Bedtime on Christmas Eve - a rotten time to be alone.

Everyone else is with their partners and families, getting into the holiday spirits, trading gifts and gossip and (best of all for an encourage like me) preparing for a full twenty four hours of gorging on rich holiday food.

I envy the men who can snuggle next to their lovers and imagine how much bigger the man next to them will be by New Years. Hell! I envy them for being able to have somebody to snuggle up to! A holiday that has such a cute fat man as its symbol is not a good time for me to feel lonely.

Gloomy as I may be, I refuse to let it stop my holiday rituals. My gifts were sent off weeks ago, the home decor was relentlessly cheerful, a stocking (to be filled by whom?) was by the fireplace in my bedroom and a thermos of milk and pile of cookies stood nearby - a tradition of childhood and a convenient breakfast for tomorrow.

Looking regretfully around me, I climbed into bed. No dream visions of sugarplums for me - damn it!

Groan...

It must be two in the morning.

I know someone is in the room. Sleepily, I force my eyes open enough to see...

And what I saw!

The room was lit by the clear moonlight, so that I could make things out very easily. There was a large figure standing by the fireplace, placing some items on my mantelpiece. Even with all my adult sensibilities, there was no need to guess who it was.

"All right," I thought, "I will simply lay here, absolutely still and watch Santa Claus leave. When I get up tomorrow I will convince myself it was all a dream."

That would have been a sensible scheme of things except for the fact that Santa was walking over to me...

"I know you're awake, Greg, so you don't have to be so still."

Sitting up, I took a good look at the man standing next to me.

Santa was handsome!

He had a resemblance to all the pictures and images of Santa that I had ever seen, but there was a difference. For one thing, the red suit that he had on, was a very form fitting outfit beneath his tight jacket. Santa's clothes were already a few gallons of milk and a barrelsful of cookies too snug. Then again, for a man who was ages old and had been running around all night, Santa looked very fresh. His smiling, happy face sported a beard that was trimmed into a very sexy goatee and mustache that just framed a sensual mouth. I know that it isn't nice to get horny for a Holiday Icon, but I was feeling very warm in the crotch as I looked at this attractive man in front of me.

"You want to be good, don't you Greg?"

I nodded, never taking my eyes off him.

"Then get out of that bed and help me down those cookies you set out for me!"

Slipping on my robe, I started walking towards the cookie plate.

Before I could get by him, Santa pulled gently at my robe and revealed my rigid erection. I began to blush as he exclaimed, "Ho, Ho, HO! You naughty man!"

Before I knew what was happening, the symbol of the holiday had put his arms around me and drew me into one of the best kisses I have ever had. It was wonderful being held by those arms, muscular from years of hauling large sacks up and down chimneys. I should have felt an awe - after all it was SANTA CLAUS - but the only thought I had after that kiss was how wonderful his bulky figure felt as I pressed against it.

Looking into Santa's eyes, I spoke.

"Not naughty, Santa, just good in another way!"

The famous holiday twinkle in the fat man's eyes was replaced by a warm look that meant another type of joy. If I had any doubts, I could feel the firm bulge in his red trousers that threatened to burst the fly.

"Just a minute Greg," Santa said as he pulled out a small radio. "OK boys, that's it for the night - get home and enjoy yourselves." Suddenly there was a light scraping noise and out of a window I could see the blur of the fast moving reindeer and sleigh as they shot off into the sky.

Santa was clearly not going anywhere very soon.

"Care for something to drink, Santa?" I asked, playing the host.

"Call me Chris, please. If you have some beer please. All those glasses of milk!" Santa, I mean, Chris rubbed his belly. "Not that I dislike milk or cookies, but somewhere along the run there gets to be a point where my gut needs something different!"

I hurried to the kitchen and pulled out a 6-pack and slapped together a sandwich. When I rushed back, I found Chris stretched out on my bed, the empty cookie plate by his side.

"Sorry Greg, but force of habit," He belched, indicating the last few crumbs on the plate.

"Well, let me make you a bit more comfortable," I said, grabbing one of his shiny leather boots and tugged it free. Chris smiled happily as he wiggled the toes of his free foot. After the boots and winter socks, I struggled with the tight buckles of his jacket.

"Chris," I grunted, "you are just one cookie short of bursting out of this coat." That was a silly thing to say, because Chris began to laugh, his shaking middle ("a bowl full of jelly") making it even harder for me to undo the fastenings. Finally, though, Chris was out of his coat and from the mass of his paunch I could see what an overdose of Christmas snacks can do. The red shirt was stretched tight as a drumskin over his upper body, giving a clear outline of his generously proportioned chest and the marvelous belly that rose out and became a steep dome, curving down into the straining trousers.

I wanted to climb on top of him and rip off that outfit.

Santa seemed to read my mind because he gently held my hand and says, "wait a minute Greg, I have a better way to get out of this stuff." He reached to the night table where I left the beers and put a can into my hand.

"Now shake that can and aim it for my mouth!"

Obeying, I pressed the opened can of beer can to his mouth. The sudsy liquid spurted down his throat.

Maybe it really was the foamy beer - or perhaps Chris did a little bit o' holiday magic to give me a thrill - but with each swallow, the hot, tightly clad body got fatter and fatter. Deep wrinkles began to form on his shirt as the buttons fought to hold back the overgrown paunch. His warm skin began to show through the widening football shaped slits of the shirtfront. A rounding of belly pushed its way out of the bottom of the now untucked shirt. The fabric of his pants stretched as the increasingly bulging thighs filled them to tights-like smoothness.

Of course, the fatter the stud in front of me got, the more excited I became. My dick throbbed as each button popped off his shirt, revealing more and more of his sexy physique. By the time his waistband snapped and I watched his belly surge forward in freedom, I couldn't wait it any longer.

Chris suddenly found himself being romanced by a half crazed sex maniac. and from his "HO HO HO," I could tell that he loved it. I wanted to lose myself in his beautiful expanse, kiss his full lips, nibble the tits that were pressing out as they were released from the opened shirt, rub against the belly so that it slid back and forth with me. Soon, after I finished romancing every inch of that magnificent body, I pushed back the round mass of belly and lowered my head in between the massive thighs. Releasing his paunch, I felt it rest down on top of my head pressing it down so that I was surrounded by the tremendous fleshy cushion of my fat man's gut and thighs. In front of my mouth was Chris' endowment - and very impressive it was, a thick, short pole of a cock above the double round of his large balls. I gently began to flick it with my tongue...

Soon I had Chris moaning and laughing happily as I serviced him. I massaged him and worked his pole-hard erection and brought him closer and closer to coming. As I did, I began to notice a pressure on top of me and around me.

Chris was getting even fatter! Seeing what would happen, I started to bring him close and then calm him down just a small amount. Sure enough every time he approached climax, his fat would increase and I was getting wrapped up in the growing cocoon of his flab.

"HO! HO!!! HOOOO!!!!!!"

With that final long "HO!," Chris shook himself with pleasure and collapsed my bed with his now tremendous heft. Below his gut, I barely felt the fall, face to face as I was with the result of my blow-job.

It was as if I had brought Niagara Falls to ejaculation as the flow of creme blasted out in a long unceasing stream.

And it was GOOD!

Getting up I looked into Chris, smiling face.

"Your dangerous, stud," he said with a wink, "every minute we are together, I just get fatter."

I crawled over his wide middle and reaching his face, kissed his fleshy, delicious mouth.

"FUCK ME FATTER, GREG!" Chris ordered, "FUCK ME SO THAT I'M TOO FAT TO MOVE!"

I obeyed without question!

When I had finally fallen asleep, it was in the arms of a man who, fat as he had been when he came in, had become truly gigantic! Chris' belly now hung past his knees, covering the massive, yet powerful thighs. Any neck he had was long hidden by the thick beefy shoulders. His pecs were round suckable bags of plumpness that rested at the upper part of his sexy gut. When he rolled over, I found myself plunging into the massive, sensual well of pleasure that was his ass. Those times he service me, it was as if Chris was actually engulfing me with his voluptuous hugeness Any average man would have been beyond mobility at half of Chris' gain, but the man who could fit down narrow chimneys at 300 plus pounds, could get as fat as he liked. We had spent hours having fantastic sex as he inflamed me more and more with his demands to fatten him up even further, only stopping as the sun began to stream in the windows. My bedroom had been thoroughly trashed by all the things we tried, and the foods that I fed him (practically emptying my kitchen) but I couldn't care - I was with a gorgeous fat hunk of a man and living out my fantasy to its fullest.

The sun was high up in the sky, when I woke up that afternoon. I wasn't sure I really wanted to wake up, thinking about the mess that would have to be cleaned and food I'd have to buy, but the feeling of the man I was sleeping next to...

He was gone!

I quickly got up and looked at the site of my orgy.

My bedroom was spotless, the bed unbroken.

"CHRIS?!?!" I shouted.

The silence in response to my shout was horrible.

I ran through the apartment checking out things I had moved or taken throughout the night.

Everything was in order, the kitchen was stocked and I was a wreck.

Finally I said that horrible phrase:

"It was all a dream!"

Back in my bedroom, I stared at the well ordered room. It was time to convince myself that last night had never happened.

I walked over to the chimney, the better to point out to myself the futility of a fat man entering my home in that method.

One of my holiday stocking had something sticking out of it.

Now I hadn't filled it!

Carefully, as if it might disappear, I pulled out an envelope - a holiday green envelope.

A note was inside and as I opened it, a ticket fluttered to the floor.

"Dear Stud,

Sorry I had to slip away, but I had to get back to make arrangements for New Year's and after. I hope that my helpers put everything back the way it was before we got together (by the way, they also think you are HOT).

Now Greg, inside this note, you will find a plane ticket for a one way trip to my favorite vacation place. I will be there, horny and ready for a hot time with a 'good naughty boy.' Certainly you won't be a 'bad naughty boy' and stand me up at New Years Eve?

It may sound hasty and unreal, but I know that I need you with me and I want to have you fatten me up over and over again. What that means is beyond even a Santa Claus to foretell, but I know it will be wonderful.

With Love and Christmas Cheer,

Chris."

I smile as I pick up the ticket. FIRST CLASS! I know WE will be wonderful, my dear Chris!