Page 31 of Santa's Wish
"Thank me when we're done, sweetness. Now it's time to move into the bedroom."
"Wait." My parents had raised me to be a gentleman who reciprocated. "Shouldn't I do the same for you?"
He laughed again, and my confused blood tried to rush back to my cock. "We have all night and many orgasms ahead of us. Don't rush it."
He took my hand and helped me to my feet. My pants sunk low on my hips. I pulled them off, along with my briefs, before following Santa into the bedroom.
He could have stripped out of his clothes with vampire speed, but he took his time. I'd missed my chance to have a personal lap dance at the club, but this was more than that. Santa seemed almost nervous as he ducked his head and looked up at me through his lashes. His thumbs slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, the last item of clothing on his body.
"Don't laugh," he said.
"Laugh?" I asked. "People see you naked all the time!"
"They don't. Not like this, anyway." He dropped the shorts.
All I saw was creamy alabaster skin over toned muscle, and a semi-erect cock framed by a landing strip of golden-brown pubic hair. "Gorgeous." I stepped closer.
"It doesn't bother you?"
"What?"
"My farmer's tan?"
His skin gradually lightened a shade or two beneath his belt line, but it didn't bother me at all. "I hate to tell you this, but your skin looks like it hasn't seen the sun in centuries, so whatever tan line you thought you had has faded."
"I can still see the difference." His smirk twisted into more of a grimace.
"Maybe you can, but all I see is beautiful skin I want to touch."
He stalked toward me and grabbed my wrist. Instead of placing my hand on his cock, he curled my hand into a fist with my index finger sticking out, and then traced my fingertip over his perceived tan line. "Right here. You don't see it? Are you colorblind?"
To show him the difference between his tan line and mine, I dragged him to the dresser mirror.
"I don't have a farmer's tan," I said. "I haven't beenin the sun since my mom got me a season pool pass when I was eleven, before I attended my first summer math camp. You don't have a tan line, either."
He frowned. "If you say so. It has faded, but I can still see it."
"Whoever made you feel bad about it was wrong. Your skin is flawless."
He studied me in the mirror, and his smirk curved into a smile. "I'll show you flawless, sweetness. But first, do you want to top or bottom, or try something else?"
I blinked. I'd never imagined Santa would let me choose. "You'd let me top you?"
He took both of my hands in his. "It's your first time, not mine. We don't have to fuck at all. Whatever you want."
I leaned into him and brushed our lips together. It surprised me that we were almost the same height. He seemed larger than life whenever I was with him. "I want to try everything," I clarified, "but tonight, I would love to feel what it's like to be inside you."
Santa grinned. "As you wish." He removed my glasses and led me to the bed. "Lie back and enjoy the show."
I'd done too much of that on the couch, but I couldn't argue, not when Santa rummaged in the pocket of his jeans for a packet of lube. He straddled my legs and kissed me until my lips ached and my staccato breaths echoed in the barely furnished room.Then, he turned around so his ass was a few inches from my face.
Despite his profession, his entrance looked small and tight. There was no way my cock was going in there.
Santa reached back and coated his rim with the lube, and then he dipped his fingers inside while he rolled his hips. He looked like sex on a stick, if that stick was his own fingers spreading him wider with each pass.
"How's the show?" he asked over his shoulder.
"I want to lick you open." I swallowed. "You know, when you're not already covered in lube."
