Ho Ho Oh No #4
I glance down and his sweats are tented. Suddenly, I can’t look away.
“You seem excited too,” he murmurs, biting his lower lip, nodding at the pajama pants I borrowed. My stomach drops, the instinct to be embarrassed creeping in until Brad Lee stands.
“You okay if I take these off?” His fingers brush the top of his sweats, waiting.
I nod quickly. They come off and there’s his cock, pointing right at me. He’s naked. Hard. Beautiful. Every hair on his body matches the sandy brown waves on his head. My mouth opens, just slightly, and I feel my tongue run over my bottom lip.
I take a deep breath. Not sure who I should thank for this, but it’s probably Santa.
“Go ahead.” He steps closer. “Touch me.”
I reach out, his heat warming my fingers the moment I begin stroking. He settles between my legs, hands on my shoulders, head back, and I’m suddenly thrilled about the storm still churning outside.
“Oh, PJ.”
I pause.
Brad Lee looks at me, abashed. “Sorry, it slipped out.”
“PJ?” My brow furrows.
“Yeah, Phillip Jones. PJ. Nobody’s ever called you that?”
My mind races, thinking of all the nicknames I’ve had hurled at me over the years. Phil. Philly. Phil-dog. Flip. But never PJ. It feels… different. Unique. Brad Lee coded.
“No, but… you can.”
“Are you sure?”
“So sure.”
“Okay, PJ. How about you get these… pj’s off.” A laugh bubbles out.
I stand to remove them, but before my hands reach the waistband, Brad Lee yanks them—and my boxers—down. My aching cock springs free.
I’m completely naked. And… proud. Always have been, and now that my stomach is a little rounder, there’s even more to admire. Apparently, Brad Lee agrees, because his hands find my belly first, tracing gentle circles.
“Such a sexy Santa.”
I huff a laugh, and he pushes gently.
“Sit, please.”
I do as I’m told.
“Can you toss me a pillow?”
And just like that, I’m naked, hard, with Brad Lee kneeling between my spread legs. Consider me thoroughly jingled.
He takes my dick in his hands. “Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good, okay?”
“Okay.”
He holds me, eyes glassing over. I’m so damn hard, pulsing in his grip.
Brad Lee licks his lips, gives me a few slow strokes, then swallows me almost to the base. Every nerve in my body jolts to attention.
Not only does he know how to plan an event, handle a crowd on Christmas Eve, and coach me through it, but Brad Lee Levi also clearly knows how to suck dick.
He’s bobbing up and down. Using his hands to add friction. And then pulls back and slaps the wet head against his cheek. I watch in awe. That we’re doing this. Here. Now. That he’s so into it. It’s a side of him I didn’t expect. And it’s amazing.
“Brad Lee, you. You’re…” I’m not sure how to say it. “C’mere.” I grab under his arms, pulling him up, and he pushes me back, lying on top of me.
“Hey.” His lips ghost over mine.
“Hey.” I tilt my head up and kiss him. Soft. Gentle.
“Did that not feel good?” he asks.
I clear my throat, and it comes out indecently loud.
“No. Oh gosh, no. I mean yes. It did. Feel good. Fantastic. I just… I don’t know. I wanted to kiss you,” I admit, reaching back, hands landing on his ass. It’s covered in soft fuzz and feels incredible. “And maybe… wanted more.”
“Oh.” His eyes go wide. “Am I on the naughty or nice list?”
My fingers dig into his beautiful butt. “Both.”
Brad Lee’s eyebrows wiggle. “I like this side of you.”
“Must be the new nickname.”
“Okay, PJ. What do you want? You tell me.”
I chuckle. “Gosh, you’re cute. Do you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
“How are you single?”
He shrugs. “I’m not into the scene. The apps. I prefer someone…” He pushes himself up, kissing my forehead. “Real.”
My lips catch his as he moves down and I make an amendment to my long-standing position on Christmas.
“I was wondering… if you might like to…” I tug at his ass, spreading his cheeks, licking my lips.
“Oh, my cinnamon buns weren’t enough for you? You want more? With pleasure.” He moves onto his knees. “Stay right there. You good if I sit on your face? This way I can still play with your gorgeous cock.”
“Gorgeous?”
“PJ, don’t you know how glorious it is?”
He’s on his knees, facing away from me, holding my erection up.
“Truly. A stunning specimen. Anyway.” He lets go for a moment, reaching back to spread his cheeks wide.
A little soft brown hair frames his entrance. My cock strains at the sight. “Fuck, Brad Lee. Your hole is beautiful.”
He responds by leaning forward, stroking me, then spitting lightly on my dick.
I pull the pillow behind me, prop my head up, and press a soft kiss to his ass cheek. He smells like cocoa, cinnamon, and absolute heaven. My fingers stretch him wide, and my tongue follows.
I never considered how our bodies might fit together, but here we are, like a candy cane curved perfectly into someone’s hand. My hands land on his waist, yanking him back, and Brad Lee sits up.
“You want more, PJ?”
He grinds into my mouth, my tongue plunging deeper, his sweetness overwhelming in the best possible way. His hips find a rhythm, fucking my face, while his hands stroke me in unison. I moan into him. It’s absolutely perfect, and I’m fairly sure I’m not going to last long this way.
“There we go,” he says, jerking faster. “Come for me, Phillip.”
My hips shake, lifting off the bed, and my orgasm arrives like the snowstorm—sudden, intense, and relentless. I can’t see it, but I can feel every pulse. Strong, long spurts I know must be landing somewhere—on Brad Lee, the bed, or both.
“Fuck.” His hands don’t stop, draining every last drop, and I don’t stop rimming him like I’m chasing the last gift under the tree.
When I finally finish, he lets go. “Now… just keep doing that with your mouth, and I’ll come in no time.”
I obey, and within a minute, I feel him contract around my tongue. Pulsing as he unloads on my chest. Stomach. A few drops hit my thighs. It’s magnificent.
When he’s done, neither of us moves for a moment. In the stillness, all I can think is, What the hell just happened? And, Dear Santa, can you please make it happen again?
Brad Lee climbs off, grabs a snowman dish towel from the kitchen, and carefully cleans us both up, methodical and unbothered by the mess, while I just lie there, admiring him.
“You’re quite smiley.” He wraps the towel around my dick, making sure it’s spotless.
I shrug. “Can’t help it. That might be the best Christmas morning… ever.”
The room goes quiet. Just us, the apartment, and the snow pressing softly against the window.
He lies against me, forehead resting on my chest. My pulse slows, warm and heavy. I could stay here forever. The room smells like… us. Soap, sweat, sex, and a hint of cinnamon—and it makes me ache in the best possible way.
Brad Lee’s arms tighten around me, not possessive, not demanding, simply claiming me gently. I notice how natural it feels, how easy it is to let myself melt against him. The part that usually keeps walls around everything that matters, shrinks a little. All because of him.
He hums a carol softly—low and contented—and I pull him closer. Every small movement he makes, brushing a hand across my shoulder, the gentle curve of his fingers along my arm, reassures me I’m exactly where I belong. I’ve never felt this seen, this wanted, this… safe.
“I could get used to this,” I murmur.
He smiles, tilts his head, and kisses my chin. “Careful. That’s how habits form.”
I can’t help the small laugh that percolates out. Comfort spreads from my chest to my toes. The snow outside is falling again, but I don’t care. I’ve never felt warmer.
We shift together under the blankets, tangled, lazy, perfectly comfortable. He brushes his hand along my jaw again, and I hope he does it a million times more.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like the world isn’t pressing against me or demanding I be anyone other than myself. Brad Lee wants me just as I am. The thought makes me dizzy with relief, with disbelief, with something dangerously close to hope.