Rick had reconciled himself to another night alone with Lonely Old Gay Man syndrome, though he’s only thirty-five. But even the fact that it’s Christmas means little to him—he’s cynical and sick of the holidays anyway—until the perfect present comes tumbling down the chimney. Rick never does learn the real name of “Santa Claus,” the hot, muscular young black man who shows up in his fireplace dressed in little more than a thong, some combat boots, and a Santa Claus coat.But what he does learn in this 4,500-word erotica is so much more, as the younger man teaches Rick to let himself be loved, and even, if the circumstances call for it, to let himself be ordered around. Never has a moment sitting on Santa’s lap looked so enticing. But is this all for real, or will the beautiful young man find some way to break Rick’s sad and lonely heart at the end of the day?
