The One With Santa’s Sack
Ruby managed to keep us fairly busy over the next week, preparing us for the special Christmas extravaganza she intended to host. While I did my best to pay attention to the details, the only thing that I had actually absorbed during our staff meeting Monday morning was that it was to be Saturday evening, and there was to be a crap load of tinsel and alcohol. I couldn’t find any real reason to object to copious amounts of adult beverages, even if the strings attached to it were glued to some ridiculous medley of Christmas songs and embarrassing costumes.
At least the music would be different for a change.
“And, to keep with the spirit of Christmas,” Ruby said, snapping me out of the daydream I tried so hard to create for myself. “This year, we will be doing Secret Santa! I have written everyone’s names down and put it in this Santa hat!” she began passing the hat around, smiling. “Only take one name! If you get yourself, put your name back and draw another, please!”
When Ruby held the hat in front of my face, I groaned, but drew a name anyway. I unfolded the page, silently praying it was Taylor. As hokey as Secret Santa was, at least I knew what I could get him. I stared down at the piece of paper, where Cade’s name appeared in Ruby’s neat handwriting. I sighed, only slightly disappointed, and stuffed the paper in my pocket as Ruby finally called our staff meeting over.
I heaved a sigh of relief and scurried out of the club as fast as I could, waiting by the car for Taylor. The drive home was silent as I contemplated what to get Cade for Secret Santa, and I could feel Taylor’s eyes on me as I drove. “What?” I finally asked.
“Nothing,” Taylor replied, nonchalantly.
“Then why the hell are you staring at me?” I demanded.
“I’m not staring. I’m admiring. There’s a difference.”
“Well, it’s creepy. Stop.” I grumbled, though I couldn’t fight the smile that spread on my lips.
Double Entendre’s was busier than usual at our Holiday Extravaganza. Ruby had tripled promotions, and offered special lap dance prices as a holiday special. I couldn’t say I minded much–what money the clients saved on lap dances went into our pockets as tips, and though I hated every note of our Christmas routine music medley, I actually had fun.
The crowd seemed to enjoy it as well, and being the Christmas season showed their appreciation in the form of dollar bills. I was in the back after we closed, inventorying my spoils, when Taylor came rushing in carrying a tray of cookies. “When did you have time to bake?” I asked, eyeing the tray.
“Last night while you were sleeping,” he shrugged. “Decorated them while you were out this morning.”
I nodded in response, walking over to inspect the tray. There were various Christmas-related cookies–a Christmas tree, Santa’s sleigh, and even Rudolph–but they all seemed to be relatively the same shape.
“Taylor?” I asked as the shape of the cookies began to take form in my mind’s eye. “Did you only use one cookie cutter for these?” He grunted in response to my question as Cade and Eduardo came into the room to change.
Eduardo had joined me by Taylor’s cookies, a puzzled look appearing on his face as he looked over them as well. “Taylor, why is Santa’s beard shaped like testicles?”
“Oh! I could only find my penis-shaped cookie cutter, so I had to make due. I thought it was kind of funny considering we work at a strip club, anyway.”
I picked up one of the cookies, depicting Santa dragging his bag of goodies behind him. “Well, this gives a whole new meaning to Santa’s sack…”
“C’mon, Zac,” Eduardo said from beside me. “You’re dating Taylor–it’s about time you had some balls in your mouth!”
I dropped the cookie back on the try and walked out of the green room straight to the bar. I had the bartender pour me a draft, and I pounded it before asking for another. With second beer in hand, I surveyed the main room of the club. Red, green, and silverware was everywhere, and Ruby hadn’t been kidding when she said that Christmas would sparkle. There was tinsel everywhere, no surface spared the injustice; it looked like Tinkerbell had exploded in the room.
Just then, Christmas music began playing through the speakers again, and Ruby appeared from the back carrying four large pizzas. I helped her settle them next to the eggnog Eduardo had brought and the other snacks and foods everyone had contributed. After we all dug into the food, Ruby announced she was having some more people stop by, but wanted to do our Secret Santa exchange first. She led everyone to one of the party tables, and our gifts got handed out.
I didn’t recognize the handwriting on mine, which meant it was either Cade or Eduardo, and tore into the neatly wrapped gift. Inside a deceptively large box, I found a book titled “The Gay Kama Sutra” and a bottle of lubrication. My cheeks flushed as I stared down at the items in the box, quickly putting the lid back on and looking up. Eduardo began to chuckle. “What’s the matter? Don’t like your present?”
“I…I uh…” I couldn’t form words, even to say how childish the gift was.
“It’s bacon flavored,” Eduardo announced, which only made me feel more like crawling into a hole.
“What’s bacon flavored?!” Taylor asked excitedly from next to me.
“Nothing,” I replied quickly, though Eduardo apparently did not share my sense of modesty.
“Lube,” he replied casually to the table.
I shrank down in my chair, despite everyone else bursting out laughing. I couldn’t even focus on what anyone else had received, or how Cade responded to his Vitamin World gift card. Instead, I guzzled my beer and hit the barkeep up for something stronger.
Time began to pass in a strange slow-motion the more I drank, and as an added bonus I felt myself relax. With still just the five of us, Cade produced a fat blunt as a Holiday toast, and we each shared our holiday wishes as we took our hits. Other people started to arrive shortly after, and when I spotted Brenda, I did the only logical thing I could do: I hid in one of the private rooms. I was alone for only thirty seconds when there was a knock on the door.
When I didn’t respond, whoever was on the other end began jiggling the doorknob. “Really, Zac?” I heard Taylor exclaim.
“Thank God!” I opened the door and yanked Taylor inside with me, locking it again when we were both clear. “Brenda is here! What do I do?!”
“Apparently you lock yourself in one of our private lap dance rooms,” he observed.
“Seriously, Tay!”
“Forget about her. I have something I want to give you,” a crooked grin spread across his face and it was immediately obvious he was plastered. “First, a toast!” He handed me an empty shot glass, then produced a bottle of whiskey from behind his back. We both took a few shots, and I finally felt myself begin to get fuzzy.
“So,” I asked slowly, falling onto the cushioned bench seat. “What did you want to give me?”
Taylor’s smile got even more crooked, and he stumbled toward me. He kept falling, landing half on top of me, half next to me, and his hand found it’s way to my face. “You’re pretty,” he said. “Handsome,” he corrected, his eyebrows furrowing.
I laughed as Taylor’s fingers found their way under my shirt. He pinched my nipple, placing a sloppy kiss on my neck. “What are you doing?” I asked, shifting myself away from Taylor.
The movement caused him to slid onto the bench, a weird snort-chuckle escaping his lips. “Don’t play hard to get, Zac,” he slurred.
“Tay, I’m not playing hard to get…I just don’t want to mess around in a private room while we are both drunk.”
“I am not drunk. That is just re-DIC-o-lous,” his words slurred together, and he began laughing at himself, crawling toward me.
He managed to make his way into my lap; having been drunk myself I didn’t quite have coordination enough to push him away. Besides, the small nibbles he kept applying to my neck only served to turn me on. He likely knew they would, and was doing it on purpose to get me riled up.
When his hand began to creep south of the border, I could only manage a low moan. I was already hard as a rock, and despite the rational voice in my head telling me I should stop him, I just let Taylor continue. His long fingers wrapped around the outline of my hardon over my jeans, and he let out a moan that matched my own.
Feeling bold, I tangled my fingers in Taylor’s hair, pulling his face to mine and crushing our lips together. Taylor’s front tooth snagged my upper lip, and I pulled back with a soft “ow,” running my tongue along the sore area. I didn’t feel or taste any blood, so I returned to the kiss I had initiated.
My tongue invaded Taylor’s mouth; he tasted like beer and marijuana, and though the taste wasn’t exactly sexy, it was Taylor. In response to my kiss, Taylor rocked his hips against me, his hardon pressing into my own. Instinctively, my hands found his hips, pulling him closer to me. He broke the kiss, placing both his hands on my chest. “I still wanna give you somethin’,” he smiled, sliding off my lap.
Because of his intoxicated state, he landed on his ass on the floor. He started laughing again as he stood, smiling at me. “Look,” he wiggled his eyebrows and pointed to his stick and berries. He had somehow pulled his pants off when he stood, and his hard cock was now staring me in the face. Somehow, still neatly secured to it was a big red bow. “Merry Yearsmas and Happy Christ! Wait, that was wrong.”
Though it wasn’t the first time I had seen Taylor’s penis, I was still shocked by the actual size of it. I certainly wasn’t sure what to do with it, and my hesitation caused Taylor to frown. “Don’t you like your present?”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so I just looked up at him with a nervous smile. “I…I don’t really know what to say…”
Taylor slowly untied the bow, then grabbed my hand and guided it to his stiff erection. I tentatively curled my fingers around him, closing my eyes as I did so. Unsure exactly what to do, I settled on the Golden Rule: treat others how you wish to be treated.
As I began to move my hand up and down his length, Taylor groaned, his head falling back. I felt his hand creep behind my head and didn’t have time to prepare as he pushed himself toward my face. His cock pushed past my lips and slammed into the back of my throat. With eyes watering, I pulled back, coughing.
“Zac…” Taylor whined. “Please?”
Even though I was still trepidatious, I took him back into my mouth and slowly began to work up a rhythm. Knowing what I liked, and seeing how into it Taylor was getting, made it a lot easier to swallow what I was doing. Taylor had a death grip on my hair, which only got worse the closer he got to finishing. He was so far inside my mouth when it finally happened that I had no choice but to swallow, and though it didn’t taste as bad as I had anticipated, I still pushed his hips away, fighting back the urge to puke.
Taylor was trying to climb back into my lap, but still couldn’t quite hold himself steady; his elbow collided with the side of my face, knocking me back against the backrest of the bench. “Sorry,” he mumbled, reaching for the waistband of my pants. “Will you fuck me for Christmas?”
His tone was lazy, his words more of a plea than a request, and for the first time, I actually considered his offer. “Tay…you’re really drunk,” I commented.
“I don’t care,” he started dropping soft kisses along my jawline before his lips found mine again. “I want this, sober or intossicated. I even brought this,” he leaned over, reaching for his pants. To stop him from falling over again, I wrapped my arms around his waist. He came back to a sitting position with his jeans in hand, and a moment later produced a condom and the bacon flavored lube.
“You actually want to use that?” I asked in disbelief.
“Why not?” He raised one eyebrow at me, an adorably innocent grin on his lips. I hated and loved the fact that, of all the people on the planet, it was Taylor who was actually about to convince me to have sex in a private lap dance room at our work. On our first time, no less.
He had a point, though. Why not? As everyone kept pointing out, we’d essentially been together for ten years; it was about time we consummated the damn relationship. I moved Taylor from my lap, then took the condom from his hand. I dropped my pants to the floor and quickly rolled the condom on. Taylor already had the lube open and in his hand; once the condom was secure he grabbed my cock and gave it a few quick pumps to work the lube on.
He laid on his back on the bench, and I positioned myself over him. “Are you sure about this?” I asked him.
“Are you?” He countered.
“Yeah,” I answered after a moment–and I meant it.
“Then so am I,” he smiled up at me, pulling me into a kiss. As he kissed me, I slowly guided myself toward him, taking my time as I entered him to give him time to adjust. After a few minutes–and some Taylor faces that would otherwise be hilarious–I was all the way inside of him.
I turned my eyes back to Taylor’s, my heart pounding so loud in my chest I couldn’t think. It was happening, after many years of denial, and many weeks of dry humping, it was finally happening.
Taylor and I were having sex.