Page 17 of Santa Daddy, I'm Not the One

I spanked his ass again, and the air between us crackled with sexual tension. His cries of surprise and indignation echoed in my ears as my hand connected with his butt once more. The heat from his squirming body and the softness under my palm were creating a dizzying effect, making it hard for me to focus.

“Yes, Daddy,” he moaned, but he wasn’t trying to get away. He was humping my leg and rubbing against my thick erection.

“You…like that?” I rasped.

“Hurts so good. Don’t stop, please. I’ll be a good boy, Daddy. Just don’t stop.”

“How about I make it better?”

Everything inside me screamed to stop, but I ignored it. My hands shook as I peeled down the soft material of his pants, baring his pink bottom. “Oh God.”

His ass was a perfectly round peach, plush and shiny under the dim lamplight.

This time my hand cracked against bare skin that bounced on impact. The sound echoed around the room, reverberating off the walls. A shiver rolled down my spine. There was something intoxicating about seeing him laid out like this, vulnerable and completely under my control.

“Ooh.” Landon squirmed, desperately grinding his pelvis into my thighs. “More. I want to come.”

Smack. Smack.

Unable to resist, I caught his cheeks and spread them, admiring the rosy hue of his tiny hole. I tapped the pad of my finger over his entrance, and my cock strained. Using one hand to keep his cheeks apart, I tapped his hole with my finger.

Landon cried out, his body jerking. He dug his fingers into the bedspread. “Please,” he whimpered, his voice low and desperate, “Please, Daddy.”

The sound of him calling me Daddy was… exhilarating. My heart pounded in a way it hadn’t in a long time. It was pure adrenaline, raw and heady. Picking up the pace, I alternated between soft caresses and quick smacks until he was panting heavily and humping me like he was possessed.

“Good boy,” I murmured, spanking him once more before I finally gave in to his pleadings and slid a finger inside him. He gasped, his body tensing, then relaxing. He was tight, impossibly so, yet it felt like we were made for each other.

I lifted him from my lap, dumped him on the bed, spread his cheeks apart, and shoved my face between them. He climbed to his knees with his torso flush against the mattress while he stroked his dick. I licked his hole, and he let out a moan, bucking his hips against my face. I explored every bit of him with my tongue, drawing a symphony of whimpers and gasps from him.

“Daddy…” A shiver rippled through him, and he convulsed as he came hard. He was a beautiful sight, his flushed skin glistening with sweat.

Had he really come here for Twinkle Glen, or had he come for me?

6

LANDON

When I woke up, I was immediately aware of a buzzing sensation throughout my body, a lingering reminder of the unexpected intimacy I’d shared with Santa. I grimaced. Sex with Santa sounded so wrong.

“Hey, I just got my ass eaten by Santa.”

“Santa spanked me and made me come.”

I giggled.

The memory of being tossed over his shoulder made my stomach flutter. He was so big and strong. I vaguely remembered him cuddling me in his arms as I drifted off to sleep earlier, emotionally drained from my escape, the confrontation with the townspeople, and my fight with Santa.

But how long had I been asleep?

I took in my surroundings. This room was different from the guest room, warmer and more personal. The walls were a deep forest green, adorned with pictures and maps, chronicling centuries of Christmases across the world. A large desk, littered with papers and old-fashioned ink pens, sat against one wall. The bed I was in was large and comfortable, with heavy blankets that felt like clouds against my skin.

On a nearby dresser lay an assortment of old pocket watches and small carved toys, likely treasured mementos from years gone by.

Oh boy, I’m not actually believing all this is real, am I?

A creak announced Santa’s return. He stood in the doorway, as big and burly as I remembered, his rosy cheeks glinting in the soft light. Our eyes met, and a spark passed between us. His stare turned heated. Yes, he was thinking about what we’d done earlier. A powerful urge to hide under the covers overcame me, but I resisted.

Instead, I mustered up my usual bratty demeanor I’d perfected over the years to keep people away.

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