Santa's Present

SANTA’S PRESENT

By Mighty Mouth

            Hello. I’m Bobby.  Until a few months ago I lived alone. Then Richard moved in (see my series, “College Buddy’s Son” on Gay Demon).

            I am writing this a bit after Christmas, and I apologize. I have always believed in Santa Claus. When I reached the age when most kids discover the truth, I refused to believe it. Boys kidded me about it, but I held fast in my belief. I even have a Santa collection in my apartment. 

            Richard had gone to spend the holidays with his family, and I have no close relatives in my city. Thus I usually spend Xmas alone except for my friend Fred, who has had Christmas dinner with me for many years.

            I didn’t want to overdue it, so I prepared some slices of turkey breast in a Madeira sauce, Brussels sprouts in a cheddar cheese sauce, and Rosti potatoes. Of course I served a great bottle of California wine.

            Promptly at noon, Fred arrived.  He noticed a photo of a nude guy on my coffee table and picked it up.

            “Who the hell is this guy” he asked, astonished. “You never mentioned him to me before. And it’s dated December 25, 2016.  So he’s been here this morning, but how come the photo has a date on it already?”

            “Well, it’s a long story. And you are not going to believe it, even though you have known me since we were adolescents.”

            “So try me,” he urged.

            And so I began my unbelievable tale. “You know I always close the door between my living room and bedroom when I sleep. Somehow it makes me feel more comfortable.”

            “Yes, I know that.”

            “I got up at 6 a.m., the same as everyday, and when I opened the door, I almost shit a brick.”

            “Why?”

            “Well you saw his picture. He was sitting on my sofa and he was completely nude, with no clothes lying around. He looked to be about 19 and had dusty blond hair, and a beautiful muscular body, with a nice size prick. Pretending to be angry, I shouted at him, ‘How the hell did you get in here. My door is locked, and I don’t know you. You certainly don’t have a key.’”

            He replied calmly, “I don’t need a key. I can go wherever I want with no problem."

            I said, “I must really still be dreaming.”

            “No you’re not, and I can prove it,”came his reply.

            “How so?”

            “Point to an area of your back that you can’t reach.  I’ll draw my picture there, so you can see it in the mirror, and show it to others.” And so he did.

            I pulled up my t-shirt and showed Fred the drawing on my back. “You know that I can’t draw a stick man, much less this level of sophistication.”

            Fred was astonished. “So he really was here, that I can see. But you must be lying to me about how he got in and that fact that he was not wearing clothes.”

            “I swear to you, Fred, on a stack of bibles that I am not lying.”

            I asked the kid, “who are you?”

            “I’m your present from Santa,”

            I almost yelled, “stop this bullshit. What is your name?”

            “It’s Santa,” he replied.

            At this point in my story Fred exclaimed, “You’re too obsessed with your Santa beliefs. I think it’s time you saw a shrink.”

            “Well, Fred, that may be. But let me continue with what he said.”

            Santa bragged, “I know when you are bad and when you are good. And you’ve been bad all year.”

            Mystified, I answered, “Hey I’m just an ordinary guy. I work hard, pay my bills on time and don’t mistreat anybody.”

            “Yes, I know that, but you were bad because you sucked so many cocks all year. But on the plus side, because I know that you are very good at it, I have brought myself as your present.  I know you wanted a present like me for Christmas.”

            I was dumbfounded. But first I decided to ask questions that I have always wanted answers to, but never got. “Do you really live at the North Pole? Where are your reindeer? Why aren’t you still delivering presents? Is there really a Mrs. Santa? How many elves do you have, and are they all married and have families?”

            Santa replied, “Well you sure as hell ask a lot of questions. No, I don’t live at the North Pole. It’s a secret location. That’s because we don’t want some multi-billionaire to find us and try to buy me out, or some government to tax the shit out of me. And the truth is that I spend only 2 months per year there, beginning in October. The rest of the time I am sunning myself at some beach or other, and working out at the gym. The elves help me deliver the goods, all dressed as Santa. We also have several teams of deer. The elves are all gay, have sex among themselves, and stay satisfied. And some of those little buggers have really big dicks. They take turns sucking my cock. There is no Mrs. Santa, it’s just a ploy to get people to buy more at Christmas.

            I can’t say exactly how many elves work for me, since the number varies during the year. However, my executive staff consists of Alabaster Snowball, who is in charge of the list that informs me whether people like you have been misbehaving. Bushy Evergreen invented the toy-making machine that I use, and Bushy is in charge of all the toys. Pepper Minstix ensures that my workshop stays hidden, and Shinny Upatree co-founded the secret village where the workshop is hidden. Wunorse Openslae designed my sleigh, and he looks after the reindeer.”

            Then he almost scolded me by saying, “When the hell are you going to suck my dick? I know you have wanted to since you laid eyes on me. Feel free to rub your hands over my abs and any other part of me that you choose.”

            And so I did. I needn’t go into details, since you all know the routine.

            As he blasted his precious milk down my throat, between groans of pleasure, he complemented me with “Well you are as good as they say you are. Thanks.”

            With that he disappeared and left me breathless, but with the most satisfied feeling I have ever experienced after sucking a cock.

            By the time I finished relating all of this to Fred, he was in shock. He didn’t know whether to believe me, run out of my apartment, or call an ambulance.

This story is a Xmas gift to my fans, of which I know I have a few out there.  Have a great 2017.

Mighty Mouth