Page 20 of Sexted By Santa
I dropped my head back on the pillow. It seemed as if I were destined to play Santa in all aspects of my life. But even I had to admit it had served as a pretty good ice-breaker with CasualDad. His easy teasing made me smile.
Maybe I can keep the name if it means you chat with me again,I typed.
He was quick to reply:Maybe I’ll chat with you again if you send me some sexy Santa pics.
Oh, hell no. Volunteering as Santa was bad enough. But posing for X-rated Santa selfies wasn’t happening. I sent him a reply, then turned off my phone before I could be tempted into embarrassing myself.
Listen, I’m just not that kind of Santa. I don’t rush down anyone’s chimney. But I do hope we can chat again…
When I woke the next morning, the first thing I did was check the Thrust app for his reply.
Hahaha, okay, Santa. We’ll play it your way. Message me again when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.
6
JAXSON
My flirty Santa was online again.
I rarely used the Thrust app to hook up—not when I wasn’t comfortable leaving Tori any more than I had to—but chatting online was a good distraction.
My usual work schedule, 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., mirrored Tori’s school hours fairly closely. When I wasn’t working, I was cooking or doing laundry or helping Tori with an art project, because shelovedcrafting. Our throw rugs and furniture all sparkled, and I’d given up trying to eradicate the signs of glitter all over our home; it was simply an added aesthetic at this point.
It was only in the quiet hours after Tori went to bed that I felt how alone I was. That’s when I pulled out the app. Sometimes I just scrolled through names and profiles aimlessly. Sometimes, I let a guy chat me up, even though I knew it would probably go nowhere. For a few minutes, I shared a connection with someone—even a shallow, sex-driven connection—and felt a little less alone.
I’d already talked more with Santa than anyone else though. And I found myself checking my phone, hoping for another message, each time I had a spare minute to myself. On my breaks at work. When Tori was engrossed in a TV show. Right before I went to bed, and as soon as I woke up in the morning.
Sometimes, we had a lengthy conversation; sometimes, we exchanged just a line or two. I texted him the picture of the cake Tori and I had made. Then one of her cutest reindeer. After he’d stressed how much he hated ChristmasandSanta, it’d been too easy to tease him. He responded with pictures of holiday disasters he found. A large evergreen Christmas tree busting through a window. Presents scratched to shreds by a naughty cat. A meme of Ralphie fromA Christmas Storyafter getting his glasses broken by an icicle on Christmas Day.
Every day, he threatened to change his user name—and I implored him to send me some naughty Santa pics. He continued to hold out. Maybe he wasn’t much of a looker or was insecure about his body. I didn’t really care, either way. I hadn’t had so much fun in a long time.
Tori was already in bed for the night, so I sent him a new message.
Still no pics for me?
SantaWantsYourChimney:Well…
CasualDad:What?! Don’t tease me. I’ve been trying to imagine you in my head at night. Pics would help.
SantaWantsYourChimney:Fantasizing about me, are you? Maybe I shouldn’t ruin the illusion with my real image.
CasualDad:Please do. I have a terrible imagination. I need to see the real thing…
SantaWantsYourChimney:I did take some photos. With the Santa outfit, like you asked. But I’m not sure if I should send them. I feel silly.
CasualDad:Maybe I like silly.
Santa:Good thing. I can’t believe you talked me into this. Damn. Okay. If you disappear on me I’ll know why.
There was a delay, but I could see he was working on a message. I held my breath as I waited.
A pic came through, followed by a second one.
I exhaled hard. “Holy shit.”
In one photo, a man wore a Santa coat draped over one shoulder. I couldn’t see his face, but his body—from neck to waist—was bare. He was slim, with just a smattering of chest hair, but looked fit.
I scrolled to the second pic. Still no face, but this photo was a little more risqué. He was naked with only a Santa hat held in front of his dick. I could see the sharp jut of his narrow hips, the dark hair on his arms, the veins standing out on his hands.
