Chapter 1

It was Christmas Eve and Tommy figured he was done for the night. His mom was already in bed and surely asleep. His little brother and sister were in their beds, either asleep, or waiting for Santa to arrive. And Tommy’s dad would soon come home from work, put on his Santa suit and place various presents under the tree, which the younger children would think had come from Santa.

Tommy’s dad had done the same thing since he was young. Sometimes the younger children woke up and came downstairs while the presents were being put under the tree. If they did, Dad would be wearing the Santa suit, which would provide the appropriate cover. If the children didn’t wake up it wasn’t a problem because Dad enjoyed dressing up as Santa every year anyway.

Although Tommy was definitely too old to believe in Santa, he appreciated the pretense for his younger siblings. He expected he would hear his dad arrive shortly. Dad would then go into the basement, get his suit from its hiding place, put it on and bring up the gifts. Instead, Tommy’s phone rang.

“Tommy, I need your help,” Gerald said.

“What it is, Dad?” Tommy replied.

“I’m still at work and I don’t know when I’ll be done. Lots of emergencies tonight.”

“OK, Dad. Well, what do you need my help with?”

“I hate to ask, but I need you to get the Santa suit, put it on and put the kids’ Santa gifts under the tree.”

Tommy was less than thrilled.

“Seriously, Dad? I’m already in bed and pretty much ready to go to sleep. Do the presents really need to come from ‘Santa’ again?”

“Yes, your brother and sister still believe in Santa. If they come downstairs during the night and see the presents aren’t there, they’ll know something isn’t right.”

“Well, I’ll just go get the Santa presents and put them under the tree. I don’t have to put on the stupid suit.”

“You know perfectly well they might come down, just like you used to when you were their age. If they do, they need to see Santa laying out the presents.”

“Dad, if they see me in the suit, they’ll know it’s not really Santa.”

“Tommy, you’re built almost the same as me now. They would never know the difference. Come on, I did this for you for years. Please help me out and do it for them.”

“OK, Dad, you’re right. Sorry to be grumpy. I’ll do it.”

“I understand, Buddy. And thank you so much, this is a big help.”

“No problem, Dad. See you in the morning.”

“Thanks again, Son!”

Reluctantly, Tommy dragged himself out of bed, went down to the basement and followed his father’s instructions. He didn’t mind as much as he was telling himself. He appreciated that his dad had worn the suit every year to make his Christmases magical, so why not do it for his siblings?

He donned the suit, took the bag with the special presents and went to the tree. He thought his siblings might make an appearance. He was ready. But they stayed asleep in their beds. It took just a few minutes to distribute the packages and Tommy was done. He quietly climbed the stairs and headed to his room. He figured he could stow the suit under his bed and put it away the next day. He peered into the kids’ rooms and saw they were both fast asleep. He closed their doors quietly and headed to his own room.

When Tommy passed his parents’ room, he expected to hear his mother snoring. She always went to bed early, even on Christmas Eve. Everyone knew she could rarely stay up late for any reason. But there was no snoring. And the door to the room was ajar. Simply out of curiosity, Tommy stopped at the door and listened to see if his mother was making her usual sleep sounds. But she wasn’t snoring at all.

“Santa,” Tommy heard his mother say from her room.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. “Why isn’t she sleeping?”

“Santa,” Stephanie repeated softly, “come in here.”

Cursing himself further, Tommy pushed the door open just enough to enter his parents’ room, closing it carefully once he was inside. He would tell his mother it was him in the suit, that Dad had to work late, he would wish her Merry Christmas and go to his own room to take off the suit. But as he moved toward the bed in the mostly dark room, he bumped into what had to be his mother, a few feet away from the bed. Tommy wondered if she had fallen out of bed or something.

“Santa,” Stephanie said in what sounded like a playful tone, “I’ve been waiting for you. I have a gift for Santa.”

Tommy put his hand out to make sure he knew where his mother was, so he wouldn’t knock her over. He was about to tell her it was him, then ask her why the hell she was on the floor. But he never got the chance. His hand touched her hair at the same time that he felt his baggy Santa pants being pulled down. He smelled a waft of his mother’s perfume just as he felt warm wetness between his legs. The combo made his penis start to swell instantly.

“Did you know I’d be waiting, Santa? Oh my, you’re getting hard so fast!”

Tommy tried to regain his wits. But before he could form a clear thought, he felt the unparallelled pleasure of having his cock engulfed by a warm and eager mouth. That pleasure was so great that he momentarily forgot that the mouth belonged to his mother. But even when he made that realization, the pleasure won out. He slipped is hands into her hair and guided her all the way down on his shaft.

“Santa!” Stephanie whispered after letting what she thought was her husband’s penis slip out of her mouth. “You must have really wanted this. You’re bigger and more hard than you’ve been in a long time.”

Having his wits about him enough to know he now had to keep up the charade, Tommy could do nothing but let out a very generic grunt, which he hoped his mother would take to be his father’s noise.