He Knows When You're Awake

I heard noises downstairs that Christmas Eve night, and rose up in bed, rubbing my eyes with my fist. Blinked a few times and looked at my clock. Nearly one o'clock in the morning, it was Christmas Day! And the noises downstairs...it must be Santa Claus!

I jumped out of bed and then remembered...I mustn't go downstairs until the sun comes up. If I did, Daddy had warned me carefully and seriously, then Santa Claus would be sure to leave me nothing for Christmas but a lump of coal. For a five and a half year old kid, that is like being consigned to Northern Siberia!

Still...a chance to see Santa Claus! I weighed the two options, decided I'd risk my Christmas toys for a chance to actually see this magical person in action (of course, I hoped to see him and not get caught). So I catfooted down the stairs. The stairs were at the end of a small hallway so I couldn't see anything from the stairs themselves, so I got into the hallway and peered around the edge of the doorway to the living room where our Christmas tree was standing.

And there it was, half-decorated, and my mother was stringing another set of lights onto it. She was wearing nothing but her nightgown and slippers and her hair was up in curlers. The opposite of Santa Claus in every way!

I heard a harumph behind me and I turned. There was Daddy, standing with a short pile of presents in both hands at his stomach. He wasn't wearing anything but the boxer shorts he wore all the time, and went to bed in each night. He'd change them when he showered in the morning, but I'd never seen him wearing anything less than these boxers.

"Sam!" Daddy barked at me, and I flinched. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I...I heard a noise and thought it was burglars." I quickly lied. It was s good lie and might have worked on Momma, but Daddy could always tell when I was lying. He says it's because I can't look him in the eyes when I'm lying and he was right, I couldn't look up after telling Daddy that.

So Daddy knew I didn't think it was burglars. "You were spying on us, weren't you?" He asked.

"I...I thought maybe Santa Claus could use some help." I still couldn't look up. I was looking at his hairy chest, just above the presents, where his breasts were a pair of round bulges, tipped with brown circular nipples, ringed themselves with a thicker patch of hair.

"You were trying to spot Santa Claus, weren't you?" Daddy asked.

"Uh-huh." I gave up. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"Hey, it's no problem of mine." Daddy told me and I looked up, hopeful. "It's Santa Claus. He catches you spying on you, and he'll take away all your presents."

"What are those?" I asked him, looking at the gifts in his hands.

"These are presents your mother and I bought for the family." Daddy told me. "We're trying to get everything ready for when Santa gets here. And he's going to be here soon, so you'd better get back in bed and go back to sleep. Santa knows when you're awake, you know, and that's all it takes for him to skip your house for Christmas."

"Yes, Daddy!" I agreed and dashed back up the stairs and got back into bed. Which solved the first part of the problem. But I still didn't understand why Momma was decorating the tree. She'd always told me Santa decorated our tree for us, when he brought the present. So why was she putting on the lights and had boxes of Christmas bulbs and such all around her?

I lay awake in bed, thinking about it, and some fifteen minutes later, I heard Momma and Daddy coming up the stairs. I called out, "Momma? Daddy?"

"Are you still awake?" It was Daddy, now without presents covering part of his body. Daddy works hard for a living, building things for people, and he was a very muscular man, with light brown hair, a face Mom described as "ruggedly handsome" (and he was!), and his arms and legs and chest were all bulgy with muscle and dusted all over with hair, a darker brown than on his head. I could just see him from the light Momma had turned on from their bedroom a ways down the hall.

"I can't go to sleep." I complained. "Daddy? Momma said Santa decorates the tree, so why was she doing it?"

Daddy looked down as he answered, "She was just putting a few things on the tree, Son. Santa comes in and lights the tree up and makes it magical. She was helping Santa, don't you see?"

"Is that what you were doing, helping Santa with those presents?"

"That's right." Daddy said. "Now go to sleep."

"I can't sleep, Daddy!" I whined. "Santa's going to catch me awake and then what'll I do? He won't leave me any presents!"

"Aw, jeez!" Daddy groaned. "Son, it's one o'clock in the morning!"

"I know." I said. "Daddy, can I sleep with you and Momma?"

Daddy shook his head on that. "No. Your mother doesn't like you sleeping with us, you know that." She used to let me sleep with them all the time, but a few months ago, she'd laid down the law, from now on, I had to sleep every night, all night, in my own bed.

But I thought of an alternative. "Then can you sleep with me tonight, Daddy? Just until I can go to sleep? I don't want to miss Christmas!" I whined.

"Ahhhh....!"

I scooted over quickly. "There's room, Daddy, please, just for a little while?" I left him as much room in my bed as I could, which wasn't much.

"All right, I'll lay with you for a little while. But then I'm getting up and when I do, you'd better be asleep." he warned me. He went to tell Momma what he was doing, and then he was back, and he was grinning like a little boy himself.

"Come on in, Daddy!" I lifted the covers back so he could get in.

It was crowded in my little bed with him in it. He got in on his side, facing me and I quickly snuggled up into his arms, resting my little head on one of his broad biceps. "Mmm, you're nice and warm, Daddy!"

"Well, I've been working, getting the house ready for Santa Claus, you know."

"When will Santa arrive, Daddy?"

"We don't know. Soon, probably. But sometimes, he doesn't get here until almost dawn. That's why you can't go downstairs again until then, you know that."

"Yeah." I said and snuggled in a bit more. And when I did, I felt something poking me on my leg. "What's that?" I asked.

"What's what?"

I reached down. "This thing here." I said as I got hold of his boxers, and when I did, Daddy's upper hand quickly snatched my hand away. "Is that your wiener, Daddy?"

"Yeah, Son, that's my wiener." Daddy admitted. "Now don't touch it again."

"It was touching me first." I pointed out. "It felt kind of hard. Not soft like mine at all."

"Yeah, when you grow up, it does that now and then. It doesn't mean anything." Daddy told me. "Now shut up and go to sleep or Santa will catch you. He knows when you're awake, you know."

"But I can't sleep!" I complained. "Why does your wiener get hard, Daddy?"

"Oh, Lord!" Daddy grunted. "Lots of reasons. Sometimes for no reason at all."

"Does it get soft again?"

"Usually, yes."

I touched his wiener again, and moved my hand back before Daddy could do anything about it. "It's still hard, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Why is it hard?"

"It just is."

"But why?" If Daddy could tell when I was lying, I could tell when he had an answer and wasn't telling it to me. "Come on, Daddy, why? Why? Why?"

"Because!" Daddy said and then stopped.

He was about to tell me and stopped, I could tell. "Why is it hard now, Daddy, is it still hard?" I touched it again. "It's harder than ever now!" And it was, like a thick, warm stick in his boxers.

"Quit touching it!" Daddy groaned.

"Is that why it's getting even harder?"

"Yes, it is!" Daddy blurted out. "It's hard because you're touching it. Because you're touching me. Okay? Now you know why. It gets hard when I get touched."

"Oh." I digested this for a moment. "Does it hurt when it gets hard, Daddy?"

"No. No, it doesn't hurt at all."

Again, the tone in his voice said there was more information to be had. "Does it feel good when it gets hard?"

"Yes, Son. When it gets hard, it feels really good." Daddy's voice was soft as it could be.

"Mine does,too." I admitted. I felt my own. "Hey, mine's hard now, too!" It was, a small hard bump, not nearly as big as Daddy's, but hard. "How about that?" I kept touching mine. "Mmm, feels better the more I touch it."

"Yes, Son, it does that." Daddy agreed. "Even more so when you're grown up like me."

"You like touching it, Daddy?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"You like it when other people touch it, Daddy?"

"I sure do." Daddy said firmly.

I got bolder. "Can I touch yours some more, Daddy? Make it feel better?"

"Well....Son, I...uh...."

But I was reaching for him already, this time I fished inside the fly of the boxers and caught a good hold of him, pulling it out of his boxers. When I did, Daddy stopped talking, just a long hissing intake of breath was his only sound.

"Mmm, Daddy, it's so warm!" I said as I felt it.

"Ohhhh, Baby, yeahhhh!" Daddy sighed.

"You like that, Daddy?"

"Yeah, Son, yeahhhhh!" Daddy moaned. "Get a good hold of it, and slide your hand up and down on it, okay, Son? Yeahhhh, like that, ohhhhhhh!"

I used my other hand to get my own wiener out of my briefs and when I did, I rubbed his big one against my little one. When I did, Daddy groaned and a rush of sticky fluid poured out of his prick and all over my littler dickie.

"Ooh, Daddy, what's that?"

"That's just my cock saying it loves what you're doing, Son!" Daddy said.

"Mmm, I like doing it, too." I agreed.

One of Daddy's big ham of a hand closed on my buttock and he pulled me closer to him and that mashed our cocks together between us. Daddy hunched back and forth and rubbed his big dong against my own dick and abdomen, and more of that sticky stuff gushed out. "Oh, Baby, oh, Baby!" Daddy groaned as he moved. "So good, Baby, so good!"

His hand pulled at my briefs and I understood and helped him, he slid my briefs down my legs far as he could. And while I sat up to pull them on off, Daddy did the same for his boxers, now we were naked under the covers together.

Daddy climbed on top of me and his cock now rubbed me again and this time, my briefs weren't anywhere to get in the way. Daddy rubbed me faster and harder, too, his hips thrusting back and forth, and I held onto him as my wiener was rubbed by his bigger prong hard and fast and it was all slippery with the fluid Daddy's cock had smeared on it as he moved.

I felt a tingling beginning to build up in my dick. "Daddy, Daddy, my wienie feels funny."

"Mine, too, Son!" Daddy panted. "It's getting better and better, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Daddy, oh, oh, Daddy!"

"Yeah, Son, yeah, uh, uh, uh!"

"Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy!" My dick was tingling like crazy now, and it just tingled harder, and harder and harder, until all my brain could hold was the feeling in my dick!

"Yeah, Son, Uh, uh, uh, uh...."

"Oh, oh, oh...."

"...uh, uh, uh, uh..."

"...oh, oh, oh...."

"...UH-HUH-UH-HUH-UH...."

"...Oh, oh, OH, OH, OH, OH...."

"...UH-HUNNNNNGGGHHHH!" Hot sticky wads of goo from Daddy's cock splashed on my stomach and my prick was drenched in it, and that felt even better!

"....OH, OHHHHHHH!"

"Guh, uh, uh, oh, Son!"

"Oh, oh, Daddy, oh!"

"Son, oh, Son, oh!"

"Daddy, oh, Daddy!"

"Uh, uh, uhhhh, uhhhhhhh!"

"Ohh, ohhh, ohhhh!"

"Ahhhhh!"

"Uhhhhh!"

And it was over, my cock stopped tingling, tingled less and less and in a few seconds, it was all over. "Oh, Daddy!"

"Oh, Son, shit, that was so fucking hot!"

"Oh, yes, Daddy, that was good!"

"It sure was." Daddy made a little chuckle when he said that, and I giggled.

"Oh, I can't believe how good that felt!"

"It gets even better when you're my age." Daddy agreed.

"Do you and Momma do this?"

"Something like it, yeah, we used to." Daddy said.

"Used to?"

"Yeah, used to. Your Momma doesn't like it much any more."

"Well, I like it a lot!" I said so enthusiastically that Daddy chuckled again. "I wish we could do this every night."

"Hmph, your mother wouldn't mind if we did, I think." Daddy grunted. "Long as she doesn't have to."

"Do you think Santa's visited us yet?" I asked.

"Maybe, Son." Daddy allowed.

"I was awake." I mused, then yawned. "But I think I can sleep now."

"Me, too, Son, me, too." Daddy agreed.

I closed my eyes and was asleep soon. And I slept with Daddy lying partly on me and me partly on Daddy the rest of that night.

I awoke when the light of the new day began to pour in through my window. Daddy was still there, asleep. I peered over and looked at the clock. Six o'clock. I pulled myself out from under Daddy and that woke him up. "Hey, Sport." he said.

"Good morning, Daddy." I said back to him.

"Christmas morning." he said and looked at my clock. "I'll bet your Mom is still sleeping."

"Uh, huh."

"Want to go open your presents?"

"Yeah." I agreed, but I stayed in bed. "But can we rub on each other again first like last night?"

"Mmm, Son, I'm still half asleep."

"That's okay." I told him and I climbed on top of Daddy's big strong body. He let me match our cocks together and his was hard by the time I did that and I rubbed on him like he did me the night before. It was just as much fun as it was the night before, maybe even a little more fun because we both knew what we were doing. Daddy sprayed more of that sticky stuff on me when he came, and that made me tingle all through again when he did, and I saw when I pulled up off of him that the stuff was white as snow, and thick. It clung to both of us and made little white ropes as I pulled away.

"We made a mess!" I giggled.

"Yeah, but we had fun." Daddy agreed. "Now, get us a wet washcloth and we'll wash up and then we'll go wake your mother."

I went downstairs after that with Daddy, and saw that Santa hadn't skipped over me at all. And like I told Momma when Daddy mentioned my spying the night before that Santa must not have come around until I was asleep. And I proudly said that Daddy sleeping with me was what had let me get back to sleep.

Daddy said maybe he ought to do that every night from now on. Momma said maybe so, like she wouldn't mind getting Daddy out of her bed.

I hope Daddy sleeps with me every night from now on. Santa knows when you're awake and what Daddy does with me in bed makes me sleep warm and sound.

THE END
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