The sound of the door closing echoes in my ears, and suddenly my mouth feels dry, my ability to speak slipping away. I can’t tear my eyes away from his hands, the same hands that had given me pleasure earlier, now flexing around the lock.
He returns to his workbench, abandoning the rag, and I steal a moment to divert my gaze from his muscular frame hidden beneath the dark gray coveralls to the enormous sleigh before me.
At least sixty feet of intimidating red and glittering gold, look back at me. My face tightens, lips pressing into a flat line as I make hesitant steps towards the extravagant monstrosity that represents the epitome of my family legacy.
Although the outside shell looks the same as it did when the original Santa Claus, my great-great-great-great grandfather first took to the skies. The inside—thanks to Kris—has had a total overhaul. Their dream to bring the sleigh into the modern era, becoming a reality.
Dials, knobs and screens now fill the dashboard. State-of-the-art guidance systems, radar navigation and stardust amplifiers allowed for ease of use and helped make the sleigh as efficient as possible.
Kris was currently working on specially designed helmets for the reindeer, which allowed for real time directional changes directly to the cockpit based on potential hazards or delays.
My personal favorite was the hot cocoa dispenser Kris added into the center console last Christmas. Before that, my father had cup trays filled with thermoses which would usually run out somewhere over North America.
My head spins with the realization that in just a few days, I will take the reins, literally, and I brace myself on the lip of the cockpit door to steady the dizzying thoughts.
The list of jobs to complete within that time flooding my brain. Checking inventory, route preparation, last-minute suit alterations … A warm body presses into my back and I instantly feel myself relax. Preparation concerns becoming snowflakes on the breeze.
Kris’ breath tickles the shell of my ear as he leans over me, pushing my body into the titanium shell. The smell of freshly polished leather mixes with Kris’ scent and I have to bite my lip to hold in the moan, already wanting to slip past my lips.
“Do you like the new upgrades?” he purrs next to my ear.
Words feel like lacquer in my throat as I try to think of something cool to say back to him.
“It ah, looks shinier?” I cringe, ‘shinier’. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?
My voice breaks and I sound like, now at thirty-one, my balls are just finally dropping and I mentally face palm myself.
Of course, I know about the new upgrades to the sleigh. We had meetings about the major titanium upgrades to the runners back in January. It had been one of the first projects that my father had actually let Kris lead.
How have I already fucked this up in the first sentence I’ve said to him tonight? I just can’t manage to form coherent sentences with his body pressed up against mine, and his rock hard length rubbing against my ass.
I brace for the coolness to hit my back as he leaves, deciding he is done with me. A huff of warm air brushes against the back of my neck, but he doesn’t move away.
His hand skims across my hip to brace against the sleigh. The other brushes passed mine, and he points to the new dials added to the dash. I shiver as he surrounds me, loving the feeling of being boxed in by his muscular arms.
“This one is the updated stardust equalizer.” I hum in response as his breath whispers over my ear, closing my eyes as I feel him smirk against my shoulder.
“What does that do?” I feel like I should remember this, but right now, with Kris pressed so tightly against my body, all knowledge slips from my brain. My only thoughts are how he tastes and how good it felt to explode into his mouth. How desperate I am to do it again. To do more.
“It stabilizes the amount of stardust emanating from the sleigh so you don’t end up overtaking the reindeer.”
The sleigh used to rely solely on reindeer magic, but as belief in Santa Claus wanes, we’ve had to find alternative sources. Stardust.
The level of stardust input had to be altered by my father, mid-flight, depending on the flight requirements, either increasing or decreasing it. It was a delicate balance.
Too much stardust and like Kris said, the sleigh would overtake the reindeer. Too little, and it adds too much pressure on the reindeer, risking burnout. Kris’ latest upgrade should hopefully make this less of an issue that I will need to focus on throughout my flight.
“Yeah, that would … umm … be bad.” I’m a fucking moron.
Another huff of a laugh brushes across my ear. “Yes, Santa. That would be bad.” The way he drags out the name Santa like he is testing how it feels as it rolls across his tongue has me biting the inside of my cheek, feeling flush.
“Did you have a productive afternoon?” he asks.
Now it’s my turn to scoff. Productive is not what I would call it.
“I had to sit through hours of meetings with my father.”
“And that wasn’t productive?” his mouth moves to my other ear and I shiver at the contact of his teeth grazing my ear.
“Not when all I could think about was how hot you looked with my cock in your mouth.”
This time his tongue licks a path up my neck, his hot breath eliciting a moan from deep in my chest as I press back into him, locked between him and the sleigh.
“So you’ve been thinking about my cock all day?” He punctuates his question with the press of his hard erection against my ass and I whimper.
“Use your words, Santa Baby,” he growls.
Slowly, he grinds against me. My rock hard cock presses against the cool titanium sides of the cockpit. The thin material of my trousers the only thing stopping me from fucking the side of the sleigh.
“Yes,” I stutter out, “all day.” I moan as he grinds against me again.
“Good, because the sweet taste of you has lingered in my mouth all day,” he says as he places a kiss against the base of my neck. “Do you know how hard it is to get my work done when my dick has been aching for you all day?”
Oh, I know. I've had to subtly readjust my pants as my arousal reignited with each glance at the wall in my office.
When I’m unable to answer, the contrast of the flush of my skin and the cool titanium too much, he continues. “I’ve spent my day bent over this cockpit, imagining how good you are going to feel when I get inside of you. How warm and inviting your ass will be. How tightly you will clamp down on my cock as you beg me to fuck you harder.”
With another grind, I’m lost. It’s like I can’t breathe.
