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This festive vignette contains M/Solo and M/M lewdness in ever-increasing abundance, involving consenting adults. :3

Xander the Roo belongs to me. Please ask before using hiiim. :3

[center][b][u]The Twelve Lewds of Christmas[/u][/b][/center]

As soon as Xander awoke, he heard himself talking. It was a strange feeling, but not one that the kangaroo was entirely unaccustomed to. In the past, just a couple of times but still notably enough to remember, he recalled waking up from a bad dream with words poised on his lips to cry out in fear or anger. This felt similar, except rather than any sort of anxiety or other negative emotion accompanying them, there was only one thing he could feel washing over him in that moment.

Arousal.

"[i]For the first lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

What?

What had he just said? The first... lewd of Christmas? And, the author? What author? Had he been dreaming about a book or...

"O-ohh..."

Even as Xander began to query the nonsensical string of words that had burbled forth from his still half-slumbering mind though, his musing was cut short by a feeling so intense that it drew a groan of audible pleasure from the kangaroo's muzzle. Instinctively, his hand reached down under the warm bedding covering his body, and within a matter of moments the male's eyes widened as he confirmed that what he felt as though he was feeling was indeed the case. Regardless of the fact that the apartment's heating had yet to fully warm the bedroom air so early in the morning, he threw back the sheets, and in the ever so minimal amount of sunlight peeking in through the drapes, Xander stared down at his crotch. At his boxer-shorts, and at the not only tented front of them, but the glistening, sodden and darkly stained material while his cock throbbed, twitched, and oozed forth pre-cum in such abundance that Xander found himself wondering if somehow he had started cumming, but his brain had yet to fully catch up and grant the usually intense pleasure which accompanied such a release.

After just a brief while though, after pulling down the front of his boxers and wrapping a hand around his rigid morning wood, the kangaroo realised that what his body was experiencing matched up more or less perfectly with what he'd said upon waking. He wasn't cumming. He was just [i]leaking[/i]. Drooling pre-cum, but so constantly and copiously that its glistening translucent fluids were producing every bit as much liquid as he would during an orgasm in pretty much the same amount of time. The only difference was that after that period of time had elapsed, while an orgasm would end, he just kept on leaking. And leaking, and leaking, and...

"O-ohhhhhh, f-fuck..."

And even though he wasn't cumming, he was still every bit as horny, every bit as sensitive as the kangaroo felt would have been necessary to [i]naturally[/i] end up in such a needy, leaky state. Thus, it wasn't long before Xander felt compelled to start jerking off. To more actively and purposefully pump his cock within his hand, only to feel himself rising oh so rapidly towards even greater heights of bliss as his erection drooled and spurted all the more obscenely.

"A-ahh! Yessss, oh god I... I'm gonna..."

He couldn't have been masturbating for more than thirty seconds before the pleasure of the act consumed him. His toes curled. His thick tail twitched and thumped against the bed beneath him as he fell onto his back, only to arch it, to thrust his hips upward, and to pump his cock with frenzied desperation as cum began to erupt forth in abundance even greater than the unrelenting volumes of his pre, as though that quantity of liquid had simply been added to every last spurt of his climax's substantial release. The kangaroo moaned and huffed and whimpered as he painted his bare chest and open mouthed, glassy eyed face with streaks of cum for close to another half a minute, before finally, wheezing and grinning goofily, he sank back to the bed in satisfaction and...

"W-wha... nnnhh... oo-oohh god... h-how?"

Except, rather than actually feeling any sense of satisfaction or comfortable, cosy post-orgasmic fatigue, all Xander actually felt in the wake of that orgasm was... horny. Horny enough that even when he released his hand from his cock, it didn't stop twitching and jerking, and horny enough that even though he had just stopped cumming, his cock started to dribble, and ooze, and leak exactly as much pre-cum as it had been leaking before.

"Fuck, I... I'm making such a mess..."

Xander gurgled. His belly, midriff and thighs were already coated in pre-cum, after all, and the fur of his crotch matted even more so thanks to the time his cock had spent trapped and leaking into his underwear. There were stains on the sheets around him, and of course the still glistening, sticky ribbons of his cum painting more of his body alongside the pre. It was already the kind of mess he'd need to take a shower and do a load of laundry to clean up, but still his balls seemingly weren't done with their heightened productivity seemingly triggered by whatever dream or subconscious fantasy the kangaroo had been lost in prior to waking up. And so, until they were well and truly emptied out, which Xander was sure wouldn't take much longer given how much he'd already produced, he resigned himself to the current situation. He didn't try to fight it. He didn't try to understand it. He just moaned, and shrugged idly to himself as with a rosy, indulgent blush spreading over his face, he testingly grabbed at his cock once again with his already sticky paw, and felt that even though he had cum barely two minutes prior, his shaft already felt not just receptive, but eager, desperate even for him to resume his masturbation all over again.

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Xander awoke with a groan of pleasure, only for his face to flush as he inhaled in the wake of that utterance, and he smelled the thick, obscene scent of sex, of arousal, of cum and pre-cum hanging thick in the air.

That was when he remembered what had happened yesterday. Not just first thing in the morning yesterday, but for the [i]entirety[/i] of yesterday. Eventually he had told himself he was dreaming. After all, what else could possibly have allowed something so impossible and so ridiculously sexy to happen to him, a perfectly normal guy who up until now had lived a perfectly normal life?

And yet, if it had been a dream... why did he remember falling asleep last night with his cock still rock hard and obscenely leaking after an entire day of oozing and drooling pre-cum without pause, no matter how many times he'd jerked off? And why now, after that night of sleep, was he waking up to find himself not just [i]still[/i] leaking, but so relentlessly and helplessly horny that he had apparently been actively humping his sodden, pre-cum saturated sheets and mattress as he slept?

Before Xander could endeavour to more correctly answer any of those questions though, his muzzle opened, and his ears twitched as he heard another spontaneous string of words escape from within him.

"[i]For the second lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

His eyes bulged. Just like yesterday, he hadn't intended to say anything. Just like yesterday he didn't know what those words meant, who this supposed author was. And yet, if what he'd said yesterday had immediately started to happen, then...

"Mnhh-hhaahhhhhhhhhhh!"

Xander let slip a helpless, overwhelmed cry as all of a sudden the steady, delicious horniness that had persisted for almost exactly twenty four hours within his body, a horniness sustained at least in part by the constant physical pleasure of pre-cum drooling through and out of his throbbing, rigid cock, doubled in intensity. Every twitch of his cock suddenly made his head spin. Every time he felt yet more and more pre-cum spilling out of the very tip of his cock, the sensation of it trickling so warm and so slick over the head of his shaft was irresistibly wonderful. He couldn't help himself. He couldn't stop himself. Without even trying to resist, Xander reached down and grabbed his cock, and after just a few frantic tugs, his muzzle falling slack-jawed and his eyes crossing at the raw, unfathomably twice as potent pleasure that wracked his frame, the kangaroo began to wail in unhinged rapture as he found himself consumed not just by the most powerful, most pleasurable orgasm of his entire life, but an orgasm that was unmistakably two times as powerful as any that he had ever known before.

[center]*********[/center]

By the morning of the third day since those strange, impossible things had started to happen to him, Xander was already starting to lose his grip on reality. How was he supposed to know, or care about what was real, after all, when so clearly everything he had believed for the first couple of decades of his life was so utterly wrong. How was he supposed to trust in the world making any sort of sense or following any sort of logical rules, if indeed powers, seemingly divine whims like the ones he'd experienced over the last forty eight hours, could override those rules in an instant?

Of course, after he woke up, he didn't voice any of those concerns, not that there was anyone else there to hear them. But what he did say, to his increasing lack of surprise, was...

"[i]For the third lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

Xander's face burned scarlet. Thus far, everything that had happened was to him and him alone. But those newest additions to the rather extremely modified Christmas poem, that suggested something much more than just him getting hornier and hornier in various ways. And sure enough, just moments later, he heard a firm, steady knocking at his apartment's door. Wide eyed, red faced, weak kneed and of course coated in two days of sweat and pre and countless orgasms that had painted his own fur, the kangaroo scrambled to his feet and, with his rigid and ever-leaking, ever sensitive cock leading the way, hurried to the door. He peered through the peep-hole, and a thick rope of pre-cum painted the back of the door as he shuddered in ecstasy at what he saw.

A moment later he was fighting with all his might to unlock the door and pull it open as fast as possible, and another moment after that...

"O-oh, thank fuck. We need you, Xander. We need you so fucking bad."

Three horny guys; a naked trio of handsomely cute dogs with their cocks already rigid and leaking... though not nearly so much as the kangaroo himself, of course... hurried inside without waiting for any more of an invitation. They surrounded Xander. They embraced him, and turned him, twisted him around amidst them, each stealing a long, passionate kiss and a chance to grope at his cock and ass while they did so. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, the dalmatian, German shepherd and collie dragged the kangaroo back to his bedroom. They didn't so much as blink at the state of the room or the bed itself. They just moaned and panted eagerly as they all tumbled onto the sticky, matted, utterly cum-soaked sheets with Xander whimpering and gasping amongst them, and as one of them began to coat his cock in Xander's pre while lining himself up between the kangaroo's legs, another was straddling the kangaroo and bringing his own ass to bear against Xander's slick, throbbing shaft, while not to be left out the third dog knelt beside Xander's face, and before the kangaroo could watch what the other two men were about to do to him, turned his head to one side so that he could stuff his rigid, needy, knotted cock into Xander's open, gasping, and undeniably eager mouth.

[center]*********[/center]

"[i]For the fourth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

The kangaroo had barely fallen silent when his phone, somehow not out of juice despite the fact it hadn't been charged in three days, nor short-circuited despite the fact that it and the bedside cabinet on which it was resting remained coated in the dried on stains of god only knew how many orgasms, began to buzz and vibrate. He instinctively tried to reach for it, only to blush and moan as he felt one of the bodies surrounding him shift and snuggle up more intimately against his own form. A short while later, the phone buzzed again. Then again. It was only after the fourth message had come in however that one of the three dogs, the collie, huffed and pulled himself away from the horny morning cuddle pile the four of them had formed, to check Xander's phone on his behalf.

Maybe fifteen seconds later, as the kangaroo was shuddering, gasping and about to cum with the German shepherd's own rigid hard-on grinding against his own while the dalmatian made out with him sloppily and playfully, the collie scooted back in and snuggled up against Xander's other side, and whispered teasingly into the marsupial male's ear.

"Someone's popular. Four messages from four different hot guys? Mmhh, don't worry though. I told them that so long as they didn't mind sharing, they could all come over. So... they're all on their way, right now."

Four guys?

Four [i]more[/i] guys??

Xander's eyes rolled back in their sockets. The kangaroo moaned, gasped, and began to paint his and the German shepherd's already pre-cum glazed bellies with thicker, even more copious ropes of hot, fresh cum. And as he did so, losing himself to the thought of even more men joining this already impossibly hot and endless orgy, he heard the three dogs clamouring playfully over who was going to fuck him next, so they could all get at least one more turn before they had to share him with anyone else.

[center]*********[/center]

"[i]For the fifth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... five tyrant lizard kings! four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

Even before the five burly, toothily grinning tyrannosaurus rex guys joined the party, Xander and the others had already abandoned the bed and turned the entirety of his bedroom floor into a sea of cushions, pillows and blankets, most of it already matted and stained copiously with the kangaroo's pre and his actual cum, not to mention a considerable quantity from his various visitors, too. By that point, Xander was having a non-stop train run on his own body. Most of the time he was on his knees, either on all fours or with his head resting on a pillow and his ass propped up, while man after man, cock after cock ravaged him to his next almighty, all consumingly pleasurable peak. No matter how often he came though, and no matter how many rigid cocks ploughed his prostate one after the next after the next, his cock kept on throbbing and leaking pre, ever-needy, every erect, ever insatiable. And so, even when one or two or three of the men with him were spent and in need of a break, there were others to take their place. The three dogs, the four booty-callers, all guys that Xander had slept with before as casual one night stands even if he hadn't seen them for months or years, and now the five huge, well hung theropod dinosaurs too. They all wanted a piece of him, and no matter how hard, how long, how much they fucked the kangaroo, he was always, always, [b]always[/b] left wanting just a little more.

[center]*********[/center]

"[i]For the sixth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... six donkeys braying, five tyrant lizard kings! Four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

The bedroom had already been full of the sounds of pleasure, the various other guys having long since started to fool around with each other when Xander didn't have a hole or other intimate appendage to spare. When half a dozen new equine guys joined the orgy though, and made it abundantly clear that each and every one of them were incredibly vocal in both giving and receiving pleasure, the whole apartment echoed with the sounds of their bliss alongside all the other guys, Xander included, who were emboldened to be louder and more shameless in their own boundless, repeated ecstasy.

By that point, Xander had stopped trying to rationalise anything. He accepted this was real. He accepted that there was some sort of omnipotent entity out there, perhaps a god figure, perhaps a literal author writing his very being into creation. He didn't know, and frankly, he simply didn't care.

All that mattered was that for the last six days he hadn't ate, used the bathroom, and for at least half of that time, he hadn't slept for a single second, and yet he was fine. No. He was so, so much more than fine. A buff t-rex was cumming in his mouth. A cute mouse he'd spent the night with three years ago was sucking his cock, and behind him, while a donkey whinnied and brayed and spurted thick ropes of cum deep into his asshole, a row of about five other guys knelt behind the donkey, all fucking each other in a blissful, horny conga-line with the kangaroo at its head.

Xander didn't care what was happening. He didn't care why or how. What mattered was that it [i]was[/i] happening, and that to his delight, there were still at least six more days of this ever increasing pleasure to go.

[center]*********[/center]

"[i]For the seventh lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... seven muzzles rimming, six donkeys braying, five tyrant lizard kings! Four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

Glassy eyed, cum painting his body from countless angles, Xander lay flat on his back grunting and moaning as not only did he cum hands free from the eager, probing, twisting tongue working his asshole, but surrounding him, six more of the marathon festive orgy's attendees yelped and roared and brayed and squeaked and moaned as they too were tongue-fucked from behind by the newest arrivals, until their own cocks were spasming and spurting thick ribbons of cum all over the already cum-doused and pleasure-drunk kangaroo writhing in their midst.

[center]*********[/center]

"[i]For the eighth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... eight prostate milkings, seven muzzles rimming, six donkeys braying, five tyrant lizard kings! Four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

Xander's wailing cries rose above all the others in the room combined as the day's single new arrival knelt behind him, and with a glistening, lubricated and latex glove clad hand, the grinning fox did things to Xander's prostate that none of the myriad cocks previously present had been able to achieve even when more than one of them at the same time had been stuffed inside the kangaroo's ass. It was no exaggeration to say that Xander truly could not stop cumming. The pressure. The technique. The calm, almost gentle way the fox's fingers massaged and manhandled that sweet spot inside his back passage. Unlike anything else thus far, it utterly broke Xander. It left him a grunting, twitching, practically sobbing, cumming mess of a man drooling saliva from his open mouth almost as openly and abundantly as the cum spraying in almost ceaseless gouts from his untouched but rapidly throbbing cock.

He came, of course, eight times without pause, and only then did the fox's fingers withdraw. But of course, just like with all the others, he didn't leave after having fulfilled his part of the poem just once. Instead, it wasn't long before Xander heard another voice starting to scream and sob and plead frantically for more as the fox went to work on them instead, and even as the kangaroo glanced over to watch, grinning and trembling in renewed excitement of his own, he could feel more men crawling over and grabbing, groping at his body, each ready to be the next one to fuck him, to rim him, to pleasure him however they pleased until the kangaroo's next turn with the magic fingered fox came round.

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"[i]For the ninth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... nine hours cumming, eight prostate milkings, seven muzzles rimming, six donkeys braying, five tyrant lizard kings! Four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

Cum flooded down the stairs and the elevator shaft of the apartment building. It oozed and flowed down the corridor, and bubbled abundantly out from under the door of one apartment in particular with very good reason.

From eight AM, the time at which the words of the new day slipped from Xander's muzzle, until five PM, there was no respite. Not a split-second's pause not just for the kangaroo himself, but every single person who had been there in his home, without range of the sound of his voice speaking new reality into being. For all that time, for precisely nine hours, they all came. They all constantly, unrelentingly, unstoppably came. They half lay, half splashed around in a swampy mass of cum almost a foot deep within Xander's bedroom, thrashing, howling, bellowing, yelping, grinding, humping, fucking. Of course it didn't matter whether they rutted one another as hard and fast as they could, or lay perfectly still and solitary, they all came just as long and just as hard regardless. But whether they needed to or not, every single one of them revelled in the opportunity to push their pleasure and that of those around them to even more obscene and over-indulgent extremes. And when five PM arrived and their boundless multi-orgasmic rapture drew to its end, they gasped, they whimpered, they looked around at one another's totally white, dripping, cum coated bodies, and did the only thing they possibly could under the circumstances.

They started fucking even more greedily and wildly than before, as though hoping to coax themselves back into that same state before eight AM when the new day began, and a fresh new twist accompanied all that had come before, including presumably [i]another[/i] nine hours of mind-bending, all consuming, ceaselessly glorious orgasm.

[center]*********[/center]

"[i]For the tenth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... ten hours cumming, nine hours cumming, eight prostate milkings, seven muzzles rimming, six donkeys braying, five tyrant lizard kings! Four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

As Xander's eyes widened at the sound of his own voice, everyone stopped. Everyone stared.

That wasn't how the rest of the poem had gone. Thus far, it had at least tried to stick to the cadence of the original, far more clean and innocent version. The tenth day was... what, pipers piping? So, shouldn't the thing that happened have at least referenced, or rhymed with some part of that?

"[i]Look, I couldn't think of anything fun that rhymed with piping, okay?? Are you really gonna complain? It's not like I'm just tacking an extra hour on. It's cumulative. So, stop poking holes in my logic as the omnipotent author of this story, and start cumming your brains out for the next [b]nineteen[/b] hours already.[/i]"

Xander's voice rang out, though this time, more so than ever, it was abundantly clear that it wasn't really Xander himself speaking. Before anyone could question it though, not that anyone really could, or frankly had any desire to, cum began to dribble from every single cock in the room. Not pre, but full on cum, regardless of how close they had been to climax beforehand. Those dribbles became spurts as the many cocks present in the kangaroo's already cum-coated, utterly wrecked bedroom began to lurch and throb, and as the many men began to cry out in unrestrained, unhinged ecstasy, and to fling themselves greedily at one another, all questions regarding the author's logic or lack of creativity were forgotten... totally and completely forgotten... in favour of just revelling in the first few moments of their non-stop nineteen hour cumfest.

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"[i]For the eleventh lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... look it doesn't rhyme or fit the meter at all but how about we round things out with another five hours cumming, ten hours cumming, nine hours cumming, eight prostate milkings, seven muzzles rimming, six donkeys braying, five tyrant lizard kings! Four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

Five, plus ten, plus nine.

No-one had the brain power to do that simple mathematical addition, because they were too busy cumming. Cumming as they would be for the next twenty four hours, until the next twenty four hours began.

Did they realise? Did they know they wouldn't have a single non-orgasmic moment that day?

Whether they knew it or not of course was rather irrelevant, since right then and at any given instant throughout the day, each member of the orgy was simply revelling in the ecstasy of that individual moment. The pleasure of their ceaseless orgasm. The equal passion and hunger of the men around them, the only others in the entire world who could possibly know just how incredible they were feeling. And of course, at the centre of it all, the man at least somewhat responsible for all that pleasure, since it was him the very creative, original and by the way rather cute in an ambiguous '[i]I'm an enby blob don't actually perceive me[/i]' kind of way, rabbit author had bestowed all of this pleasure upon.

Xander lay surrounded by hot guys. Hot, cumming, yelping, screaming, braying, grunting, fucking guys. He grinned a dumb, mindlessly goofy grin as his already formless, dripping white body sloshed and thrashed and splashed within the veritable lake of cum surrounding them all, and beyond wordless incoherent cries, he didn't say a single word, nor even form a single clear thought that entire day, until...

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"[i]For the twelfth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me... huh, that's weird. Pipers Piping was the original? Wasn't that what I used for ten? I always thought twelve was 'lords a leaping', though goodness knows how I'd rhyme something lewd with that. Seeping? Ew. Creeping? Peeping? Nope, not my vibe. Maybe something with Lords instead? Gourds? Oooh sexy pumpkins that you carve a hole in and fuck, is that anything? Wait, shit, this is a Christmas story not a Halloween one. Uhhh... oh, okay! How about this! A last minute pivot to wholesomeness in the midst of extremely lewd sex! That's a Jeeves classic! Sooo... for the twelfth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me, a sense of peace, cosiness and comfort to last the entire holiday season, surrounded by like-minded lovers who want nothing more than to cuddle up and thank me for everything I've shared with them already...[/i]"

Amidst the ruined, cum dripping mess of Xander's bedroom, the prostate milking fox with his latex glove, the seven oral ass-loving guys, the six donkeys, five T-rex', four past lovers of the kangaroo, three dogs, and of course the kangaroo himself, all cuddled, and smooched, and beamed as they revelled in the sense of warmth and cosiness and seasonal cheer that spread through all their hearts so sweetly and wholesomely.

OH! But also...

"[i]...another five hours cumming, ten hours cumming, nine hours cumming, eight prostate milkings, seven muzzles rimming, six donkeys braying, five tyrant lizard kings! Four booty calls, three horny men, two times the pleasure and a cock that won't stop leaking pre.[/i]"

Mid-cosy snuggles and affectionate smooches, eyes bulged. Cocks lurched. Balls tightened. Suddenly and explosively, the room erupted into unrelenting orgasmic pleasure once again for one last, gloriously and boundlessly orgasmic festive day. Xander gurgled as a spurting donkey cock stuffed itself into his muzzle. His eyes crossed as a certain fox totally ignored his own gloved paw and pressed his knotted cock into the marsupial's already obscenely well fucked, cum dripping and stretched out asshole, and as with their own cocks already cumming at least three other guys tried to simultaneously lean forward and start sucking and licking at the kangaroo's own copiously spurting cock, a single curious, pleasure-wracked thought crossed Xander's mind.

If the author had already gone so far off the rails from the original poem... why did he have to stop at twelve days at all?

Good question, Xander. Why indeed.

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"[i]For the thirteenth lewd of Christmas, the author gave to me...[/i]"

By Jeeves