Now, let’s talk about his belly. This man had a belly that could rival any bowl full of jelly, and it practically hovered over his dick like a festive, fleshy snowdrift…

It all started with a man who looked like Santa Claus, and no, it’s not his fault — I went after him, fully embracing a peculiar fantasy that had been brewing since earlier this year. It was triggered by this odd guy I’d met, with a pudgy gut and a strange, hypnotic vibe that somehow lodged itself in my brain, along with all the bizarre holiday decor I’d seen at Target.

After that, my tastes took a weird detour, and I found myself actively hunting for a guy who could pass as jolly old Saint Nick. It didn’t take long — thanks to Hinge, I found him: silver hair, belly, and all. He looked like he’d been plucked straight from the North Pole, minus the sleigh (and hopefully, the reindeer).

I decided to lay down some ground rules from the start: if he was going to be my Santa, he had to commit to the role. That meant coming over with gifts — but not just any gifts. No, this wasn’t your average gift-giving; I was after something more… eclectic. I told him he’d need to lay out random presents on the bed, like a strange haul that made no sense.

The first time he brought a gift, it was a slightly bruised apple, and he didn’t just hand it to me. Oh no, he decided to really commit to the role. He walked in, cheeks flushed, holding that apple between his teeth like a red-nosed reindeer, eyes twinkling as if he had the best secret in the world. I couldn’t help but get very wet — it was ridiculous, but there he was, looking like a kinky Santa, ready to make my Christmas come early. I leaned in and took a bite right from the apple he was holding in his mouth, savoring the mix of sweetness and pure absurdity.

Now, let’s talk about his belly. This man had a belly that could rival any bowl full of jelly, and it practically hovered over his dick like a festive, fleshy snowdrift. When we were in bed, it was like an unintentional prop, adding to the whole Santa experience. I’d be down there, unwrapping him like a present, and that belly would hang over, slightly jiggling, making everything more surreal. It was like my own personal North Pole, and somehow, it just worked.

And isn’t that what we all love about Santa? The fact that he shows up, bearing gifts, making you feel like the most special person in the world. He’s the embodiment of giving, of laughter, and of pure, unfiltered joy. He’s jolly and generous, with a belly that shakes like it’s keeping a secret, and when he’s around, you can’t help but smile. I think that’s why my heart skips a beat every time my Santa shows up, arms full of whatever random delights he’s decided to surprise me with. It feels good, and it feels right. And who doesn’t want a little more of that magic in their life?

Santa, take me, then whisper all your stories in my ear. Tell me who’s been naughty, and who’s been nice this year.

Doc

P.S. Make sure to slip some coal into Peter’s stocking.