extremely much thicker than my penis, for example. But then again, Santa was huge all over. His penis was now hard and pointing straight up and it was much thicker than my arm.
Santa made me suck his finger for a while, taking it in and out. While he was doing that, he was looking deep in my eyes. I was looking deep in his. They were beautiful, dark with big, bushy eyebrows, and a few wrinkles around them. I was rubbing my hand against his big belly and playing with his big nipples. Santa was mouthing the words, "You're a good boy for Santa. You're a good boy." Then he took his finger out of my mouth and pulled it far away. He was looking so deeply at me, it was like he could see inside of me. He whispered, "You're a good boy for Santa." I looked back at him with his beautiful white beard and his big hat and I said, knowing it to be true and important, "I'm a good boy for Santa." As soon as I said that, I felt Santa's finger pushing against my asshole. My asshole got a bit loose, but just a bit. Santa's finger was huge, only the tiniest tip of it got it. He turned his finger a bit inside my ass. He was still looking down at me. I was looking up at him. He again said softly, "You want to be a good boy for Santa." I repeated, "I want to be a good boy for Santa." My ass opened up a bit more and Santa's finger went a bit further in. Santa again kissed my on the lips, looking at me gravely. I felt his beard on my face and my lips. He said, "You want to do as Santa tell you, boy." I said, "I want to do what you tell me, Santa." And again, Santa's finger went a bit further in.
Then something happened. I felt like I loved Santa even more, if such a thing was possible. I screamed, "Oh Santa!" And Santa said, "You're a good boy." My ass lips closed hard on Santa's finger. Santa said, "Relax, boy." As we were staring deep at each other, Santa slowly took his finger out and licked it himself. His spit was a lot thicker than mine. I thought he was going to put his finger up my ass again and I was spreading my legs as far apart as I could. Santa said, "Patience, boy." Good boys are pa‐ tient. Santa pinched my nipples just a bit. My hole relaxed. Then Santa did something I did not expect: he took one of his boots off and then a sock. He licked his finger all over and just be‐ fore putting it up my ass, still staring at me, he put the sock over my nose and mouth. I was hit by the strongest Santa smell I'd felt yet. My ass opened wide and Santa shoved his huge finger all the way in. Then he took it out just a bit and then shoved it back in REALLY deep. Then he did that again and again. I said, "More Santa! More! I want to be more of a good boy for you!" San‐ ta smiled and asked, "Are you glad you did as Santa told you?" I said, "Yes, Santa! Yes! Don't stop, Santa!" I breathed into San‐ ta's sock as deep as I could. The feeling always got stronger.
Then something happened and I screamed. It was as if Santa's got completely inside of me, as if waves of Santa were rushing against all of my skin. And then it was gone. Santa took his fin‐ ger out of me. I was panting. I smelled hard into Santa's sock again. Santa kissed me. I rubbed my face in his beard. I said, "Thank you Santa! Thank you!" But I wanted to do more. I asked, "Santa, is there anything I can do for you? Anything?" And Santa looked at me again and said in his deep voice, "You remember when you licked my finger earlier? I would really like it if you could do the same for this." While he said the last part, he was look‐ ing down at his huge dick.
I jumped onto Santa's dick. It hardly fit in my mouth. I tried to suck it, but I licked instead. I could get the head in my mouth, and I turned my tongue around it. I even poked his piss slit in my tongue. Santa's dick had a bit of the Santa smell, but not as much as Santa's ass or his sock. After just a bit of me trying to suck Santa's dick, he lifted me up, he sat back on the armchair and lay me down with my head near his dick and my ass towards his face. Santa started licking my ass while I tried to suck his dick. My own dick was pretty hard, and I rubbed it against San‐ ta's belly. I rubbed my whole body against Santa's belly. It was warm and soft and huge and round and hairy all over. I rubbed my face in the hair just above Santa's dick and smelled it too. Sometimes I heard Santa say, "Such a good boy. Such a good boy for Santa!"
Then Santa held my head back and said, "Now, boy, you have a choice. You can get something from Santa that only the really, really, really good boys can get. Only the boys that Santa likes the most. It'll come out of Santa's dick and you'll have to swal‐ low it very fast. If you do, part of Santa will be in you for a long time. Do you want to do that, boy?" I answered, "Yes, Santa! I want it! I want you in me that way! I want to be a good boy for you, Santa!" And I went on licking Santa's dick as hard and as long as I could. Then I heard Santa grunt very loudly and I stuck my lips on Santa's dick. And it came. It was thick and warm and I swallowed it. It came coming and coming. Santa screamed when it did. I thought it hurt Santa, but he said, "Yes! Yes!" so I fig‐ ured it didn't. When it was done, I licked Santa's dick clean. I was getting a it softer, but just a bit.
Santa got me back on his lap, like at the beginning. We kissed, deep and long. I passed my hand through his chest hair. It was wet with Santa sweat. His nipples were all hard. I licked one of them. Santa said, "You're such a good boy! Such a good boy!" He started playing with my nipples and added, "Boy, you're so good and you made Santa so happy that I will grant you one wish. Any‐ thing you want, if Santa can get it to you, he will."
I thought hard, and then I blushed. Santa looked worried. "Tell me, boy. If I can get it to you, I will. If not, you'll get to pick something else." I mumbled, "Santa, my wish is to lick your ass again." Santa gave a huge, wide, smiled, that made the lines around his eyes all go up. He kissed me hard, pushing my face against his. I jumped off the armchair. Santa put his boot back on, and lifted his knees up and apart like before. There was his hole again. Right in front of me. This time, I licked Santa's ass slowly. I pushed my tongue in his hole as deep as could as often as I could. I kissed Santa's ass. I loved Santa's ass so much! I rubbed his hole with my face cheeks. Sometimes, I just pulled off a bit to stare at his hole, and felt how much I loved it. It was to beautiful! When I got sore again I climbed up to Santa. He kissed me one last time, licking the inside of my mouth to get a bit of Santa smell. He put his trousers back on and his coat. He had never taken off his hat. He took the list from the table where he'd left it, and he picked up his bag. I turned around to grab my pyjamas that had fallen on floor. When I turned back he was gone. But I never forgot him. And I knew that for some time, I would still have a bit of him inside me. And I never stopped believing in him.
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