Oz Beach Boy Xmas Calendar Riot

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This is an entry in the

Literotica Winter Holidays Story Contest 2024

, so I'd really appreciate it if you could take the time to leave a score.

This story features my recurring character Matt (a muscular, well-hung, twenty-something, sex-addicted male exhibitionist) doing an in-store signing and photo promo event for his new Christmas nude calendar. With a large crowd of horny women in attendance, things very quickly get out of hand.

This story features CFNM, public women-of-man stripping, spanking, digital penetration, fellatio, intercourse, and reluctant sexual consent. This is a complete work of fiction. All characters are over eighteen.

I am endeavouring to gradually write a CFNM "Oz Beach Boy" story in every Literotica category. This entry: "Non Consent & Reluctance".

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It was Christmas time in Sydney Australia. I was nearly naked in a busy shopping centre, and there was a line of women waiting to meet me. I was as nervous as I was excited.

"Can you make it out to Shazza?" a considerably overweight young woman asked me with a smile. "And can you sign my tits?"

"Um...okay...yeah, sure," I replied.

Shazza thrust her copy of the "Very Sexy Santa All Year-Round Calendar - Nice Version" in front of me, and I quickly scrawled my newly created "Very Sexy Santa" signature across its front cover, which featured a now very, very familiar image of me. This very image had changed my life in quite extraordinary ways...mostly for the better.

As I finished signing for Shazza, I looked down at the now famous image. The previous Christmas, a full-frontal nude photo of me with my face hidden in sunglasses, a Santa hat, and Santa beard went viral around the world, and, for a time, I gained a surprising level of bizarre anonymous fame as the ridiculously named Sexiest Santa Ever. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Vs Mariah Xmas Carey"]

"Can you sign my tits now?" Shazza asked with a dirty wink, and then wrenched her top down to provide me access to her upper breasts, their considerable weight supported by a big, black bra.

As the other women behind her laughed, I stood up from behind the large table I was seated at, and then reached up above Shazza's tits with my large marker. I awkwardly scrawled my signature over her pale, milky flesh, my hand brushing against her smooth, soft skin, and feeling the sensual heaviness of her big breasts.

It was a massive turn-on, and I guiltily hoped that Shazza wouldn't be the only woman at the signing promo event to make this raunchy request. Hopefully, signing women's tits would just be a sexy component of being a nude calendar star.

Earlier this year, after the phenomenal media attention that the Sexiest Santa Ever viral photo had received, Michelle Grant at Harrington Press Publishing offered me the opportunity to star in my very own nude calendar. It was a nerve-wracking proposal, but I was just too perverted, narcissistic, and sexually curious to turn down the offer to star in the "Very Sexy Santa All Year-Round Calendar" for 2025.

Michelle Grant had suggested the name switch. She thought the "Sexiest Santa Ever" not only sounded a little presumptuous and arrogant, but that it didn't roll off the tongue with enough ease. It was determined from a marketing perspective that I would now be better off known as The Very Sexy Santa.

Once I'd signed off on the idea, the "Very Sexy Santa All Year-Round Calendar" quickly went into production. It was immediately agreed that half of all profits made after production costs would go to charity, which made me feel a little better about the whole seamy deal.

The calendar shoot earlier in the year had been absolutely extraordinary. Shot by an all-female crew led by beautiful forty-something photographer and former model Ingrid Hansson, I'd had feminine eyes on my nude body for weeks. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy...Nude Calendar Star!"] It was one of the best sexual experiences of my sordid life.

"God, I can't believe you're here," said a tall, slim woman likely in her forties with elaborately permed hair. "You're so hot...and that body! Thanks for coming dressed like that. You look amazing."

"Thanks...I didn't want to disappoint," I responded with a smile. "I thought you ladies might be upset if I turned up in a suit and tie."

"Oh, there would have been a fucking riot, pal," the woman said with a giggle. "You know that old line about women preferring to look at a man in clothes rather than naked? Well, it's fucking bullshit...probably invented by a guy with a small dick!"

"Well, I'm here to please," I said.

"You're certainly doing that," the woman said as I scrawled my signature across the cover of her calendar, on which my previously full-frontal penis was amusingly covered by an image of a cartoon Christmas tree.

For this calendar in-store signing and photo promo event at The Parnell Court Shopping Centre, it was quickly decided with Michelle Grant from Harrington Press Publishing that I would come dressed - or more accurately, undressed - as The Very Sexy Santa, namely with my Santa hat, Santa beard, and aviator sunglasses. In lieu of being nude, however, I wore a pair of satin, Christmas-themed shorts patterned with snowflakes, trees and seasonal imagery. In short, I was bare-chested...and barely clothed.

Though being so on-show in front of such a large group of women was certainly a strange feeling, being near-naked in general wasn't. Though not officially diagnosed, I'm pretty much a raging sex addict. I'm a narcissistic Aussie male exhibitionist in my twenties who loves getting nude, preferably with women watching me. I spend hours training to get my body as ripped and muscular as I can, principally to attract as much female attention as possible.

I like to show off and put myself in potentially sexy situations whenever I can, particularly around Sydney's many beaches and secluded coastal bays. I also frequently stroll around at night on busy weekends looking for action wherever I can find it.

I am constantly horny, and I've enjoyed a lot of kinky hook-ups in my time. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy's Exhibitionism Essay"] But even for a daring, desperate, highly active, sex addicted exhibitionist like me, a publicly on-sale nude calendar represented a very big step into the sensual unknown.

"Please write 'Merry fucking Christmas, Wendy,'" said a heavily made-up, deep-voiced woman likely in her late forties.

"No worries," I said.

The woman slid her calendar in front of me with a dirty smile, and I happily scrawled my signature across the cover. As I did, the woman leaned down and ran her fingers suggestively up my muscled forearm. The sensation of her long nails on my skin sent pleasurable shivers of arousal up and down my spine.

"Can you show me your dick?" the woman whispered suggestively. "I wanna see it in the flesh. Please?"

"Oh, no...I can't do that here," I replied. "I'm sorry...the shopping centre wouldn't allow any nudity. It's against the rules...I'm sorry."

"God, you're such a tease," the woman said with a good-natured snarl as she moved on. "It's so big...it's a crime you hiding it away from all us excited women. You've got a really beautiful dick...you're a lucky, lucky man."

The woman wasn't wrong. Nearly every day, I thank the universe - and my supremely well-hung American porn actor, bank robber, convict father [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Looks For His Father"] - for blessing me with an enormous penis, which hangs long, thick and uncut almost down to my knees; my cock has certainly aided me in my very kinky run of sexual escapades. Its impressive, outlying size was a major reason for why The Sexiest Santa Ever photo went viral.

"Hey, bro'," said a very attractive young woman in her early twenties. "Why can't we buy the other calendar here? The one where we can see your dick? This one's hot, but I wanna see your dick, bro', like in that first photo. I want that dick out, man!"

"Oh, you can only get that calendar online," I responded as I signed the cute young woman's calendar. "Most retail stores wouldn't stock it. It's too risque. There's a QR code on the back there."

"Cool...thanks, bro'," the woman said, and then dropped a piece of paper in front of me with her phone number scratched across it. "I'll buy that shit ASAP."

As the cute young woman had alluded to, the concept from Michelle Grant at Harrington Press Publishing was for the production of two nude Christmas calendars. The "Nice" calendar (which featured nude but not full-frontal photos of me) was to be sold in retail stores, while the far more explicit and risque "Naughty" calendar (which was packed with cock-out pics) would be available only for online purchase. It was a great strategy in terms of sales, but I hoped it wouldn't disappoint too many women at this in-store signing promo event. For them, this was disappointingly a dick-free zone.

The signing area at The Parnell Court Shopping Centre was set up near a large indoor dining and entertainment area. I was behind a large table backed up against a wall and a staff-only door through which I had entered earlier. Beyond the door was a staff service corridor that ran around the shopping centre.

Around the food and entertainment area, there were lots of people going about their Christmas shopping beyond the large crowd of women gathered specifically to meet me at the calendar signing.

The Parnell Court Shopping Centre was elaborately decorated for Christmas. There were large trees, life-size statues of Santa Claus, tinsel and holly hanging from the ceilings, and Christmas baubles and figurines everywhere. It all looked incredibly festive and colourful. I felt like a shot of prurient sleaze in amongst all the warmth and positivity.

Positioned around the huge signing table were large posters of the cover of the "Very Sexy Santa All Year-Round" calendar...seeing so many nude photos of myself displayed publicly still freaked me out, even if my dick was covered by that aforementioned cartoon Christmas tree.

Over The Parnell Court Shopping Centre's sound system, Christmas songs played non-stop, with Mariah Carey's "Have A Cool Yule" and Freya Gersemi's "Christmas With You" getting particularly consistent play. There was no sign, however, of my current favourite Christmas song. Filthy and funny, controversial American female rapper Ebony Bytch's rude, foul-mouthed banger "Suck On Yo' Candy Cane" was disappointingly unlikely to ever be played in a shopping centre.

"Hmmmm, it's going well," Michelle Grant whispered into my ear from behind me, her big breasts brushing against my bare shoulders. "The women love you, Matt. This is great."

"Yeah, it's fun," I said, signing another woman's calendar.

"I'll have to show you my...

appreciation

...a little later," Michelle said huskily.

Thankfully, Michelle Grant was there at The Parnell Court Shopping Centre to finesse everything with the centre managers and make sure that everything ran smoothly. She was hovering around behind me keeping an eye on things, while two muscular, well-dressed security guards were making sure that the line moved safely past me. I felt safe, but the way many of the women were looking at me certainly made me feel more than a little vulnerable. Their salacious stares, however, certainly turned me on too.

"Can you sign it for my mum, Lois?" asked a short, thirty-something woman with big, round glasses. "She'd be here to meet you, but she's got motor neurone disease, and it's a bit hard for her getting around right now."

"Yeah, of course," I replied, marker poised. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"She was so excited when she found out that half the proceeds would go to motor neurone disease," the woman said. "It made us love you even more!"

"I hope it can help in some way," I responded. "I'm happy to be able to do something. It's a terrible disease."

"It certainly is," the woman said, and then leaned down closer to me and lowered her voice. "Can you please write, 'Lois, you can smack my bum anytime you like'?"

"Yeah, sure," I said with a laugh. "Your mum sounds naughty!"

"She is indeed," the woman responded. "She loves your willy and your muscles, but she really, really loves your bum. She always says, 'God, if I could get that guy over my knee!'"

"I'd happily take a few licks from your mum," I said with a laugh.

The woman then turned, leaned back, and snapped a selfie of herself while I stood up slightly and smiled enthusiastically for the camera through my Santa beard. The woman unnecessarily thanked me profusely, and then moved along in the line.

I happily signed calendars, chatted with the women in line (many of whom were outrageously flirtatious), posed for selfies from my safe vantage point behind the large table, and enjoyed the many illicit touches of my hands and forearms. Sitting there in my silly Santa outfit, I was having a great time indeed. As I'd suspected, it was turning out to be a very interesting and enjoyable Christmas.

After a while, Michelle Grant - who had done all the intros, and also continually but very gently implored the people in line to keep moving so everyone could get to meet The Very Sexy Santa - picked up her microphone and tapped it a few times to check that it was on.

"Okay, ladies," Michelle said confidently, "to make it a little more fun for those at the back of the line, we're going to break from the signing and get The Very Sexy Santa to stand up and cut a few poses so you can all get some photos. How does that sound?"

As the crowd cheered wildly, two female employees from The Parnell Court Shopping Centre pushed a small platform into place behind the large table, which would allow me to stand up so all the assembled women could see me. I was incredibly excited about having so many female eyes on me, but also a little nervous, which thankfully pretty much put an inappropriate erection out of the equation.

"Show them what you've got, Santa," Michelle said loudly into the microphone. "Flex those muscles! Give these ladies an early Christmas gift! Spread some muscled-up Christmas cheer!"

To wild, shrieking, feminine cheers, I got up from my seat behind the table and then stepped up onto the small platform. I looked out, and I was actually a little surprised by the size of the crowd. Apart from the security guards, there seemed to be no men out there at all. There was something perversely and undeniably hot about that.

I waved out at all the women, my face hidden by my Santa hat, beard and sunglasses, but my body on full display. I saw female eyes raking up and down my bare torso lustily, taking in the marbled, smoothly waxed musculature of my chest and abdomen. I saw women licking their lips excitedly, and women waving at me, desperately trying to get my attention.

I waved out into the crowd, and tried to smile as best as I could through my silly fake beard. I then began to pose, and the screaming and cheering got louder and louder. I placed my hands behind my head to stretch and elongate the muscles of my bare torso, and heard a few loud gasps.

I then raised up my arms in the classic bodybuilder pose, flexing my biceps and making them pop as much as I could. I put my legs out one at a time to accentuate the striated musculature of my thighs and calves.

When I turned around to show off the muscles in my back - as well as my butt, which I hoped would be at least partially visible in my satin Christmas shorts - the cheering increased in volume and enthusiasm.

"Take off your pants," came a shrill demand from the crowd. "Show us your jingle balls!"

"We know you've got nothing to be ashamed of," came another female voice. "Get your fuckin' dick out, mate! Do it for Christmas!"

"Show us your cock," shouted another woman, obviously opting to keep things simple and straightforward. "Give us a look, baby! Give us a Christmas to remember!"

When Michelle Grant noticed how loud and aggressive the women were getting in their demands to see me naked, the gorgeous older woman grabbed her microphone, and quickly spoke into it in a calm, quiet manner.

"Ladies, I can understand that you're excited to see The Very Sexy Santa here in the flesh," Michelle said with her hand raised in front of her, "but the policies of The Parnell Court Shopping Centre do not allow for public nudity."

"Who gives a shit?" came a call from the crowd. "Get it off! Show us your meat and two veg! Let's see that pussy-pounder!"

"Ladies, The Very Sexy Santa is eager to please, and you know he has no problem with nudity," Michelle said in a placating tone, "but we're just not allowed to do that for you today. My apologies, but it just won't be happening. Your requests to see The Very Sexy Santa's penis and testicles will be fruitless. I'm very sorry."

"What about his bum?" screamed another woman. "Surely we can see his bum?"

"No, I'm afraid his buttocks must remain covered too," Michelle said curtly. "I'm sorry...but make sure to get online and purchase the 'Naughty' version of the 'Very Sexy Santa All Year-Round' calendar. Then you'll really see everything!"

There were loud, aggressive groans and booing, but the women seemed to at least accept that it wasn't our fault, and that there wasn't much we could do about it. The possibility of a nudity-deprived riot seemed to have ebbed back substantially. Trust me, I would have happily dropped my shorts and hung my cock in a heartbeat, but I didn't want to get arrested or dragged off by security.

In consolation, I ran through some poses with even more enthusiasm, making my muscles pop and bounce as much as I could, sweat beading down my face and chest. I was really getting off on the attention and appreciation...for an exhibitionist like me, it was a very, very hot scene indeed.

To a barrage of loud cheering, I waved again to the crowd of excited women, and then stepped down from the small platform. I resumed my seat behind the table, and another calendar was instantly thrust in front of me. I looked up and saw two twenty-something blondes smiling down at me.

"That was so hot," said one of them. "You looked so sexy up there. I reckon I saw the outline of your dick through your little shorts. I saw it move, I swear. It bobbled around a bit in there!"

"Oh," I muttered. "Um..."

"I saw it too," the other girl said with a giggle. "It's like you've got a snake down your pants...a snake that wants to get out!"

"Have you got undies on?" asked the first girl.

"Um, yeah, I do," I said. "Okay...do you want your calendars signed?"

"I'd like you to sign it with your jizz," the first girl said.

"Unfortunately, I can't do that for you, but I can sign them with a marker," I responded.

"Okay, that'll have to do then," the first girl said. "Boring!"

I quickly signed the calendars for the two women, and they moved on, winking at me dirtily over their shoulders. One licked her lips, and then blew me a lurid kiss, while the other waggled her tongue suggestively. I quickly imagined what it would be like to find myself in the clutches of these two sexed-up women and shivered with the very sexy thought.

I signed calendar after calendar. Most of the women just looked at me shyly, obviously too reserved to make conversation or flirt with me, but others were naughtier. Some asked me what I was doing when I finished up, while some made veiled comments about going home to masturbate while thinking about me. I knew that I'd be jerking off myself the second I got inside my front door.

"Oh, hello," said a tall, strikingly attractive brunette with an instantly noticeable set of rather large breasts...not huge, but far bigger than average. "And how are you today?"