Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter by Edited by Selena Kitt

Open sign, believe me. I don’t relish another stop at Wal-Mart tonight. Too many
people, to be honest, and the coffee’s not all that great, either. Patrick?”
    “This is so cool,” I sighed. My body went through the motions of pouring
the coffee without much help from my brain—I couldn’t stop staring at
Santa. Chris as Santa , I corrected, but the thought wouldn’t stay in
place. As I brought the coffee out to him, Santa sat down at one of the tables
and leaned back, eyes shut, savoring the quiet and stillness of the moment. I
set the coffee down in front of him and stood there, unsure of what to do. My
blood raced with sudden lust—it was the Santa suit, definitely, and the
fact that going down on a childhood icon was so inherently wrong that I
could’ve come just thinking about it. It was one thing to say yeah, I
think Santa’s sexy, but it was another altogether to be standing here in front
of him, my chances slipping away with each sip he took of his coffee. When he
was finished the drink, then what? He took off the beard and became Chris
again? I didn’t want that to happen, didn’t want the moment to end, but I stood
like a little kid terrified in Santa’s presence now that it was finally my turn
to tell him what I wanted.
    Before I could think of anything to say or do, Santa opened his eyes and
saw me still beside him. In a gravelly voice, he said, “It’s been quite a long
time since you last sat on my knee.”
    I almost creamed myself at the thought of snuggling into his lap. My
voice sounded distant to my own ears when I replied, “I’ve grown up a bit since
then.” But when he held out his hand, I took it and let him pull me down to
sit.
    His strong arm circled my waist. This close, it was impossible to look
into his face, so I stared at the buttons on his coat instead, my fingers finding
them among the fur as my hand trailed down Santa’s ample belly. When I reached
his belt, I plucked at the buckle and tried to talk myself into going lower. I
wanted to, God I wanted to, I wanted to go down on this man as if to
thank him personally for all the gifts I’ve ever gotten over the years. I
wanted to find the zipper on his bright red pants, ease it down to expose his
thick cock, and take him as far into my mouth as he could go. I wanted to taste
him in the back of my throat, to feel him trickling into me, to have his large
hands on me as I drank him in. As I stared at my hand on his belt, so close, so close , he whispered, “I know what you’re thinking, Patrick.”
    Oh Jesus . The guilty look on my face made him laugh—not the
affected ‘Ho, ho, ho’ of the mall Santas but a deep, belly-shaking chuckle that
I felt in my bones. “You’re thinking that you’ve outgrown the holiday, isn’t
that right?” Relieved, I tried to shake my head and nod at the same time, and
my hand slipped to the bottom of his belt buckle. Closer now. The arm around my
waist tightened. “You’re never too old for Christmas, Patrick. Remember that.
The season of giving lives within you all year long.”
    My hand slipped again, my fingers finding the outline of Santa’s dick in
his pillowy crotch. “I have a little present for you,” I told him. His eyes
went wide and I smiled as the cock in my hand moved beneath my touch. “A little
thank you for all the things you’ve ever brought me. Like that bike, when I was
twelve? And the Nintendo before that? All those G.I. Joes?” I watched him
closely, the fear in his face relaxing as I stroked him through his pants. When
he thrust into my hand, I knew I had him. I kissed his cheek—powdery and
soft— makeup , I thought, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to
believe it. I wasn’t quite ready to give up this magical moment. Santa thrust
against me again, hard and eager now, and I slid off his lap into the space
between his knees.
    I found his zipper, tugged it down, and the full length of his shaft
swung into my face. Sticking out my tongue, I licked the tip