Date: Fri, 19 Dec 2008 20:07:51 -0800 (PST)
From: Gloryhole Junkie <misterghj@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE's Timmy Series: Timmy Sucks Santa Claus Part 1

Timmy Sucks Santa Claus
Part One
By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
misterghj@yahoo.com


Disclaimer:

Happy Holidays to all of my fans. And to all of "Timmy's" fans, too.

For he is one mighty popular little boy among all you men.

Why, he's so popular with my readers that I really don't think I could
leave him alone for even just ten minutes with any of you guys (and
definitely not with all of you guys).

But while you consider that thought, don't forget that "Timmy" is
fictional.

And while such things may go on in real life, "Timmy" and all of the
situations described in this special Christmas installment in the "Timmy
Series", should remain on only these pages or on your monitor screen (...or
in your head or however it is you're taking it all in) and not acted out.

Think about it, beat off to it, squirt your semen all over your keyboard as
you read, but never sexually touch a child or seek to re-enact anything in
the following 'Christmas tale'.

If you wish to move to another planet that allows such things, then please
place your orders for your SpacePort tickets now.

(The children of Planet Zongo thank you).

But until that day, stick to reading, talking to one another and beating
off either alone or as a group...OF ADULT MEN.


DO NOT repost, copy of publish this anywhere else. I cannot tell you how
annoying it is to see my stories stolen and displayed on sites which I have
never even heard of before (and half of them in non-English speaking
markets no less!).

I don't get "cash in the mail" from rogue porn sites - which are charging
you money - that steal my stories in order that they have some "content" to
then...sell to you.

(Thus completing the idiot cycle).

Please do not read the following if such themes bother you.

Please do not continue if you're not of legal age or if your stuck in a
country where freedom to "read" is impeded by law.

Copyrighted to the author. All rights reserved/2008.


If you're a dad, make Christmas a happy time for your kids. And not one
where you're recounting - in prison - that Christmas when you made your
kids eat the "eggnog" that daddies all make.

It might be hard, but you can make it go down by slipping into the bathroom
every so often and jacking out a load before putting their new bikes
together.

If you're the naughty uncle, be naughty. Just not with the kids.

Instead, find a playmate with a hairy chest on Craig's List who wants to
call you "Uncle Freddie" or some such name as you diaper him.

And if you're a pervert grandpa, try to get through these last few years of
your life without molesting anybody.

Can you do that?

Oh, do it for Santa.

(Almost forgot...) And if you're a shopping mall Santa, try not to go
free-balling in the Santa suit. Okay? Its not nice to have hundreds of
children sit on your lap to only be poked by THAT thing.

(And no. You may NOT say that its a giant candy cane in your pocket).

Wishing you merry gentlemen, my readers and "fans", a joyous holiday full
of NAUGHTY thoughts - but GOOD deeds.








Timmy Sucks Santa Claus Part One By Mr.gloryholeJUNKIE



It was getting to that time of year again for Timmy. The time when Timmy
knew that his daddy would let him suck the cocks of holiday shoppers at the
big department store again.

For it was Christmastime once again.

And as one man in a restroom had said (while he zipped up his trousers) to
his daddy the year before as they, along with several other men, watched
the cute little tyke gulp down his ejaculate, "Christmas really is for
kids, ain't it?"

Timmy recalled another man, as he pulled his own cock out for the little
guy to suck next, "I don't know about Christmas, but it sure looks like
cocks are for this kid."

As Christmas day fast approached, Timmy asked his daddy (within minutes of
his getting home from the office), when they could go to the big shopping
center so that they could see the penises of the men in winter coats.

"In winter coats?", his father asked.

"Uh ha", Timmy replied as he sat on his daddy's lap, absently-mindedly
stroking the man's cock through his slacks. "I get all lost inside of their
big coats when they have me suck on them."

Timmy's dad laughed and a hugged his little son closer. "That's because
they all want to take you home with them."

"But they can't", Timmy replied as he stroked his daddy's big cock mound
some more. "Because I live here. Right?"

"That's right", his father answered. "You're my special little guy."

"It's okay they can share me though", Timmy said.

"That's right", his father said. "Because they're not all lucky like I am
to have their own little guy who will do these things to them..."

"Honey!", Timmy's mom suddenly called out from the kitchen which was around
the corner from where Timmy and his daddy were sitting in the family room.

"Yes?", both the boy and his father shouted back in unison.

"Not you, honey", Timmy's mother replied. "The other honey."

"Aren't I your honey?", Timmy shouted back as he slowly and gently gripped
his father's bulge, feeling the man's cock grow thicker and longer within
his trousers.

"Yes. You're my honey", she answered. "You're both my honeys."

"You better go", Timmy's dad said to him. Then, glancing at his erection
which was obscenely tenting within his suit slacks, he whispered, "I don't
think I can get up just yet."

Timmy and his daddy laughed. And then Timmy jumped down off his daddy's
lap. But he stopped and turned, "I don't think I can go in there either",
the boy said as he pointed to the hard tent his own little boner made in
his beige-colored pull-up pants.

But he giggled and ran into the kitchen anyway.

When he got there, he found his mother busy trying to open a huge jar of
olives.

"Honey", she said. "I meant the other honey. The big honey. I can't get
this lid off to save all of Christmas. Go get your daddy, please."

Timmy ran back into the family room and he reached to feel his daddy's
crotch.

"Mommy needs you", he said. "She can't get a jar open."

Then, whispering he asked his daddy as he leaned in closer to the man, "Do
you think you can get up now?"

His father laughed and tousled his little guy's blonde hair.

"Not if you keep doing that", he whispered back. And they both looked at
his crotch where Timmy's hand still found itself.

The man then got out of the reclining chair. And his height loomed over the
little boy again, reminding him that he was only eight and his daddy a
whole lot older and bigger.

As his father headed to the kitchen, Timmy hopped up into the empty chair
still all cozy warm from his daddy's body, and flipped the remote back to a
channel showing nothing but holiday cartoons.

"What's up, babe?", his father asked his wife.

"This damn jar", she replied as she handed it to him. "I went to Sam's Club
and I do not know how they expect anyone to open one of these jars. I'd
need hands like an ape."

"What are you doing buying a thirty pound jar of olives anyway?", he
answered as his large hand tried to twist the cap off.

"Tuesday is the all-day holiday event at the hospital", she answered.

"That thing again?", Timmy dad replied as he banged the lid with a
knife. "Twelve hours of nothingness?"

"Its all-day nothingness", she replied. But being on the committee this
year I have to be there from start to finish. Seven to seven. And then we
help clean up."

As the lid popped open, Timmy's dad replied, "Glad to see you've putting
your medical degree to such good use."

"Well, the nurses last year said they weren't going to play maid and server
to the hospital staff. So we all have to step up to the plate this year",
his wife, a doctor answered. "But it will mean I'll be gone all day. And
when I get in at that hour, you know how I am..."

Timmy's father had an idea as he listened to his wife. She would come in
late, even from covering for some other doctor and was a tired bitch. So he
could figure on what to expect the night she had to both work and play
holiday hostess at the hospital.

Grabbing an olive and popping it into his mouth, he said, "How 'bout I take
Timmy and we do an overnighter that night?"

"An overnighter?", his wife replied as she flipped through hors d'oervre
recipes. "Three days before Christmas?"

"Sure", he replied, already thinking of all the things that he and Timmy
could do if they had a full two days and one night to play. "Not far. Just
to be out of your hair. That way, you can get in, have the house
quiet. Have the house to yourself the next day if you want to sleep in..."

"My two loud guys out of the house?", she asked. "That would be a
change. No Timmy flying out to the backyard every time he thinks he hears
the wind banging against his fort..."

"Yeah", Timmy's dad said as he went around the kitchen island and wrapped
an arm around his wife's waist. "You can sleep in, relax, not worry about
us two guys for a day...what do you think?"

"Where were you thinking of going?", she asked. "You can't go far. I mean,
no further than one over-nighter. Its Christmas so don't go
disappearing..."

"Nah", he replied. "I was even just thinking of doing the city and just
staying in town. Stay downtown maybe at the Drake."

"The Drake?", his wife scoffed. "You take me to the Drake. You don't take
our son to the Drake."

She then laughed. "Why not go up north to Santa's Village? You can stay up
in one of the hotels near there."

"What is that?", Timmy's dad replied, "Dundee?"

"I think so", she replied. "If its still there. They close down any
wholesome places for family fun, don't they?"

Timmy's daddy chuckled to himself as he thought, 'Depends on the type of
family fun we're talking about.'



The week went by like any other week preceding Christmas. Timmy and his
mommy went shopping for daddy.

And then daddy too Timmy shopping for mommy...and to let his little guy
suck on some men in the men's rooms.

They went to the local mall and found two men in a department store men's
room who were willing to let Timmy play with their penises at the urinals
while his daddy snapped some pix.

And then they went to the opposite end of the same mall and went into the
men's room at Nordstrom's.

It was located through the menswear department. And as they cut through,
Timmy's daddy noticed one and then another of the salesmen looking at them.

They each had that excited curious expression as they watched a father and
his little guy head to the men's room which they both knew to be fairly
cruisey among the better heeled men in the suburbs.

In fact they both knew that although three adult men had headed into the
men's room there, none had come out. And it had been already fifteen
minutes since the last one entered.

Timmy's daddy opened the door to the pretty restroom which was decorated
with marble, wood and a hunting motif. They were clearly in an area
specially made with male customers in mind.

At the urinals stood two men. And someone else was in one of the two
stalls.

Timmy's dad took his son's coat off of him and then told him to take the
empty stall which was right beside the urinals. He had cruised that
restroom himself a few times and so, as he held his son's little jacket, he
knew what Timmy would find inside that stall.

Timmy closed the door to his stall but knew to never lock it. He then
pulled down his pants and underpants, too, and sat on the
potty. Immediately the big, black shoe of the man in the other stall
tapped. Big, slow, tapping of his big shoe, which Timmy thought looked like
a giant black canoe.

The little boy knew what the tapping meant. It meant a man in a stall
wanted to play.

But he didn't even need to know that to know what the man wanted. Because
the metal box that held rolls of toilet paper was missing from the
partition wall between their stalls.

Timmy didn't know where it was. But all he could see to his left was a big
opening, like a window, into the man's stall.

The opening made by the missing toilet paper dispenser was easily one
square foot in size.

The man wearing a white shirt, stripped tie and maybe in his late 50s, was
sitting back luridly showing off his huge erection to the little lad.

It appeared that the man didn't care who was looking actually.

He waved his cock that looked, to Timmy, like a baseball bat. He figured
maybe the man didn't see him or didn't know he was only eight-years-old.

But the man leaned forward some, looked directly through the opening,
smiled at Timmy and then winked.

He sat back again, spreading his legs wider as he showed off his mammoth
penis to the little boy.

Through the cracks in the door jambs of the two stalls, both the man and
Timmy could see shadows of bodies looking in. Timmy looked up and down and
saw a man looking in. He looked lower and could tell the man peeping in was
masturbating.

In the other stall, the man was wagging his cock not only for Timmy but for
the two men peeping in. It was the other man who had been at the urinals
and Timmy's dad.

The man in the stall suddenly stood up and turned his body toward the
opening in the partition.

He obviously didn't care or wanted these other men see him molest a little
scamp sitting in the other stall.

"Give it to him", the man could hear one of the men whisper at him through
his door. "Let's see him try to suck that thing."

Timmy could hear the voice but it wasn't that of his daddy.

"Fuuuck", the man standing in front of Timmy's said as he then saw the huge
uncut erection of this older man enter the little boy's stall.

"He's giving it to the kid?", the man whispered to the other two men, one
of whom he didn't know was the kid's own father. "Am I seeing right?"

With that, the man who had told the man to give his cock to the boy leaned
in to peek into Timmy's stall. "Shiiiit, yeah. Fuckin' A. He's doing
it. Giving it to him..."

"What the fuuuuck", the other stranger outside the stall added. "That's
just a little kid, man."

"So fuckin' hot though", the other man whispered. He then nudged Timmy's
dad and asked, "Can you fucking believe that?" The man made some room so
that Timmy's daddy could see what the other two men were going on about.

He peeked into his son's stall and saw his little guy fondling the huge
length of this older man's erection which was hard as a rock and pointed
directly at him. His son tried but his two little hands were no match for
the size of this man's erect shaft.

It looked to Timmy's father that his son would need another four pair of
hands to grip the entire length of the stranger's penis.

But the three men all continued to peep in. And the two watching gasped as
they watched Timmy lean forward some and slurp at the huge, wide mushroom
head of the older man's cock.

"Ohmyfuckinggawd", one of the men said as he continued to jack his cock
while watching. "He put it in his fuckin' mouth!"

The other man then suddenly said to Timmy's dad, as though he were shocked
and scared - and excited as all hell, "Hey. Wait. Is that your kid?"

The men both looked at Timmy's dad as he held his young son's little
jacket.

"Yeah", he said to the two men.

"Holy fuuuuck", one of the men said as he beat off some more. "You let him
do this?"

"I don't let him do anything", Timmy's daddy replied.

The three then peeped into the stall again, to watch the older man ram his
shaft in and out of the little boy's mouth.

"Bust a nut in his mouth", one of the men whispered as he watched. "I want
to see the kid try to eat cum."

Timmy's daddy laughed as he thought of how little these men knew about his
son.

Suddenly the outer door opened and the men, including Timmy's daddy
scattered. He went to the urinals while the other two ran to the sinks.

It was one of the salesmen from the Men's Suits area.

He had sensed something was up and came in to investigate.

He was hoping he had walked in on something. He often did working in the
department situated outside that men's room.

But this time he had seen the little boy with his father go in and not come
out.

The two other men had quickly zipped up as they saw that the salesman
stepped to the other free urinal, the one beside Timmy's dad.

And although they didn't know that they could have stayed, both those men
flew out of the men's room. They'd seen the salesman's name tag and that
was enough for them.

As Timmy sat on the toilet, the older man in the next stall ejaculated. He
sat on the toilet in his own stall but had to come. He beat off and caught
all his semen in the cupped palm of his left hand.

He knew that Timmy was trying to be real quiet but kept watching real close
as the man shot his cum.

Not making a sound, the older man then reached his hand through the glory
hole and offered his semen to the little boy. He figured that the kid might
like to see a big load of what a man's balls make.

He wasn't expecting to feel a little tongue licking and lapping all his
baby-making brew out of his hand.

The man withdrew his cupped hand and looked in through the glory hole. And
sure enough, that's precisely what the little glory hole boy had been
doing. He was slurping up his semen - right out of his hand.

The man quickly put his cupped hand through the hole again and let the
little tyke finish up the big serving of obscene man-pudding.

He then pulled it back again, wiped his hand with some toilet paper and
stood up. He flushed and pulled up his suit trousers, quickly buckling up
and checking his tie and fly.

As he went to the sink to wash his hand, the older man, through one of the
mirrors could see that the two men at the urinals must, obviously, be
cruisers. They weren't pissing and weren't leaving. And the one in the suit
coat seemed to be trying to get a look at the other man's penis.

Seeing that, the older man felt relieved. But he also knew that he had just
fucked the mouth of a small boy - and had let that little slut eat his cum.

And so, like so many others, he, too flew out of there. And within fifteen
minutes, he was back to shopping with his wife, daughter and his new
grandson on the opposite end of the mall.

Seeing that the restroom was quiet, the salesman took he chances and
whispered, "Is that your kid in there?"

He wagged his hard cock at the man, trying to make it clear to Timmy's
daddy that he was interested in case the kid wanted another cock to suck
on.

"Yeah", Timmy's father whispered in return. "He is."

"Hot", the salesman said in a low, lewd tone. "Bringing him in here to get
him molest, eh?"

Timmy's dad chuckled and said, "If you want to call it that. I got a kid
who can't get enough dick. You tell me what I'm supposed to do with him."

"Keep him in there long enough to take care of this", the salesman joked as
he again showed the full length of his erection to Timmy's dad. "He can
take big ones I gather."

Timmy's father whispered back, "He's had every kind of cock in his
mouth. Go 'round to the other stall and get him to bust your nut in
mouth. You'll see."

"Oh maaaan.Yeah", the salesman muttered as he tucked his large erection
back into his suit fly. He didn't want anyone who might come in to see his
meat sticking straight out of his trousers as he made his way over to the
second stall.

He locked the stall door behind him and immediately pulled his erection out
of his trousers again. He leaned to peer through the glory hole and the
little boy was still sitting on the potty, his pants down and his feet
barely reaching the floor.

"Stick it in", the man suddenly heard Timmy's father whisper to him through
his door jamb. "Let him have it."

The salesman wasted no time since he wasn't even on an official break. He
and the other salesman on duty were both into tearoom sex and would cover
for one another on the sales floor if something of interest seemed to be
happening in the restroom within their department.

He turned his body and let his erect cock slide through the well-used glory
hole.

And his legs shook as he felt the light grasp of a child's hand on his hot
shaft.

'Holy shit', he thought to himself. 'This kid is really going to do. This
dad's go his kid being a glory hole slut and he can't be much older than
seven or eight.'

But those thoughts didn't stop the salesman. All they caused was for his
cock to grow harder and throb within the baby slut's hand. He stood there,
pressed again the metal partition wanting to give the little guy every inch
of adult cock he could offer.

Then he felt it. The unmistakable licking and lapping of a tongue at his
piss slit. The kid was slurping up his precum!

"That's it, Timmy", his father whispered to him, watching the action
through each of the stalls' door jambs. "Eat up all the nice man's precum,
son."

As the child's mouth opened and devoured his shaft, the salesman could
barely believe it was a little boy sucking him.

The kid's mouth very obviously had sucked on a lot of men's cocks
before. He was just too good. And he sucked like some of the old perverts
he knew back at the motel where he was living.

The salesman gripped the top of the partition wall, trying to make it last
but knowing he couldn't.

Not only did he have to get back to work, but knowing a small boy was
blowing him - after blowing others apparently and while his dad urged him
on was too much.

It was too much for any man. And too much for nearly every man who got a
chance to use Timmy's little mouth.

"Blow your seed into him", Timmy's father whispered as he coached the
salesman to feed his son yet another load of stranger's cum. "Just let it
go, shoot as much as you need to shoot..."


Looking through the other door jamb space, he then watched his son get a
huge mouthful of semen. It couldn't help but flood his son's mouth causing
some thick white cum to drip out and all over his little guy's chin and
down to the front of his shirt.

When he salesman was done unloading in Timmy's mouth, he exited the stall
and grinned big at the boy's daddy.

"That really your kid?", he whispered.

And Timmy's dad nodded.

"Too fuckin' perfect", the man huffed as he still seemed to be trying to
catch his breath after what he'd just experienced. "You ever let the kid
party?"

"Party?", Timmy's dad replied in a hushed voice.

"Yeah", the salesman answered. "You're here. You like to share his mouth?
Maybe with, like, a lot of men?"

"Sure", Timmy's father replied. "What you have in mind?"

"Tell ya what", he whispered to Timmy's dad. "I got to get back to the
floor. But, here, give me a call tomorrow. I think I can arrange something
if you're up to it."

The salesman took out a pen and piece of note paper from his inner suit
coat pocket and scribbled a phone number.

"I'm off tomorrow. Call me anytime after six tomorrow night", the salesman
whispered as he quickly slipped the paper to Timmy's dad.

Timmy's dad took the man's phone number and hurriedly shoved it into his
front pant's pocket.

Just then, Timmy opened his stall door. Semen was still shiny on his chin
and dark stains on his blue shirt.

The salesman couldn't resist staring at the boy. He seemed to come only
waist high to him. He caught his breath again as he looked at the cum - his
cum - all over the boy. And he knew that the rest was in the kid's belly.

As Timmy's dad instructed him to wipe off the semen at the sinks, the
salesman took the opportunity to quickly exit the men's room - not wanting
the kid to get too good at look at him, of course.



A few days passed and Timmy's father looked up "Santa's Village" in the
Yellow Pages.

"Hey hon", he shouted out to his wife who was in the kitchen decorating
cookies with Timmy. "Come're a sec, will ya?"

"What is it?", his wife asked as she entered his den. Since it was
Christmastime, she was chronically in a conspiratorial mode whenever called
into conference with her husband.

"I went to Target and got Timmy that truck", she said as she glanced over
one shoulder hoping that their son didn't trail her in to the den.

"No, not that", Timmy's father replied. "Santa's Village. It still exists."

"Oh! That's great!", his wife replied. "Then you can go with him the day we
have the hospital Christmas function. Is it still an amusement park, too?"

Reading from the Yellow Pages advertisement, Timmy's father recited, "Shop,
eat and play at Santa's Village. Sing carols and meet Santa at his North
Pole castle. Handicap parking available."

"Well, that informative", his wife sarcastically jested. "I remember going
there when I was a little girl. It had a train ride and all that..."

"It doesn't say anything about a train ride", her husband relied. "But I'll
call there tomorrow and see what it is now a days."

"Is there anywhere you and Timmy can stay the night?", his wife then
asked. "Or do you want to just come home?"

"No. No.", Timmy's dad was quick to interject. "We'll definitely spend the
night somewhere. There had to be some hotel in the Dundee area I would
think."

"Well, that's all planned then!", his wife said with some buoyancy in her
tone. "I was worried that you might get stuck having to take Timmy to the
mall again."

"No", her husband replied. "I don't think we'll hit the malls again. Timmy
got his fill the other night."

"I imagine it must have been crazy the other day", his wife said as she
stroked her husband's thick dark brown hair. "You're such a good dad. Do I
tell you that enough? You really are. I know so many men at the hospital
who don't spend any time at all with their kids." Then, kissing her
husband's forehead she added, "You're the best. I love you so much."

Timmy's dad kissed his wife on the lips as he slipped his large hand
underneath her cashmere turtleneck sweater.

"You're tits are so fuckin' hot", me muttered. "Tonight, you're going to
get fucked I think."

His wife cooed and giggled. "Ohh, I want you in me. Maybe Timmy can go to
bed a bit earlier this evening..."

"Then you're going to have to get those cookies done", her husband chuckled
as he gave his wife's left tit one more gentle stroke.

The moment she returned to finish cookies with Timmy, he got on the phone.

Looking at the note that the salesman had given him a few nights earlier,
he dialed the number on it.

"Hey", he said as a man answered. "This Bob? Yeah. We're on for
Monday. Plans still in place? Good. Real good. Oh, yeah, I'll have him
there. Don't worry. 10 a.m. sharp, we'll be there."

A couple of days later and only three days before Christmas, Timmy's
parents allowed him to sleep as they piled Christmas treats into his
mother's car.

"You have a good trip with Timmy", she said as she counted and then
recounted the number of boxes of holiday food she was bringing.

"Hey", Timmy's dad said as he watched his wife rearrange all the boxes once
again in her trunk. "You just have a good time. And a successful holiday
party. We'll be fine."

They then saw Timmy, wearing only his cartoon pajamas as he opened the door
into the garage.

"Are you leaving, mommy?", he said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yes, Tim", she replied. "I was about to come inside and say goodbye to
you."

"We won't see mommy until tomorrow night", his father said to Timmy.

"We're seeing Santa Claus today", Timmy replied as he seemed to remember to
be excited.

"I heard", his mother said as she went around her car and over to him. "You
be a good boy and listen to everything your father tells you to do these
next couple of days. You know that Santa watches everything and doesn't
like naughty boys or girls."

"I'll be good, mommy", the little blond haired boy said as he gave his
mother a big hug.

"Is Santa coming to visit the hospital?", he then asked her.

"Well, not today", his mother replied lying. One of the retired doctors
volunteered to play Santa at the hospital bash but she saw no reason to
needlessly confuse her son who was on his way to meet with Santa, too. "But
I think he's sending an elf or two today", she quickly added.

They all then said their final goodbyes, watched Timmy's mommy get into her
car and pull away from the house.

"Its too cold in here! Brrrrr!!", Timmy's father said to him.

He then gently nudged his little son back into the house as he pressed the
automatic garage door opener to go down.

"Oh, its so cold", he then repeated as they made their way into the
kitchen.

"I can warm you up, daddy", Timmy offered.

"You can? Better than a bowl of hot oatmeal?", the man replied as he looked
down at his cute son.

Timmy stepped up to his daddy and gave him a great big hug around his
middle.

No sooner had he done that than he pressed the side if his face into the
big lump at his daddy's crotch.

"You're really going to warm up daddy by doing that, son", his father said
as he held his son close.

He then stood there as his son deftly reached into the fly of his daddy's
pj bottoms. He knew his daddy wore no underwear to bed. And so with his
small hand jammed into his fly, it made it easy for the boy to gently
massage the meaty thickness of his daddy's big penis.

Timmy's dad allowed his son to explore as he stood there. He felt his cock
thickening and knew that his son would soon be suckling on it if he didn't
redirect his attention quickly.

"You sure Santa would want to see you sucking on your daddy's penis,
sweetie?", he gently asked.

"Doesn't Santa want me sucking it, daddy?", Timmy replied as he looked up
at his daddy with those sparkling blue eyes.

"Oh. I don't know", he answered his son. "We're going to go see him in an
hour..."

"Can I ask him?", Timmy asked as he pulled away and hopped up into a chair
at the kitchen table. "I know I'm not supposed to ask about it but I can
ask Santa, can't I?"

"Well, let me make you some breakfast and we'll discuss that", his father
replied as he reached for two bowls and the box of cornflakes.

"We have a long drive ahead and I want to try to be there by ten...to see
Santa", he said to his son.

"After breakfast, straight into the bath tub for you", he then added.

"But I never take a bath in the morning, daddy", Timmy replied.

"Well, this morning you are", his father said. "We want you all sparkling
clean for Santa."

After a light breakfast, Timmy's daddy drew a warm bath for his son.

Standing in the bathroom with him, he watched his eight year old pull down
his Sponge Bob pj bottoms. His son cock was a nice size for a boy his age.

He stared at it thinking of all the men who had played with it and sucked
it. By eight, his son had had more strangers fiddling with his dick and
butt hole than most men ten times his age.

He watched and they chatted as Timmy took a sudsy bath. The boy asked a
million questions about how Santa Claus lives nearby but the North Pole is
far away.

And his father answered as best he could that Santa is magical and time
doesn't mean the same thing to him. And so miles could go by in seconds
with him.

When he was done, his daddy, holding a big, fluff towel in one hand, pulled
the drain stop on the tub with his other hand and told his little guy to
stand up.

"Bend over and show daddy", his father than said in a hushed though
determined voice. "Show me your little butt hole, sweetie."

Timmy smiled and giggled because he knew that his daddy liked it when he'd
bend over and spread his little butt cheeks for "inspection".

Timmy's dad traced his large hand over both cheeks of his son's smooth,
small buttocks. They both fit into the span on only his right hand.

His son then bent over and using his own hands, spread his butt cheeks wide
open for his daddy.

And his daddy gently ran his middle right finger along his son's freshly
soaped butt crack...and then it slowly inserted itself into his son's pink
rosebud.

There was just enough soap on his son's skin to make penetration easy.

He pushed his thick finger deeper and deeper but very slowly into his son's
hole. He watched the tight, small puckering hole clamping around it.

"That's a goood boooy", he whispered as he gently finger fucked his little
guy.

"Daddy's going to push it all the way in you now", he then said. "Is that
okay, Timmy?"

And instead of words, his little whore son simply pushed himself back onto
his daddy's big finger.

"You like that, don't you?", his father nearly whispered as his own cock
raged hard where it now stuck out of the fly of his own pajamas.

"Uh ha", his son simply moaned.

Timmy's father hesitated before he asked, "Would you let Santa put his
thing up here? Not his finger but his cock?"

Timmy stood up, his daddy's finger still jammed up into his small frame as
he asked, "Would Santa want to do that?", he asked incredulously.

"He might", his father replied. "You have such a pretty little boy ass that
any man would like to put his thing up into it - even Santa."

Timmy beamed inside to know that even Santa Claus would maybe want to play
with him.

Timmy's father slowly pulled his long, thick finger out of his son's butt
hole and then gently slapped one of the little guy's baby-smooth ass
cheeks.

"Okay, champ", he said. "Its time you get dressed. We don't want to leave
Santa Claus hanging, now do we?"

Timmy giggled as he finished drying himself off. He scampered off to his
bedroom while his daddy took a shower.

Hearing the water go off a few minutes later, Timmy, wearing nothing but a
new pair of Christmas socks his mother had bought him, returned to the
bathroom.

He stood in the doorway as his slid the curtain aside, allowing his son a
full view of his dripping wet, hairy frame.

He could see his son's eyes scan all over his body and then land on his big
genitalia.

"Why aren't you dressed yet, Tim?", he asked as he blatantly let his cock
and heavy scrotum swing about as he dried himself off.

"I don't know what to wear", Timmy explained. "Mommy put out something on
my chair. Is that what I'm supposed to wear?"

Timmy's father stepped out of the shower and put the towel around his neck.

He stood at the sink as his son approached.

"What did she lay out?", he asked Timmy as he could see his small son edge
closer.

"A red vest and white shirt...", Timmy began to say. But his voice trailed
off as he began to feel his daddy's penis.

Saying nothing, Timmy's father let his boy fondle and lightly stroke his
large shaft.

"You like that, huh?", he finally said as he slapped some aftershave on
himself.

"Uh ha", Timmy replied as he leaned closer and sucked the big head of his
daddy's penis.

"Oh, don't get me started, champ", he father laughed as he pulled back
some.

"We have to get going. Its a long drive", he added, as he jokingly tapped
just a touch of aftershave on his son's left cheek.

"We can get you more of these to suck another time, son", he said as he
slapped his own big dick with a touch of aftershave, too.

Completely naked, he led his son back to his bedroom.

"This is what mommy pulled out", Timmy said, showing his daddy a little
holiday outfit of green velvet trousers, white shirt and red tie and vest.

"Santa will confuse you with a dolly in that thing", his father said. "I
think we can do better. But we'll put this in the car so if mommy comes
home she'll think you wore it."

The tall, nicely-formed man went to his son's dresser and pulled out a pair
of red sweat pants and a fleece sweatshirt that had Santa and his reindeer
embroidered onto it.

"And sneakers, Timmy", he said as he showed his son the outfit.

He then saw his son reach for a pair of underpants but stopped him.

"We'll put those in the overnight bag, too, sweetie", he said. "But none
for today. Okay?"

Timmy smiled since the only time his daddy told him that was when they were
going to have a special time together.

Within thirty minutes, they were in the car and pulling out of the
driveway.

It would be over an hour's drive to Dundee and "Santa's Village".

If that's where they had been headed.

Instead, Timmy's dad got on the highway and went south rather than north.

Timmy talked about Christmas as they drove. It was chilly as it was
wintertime but the roads were clear and the sun was out.

The drive was easy but long. They stopped once along the way. Only twenty
minutes on the road and they made a quick stop at a family-oriented oasis
plaza, they had little time to play. But it was enough time for Timmy's dad
to see that three men were looking at his son's small ass as he peed at the
short urinal. He wanted his son in sweat pants so he would pull them down.

And Timmy always pulled down his pants to his thighs when he'd pee. His
daddy taught him that way.

But as there was little time and the restroom was busy, they soon got back
on the road.

In another thirty minutes, Timmy's dad saw the exit ramp he'd been
instructed to use.

They were to the far south of the city limits in an area that could no
longer even be called the "far, far, far, south suburbs" as realtors might
try to sell it as.

Immediately when coming down the highway exit ramp, Timmy's father sensed
this was going to be good. He massaged his meat through his Dockers khakis
as he looked around and saw nothing but empty land dotted by industrial
plants.

"Santa lives here?", Timmy asked in wonder as he looked out the window.

"Only when he's in town", his father replied. "He likes to keep a low
profile."

Timmy sat and looked about some more as he did some thinking.

He then said, "He must stay here so no one can find him...because everyone
would want toys from him if they knew where he was. Right, daddy?"

"That's exactly right, son", his father replied as he reached over and ran
his hand over the top of his son's head.

Timmy's dad then had to pay attention since they truly were in what seemed
to be the middle of nowhere.

It may have been farmland at one time but clearly, by the age of some of
the factories, this had been an industrial area for at least half a
century.

There was nothing domestic about the vicinity at all.

Although they passed a small strip of a grocer's, gas station and hardware
store, there were no homes or subdivisions to see.

But there was a mix of old plants, some belching steam or smoke.

Half of them seemed empty or abandoned, too, though.

It was Christmas week and the economy stunk. That was the only reason
Timmy's dad could think a cause for the area to seem so particularly
desolate at 9:45 in the morning.

He then saw the intersection he was told to pay close attention for. It was
a crossroads of not much. On one corner was a generic-looking warehouse
building.

And on another corner was a large, clearly empty building with commercial
"FOR SALE" signs in every window.

That was where he'd been instructed to turn though.

And the road they found themselves on, although a paved county road, was as
desolate as anything found in a desert out west.

"'Drive two miles down road...then down gravel road 1500 feet'", Timmy's
dad thought to himself as he recited the directions in his head.

"Santa sure doesn't want to be found", Timmy said in all his innocence as
he looked at the nothingness surrounding them.

Further down the road, Timmy's dad could see the place.

"Anderson Family Motel. Truck parking available" read the sign in front of
a very modest, if not somewhat run down two story motel that looked like
something built in the post-War 40s.

The front of the building displayed a non-descript sign that read "Office"
and beside it, another sign which read, "Dick's Grill and Cantina".

Nothing else was anywhere around this place.

Across the street from it was another half dilapidated building that may
have once been a small manufacturing building.

Timmy's dad pulled into the smaller parking lot outside the office of the
motel.

Together they got out of the car and went inside.

No one was around even after Timmy's dad repeated, "Hello? Hello?" several
times.

As he was about to step around the counter, a man came in the front door.

He seemed as though he'd been running a bit. He was a tall, large man
wearing only jeans and a flannel shirt.

He rubbed his hands, as to warm them, while saying, "Hi there! I was out
back cleaning one of the rooms. Sorry for the wait."

"Hi", Timmy's father said to the man. "We have a reserv..."

But before he complete his sentence, the man, now at the computer said,
"Oh, yes. I know. Single room, one king bed."

"Yes," Timmy's dad replied.

"You know", the man said. "We have a bigger room. It might work for you and
this charmer here." He then winked at Timmy who blushed with a smile.

It's adjoining to another room but it's upstairs and had two king
beds...and its own kitchenette. All the rooms up there have a mini
kitchen."

"If you think that would be better", Timmy's dad said.

"I'll even charge you the same rate as the other room", the man said as he
typed something into the computer.

"One night?", the man then asked.

"Yeah. Just the one night", Timmy's father answered.

"We're here to see Santa Claus", Timmy chimed in with a big smile.

"Oh? You are, are you?", the man replied as he gave his father a wink.

Well, Santa's been here for days now", the man continued. "I checked him in
myself. And I have a feeling he'll be real happy to meet you."

Timmy smiled as his father pulled out his wallet.

"Oh", the man said, "That will be Twenty-six dollars - even."

Timmy's father paid the man in cash as he realized that he hadn't had to
sign anything.

"Now by law", the man said as he put the cash in his drawer register, "I
must inform you that we are designated as what some might call a 'Molester
Motel'."

The man clearly waited to see the reaction Timmy's father's face before
continuing.

"That means we are home to men who are convicted of sex crimes. In the case
of our particular motel, those with us are all registered pedophiles."

"Well, I suppose people need to live somewhere", Timmy's father replied as
he put his wallet away.

"Exactly", the man answered. "They need a roof over their heads like anyone
else. And they have a permanent address which makes their finding
employment a little easier. By law though, I must inform you of that. But
they're assigned rooms only on the second floor. All lower level rooms
normally are reserved for any other guests we may have. But I gave you a
room up there since its bigger."

"That's fine", Timmy's father said.

"Good", the man replied. "You would be surprised by the people who don't
want to stay once they're informed of that. But we have sixty-two rooms
here and only twenty-eight of them are occupied by our long-term guests."

The man then handed the key to Timmy's dad. "You'll be in Room 202. It's on
the second floor, this side", he said as he gestured around and toward the
back of the building. "Park anywhere since that side of the motel is
otherwise unoccupied at the moment. The long-term guests, if they have one,
leave their vehicles parked on the opposite side of the building. There is
coin operated laundry here", the man continued as he pointed to a room on
Xeroxed lay out of the motel. Your refreshments vending machines and ice
are here. And there's our grill, right through those doors. We have serve
meals here since we're rather out of the way."

"To say the least", Timmy's father laughed.

"And although we do have a pool", the man said, directing his attention to
Timmy, "Its obviously closed since its winter...but the sauna and hot tub
are inside and open all year long. They're open twenty-four hours, too,
since all our guests keep odd hours" He then paused before adding, "Even
Santa was glad to hear that when he arrived."

"Because Santa Claus doesn't work nine to five", Timmy stated with great
authority.

As they talked, a lanky young man, in his mid twenties and wearing a goatee
and sleeve tattoos came into the office and grabbed a newspaper out of the
metal kiosk.

He stared at Timmy and stared at him some more before leaving and heading
back, obviously, to the rooms.

"We serve three meals a day at the grill", the man then said to Timmy's
dad. "Its all very casual though. Come in anytime and we'll whip something
up. As I said, most of our regular guests keep odd hours. And they all have
a room like yours. Smaller but with a small kitchenette."

As Timmy and his father headed to the door to leave, the man came around
the counter again.

"I have to get back to the exciting task of cleaning rooms", he said. But
it gave both Timmy and his father another good look at the man's build. He
was at least 6'4". And although partially hidden by the flannel shirt hang
out, he seemed to have something big behind the zipper of his jeans.

The man passed the two and dashed back to somewhere behind the office
building.

Timmy's dad, holding his son's hand, went outside, got in the Volvo and
drove around back to the long two-story row of rooms that ran perpendicular
to the office and Grill, forming a giant "T".

Pulling around slowly, they could see the lot was completely empty.

And as his eyes scanned the numbers on the doors, Timmy's father noticed
their room must have been the furthest away from the office.

He drove down to the very end and saw Room 102. It was the second room from
the very end. So he figured that 202 must be directly above it.

And he also could see that the sidewalk on the lower level wrapped around
the back of the building as did the upper balcony, connecting both sides of
rooms to one another. On the far end, next to room 101 was an open
stairway.

And in the middle of the long row of rooms was another stairway.

The paved lot also wrapped around to the back realized how any guests on
the other side were able to park their cars from view.

They parked in front of the stairway on the furthest end and went up
stairs.

As they did, they saw two men standing on the upper balcony. Apparently,
they must have heard or seen a car pull in and out of curiosity, came out
of their rooms to have look.

Both men looked interested in something. One was wearing dark casual
clothes but looked like anyone Timmy's daddy may have worked with. And the
other was staring and staring at Timmy and his daddy just like the tattooed
man had earlier. They were standing two rooms apart but came closer and
began to talk to one another.

Timmy's dad put the old fashioned key into the door of Room 202, which was
the second room in from the end.

When they opened it, Timmy exclaimed, "Daddy! Santa Claus IS here!!!"

On both beds were a bunch of fully wrapped Christmas presents.

As his son jumped onto a bed among all the wrapped presents, Timmy's
father's eye scanned the rest of the room. Large television, even a VCR and
DVD combination player. The kitchenette was more than functional. He'd been
in some corporate hotels without as nice a set up. Of course those hotels
didn't have cheap towels and prints of generic sunsets, but they also
aren't just twenty-five bucks a night.

He then quickly noticed that the room adjoined to not one, but two
different rooms.

As if reading his mind, Timmy went to one of the doors and jiggled its
knob. "Where does this go to, daddy?", he asked innocently.

"Don't open that", he replied. "That's go to someone else's room. Just like
this other door on this side does.", he added as he nodded to the other
plain, locked door.

He then changed the focus back to the presents on their bed.

"My gosh. Who are all those for?", he asked his son.

Timmy looked at a colorful gift bag and read the tag, "To Timmy from one of
Santa's helpers".

He then grabbed another small bag and it read, "To a wonderful kid. Merry
Christmas, Timmy!"

And then he looked at a huge box and read its tag, "To Timmy from a bunch
of us elves here at the North Pole (some of us more northerly pointing than
others)".

Picking up another package, Timmy's father said, "Hey. This one is for the
both of us. 'To Timmy and the man who made him. From Elf Charlie and Elf
Vince."

"To Timmy, the best little boy anywhere...", Timmy read from another gift
tag. "... FROM SANTA CLAUS!!!" He was so excited that he actually began to
jump up and down causing even his father to have to smile.

"Daddy!!!", Timmy exclaimed. "How did Santa know I'd be here!!??"

"Because he's Santa, sweetheart", his father replied. "He knows everything
about little boys and is always watching them."

"Oh! Can I open them, daddy?", Timmy asked he looked over the twenty or so
gifts all made out to him from various elves, Santa himself and from his
reindeers Cupid, Vixen and even Rudolph!

As he listened, his father saw a note on the desk next to the television
set.

It read, "DO NOT OPEN PRESENTS UNTIL WE CAN ALL BE THERE!"

And it was signed "Norman".

That was the name of the salesman from the department store.  And as he
admitted on the phone to Timmy's daddy, a resident of the Anderson Motel,
second floor. He admitted he had fucked his own baby son on his first
birthday. It was his present to him. After that, he fucked his son for two
more years before he mother-in-law walked in and turned him in.

His kid would be about thirteen now but in the interim he lost his job as a
nuclear scientist, served some time, got divorced and wound up living at
Anderson Motel with another twenty eight or so convicted pedophiles.

Fortunately the sales jobs were easier to get than some others. And he got
the tip on living at the motel from another pedophile he'd met in jail.

And life wasn't so bad at the motel. After all, despite the fact it was way
out in the dead economy boonies, there were its positives.

The rooms were clean. The place was packed with like-minded men. There was
always someone having "movie night" in his room, showing the filthiest
stuff he collected to all the guys.

And the sex was wild. Although not necessarily the preferred sex of the men
there.

But there was always someone blowing someone else, whether in a room or
down in the sauna.

And it was cheap. It allowed many of the men, who had better jobs, like
himself, to sock away quite a bit of money.

Timmy's daddy put the note down and said, turning to his son, "It seems
they want you to open them once they're here."

"They're HERE?" Timmy asked all perplexed.

"Sure", his father replied as he stepped up to where his son sat on the
edge of one bed. "If Santa Claus is here, you don't think he travels
without his entourage, do you?"

"His posse", Timmy asserted. "I heard that word one time on t.v.."

His father chuckled and had to agree, "Yes. I don't think Santa goes
anywhere without his peeps."

As he spoke he squeezed his crotch obscene as he stood only a few inches
from his son's face.

He groped himself like any piece of trade might when looking for a blowjob.

"You want to feel here, champ?", he then whispered to his son. "Feel daddy
up. Okay?"

Without needing any further prompting, Timmy reached out and tried his best
to wrap his little fist around the hard, long lump within his daddy's
trousers.

His father bent his legs a bit as he moaned, "Ohhh, that's it,
sweetie. Daddy loves it when you do that for him..."

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

It caused Timmy's dad to jump a bit and he quickly went to the window to
peek out.

It was some older man at their door. He was trim, about 60 and stood there
glancing about obviously waiting to see if anyone might answer.

Timmy's dad slowly opened the door and said, "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Is this where the little guy is?", the man asked with a friendly, almost
grandfather smile.

"If you mean my son, yes", Timmy's dad replied.

"Oh, well", the older man said as he pulled a large envelope out of his
back jeans pocket. "Could you give him this and say it's from Papa Smurf."

Timmy's dad took the large greeting card-sized envelope and thanked the man
saying, "I'll give it to Timmy. Thank you very much."

He closed the door and turned to his young son who was still busy looking
through all the packages sitting on the bedspreads.

"This is for you, champ", his daddy said. "Obviously, everyone in Santa's
posse knows you're here."

"What is it daddy?", Timmy asked as he ran to his father's side.

"It's seems to be a card", his father said, handing it to his son. "But it
seems too thick for just that."

"Can I open it?", Timmy asked as he felt the thickness of the envelope.

"Well", his father replied. "Maybe just this...but none of the
presents. And only because the man didn't say not to open it until later."

Without even waiting for his father to finish his sentence, Timmy ripped at
the big red envelop.

Inside was a festive-colored Christmas card with a Nativity scene on its
cover.

"And there was great ant...ic...i...pa...tion amongst the shep...herds",
Timmy tried hard to read aloud as he looked at the white glittery print on
the picture. He then opened it and another smaller white envelope fell out.

As Timmy went to get it off the floor, he handed the card off to his father
who read the inside, "For unto them the child has come."

"DADDY!", Timmy nearly screamed. In his hand was a wad of money made up of
several dollar bills.

"What...?", his father asked as he took the white envelope which held the
cash out of Timmy's hand.

Reading the handwriting on the outside, his father said, "A dollar from
everyone who will be at the party today. Consider it gas money for coming
all the way out to the `Christmas Island`."

Timmy's father quickly counted through the singles. "Forty-two dollars", he
said to Timmy.

"For ME?", his son beamed as his father handed him the bundle of dollars.

"For you", he said. "It seems Santa has forty-two of his helpers coming
with him today."

"Timmy ran to one bed and looked at all the dollar bills. "Forty-two. This
is a whole lot. Right daddy?", he asked.

"Sure is, sweetie. A whole lot", his father replied, now wondering is this
had been such a good idea. He knew that his son was a born little slut. But
as he looked at his son's small frame as he sat happily upon the bed, he
wondered if such a little guy could handle forty-two men all at once?


It was then that Timmy said, "Is someone outside?" as he pointed to the
window.

Where his father had looked out earlier, the curtain remained parted an
inch or two.

And it did appear that someone was outside the window there.

His father went to the window and pulled the curtain back with his hand.

He caught two men outside on the walkway who had obviously been peeping in.

They appeared shocked and embarrassed at first as they pulled back. But
then they grinned strangely when they realizes the man inside the room
didn't seem to be all that upset.

He didn't even open his door to ask them what they were doing.

Instead, Timmy's daddy left the curtain as it now was, open only about four
inches and walked back to the bed where Timmy sat.

"Enough with the money, Tim. You`re here to play with Santa. Not get all
distracted by the money", he said as he physically removed the wad of bills
from his son's hands.

"We'll put this in our overnight bag", he said. "Where it will be
safe. Maybe you can buy your dad here a candy bar later from one of the
vending machines downstairs."

He then stepped up to his son again, and again thrust his crotch into his
little guy's face.

Immediately Timmy began to massage his daddy's big bulge right through the
material.

His father placed his hands on his hips and let his little champ slowly tug
his zipper.

As he stood there, he could see dark shapes were again at the window.

The peepers were back.

Or rather, hadn't left.

He let Timmy unzip him and begin to reach into his open fly when he
suddenly grabbed his son's wrist to stop him.

"Hang on a sec, champ", he said. He then walked over to the windows, his
huge erection in white Jockey shorts, poking out of the fly of his
trousers.

The men peeping in again jumped back as they saw him approach.

But all he did was shut the curtains fully - leaving the men to their
imaginations.

He chuckled to himself as he then turned and pulled his massive erection
out and walked back over to his young son.



To be continued...
misterghj@yahoo.com

