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Santa Cap

By: Winemaker



She was drop-dead gorgeous, tall and lanky, jeans spray-painted on, and a pale yellow top that left her tan tummy exposed, and her nipples poking. On her head, she had one of those Santa caps. I was walking into Starbucks, slowly, as it was late afternoon, about a week before Christmas, and I was dragging. The morning had been very busy, and this was my first break of the day. I had parked the car in the only space I could find, which was on the other side of the world, and was slowly hiking toward a double espresso reward. She came up from behind me, strutting proudly along, passed me by, and was heading into the same shop. I was startled a bit and must have yelped softly, as she turned slightly, gave me a beautiful smile, and apologized for not warning me that she was there. I smiled in turn, waved her on, and admired the view as we marched forward.

Once inside, she ordered one of those holiday specials- pumpkin spice or something like that. I ordered mine, and we both stepped over to the other end of the counter to await our drinks. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She glowed. How can I explain that better? There was just this remarkable aura about her that was incredibly attractive, and yet, she appeared to be actually quite pleasant- not the slightest bit haughty or bitchy. There just aren't many like that walking around in the real world, at least not in mine. She was the highlight of the day.

Of course, I was thinking that it would be incredible to have a woman like that, but at my age, and my shape, I knew that was never going to happen! I think she had probably had a lot of guys tell her this before, but I didn't care. It wasn't real creative, but I was just being honest, not trying to score. I hoped that she would take the compliment and perhaps it would brighten her day. I leaned a bit toward her and said, "Pardon me, please don't think I'm hitting on you- I'm not. I would like to just give you a compliment, okay?" She raised her eyebrow and smiled again. "You are beautiful. I can't remember ever seeing anyone quite like you. There, I said it, and I hope you are not offended. I hope you have a delightful afternoon." Then, I grabbed my coffee, turned and headed outside.

I got to my car, hopped in, and headed back up to the office. As I was driving, I noticed the car behind me flash its lights at me, and then pull alongside at the next stop. It was her.

I rolled down my window, as she opened hers. She gave me one of those blazing grins, and said, "Follow me."

With that, she pulled ahead, cut in front of me, and then made a right turn at the next street. I wasn't quite sure what to do, but before I realized it, I had signaled and made the same turn. She drove steadily across the river, and then headed into a large condo community. I parked next to her car. She had already jumped out, and came around to my driver's side window, as I shut off the engine. 

"What you told me at Starbucks, was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I know you weren't trying to be cool, and you just sounded so sweet. I decided I wanted to return the compliment. Come on inside." So once again, I had the pleasure of watching those amazing legs stride ahead of me towards her condo. She unlocked the door, and motioned me inside. She asked me to sit down on the sofa, and that she would be back in a minute. When she entered the room, I glanced up to see her standing there stark naked- except for that Santa cap. She laughed at my reaction- I'm sure my eyes were bugging out, and I could hardly breathe! She closed the shade, which darkened the room, and then danced slowly around lighting candles everywhere. Now the room had a deep, rich glow, and she paused, with her arms crossed in front of her.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "I was going to put on something soft and sexy, and then I thought it would be fun to just walk out here and dance my bare ass around the room. So... are you okay?" She laughed again, and gave me this big grin, tossing the tail of the Santa cap back over her shoulder. 

I still wasn't quite sure what to make of all this, but as I sat there pondering my good fortune, she began to slowly dance again, sensuously moving back and forth across the room in front of me. She reached down, and flipped on her sound system, and the room filled with music. She found the beat, and closed her eyes, her body moving in time. At first, the dance was almost a ballet, then more modern, but it became increasingly more erotic. She kept her eyes closed, but her hands traced her body, moving slowly down her chest, across her breasts, and her stomach. She turned, arched her back, and spread her legs. Her beautiful pussy glistened as she fingered herself. I stared at her, drinking up every detail, as my eyes moved from her feet, up her firm legs, to her very tight, rounded ass, and that shaved pussy. I am not a stud, and have only had a few women in my life, none who chose to shave, so seeing this smooth, shaved pussy in real life took my breath away. My mouth was dry, and I could feel my prick growing very hard. She was like an adult fairy tale, this nymph dancing in front of me, touching herself, smiling, and lost in the moment.

She opened her eyes, moved close to me, took her hands and lifted my chin, as she brought her pussy to my lips. "Would you like to taste me?" she asked. I leaned into her as she opened her legs, and brought her center to my mouth. She tasted like cinnamon! I must have looked surprised, as she laughed again at my reaction. "I thought you'd like that." she said. "Now, let's get you out of those clothes..."

As I stood up, she moved close, rubbing her breasts against my chest, her mouth meeting mine in a delicious kiss. She kissed me deeply, and then kissed me again. Her hands moved around my waist, then across my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. She stroked my shoulders, removed my shirt, and began to undo my belt and unzip my pants. She said, "Hold still." Then she moved behind me, pressing her front to my back, as she reached around me, pushed my pants down, and gently stroked my hard cock. I kicked off my shoes, and stepped out of my pants, turning to meet her face to face. She leaned up and kissed me again, this time her tongue plunged into my mouth, as her hands reached between us, and grasped my cock. She stroked me and tongued me. I reached to her and found her wet pussy, rubbing her clit, and running my finger inside her, back and forth. She clamped tightly onto my finger with her pussy and came, a small shudder running through her body. She moaned softly and her lips attacked mine in a frenzy of pleasure. I was getting close, so pulled her away to calm down a bit. She smiled at me differently this time; it was not the bright, innocent smiles like before, but a smile of a woman in heat, a woman who knows what she wants, and is going to get it. Oh, man, she was hot! 

She walked over to the middle of the room, and got down on her hands and knees, pointing her pussy up in the air right at me. "Come here now. I want you in me now. I want to feel your hard cock in me now." That was a picture I won't forget, her wagging her ass at me, her breasts dangling down, and still wearing that Santa cap. I moved over to her, knelt down behind her, and very slowly, plunged my hard cock into her wet pussy. We gasped at the same time, which struck us both as funny, and laughing, we began to fuck. I pushed deeply into her, and as I pulled out, she tightened her pussy, clutching my cock. It felt incredible. I moved slowly now, savoring every plunge, every pull out, every touch of her pussy along my cock. She rippled inside, which made my cock grow even harder.

As I pumped into her, I could hear her breathing change- she was grunting softly, and making a mewing sound, a small humming that was growing more intense. She squeezed her pussy tightly, and ground back against me each time I plunged into her. I moved in and out faster and faster, and she pushed back, meeting me each time, now growling almost, and suddenly, she started gasping loudly, "Oh, yes! Push hard! Yes! Fuck me hard! OH OH OH OH!!!" and then she was climaxing. I could feel her body quivering as she shuddered in pleasure. She was grinding back against me and panting loudly. Her eyes were filled with pure lust, as she looked back at me, and then she came again. This was very good: I had made her cum twice, and I was still in control, pounding into her, as she was moaning and almost purring. Wow.

She moved forward, popping me out of her pussy, and then sat, facing me, stroking her breasts, pulling and tweaking her taught nipples. She smiled at me again, and then licked her lips. Crawling forward, she took the tip of my cock in her mouth, and began to lick around it, kissing it, and then sucking the crown. She moved more and then took me into her, swallowing my entire cock, her nose pressed against my lower abdomen. She pulled back slowly, and then sucked me deeply into her mouth again. And again. This woman knew how to suck a cock, and she was enjoying mine! 

She paused, leaned forward and kissed me deeply, then nibbled on my right ear lobe. She whispered, "It's time for you to cum. I want to taste you. Cum in my mouth now." She reached down, and drew my cock into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, faster and faster, slurping and sucking me. I looked down and could see her rounded ass, her long, sexy back, and her silly Santa cap, the tassel swinging back and forth as she pumped my cock into her throat. She reached down with her left hand and tickled my balls. She looked up and said, "Now." Then she sucked me deeply as she squeezed my balls. I exploded. It was that quick and incredibly intense. I gushed into her mouth, pumping my cum, and she didn't miss a drop. With each spurt, she milked my cock. I shook as I came, and she swallowed every drop. Finally, my balls empty, my cock slowly softening, she sat back. Her legs spread, she slowly ran her finger up and down, and in and out, of her pussy. What a sight! Santa cap and tits and pussy- and all for me.

"Thanks again for your sweet compliment earlier."

"You're welcome."

"Merry Christmas."

"Same to you."

As she stroked her pussy, she smiled. I could feel my cock growing hard again. She noticed, and smiled again.

I said, "You're beautiful." 

She said, "Come here." 

Santa Claus and the Peterson Girls



It was a snowy and quiet Christmas Eve night. It was around 3:00 am and big jolly Saint Nick was making his rounds around the world. Everyone knows that Santa Claus is used to giving out presents and surprises to everyone who has been good. Now it's time for Santa Claus to receive a special present from a secret admirer. Ms. Peterson on 75th Street in New York City was about to give Santa Claus a present of a lifetime and we're not talking about milk and cookies either.

Santa Claus had just dropped down the Peterson's chimney. Once inside he saw a beautiful rainbow colored lighted tree, with a shiny and bright angel on top. The house looked to be very nice and cozy. It reminded him of his home back at the North Pole. 

As Santa was putting the presents underneath the large tree, he heard some footsteps and quickly turned around and his eyes immediately bugged out of their sockets. The first thing he saw was a pair of gigantic breasts, the size of watermelons, sticking through out of a woman's chest, encased in a see-through white gown.

"Hello Santa," the woman said in a lovely voice.

Santa moved his eyes up and down her top-heavy body. Her feet were bare with beautiful blue toenail polish on. Her legs were pretty thin put got thicker around the thighs. Her hips and stomach were a little bit meaty but Santa loved women with some meat on their bones. For example, Mrs. Santa's fat ass.

Santa however, was still flabbergasted by the sheer size of this woman's chest. Mrs. Santa didn't have big tits. He tried to talk Mrs. Santa into getting implants but he would have never truly been happy with fake breasts. Finally his large, baby blue eyes landed on an all-natural set of breasts.

"Ho...Ho...Ho..." Santa said, still in shock. 

The woman saw the first of Santa's suit starting to fill up with his cock, pressing hard against it.

"Is that a stack of quarters or are you just happy to see me?" the woman joked.

"It's not nice sneaking up on Santa like that ma'am," Santa said with his face turning red and sweat dripping down his forehead.

The woman could tell Santa Claus was a little bit frightened of her. She slowly walked over to Santa and he held still. Santa took a big swallow of air and gave the woman a small smirk.

"I'm Ms. Peterson. But you can call me Patti," the voluptuous woman said.

"Okay Patti. I'm of course, Santa Claus. I was just about to leave when I heard you behind me," Santa explained. "Guess I'll be going now. Have a Merry..."

Before Santa could finish his sentence, Patti had her tongue down his dry throat. Santa didn't bother to try and fight Ms. Peterson so he probed her mouth with his tongue. The feel of her massive jugs squished against his chest and big belly, made him even hornier.

Santa tossed off his gloves and cupped Patti's firm, round ass in his hands, giving them a tight squeeze. His thick beard was tickling Patti as the two continued swapping tongues.

Patti pushed Santa Claus down onto a couch and started to quickly unbutton his suit. Once the top part of his outfit was off, she moved down and untied his boots. She tossed his boots and quickly commented on Santa's big feet.

"Wow Santa. You know what they say about guys with big feet. They wear big socks and have enormous cocks," Patti quoted.

"You know what they say about women with big breasts. They're built for fucking," Santa said smiling at Patti.

"OH Santa! I've never heard such foul language out of any Santa Claus' mouth. I love it," Patti said as she finished undressing Santa except for his large boxers with Christmas gifts on them.

Patti started kissing and sucking on Santa's huge belly – probing his navel with her juicy tongue. She could feel Santa's hard cock pressed up between her big tits.

"Let's take these off Santa," Patti suggested.

Santa lifted up his pudgy legs so that Patti could slide his boxers off. His enormous cock sprang up and aimed at Patti like a cannon ready to fire on command.

"Whoa Santa! You're fucking huge! I bet Mrs. Santa loves fucking this cock," Patti said amazed while running her hands all over his dick. "This deadly weapon of yours must cripple her."

"We fucked once and never again. She says a 12-inch cock is too big for her," Santa said. "That's why I don't have any kids and just those fucking elves."

"Jesus! Who would have thought that Old Saint Nick would have a fucking giant penis," Patti gasped.

Patti could barely grip Santa's entire cock with her fingers.

"Let's get you more excited. It's Christmas. It only comes once a year," said Patti.

She lifted her tiny gown up and over her body. Her huge whopping breasts flopped out to Santa's delight. Patti could see the results on how Santa likes her breasts. His chubby face light up with a huge smile and his cheeks turned bright red. His cock began to throb with thick veins all up and down his shaft.

"Do tell? How big are those bazookas?" Santa asked Patti, who cupped her giant jugs and shook them at Santa.

"36GG -- it's hard finding bras my size Santa. Perhaps your big hands can hold them later on," Patti teased.

Santa continued his jolly smile as Patti got down to her knees and began sucking and licking at Santa's meaty dick. Her full lips enclosed around his shaft, sliding further down his cock until her face was buried in Santa's white, thick pubic hairs. Patti could smell Santa's sweet aroma.

"Oh good lord! I've never had a women go down on me before. Ms. Santa was always a scared little bitch," Santa said, closing his eyes and enjoying Patti bobbing her head rapidly up and down his cock. Her face brushed against Santa's pubic hairs every time she when down.

The sounds of Patti sucking and slurping could be heard throughout her small and cozy house. Santa's cock was covered in thick saliva from Patti's mouth. Pre-cum had started oozing from Santa's dick, leaking down onto Patti's wet tongue. She tasted his sweet cum and was delighted to the taste.

"Mmmmm Santa. You're cum taste like a peppermint candy cane."

Patti continued bobbing on Santa's huge cock while he reached down and took some massive handfuls of Patti's massive breasts. Caressing them with his fat fingers and rubbing her rock-hard rubbery nipples. That caused Patti to moan and groan around Santa's thick shaft.

"Ready for your milk and pussy Santa?" Patti asked in between taking licks at his cock.

"Ooooohhhh yeeesss!" moaned Santa as he released Patti's huge tits from his greedy hands.

Patti stood up and pulled her pink thong down and off her legs. She climbed up on the couch and lowered her wet pussy onto Santa's dick. She gripped Santa's pale shoulders and forcefully impaled herself onto his thick rod. Her mammoth tits lightly brushed up against his hairy chest.

Patti began to pounce up and down Santa's big dick thrashing her long, light brown hair everywhere. Santa ran his hands up and down her back as he watched her giant titties flop violently at him.

Patti lifted one of her monstrous melons and pressed it against Santa's face, making sure her hard nipple was lodged between his thick lips. Santa took a good amount of her breast flesh between his lips while sucking on the nipple. He could smell the sweet fragrance of her expensive perfume while his nose pressed tightly into her tit fat.

Patti squeezed her enormous breast while riding his cock. Santa could suddenly taste a hot steam of delicious milk, flowing down his throat. Patti let her big tit go and watched it being hanged by Santa's lips. She gripped Santa's shoulders and continued to bounce harder and faster on his rod.

Santa grabbed hold of both big bouncing titties and alternated between sucking on them drinking their sweet, luscious milk like a newborn baby from her thick, hard nipples. Patti's pussy completely swallowed Santa's thrusting 12-inch dick. Her round ass jiggled while bouncing off his thighs and her feet were hooked under Santa's calves.

Santa buried his face between Patti's breasts kissing, sucking, and licking at her cleavage. Her warm breast milk was leaking all over the both of them as his dick continued to drill harder and deeper in Patti's moist womb.

"Oh God Santa! I've never been fucked this hard since my husband died," sighed Patti as Santa picked up the pace, sucking as much of her giant tits between his lips as possible and pumping his cock between her pussy walls.

"Oh fuck! Fuck me Santa. Fuck me harder. All I want for Christmas is your great...BIG...DICK!" moaned Patti.

Santa lifted Patti off his lap and positioned her doggie-style on the floor. He got behind Patti and with one thrust, stuffed her cunt to full of his cock.

"AHHHHHH SANTA!" Patti moaned as his huge belly rested on top of her back and his thighs pounded against her firm, ass cheeks.

Santa gripped Patti's hips and started ramming her pussy harder and faster. Her enormous sweaty titties were swinging like cow udders beneath her. The nipples were still leaking tiny drips of milk onto the floor.

"That's it Santa! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Harder Santa! Harder," urged Patti.

Santa didn't disappoint as he started plowing her wet snatch harder and faster. He leaned over Patti and cupping her whopping breasts and squeezing them. This caused milk to flow onto his hands and to the floor. Patti started rubbing her clitoris as her cunt was stuffed by Santa Claus's huge dick.

"Mother?" What's going on?" said a voice in front of Santa and Patti.

"Ginger!" Patti said in a shocked voice.

Ginger was Patti's 18-year-old daughter. Just like her mother, brown haired and all, she was extremely busty. She wore a 38FF cup bra. To Santa's delight, Ginger only had on a large white tee and her mountainous breasts sloped down underneath but stuck out from her body. Her nipples became hard, poking against her shirt from the cold air and Santa loved the slight. It made his cock throb even more inside Patti's pussy.

"Look Ginger. I can explain," blurred Patti, who felt kind of embarrassed.

"Why didn't you tell me that Santa Claus was here mother? It's not nice fucking Santa Claus without me," Ginger said, giving Santa and her mother a small smirk.

"The more, the merrier," said Santa. "This is also a time for giving. If you give, then you shall receive."

Ginger lifted her shirt over her head, revealing to Santa and her mother her huge tits, narrow waist, and glistening shaved pussy. Santa could smell her sweet aroma from feet away. Ginger walked over to Santa and began kissing him. She smashed her massive hooters against his hairy chest.

Santa resumed pumping Ginger's mother with his thick cock. Ginger reached up and felt up Santa's huge, swinging balls that bounced against Patti's ass.

"Be a nice little girl and lay on top of your mother so Santa Claus can have a taste of your nice pussy."

Ginger let out a giggle and said "Okay Santa. I'll be a nice little girl."

Ginger climbed up onto her mother's back and pressed her own back against her mother's. She parted her legs so Santa could get a good look at her juicy cunt and swollen lips. Santa brought his face to her creamy cunt and started sucking on it like a mad man possessed. Ginger wrapped her legs around Santa's neck, pushing his face further into her cunt. Santa could smell her sweet juices while licking between her pussy walls. His veiny cock continued plunging in and out of Patti's soak pussy.

"Oh god Santa, fuck my mom while you eat my pussy!" moaned Ginger as she buckle her pelvic against Santa's face.

Santa's thick tongue began to roll around Ginger's clitoris licking at it furiously. His thick beard also tickled Ginger's pussy and thighs. Ginger couldn't take it anymore and started cumming in Santa's mouth. Her cum also leaked down her thighs and onto her mother's lower back and ass. Santa drunk up as much of Ginger's pussy juice as possible before pulling out of her mother and easing his cock into Ginger's pussy.

He tightly held Ginger by her thighs and thrusted harder and faster between her legs. Patti could hear her daughter moaning like crazy. Santa's belly was bouncing to his thrusting.

"AHHHH SANTA! Oh yes! Oh god! Stuff my stocking!" moaned Ginger.

She wrapped her legs around Santa as good as she could, bring him balls deep into her cunt. Santa couldn't take his eyes of her big wobbling titties and cupped them in his hands. Giving them a hard squeeze and letting his fingers caress them before bending down and sucking on each of her nipples in turns. That sends Ginger through the roof with orgasms and moaning loudly. 

After a few minutes of fucking Ginger, he pulled out and stuffed Patti's cunt back up with his glistening cock. Every 3 minutes, Santa alternated between Patti and her daughter Ginger until he was ready to blow his load.

"Let's make this the best Christmas ever for your daughter Patti. Let's give her some milk and cum," Santa suggested.

Ginger was kneeling on her knees as Santa and her mother hovered over her face. Patti started spraying her sweet milk upon her daughter's face as Santa jerked off his cock. Patti even spurted some milk over Santa's all ready pussy juice shinning cock. 

Santa finally blew his load after watching Patti spray her warm milk on her daughter. Thick layers of cum oozed all over Ginger's face, mixing in with the milk from her mother and the sweat she produced.

Ginger opened her mouth to a mixture of breast milk and cock cum from her mother and Santa as they continued hosing her face.

"How is that for a Christmas present honey?" Patti asked Ginger.

"Great mom. This has been the best Christmas ever. Thank you Santa," Ginger said pleased.

Santa beat his glistening cock against Ginger's face, smearing the milk and cum in.

"You're so welcome Ginger. And by next year perhaps, you'll reach your mother's cup size and we'll have even more fun," Santa said.

Patti and Ginger gave Santa a double blowjob before sending on his way. Patti got to get Santa's next load on her face. Santa left both girls, smiling and pleased with cum dripping down their faces. 

The mother and daughter duo were all ready counting down the days until next years Christmas but Santa promised the girls that he might drop by on holidays that don't even belong to him. Just so the 3 of them can continue their new holiday tradition.



Santa Claus is Coming



Maggie Williams was not a nice person. In fact, she was probably one of the least nice people one could probably meet. She hadn't started out life that way, no she'd been a rather sweet person. Perhaps it was that she was from such a big family that did it... middle child of seven doesn't get much attention. It also didn't help that her family was what most people would consider rather messed up... and she was definitely the black sheep. Not wanting to go to church, doing extracurriculars like theater instead of sports, staying out late... Perhaps it was because her friends indulged her attention-getting stunts, feeling sorry for her because her family life was so messed-up. Perhaps it was just because she thought she would always be able to get away with it.

But now, at the young age of 24, she was separated from her husband and had lost all her close friends. One by one that had dropped off, either because they'd moved away during or after college and she just hadn't felt the need to keep in contact with them, or because of the awful way she treated them. She always had to have a whipping post, someone that she could insult, someone whose life she could try to run because she wasn't happy with her own. Of course, that would eventually drive that friend away when they finally realized that she was never going to change... and then she'd start on a new friend.

Now, it was Christmas time and she was playing on that special time of year to try and get back in contact with some of her old friends. It wasn't really that she cared for them, but she hated being lonely and she hated feeling like no one cared about HER. She'd become a singularly selfish creature, wanting what looked like the perfect life, and she was willing to act and manipulate it to get it. After all, if other people saw her with lots of friends then they'd want to be friends with her too... she just had to make it look like she had more friends.

To her surprise, not one person wanted to get together with her. They all claimed family time or other such crap... HA! Like she'd believe that. They just didn't want to get together with HER. Probably they were all getting together and having a party and laughing about her...

She sneered. Like she was going to let them get away with that. Immediately she got online... she knew enough of their secrets from a few years ago to really cause them embarrassment... nobody made a fool out of her. If they were going to lie to her then she was going to make them regret it.

************************************

After a satisfying week of sending out emails and posting comments on blogs, Maggie was content. She had gotten pretty good at computer hacking, and reading through her former friends emails and online journals, she knew that she'd really gotten to a lot of them. None of them seemed to realize who she was either, although they were all upset - and some of them were even fighting each other, thinking that their friends had betrayed them! Sitting in front of her computer on Christmas Eve, she laughed to herself, very pleased. It gave her an immense sense of power to be playing with their lives like this.

That night she went to bed and fell into a deep sleep immediately... probably the best sleep that she'd had in awhile.

************************************

At midnight exactly, as the clock struck twelve, there was a clatter of tiny feet on Maggie Williams roof. She was so deep asleep that she didn't hear the heavy thud of boots hitting the rooftop, the soft little chuckle of a normally jolly man turned into something less comforting and innocent. As she dreamed of candies, revenge, and power, she turned onto her back, sprawling out across the bed, as in her doorway appeared a tall older man with thick whiskers and a beard. He was wearing an entire suit of red and white, a big belly spilling over a black belt, and in his hand he carried a bag of goodies... not presents exactly for Maggie Williams had been a very bad girl, and even Santa had lost patience with her.

For the past few years he'd considered her past, considered the pains of having neurotic parents, of her divorce... but this year had been the last straw. On what should have been the happiest time of year for her former friends, she had chosen to continue to make their lives miserable instead of actually trying to reconcile. And Santa knew that it was time for this bad girl to get what she deserved.

********************************

She woke up with her hands bound to the headboard, tied with what looked like red and green ribbons, but much stronger. Maggie screamed as the portly stranger loomed over her, his hair face looking sinister in the moonlight, eyes twinkling gleefully. However, there wasn't much struggling she could do as she realized that her ankles were tied spread wide apart with the same ribbons, also onto the headboard... groaning she realized that she was bent almost in half. As she opened her mouth to scream again, the naked older man popped a gag into her mouth... it tasted like peppermint.

"Now, now Maggie Williams," he said, rubbing his hand across his flowing white beard thoughtfully, "You've been a very bad girl for several years now... lying, manipulating, saying cruel things, selfishness... and I've let you get away with it, hoping that you'd change, but this Christmas you've shown me that you haven't changed at all and you aren't going to. And I can't let a bad girl go unpunished, especially when she's been on my list for as long as you."

Maggie realized that the psycho above her actually thought he was Santa Claus and she quaked with fear at her predicament. Would he kill her? Obviously he was going to rape her... but she just wanted to live! She'd do anything! 

Santa shook his head as he realized that he wasn't getting through to her quite yet. Well, soon perhaps. He certainly wasn't leaving until she realized what she'd done wrong. 

"This is a little thing my elves made up for me," he said, holding up what looked like two loops of gold wire, connected to each other in one spot so that they made a kind of figure 8. Turning that figure 8 sideways he popped each loop over one of her boobs, and then pulled on a little string where the two were connected. Immediately the loops began to shrink and Maggie moaned as her breasts were confined tightly, standing straight up at attention like little pumpkins on her chest. Santa chuckled appreciatively and squeezed them as he told her, "This is for all the little lies you've told people to make yourself look better than them."

After a few moments of playing with her bound breasts, which were slowly turning a slight pinkish color, he turned to his bag of toys again. Maggie felt ill as she saw the old psycho's hard dick, he was obviously aroused by playing Santa to her "bad girl". She felt a surge of anger that she had to listen to all these plaints of her "badness" when she hadn't done anything of the sort. Not really. And it wasn't like that wasn't a general enough accusation that ANYONE would almost certainly be guilty of.

Santa pulled out two tight little clamps. Leaning forward his whiskers tickled her breasts as he began to suckle on her nipples, turning them into two hard little torpedoes. Maggie writhed, trying to get away from his nibbling teeth and flicking tongue, to her shock it actually felt good and she cursed the fact that she hadn't had sex in so long. Although, she had never really been interested in sex before with her husband... why was this feeling so erotic now?

She screamed as the psycho clamped one of her hard little nipples, shaking wildly to try and shake it off. Santa just watched as she slowly calmed down, "That was for driving your friends away by saying cruel things to them, usually just to make yourself feel better."

The other clamp bit down on her nipple and she repeated her show of screaming and shaking, to no avail. As a tear rolled down her cheek at the pain that was pulsing in her nipples, she heard him say, "And that's for all the times you tried to get between your friends and ruin their friendships with each other."

Maggie was getting really angry now, the erotic throbbing in her nipples feeding the rage that was starting to pulse through her body. As if this old coot knew what he was talking about! Sure, there were times when she was feeling bad and pointing out her friend's shortcomings made her feel better... but that was only because she was trying to take them down a notch or two for bragging about their achievements! They were just show offs. And sure, she liked being the center of attention... but who didn't? She knew that they really loved her best, if they didn't they wouldn't talk about each other to her. And she was just doing them a favor, telling them what the others were saying... even if she left out that she herself agreed.

Then the old man stood between her legs, one hand on his dick and the other on a leather strap, grinning maniacally at her.

"This is for all the times you told lies to your friends."

SMACK! The strap hit her right breast.

"For all the times you used other people's work and ideas as your own."

SMACK! Her left breast.

"For all the times you used sex to manipulate or punish your husband."

SMACK! The strap hit squarely on her pussy.

The beating continued in that order as she screamed and writhed, shocked by the fact that for some reason being sexually tortured by this crazy old man seemed to be turning her on. And even though she shouldn't have been able to hear him through the screaming and the pain, his voice intoned loudly inside her head, not letting her escape... and worst of all, images and memories flashed through her head with everything he named, showing her exactly what she'd done. And slowly, Maggie started to believe...

"For all the times you judged others"

SMACK!

"For all the times you ignored your friends needs for your own."

SMACK!

"For all the times you took and never gave back."

SMACK!

It went on and on, all of her faults, the awful way she'd treated her friends like a motion picture inside her head. Tears started to run down her face, not just from the pain of the beating - although her nipples were on fire and her breasts were throbbing, her pussy tingling and burning - but because she realized just how lucky she had been to have such good friends. And how she'd returned their love and devotion to her, the way that she'd treated them, and she wondered how they'd stayed friends with her for so long. Then she began to understand why they weren't her friends anymore. Not because they hadn't loved her enough, but because she hadn't loved them, she'd only loved herself.

Santa stopped wielding the leather strap. He could see that she was finally understanding. They were almost done.

Kneeling at her ass, he leaned over and let his pink tongue tickle the inflamed folds of her pussy. Maggie moaned, she was shocked to discover that she was wet... folded in half, her breasts bound, her nipples clamped, and beaten... she was more turned on than she ever had been in her life. Her parents had taught her that sex was a dirty thing, only to be used for procreation, that pleasure was supposed to be spiritual... she'd never really enjoyed sex with her husband. She didn't know why... maybe it was physical, maybe it was emotional... but it just hadn't been good. So she'd turned sex into a weapon, a bargaining chip. 

Then she screamed as Santa's tongue went lower, tickling her pink virgin asshole... THAT WAS DIRTY! Her screams continued as his tongue pushed inside her, tickling the insides of her ass... she was horrified at how good it felt, suddenly realizing yet again the position that she was in. Her belief started dwindling, of course this was just some crazy psycho, SHE must be going crazy to think anything else.

And then Santa pulled up and posed his dick at her virgin asshole, pressing gently against its crinkled opening. Maggie's eyes bulged as she tried to wriggle away.

Holding himself firmly at her virgin entrance, Santa looked her straight in the eyes, "And this is for all those emails you sent out under your friend's emails, all the comments you left on their journals, all the bad and cruelty that you tried to do in this season of Love and Goodness."

As he began to push into her ass, painfully spreading its tightness, Maggie's belief flowed over her. There was no way he could have known about that unless he really was, holy shit, Santa Claus... and she realized that she had been bad, had been awful to her friends, trying to ruin their holidays for no better reason than they were spending it with their families and people who loved them. And not her... who had treated them like crap.

Her acceptance of her wrong-doings seemed to help her acceptance of her punishment and Santa's dick slid slowly and erotically into her asshole, deflowering it with one long smooth stroke. Then he began thrusting evenly, digging deep into her virgin hole. Maggie couldn't believe how good it felt, especially as his fingers pushed at the entrance of her pussy and then slid in, his thumb rubbing against her clit as he fucked her deflowered ass. She humped back as much as she could, enjoying the strange feeling of having her ass stuffed. It still hurt in a weird way, it didn't feel like anything should be back there... but it felt good too... slick sliding back and forth, burying itself deeply inside her. 

Fingers flicked the clamps off her nipples, making her shriek and writhe as blood rushed back into the hard pebbles, stoking the fires in her pussy. For the first time in her life, she could feel an orgasm building as she was pleasured by a man... usually she had to masturbate to reach orgasm, and since she thought that masturbation was wrong and dirty she didn't do it too often. 

Maggie's body arched, thrusting her pink breasts upwards and her ass down as she started to cum, an intense orgasm that ebbed and flowed over her entire body. Dimly she could feel the dick in her ass pounding hard, digging deeper and it just pushed her orgasm up another notch. Then it began to swell inside her and started pulsing, sending jets of cum shooting deep into her ass as she tightened down on it, her asshole gripping Santa's dick like a vise. 

She panted heavily as he pulled himself from her ass, wincing a little. Then he took a medium sized buttplug and pushed it into her, making her moan as her ass was filled up again. Flicking a little switch on its base, the plug came to life in her ass, making her gasp. With a wave of his hand the ribbons on her ankles came loose and her legs fell to the bed, still spread and tingling a little. Inserting a vibrator into her pussy, he turned it on high.

"Merry Christmas Maggie..." he turned to go as her pussy began burning again, stopping in the doorway he looked back at her as she writhed, stretched out on the bed with her hands still tied to the headboard, her breasts bound by the wire, vibrators buzzing in both her holes, "If you're bad this year, I won't ever be back again."

As he left he flicked his hand and the ribbon around her wrists loosened. Grabbing hold of the vibrator in her pussy, Maggie pumped it frantically and screamed as another orgasm overtook her body. On the rooftop there was a clattering of little feet as she writhed in passionate ecstacy, the swooshing slide sleigh runners... and then silence. Except inside the house, where Maggie Williams was still anything but silent... the candy peppermint gag in her mouth was gone long before morning's first light.

*****************************************

That Christmas evening she went around to all her former friend's houses, bringing them gifts - not expensive ones, but ones that she thought would really mean something to them, showing that she had paid attention to them before - and notes of apology. The last house she went to was her husband's... they were separated sure, but not divorced yet. And maybe they didn't have to be. For that stop she had more than just an apology note and gift... she had the goody-bag that Santa had brought with him and used on Christmas Eve.

Maggie Williams was determined to be a very good girl from now on. 



Santa Claus Is Coming To Town



Man hypnotizes twelve women to be his sexy, Christmas elves.

"You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why, Santa Claus is coming to town." Bob sang with the music on the radio. He drove with one hand and sang into a make believe microphone with his other hand.

"Turn that shit off," said Stuart reaching over to push the car radio off button. His temperament changed the mood in the car from Christmassy to icy.

"Gees, Stu, chill. I happen to like that song," said Bob. "It reminds me of when I was a kid and it puts me in the mood for Christmas. My Mom used to--"

"Yeah, well, my Mom used to play that song, too. I hate that damn song," said Stuart glaring over at his friend. "It makes my skin crawl." If looks could kill, Bob would be dead.

"Where's your Christmas spirit?" Bob looked at his stern, stiff friend.

"Where's my Christmas spirit? Ha! Bah humbug! My Mom ruined my Christmas spirit long ago." Stuart's face reddened and his lip stiffened, whenever he talked about his mother.

"Yeah, I remember your mother. She was pretty horrible, wasn't she?"

"Don't you ever say anything bad about my mother," he said pointing a finger at Bob's face in the way he'd point a gun. "I love my mother. I worship the ground she walked on."

"Sorry, Stu. Take it easy. I didn't mean anything by that remark. You talk about her, as if she's still alive," said Bob looking at his friend with concern. "I was just commenting on how terribly she treated you. I'm sure your Mom was a wonderful woman, really."

"Yeah, well, that's all in the past now," said Stu. "That part of my life is over," he said staring out the windshield.

The silence between the two men grew more uncomfortable.

"Let me turn the radio back on to give you some Christmas spirit," said Bob. "This is their commercial free Christmas Carol hour."

"No! No radio," said Stu still tense and raising his voice, while looking over at his friend. 

"I'm only trying to give you a little Christmas spirit, Stu."

"Christmas spirit? You give me Christmas spirit? Do you wanna see my Christmas spirit?"

"Yeah, actually, Stu, I would like to see you participate more in the mood of Christmas." 

"I'll show you my Christmas spirit in the flesh. You'll be shocked by how much Christmas spirit I have," he said mumbling, as if talking to himself, before he started laughing and showing his friend how truly crazy he was.

"I think a little Christmas festivity would do you some good. I think you need some Christmas spirit to relax. You're a bit tense," leaning away from Stu's stare. If he wasn't trapped in a car with him, Bob, no doubt, would be taking a step back and making an excuse to leave.

"Then, bang a u-turn and go back to my house," said Stuart. "Even though Christmas is my least favorite holiday, I'll show you some real Christmas spirit that will make your eyeballs fall out of your head."

"Go back to your house? Seriously? You're kidding, right?" Bob looked at his friend with wide eyed amazement mixed with skepticism. "I'm finally gonna see the inside of your house?"

"Yeah, so? What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal? Are you kidding me?" Bob laughed. "How long have we been friends?"

"I dunno, fifteen years?"

"Right. We've been friends for fifteen years. How many work days is that?"

"Work days? I have no idea? Have you been drinking, Bob?"

"Me drink and drive? Never. I haven't had a drop. My point is, we've been friends since 1995 and I drive you to work and home every day. Let's see, 15 years, 5 days a week, that's 3,600 trips driving you to work and back."

"So, what's your point, Bob? I pay your gas, don't I?"

"Yes, you do pay for my gas, Stu, but my point is not once, in fifteen years, have you invited me inside your house," said Bob with a laugh. "Not once. Not ever. Never did I ever even get an invitation from you for me to decline to come inside your house. Not once did you say, thanks for the ride, Bob. Wanna come inside for a cold beer?"

"Gees, Bob, you live next door. What's the big deal? We have the exact same frigging style and shape house. All the houses on our block are the same. If you've seen one house, you've seen them all."

"That's not the point, Stu. You hurt my feelings by not being more friendly and neighborly. Sometimes I think you don't have a shred of commonsense and common courtesy to ask a friend in--"

"Yeah, well, I'm inviting you inside my house now," said Stuart glaring at his friend. "Okay? So, let's just drop the sensitivity act and drive me home, so that I can show you my Christmas spirit and shut you up about that, too."

"I don't believe it and all it took was for you to hear that damn Christmas song, Santa Claus Is Coming To Town for me to get an invitation," said Bob shaking his head. "If I had known you'd invite me in your house by playing that song, I would have played that song a long time ago," he said with a laugh.

"Listen, Bob, it wasn't that I didn't want to invite you inside my house. I thought about inviting you inside plenty of times, but I couldn't," said Stuart with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

"You couldn't? Why?" Bob looked at his friend with insight and compassion. "Listen, after Susan died, I'm a bachelor, too. I don't hardly keep up the house in the way she did. I have dirty laundry piled up and the sink is filled with--"

"No, that's not it. My house is spotless, immaculately clean. You could eat off the floor," he said looking at Bob. "I couldn't invite you inside my house before because..." Stuart looked off through the windshield, as if he was a thousand miles away. 

"Because why, Stu? I don't get it. Why in fifteen years, haven't you invited me inside your house."

"I couldn't invite you in my house before because of the elves."

"Elves?" Bob looked at his friend with a nervous laugh. "It's a little early in the morning for you to be drinking, isn't it, Stu?" Bob laughed, "Elves? You think you have elves? With you seeing things, namely elves, it's a good thing I'm driving and you're not," said Bob with a nervous laugh.

"You know I don't drive, Bob," said Stu, "which is why I have you for a friend," he said with a sinister laugh. "You have a nice, new car and I really like your new car, Bob," he said running his hand over the dashboard, as if it was his car. "And I'm not having hallucinations. I really do have elves, twelve of them: Donna, Christine, Priscilla, Cynthia, Joanne, Naomi, Rosemary, June, Connie, Andrea, Stephanie, and Veronica, and they all are very beautiful."

"You're making this shit up," said Bob laughing. "You expect me to believe that you have twelve beautiful, female elves living with you?

"Well, they're not really elves in the sense that you think of elves, Santa's little helpers, but to me they are my beautiful, sexy, sexual, and sensual Christmas elves."

"Now I know you're pulling my leg. What do you have twelve stuffed animals, or dolls, or posters of women that you named," said Bob staring over at his friend. "Is that it?" 

"I have elves, as we speak, in my house, twelve of them."

"I don't believe you."

"See for yourself, Bob," said Stu.

Bob pulled in the driveway and both men got out of the car and walked up on the front porch to the front door. This is the first time that Bob had even been on Stuart's front porch. As if walking in a meat locker and being blasted with cold air, as soon as Stuart unlocked and opened his heavily insulated and soundproofed front door, a familiar song emanated from the house.

"You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town. He's making a list and checking it twice; gonna find out who's naughty and nice. Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake! O! You better watch out! You better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town."

As if a 33rpm speed record played at 45rpm speed, the song played over and again, at a faster and a more annoying speed. The song sounded as if it was being sung by Alvin and the Chipmunks.

"Gees, Bob, the music is a little annoyingly loud, isn't it? Now I know why you hate this song. I'd hate it, too," said Bob covering his ears, while raising his voice to talk over the music. "Why do you have music playing, when there's no one home?"

"My elves are home. The music plays for them."

"Why do you have all the windows covered over with black paper and what's that bright strobe light? It hurts my eyes and gives me a headache," said Bob cringing, talking loudly, and still covering his ears. "I feel as if I'm in a Twilight Zone disco."

"Twilight Zone disco," said Stu with a laugh. "That's funny, Bob. You're a funny guy. The windows are covered to protect my privacy from my nosy neighbor, namely, you, Bob. The strobe light is one of my tools that I use to control my elves."

Stuart turned down the music, but didn't turn it off. He never turned it off. That one record played twenty-four hours, seven days a week. He had a dozen records of that same song, just in case anything happened to the record, along with two other turntables and receivers, should anything happen to his stereo. He even had an auxiliary power generator that instantly took over, much like a battery backup, should he lose power. Even though Stuart was never a Boy Scout, he was prepared.

Suddenly, a dozen women, all races and sizes, and all very good looking came rushing in the reception hall from every door to greet their master. As if just having returned from the beauty parlor, their makeup was perfectly applied and their hair was arranged just so. Even though they all wore the same elf costume, they all wore it differently to flatter their assets. Showing a lot of leg, ass, and cleavage, they all stood in a long line together, as if ready for Stuart's inspection and approval. In essence, they more looked like a Christmas photo of the twelve monthly Playboy playmates than they did Christmas elves.

"Welcome home, Master," they all said in unison. Beaming with enthusiasm, happy to see their master, they were all smiling wildly and they all focused their attention on Stuart. 

They were all wearing abbreviated elf costumes of red and green velvet that left little to the imagination. Their breasts overflowed their tops and the roundness of their butts peeked below their short shorts. Looking so much like the Rockettes, what they wore so revealed nearly all that was beneath the costume, that any man who saw them standing there would surely have an erection and so did Bob.

"Hello elves," said Stuart, while beaming a wild smile and looking at Bob and watching his reaction, when intimately greeting his elves. "I missed you Donna," he said walking up to her to give her a long, wet kiss. Donna was a tall brunette, who looked a bit like Julie Newmar, when she played Rhoda in Bob Cummings, My Living Doll.

"I missed you, too, Master," she said maintaining his eye contact, as if he was the only one in the room.

"Hi Christine," he said kissing her. A beautiful woman, Christine was a tall blonde, who looked like Cybil Shepherd of old, when she played Jacy Farrow, in The Last Picture Show. 

"Hi Master," she said returning his kiss and giving him a loving smile after.

"Ah, there's my pretty Priscilla," he said greeting her with a kiss and a grope. She was a short woman with blue black hair with intense purplish blue eyes. She looked like Priscilla Presley did, when she first married Elvis.

"Thank you, Master."

"Hello Cynthia," he said kissing her while feeling one of her big tits and fingering her nipples, so that they both left big bumps in the thin velvet material of her costume. She was Puerto Rican and she could have been Jennifer Lopez's twin sister. It was obvious by his passion and body language that she was one of his favorites.

"Hi Master," she said in a sexy voice and planting her body so close to his that you couldn't slide a piece of paper between them.

Hi Joanne," he said greeting her with a kiss and a hug. Growing up somewhere on a farm in Iowa, with a complexion as fair as a spring, country day and a smile that made you smile with her, she was a woman that looked as American as apple pie.

"Hello Master."

"Hi Naomi," he said kissing her with enthusiasm, while reaching behind her to cup her full, firm, black ass. A tall, black skinned, beautiful woman, she'd give Naomi Campbell a run for the money in looks.

"Hi Master."

"Hi Rosemary," he said giving her a deep kiss, while running a slow hand between her legs. She was a thin women, who resembled Mia Farrow, when she played in Peyton Place, as Allison MacKenzie and later in Rosemary's Baby.

"Thank you, Master."

"Hi June," he said greeting her with a kiss and a long hug, as if they were two lovers saying hello at the airport. Another blonde with lush, long hair, she was just as pretty as she was different looking from all of the other women. 

"Hi Master."

"Hi Connie," he said giving her a big smooch, while reaching around her to cup her sweet ass, before reaching around to feel her full, firm breast. Connie was a dark haired, brown eyed, Italian woman with the hint of a sexy Italian accent ala Sophia Loren.

"Welcome home, Master."

"Hello Andrea," he said giving her a deep kiss. Andrea was a Jewish princess, a real sexual and sensual women. She loved sex. As petite, as she was pretty, if he had a favorite elf, she'd be the one. 

"Oh, Master," she said giving him a hug and returning his long, wet kiss, as if they were alone and about to make love. "I missed you."

"Hi Stephanie," he said kissing and hugging her. Stephanie was Asian and looked a little like Lisa Ling, only prettier.

"Hi Master."

"Hi Veronica," he said giving her a kiss and a hug. A Maureen O'Hara lookalike, when the elder actress she was younger, Veronica was the only redhead in the group and, because of her red hair and bright green eyes, she stood out from the others.

Bob watched Stuart greeting his elves one by one. He stood with mouth gaping open, while staring at each woman, as if he was a starving man or a man needing water.

"Welcome home, Master? Stuart, are you kidding me? What is all this? I feel as if I'm in an I Dream of Jeanie episode," said Bob laughing with an envious look.

He was still cringing from the bright strobe light and he covered his ears from the music that, even though Stuart lowered the volume, the music was still annoying. He stared at all twelve elves again. One was more good looking than the next. 

"These are my elves, Bob. I told you I have elves. Here is my Christmas spirit," he said opening his arms wide and when he did, the elves all rushed him with hugs and kisses.

"Damn, their outfits are nearly as hot as they all are," said Bob. "I don't know where to look. I can't help but feel that I've stepped on the set of the Mormon version of the Stepford Wives."

"Calm down, Bob. It may all be a big deal to you, but this is how I live. This is my daily life living with my twelve Christmas elves. For me, Christmas is year round. I'm filled with Christmas spirit every day."

"If this what you meant by having Christmas spirit, Stu, then I want some, too. Because if this is what you meant by having Christmas spirit, and I believe you now, I really feel frigging jolly. Ho! Ho! Ho," he said looking down at his erection.

"Calm down, Bob. Don't embarrass yourself in front of my elves. Bob, these are the elves, Donna, Christine, Priscilla, Cynthia, Joanne, Naomi, Rosemary, June, Connie, Andrea, Stephanie, and Veronica. Elves, this is my friend, Bob."

"Hi, Bob," they all said in unison.

"Hi elves," said Bob smiling wildly. With each elf hotter than the other and all of them having sexy bodies, he looked from one elf to the other. "What's all this, Stu? Why are all these women dressed as elves? Who are they?"

"They're mine."

"Okay, so they are yours. What do you mean they're yours? Are you somehow related to them all? Are they your kissing cousins from out of town," he said giving Stuart a wink.

"No, they are all just mine. They belong to me. I own them, Bob."

"You can't own women, Stu," said Bob with a dumbfounded expression. "Can you? That's illegal, isn't it?"

"I can if they want me to own them and they do want me to own them. Ergo, I do own them. They are all mine, Bob. These are my elves and this, in the flesh, is my display of Christmas spirit," said Stu smiling, while waving his hand at his elves, as if he was a model showing a display case on the Price Is Right.

"I don't get it. Not for nothing, Stu, but why would these good looking women want you to own them? No offense, Stu, but you're no Brad Pitt and you don't have Donald Trump's money." He looked at his friend with disbelief. "What did you hire them from a modeling agency for the day for a Santa Claus Christmas photo shoot?"

"That's funny, Bob. No, I didn't hire them. They live with me. To be honest, Bob, I hypnotized them," said Stuart with a proud expression.

"Hypnotized them? No way," said Bob. "There's no such thing," he said looking at his friend and then looking at the elves. "Is there? That's just a magician's magic trick. Isn't it?"

"Hypnotism is real and I'll prove it to you. Girls, show Bob your tits."

"Yes, Master," they all said in unison.

All the elves dropped their tops at the same time. As if he was at a slow motion tennis match, Bob looked up and down the line of women, back at Stuart, and then again up and down the line of the twelve topless elves.

Donna had shapely B cup breasts. Christine had a full C cup with pink nipples and areolas. Priscilla had huge D cup breasts. Cynthia had shapely C cup breasts with dark brown nipples. Joanne had perky A cup breasts with pink puffy nipples. Naomi had perfect B cup breasts with areolas as brown as her skin and nipples as black as her eyes. Rosemary had pink perky A cup breasts. June had alabaster B cup breasts that matched her peaches and cream complexion. Connie, a full C cup, had chocolate nipples. Dark haired Andrea had a full B cup with dark nipples, too. Stephanie had perky and shapely A cup tits. Veronica's freckled C cup breasts had pink nipples with pink areolas.

"Wow, two dozen breasts. I'm in tit Heaven. I hit the boob lottery. I've never seen so many breasts at one place at the same time, since I attended that National Strippers' Convention in Vegas, years ago," said Bob with a laugh and suddenly acting like a kid in a candy store. "Can I touch them? Can I feel them? Can I suck them?" 

Bob stepped forward and reached out his horny hands ready to grab two handfuls of tits, but Stu slapped them away.

"No, don't you dare touch my elves. They're mine, all mine. Elves, get dressed," he said.

"Yes, Master," said the girls in unison all covering their semi-nakedness, as if choreographed to dress at the same time.

"What's wrong with you? Have you no decency, no shame, and no decorum? You just can't grope my elves, Bob," he said scolding his friend. "The audacity of your behavior is beyond reproach."

"Sorry, Stu, I didn't mean to offend you or the elves, I mean, the women, it's just--"

"You may return to your chores, elves," said Stu with a clap, clap of his hands.

"Yes, Master," said the elves in unison.

The elves turned to leave.

"I'm just stunned that you have a dozen elves, I mean, women living with you," said Bob not removing his eyes from the elves shapely asses.

"Let's go downstairs, Bob, where's it's quieter, shall we? I spend all my time down here," he said taking a key from his pocket to unlock the basement door. "This is my man cave."

"Gees, Stu, if I had twelve women who looked like that, I wouldn't want a man cave. I'd rather stay up here in the cat house."




Santa Claus Is Coming To Town



"Well, sometimes, I need to have some alone time."

"Seriously, Stu, c'mon, really, what's with all the women? Who are they? They are all very good looking," said Bob turning to watch them all scurry away. "There's not a bad one in the bunch and one they I'd throw out of bed for eating crackers. And they all have terrific bodies, great tits and wonderful asses. I mean, seriously, Stu, I'd share my elves with you, if I had elves. Listen, we've been friends for fifteen years, doesn't that count for anything?"

"No, sorry, Bob, friendship cannot get in the way when it comes to my elves. My feelings that I have for my elves takes precedence over our friendship. Sorry. The elves are mine, all mine, mine, mine," snapped Stu giving his friend a possessively jealous look.

"Gees, when you said mine, mine, mine like that, you sounded like Hitler in a bad Mel Brooks movie," said Bob looking at his friend, as if expecting him to laugh to break the tension and apologizing when he didn't. 

"You think this is funny, Bob? This is my life. This is how I live."

"Sorry Stu, I didn't mean anything by that. It's just that, all this time, I thought you lived alone, no wife, no kids, and no pets. I had no idea you had elves, actually, women dressed like elves," said Bob laughing. "You have your own private, little holiday harem," said Bob looking back at the girls before heading downstairs. "Bye girls," he said giving them a wave and a smile, before following Stuart downstairs.

"Bye, Bob," they all responded in unison, again.

"Right this way," he said to Bob holding open the cellar door, before closing it and locking it behind him.

They walked down the flight of stairs to the lower level of the house.

"Wow," said Bob, as soon as he walked downstairs. "It's nice down here and it's soundproof. I can't hear the music anymore." Bob walked around the cellar looking at everything. "This place is amazing." 

"Yeah, I could fire a gun off down here and you wouldn't hear it upstairs or outside."

"Why not invite the elves down here, we could party and--"

"The elves aren't allowed down here."

"Why not?" Bob looked at Stu incredulously.

"This is my space, my private place, where I come to relax."

"I have the same house as you with the same footprint, but what you've done down here is unbelievable. I could live down here. Your basement looks so much bigger and homier than upstairs in my house. I love it. My house has that lived in, bachelor look, if you know what I mean," said Bob.

"Have a seat," said Stu. Bob sat on the couch in front of the big screen TV. "Wanna beer?"

"Sure," said Bob. "This is a nice setup down here, Stu, a real man's cave with the pool table, big screen TV, high end stereo, pinball machine, and bar. I need to fix up my cellar like this. I'd never leave my house. Right now my basement is loaded with junk and spiders."

"Yeah, well, I never had a wife and kids taking up my time, space, and money, just the elves. This is how real men should live," said Stu with a laugh.

"You got that right. I'd love to live with twelve beautiful, albeit hypnotized, women." Bob looked at Stu with curiosity. "Tell me more about the elves. You live how I imagined Dean Martin lived with the Gold Diggers. Do you remember those dancing girls he had on his variety show? Boy, they were hot, but not as hot as your elves. One is prettier than the next and one has a better body than the next." 

"Dean Martin? Who's that?"

"You don't know who Dean Martin was? Martin and Lewis?"

"Nah, I never watched the Dean Martin Show. I wasn't allowed to watch television. My Mom said it was a bad influence. Then, when my Dad left, he took the television set with him and my Mom never replaced it."

"Not allowed to watch television? Are you're kidding me? That's all I did as a kid was watch TV. Gene Autry, The Cisco Kid, Lone Ranger, Superman, the I Love Lucy Show, Rawhide, Bonanza, Gunsmoke, Have Gun Will Travel, Mission Impossible, I Spy, Candid Camera, and all those cartoons, you missed a lot of good shows and movies, too. Boy oh boy, life was so much simpler, then. Only, I can't imagine growing up without television, just as I can't imagine what it must be like to live with twelve Christmas elves."

"Yeah, well, my Mom was kind of controlling. She was a single Mom at a time when there weren't a lot of single Moms, that is, unless your husband didn't come home from fighting a war. My Dad left, when I was just a kid and she never remarried, never even dated. She hated men, I think. I think she hated me because I had a penis."

"Wow. Sorry, Stu. It sounds like you had a tough childhood."

"What I remember of it was pretty bland. Pretty much I sat in my room and read, which is how I learned to hypnotize people. I was brainwashed into believing my Mom had my best interest at heart, but she didn't. I didn't know any better. It was all about her. Still, she was my Mom, after all, but she was so very controlling. She controlled me with that damn song, Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. She loved Bing Crosby and played his White Christmas every day, all year long."

"Damn, I thought having to listen to Jose Feliciano's Feliz Navidad a thousand times during the Christmas season was bad. I can't imagine having to listen to Bing Crosby singing White Christmas every day, all year long. That's a torture worse than water boarding. You know, come to think of it, we should play Tiny Tim's Tip Toe Through the Tulips to terrorists. Gees, try and say that fast three times. I can't imagine the torture it would be for terrorists to have to listen to Tiny Tim's Tip Toe Through the Tulips. Wow! Knowing that would be their fate, if caught, they'd never blow up anything ever again."

"My Mom loved Christmas. She discovered from reading her fan magazine that Bing Crosby was a strict disciplinarian. She also discovered, when his kids sued their father and testified against him in open court, that he controlled them with a song, Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. Since I didn't have a Dad, she decided to follow in his footsteps, as a way of disciplining me with total hypnotic control. I was home schooled and when my Mom went to work in the morning, she was a secretary for a lawyer, she hypnotized me, so that I'd stay in my room, until she got home from work."

"You're kidding. She hypnotized you to stay in your room all day? I hope your room had a bathroom. Seriously, no shit, that sucks having to live your childhood like that," he said looking at his friend, as if seeing him for the first time. "I always thought that hypnotism was malarkey. I didn't know it was for real. So, is that how you got into hypnosis?"

"Yeah, I read everything there was to read about it from the Encyclopedia we had in the house. A time before the Internet and Google, I'd take all the books in my room and read. My Mom thought I was studious, but I was curious. I was looking for a way to defeat her hypnotism with hypnotism of my own, and I did finally."

"So, you hypnotized your Mom?"

"I did."

"Wow! Really? You're going to have to teach me how to hypnotize women, so that I can get some elves of my own. So, tell me, how did your Mom hypnotize you?"

"Well, she'd take a shiny, gold, Christmas ornament and recite the lyrics of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. After a while, all she had to say really was...He knows if you've been bad or good. The deeper she wanted to put me under, then more of the lyrics she'd recite.

"No kidding. Wow!" Bob looked up the stairs with foreboding trepidation. "So tell me more about the women, I mean, the elves."

"What's your preoccupation with my elves, Bob?"

"Are you kidding me? They're gorgeous. They're sexy. They're hot and I'm horny."

"Keep it in your pants, Bob, because you can't have sex with any of them. I told you. They are all mine."

"Tell me this, then. Are they really all hypnotized?"

"Yep," said Stuart with pride to his voice.

"Who are they?"

"Oh, they are all just hookers I befriended over the years. I did them a favor, really, by taking them off the street and giving them a place to live. If it wasn't for me taking them in, they'd all be dead by now from doing drugs or getting AIDs."

"Hookers? Seriously? Over the years? No kidding. They don't look like any hookers that I've ever seen. They all look so good and wholesome. Gees, Stu, you do get around. I never would have guessed they were hookers and I never would have figured you'd be into prostitutes. Those tiny elf outfits remind me of something that the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders would wear." "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised what regular bathing, loving care, some good food, and a roof over their heads will do for them. Some of them have been living with me for more than a dozen years. Truly, it's the only life they know and they'd never leave me, if they could."

"So, you're holding them here against their wills? Is that it?"

"Duh, Bob, they're hypnotized. Hello?"

"Wow, you lucky bastard. I can't believe you hypnotized twelve hot women."

"Yeah, well, they weren't so hot, when I hypnotized them. It took a lot of loving care, time, and money to get them in shape."

"Won't they be missed? Won't someone come looking for them? Surely they all have families, kids, boyfriends, husbands, sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers."

"Nah, I took care to only snatch the runaways. Chances are they'd never be missed. After a while, family and friends figure they're dead. No one would ever suspect that I'd turn them into elves," said Stuart with a crazy hyena like laugh.

"So, uhm, I was just wondering, Stu, do you think that maybe, I could, you know, party with them? I have some money on me that I--"

"Money? How dare you? No! Out of the question. This is my house, my home, and they are my elves. I told you that they were mine, all mine," said Stuart glaring at his friend. "How dare you come into my home and offend me by wanting to have sex with my, as in all mine, elves?"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Stu. I had no idea you were so attached to them."

"Well, yeah, I guess I have grown fond of all of them. Actually, I love each and every one of them," he said leaning into the Bob and whispering. "I have sex with a different one every night, sometimes two in a night, when I'm feeling particularly amorous."

"Wow! Holy shit. Sex every night. I can't imagine. You lucky dog. So, tell me," said Bob with his hands on his knees and looking wide eyed at Stu. "What's it like to have sex with a different elf, I mean, woman every night? What's it like to have sex with a black woman and an Asian woman? How are they different from Caucasian women?"

"Chill Bob," said Stuart with a laugh. "Well, I think, just from my limited experience with Naomi, but black women are more sexual. They'll get you off, but you'd better get them off first or you'll have Hell to pay. You've never been fucked, until you've been fucked by a horny, black woman."

"Wow," said Bob. "Tell me about the Asian woman. That Stephanie is so very pretty."

"Yeah, Stephanie is gorgeous. Asian women are just the opposite of black women. They want to please their man and will do anything they can to satisfy them. Caucasian women, well, they don't seem to enjoy sex in the way that women of color do."

"Wow! You really are a lucky bastard, Stu, but I don't understand. How do you get them to stay with you?"

"Oh, that's easy. I told you. I hypnotized them in the same way my Mom hypnotized me, which is why that music plays all day long, every day."

"Gees, Stu, your Mom was a real piece of work, huh? She really fucked you up, big time."

"Don't you ever talk about my mother so disrespectfully," said Stuart standing. "I love my mother."

"Sorry, Stu. I didn't realize you were still so sensitive about your Mom. She's been dead for years, but you talk about her, as if she's still here."

Stu turned on the light at the far end of the basement. 

"Dead? She is still here with me. That's my Mom over there."

"Your Mom? Where? Seriously?" Bob looked back at Stu, before looking again at the other side of the cellar and squinting. "I don't see her, Stu? Where? Where is she?" Ready to bolt, Bob stood.

Stu walked over to a figure standing in the corner and pulled off the sheet.

"Say hi to Bob, Mom."

"Gees, Stu, is she dead? What the Hell is that?" Bob backpedaled from the couch and stood by the cellar stairs.

"No, of course she's not dead. She lives forever. She's stuffed. I had her stuffed, Bob. Now, she'll always be here with me," said Stuart grabbing a handful of his Mom's stuffed breast. "Just as, when it's time for my elves to go, I'll have them stuffed, too," he laughed his disconcerting hyena laugh again.

"Eww," said Bob. "Hey, listen, Stu, look at the time," said Bob looking at his watch, "I have to go. I just remembered, I have something, whatever, a lot of stuff, so many things to do. Yeah, I'm really busy today and I'm late to do all that I need to do. Would you mind? Can you unlock the cellar door and let me the Hell out of here?"

"Don't you want me to teach you how to hypnotize women, so that you can have a slew of elves for your very own?"

"Huh? Oh, another time, Stu. Seriously, I really do have to go, if you'd just be so kind to unlock the cellar door."

"But you haven't even touched your beer, Bob."

"That's okay. I'll take it to go," said Bob running back over to the table to pick up his beer and moving closer to the stairs again.

"You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why," said Stu waving a shiny, gold, Christmas ornament in front of Bob's eyes. "Santa Claus is coming to town."

As soon as Bob was hypnotized, he led him upstairs to stay with the rest of his elves.

"Bob is back, elves."

"Hi, Bob," said the elves, as if meeting him for the first time.

"Bob lives next door but he's going to live here with us now. His wife died last year and he has no children. He has no family and is totally alone in the world. He'll be my new chauffeur.

"Welcome home, Bob," the girls all said in unison.

"Thank you, girls," said Bob.

"I'm horny, elves. Who's turn is it to give me hot sex?" Stuart looked from one elf to the next.

"Me! Me! Me!" They all jumped up and down waving their hands.

"I know. I have a great idea. Since it's almost Christmas, let's give Bob a real holiday treat. All you elves get naked and get ready to give me hot sex, while Bob watches."

"That's a great idea, Master," they all said, as if programmed to say that at the same time.

Stu took all the elves in the bedroom, Donna, Christine, Priscilla, Cynthia, Joanne, Naomi, Rosemary, June, Connie, Andrea, Stephanie, and Veronica. As soon as he got on the bed with them, he stripped them, while they stripped him. Once everyone was naked, except for Bob, with elves on each side of him, on him, and under him, Stuart made out with his twelve Christmas elves and fondled their breasts, while they fondled his cock.

Stuart kissed Donna, while Christine gave her master a hand job. Then he kissed Christine, while Cynthia sucked his cock. He fucked Joanne, while eating Naomi's pussy, who positioned herself above Joanne and in reach of Stuart's mouth. He climbed off Joanne to eat Rosemary, while June sucked and stroked his cock. Then, as if flies on food, Andrea, Stephanie, and Veronica were all over Stuart's naked body, licking him everywhere. Andrea kissed him, while Stephanie sucked his cock, and Veronica ate out his asshole. It was a holiday celebration to remember.

Full of Christmas spirit, it was the best Christmas that Stuart ever had. Still full of Christmas spirit, Bob sat in the corner watching all the action, while singing, All I Want For Christmas Are Twelve Elves.



Santa Claus Is Cumming



Holiday winter story, this is my entry, I hope you like it.



It was Christmas break, so Patty invited her roommate, Ellen, to come home for the holidays with her. Ellen was from the west coast, and couldn't afford to go home, so when Patty invited her she was really happy.

The two girls were both in their third year of college, and thought of each other as the sisters that they never had.

They were going to spend Christmas at her Mom's home, her parents were divorced, and her Dad lived in FL. Her Mom had remarried 8 years ago, and Patty ended up with two half brothers, twin 5 year olds.

Patty's step-dad, loved dressing up as Santa, to surprise the twins, he always did a great job, and was a loving Dad.

It was a three hour drive to Patty's home, as soon as they pulled up, Ellen saw the house was all lit up, in red and green Christmas lights. It had snowed a few days before and everything looked so pretty. There was even a snowman in the front yard that the twins and their Dad had made.

Before they could even open the car doors, Patty's Mom and Step-dad, were out to help with their suitcases, with the twins waiting at the front door.

Patty introduced Ellen to her Mom, Laura, her step-dad Ed, and the twins, Mark and Mike, both so cute in matching Christmas sweaters.

As soon as they were inside, Ellen walked up to the Christmas tree, it was beautiful, she thought it was the prettiest tree she had ever seen. 

Ed took great pride in his tree decorating, and was pleased that Ellen liked the job he had done on it.

Ellen thought everything was just the way it should be, Christmas music playing, candles in the windows, and the dinner table was set for a perfect meal.

The girls loved having a home cooked meal, and Ellen felt very welcome, with her roommates family.

Ed put the twins to bed, he read them a story, Twas the night before Christmas, and told them to go to sleep, or Santa wouldn't come.

Unfortunately Patty's Mom had to go work the graveyard shift, she is a nurse, she hated to go, but she would have Christmas day at home with her family. She kissed Patty, and Ellen too, and Ed walked her out to her car, where he gave her a deep passionate kiss, and a hug.

Ed came back inside, and asked the girls if they would like a drink, they were both old enough, both girls were 22. As they sat and talked, Ellen looked at Ed, he was a handsome man, she figured he was about 45, in good shape, tall, 6'1", dark hair.

Ed noticed her looking, he had been checking her out throughout the night as well. Ellen was very attractive, 5'5", Brunette, with the bluest eyes, small perky breast, and a great set of buns.

Ed asked the girls to help him get the presents that they had hidden away for the twins, they were in the crawl space behind the closet in the master bedroom.

It was about 1:00, Patty was very tired, she had done all the driving, and she told Ellen she had to get some sleep.

After Patty went to bed Ed was alone with Ellen, he offered her another drink, and they finished putting the gifts under the tree.

Ellen mentioned to Ed that Patty had told her about his Santa outfit. He asked her if she would like to see him in his Santa suit. She told him she would like that.

About ten minutes later, Santa Claus came down the stairs, Ellen turned to see, he looked awesome.

Ed really played the part, Ho, Ho, Ho, and what's your name little girl?

Ellen decided to play along, my name is Ellen.

Ed sat down, well come sit on Santa's lap and tell me what you want for Christmas.

Ellen sat on Ed's lap, she felt his hand hold her in place by touching her rear.

Ellen didn't think much of it.

So Ellen, have you been naughty or nice?

Well, what would you consider being naughty?

Ellen felt Ed's hand rub her butt cheeks, and she said nothing, she just looked him in the eyes.

Ed squeezed her buns, and still she said nothing, he looked at her and said, oh you are a naughty little girl.

Naughty girls need to be spanked, if you want to get back on the nice list, you'll do whatever I say.

Lay across my lap, you need a spanking. Ellen stood up, and positioned herself across Santa's lap, she was a bit surprised when Ed pulled up her skirt, exposing her red panties, with white trim.

Ho, Ho, Ho, You wore these for me, I see, and without any warning he spanked her hard on her ass. Ellen couldn't believe it, before she could say anything, again, and again.

Suddenly Ed pulled her panties down her thighs, exposing her bare behind, and another smack across her butt cheeks, she could feel the sting of his hand. Ellen now could also feel the swelling bulge that was growing in his crotch.

She placed her hand in his lap, Ed let out a grown of pleasure at her touch, and rubbed his hand on her ass.

Ellen slithered down to her knees and reached for Santa's belt, she unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down. Santa's pole was pointing north, and Ellen opened her mouth wide and sucked his hard cock inside.

Santa had a nice big 8 inch cock, and naughty Ellen was sucking and licking his cock, bobbing her head up and down. She wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft and stroked him as she fed more and more of his big cock deep inside her mouth.

While she was sucking Santa's cock, Ellen jammed two fingers into her juicy cunt, fucking herself as she continued to deep throat Santa's pole.

Faster and faster Ellen stroked his hard cock, she knew he was close to cumming, she wanted his load, she wanted to taste his cum. Santa watched as Ellen took all 8 inches deep, just as he started cumming inside her throat, he could feel her swallowing his every drop.

Santa noticed that Ellen was finger fucking herself, he had her lay down on the couch, he pulled her fingers out of her wet cunt and licked them clean, he than got down between her legs and started eating her sweet pussy.

Ellen could feel his white beard tickling her thighs, but it was his tongue she wanted, he was licking her cunt real good, running his tongue up and down her slit.

Eat my pussy Santa, eat me, lick my cunt, lick my clit, please Santa, lick my clit.

Ed started licking Ellen's clit, flicking his tongue against her little bud, sending her over the edge, she started cumming, and he just kept on licking.

Ed was hard again, he had to fuck her. She removed her dress, and her red and white matching bra, her boobs were perfect. He had to suck on her nipples before moving on to fucking. Again Ellen felt Santa's beard tickle her as he sucked on her pointy nipples.

Santa sat down, and said, O.K., you naughty little girl, sit on Santa's lap again, only this time she lowered her wet pussy down onto his hard cock. She used her fingers to spread her pussy lips apart and guided his ragging hard-on inside.

She was facing Ed, so she could look him in the eyes as he fucked her, and he also could suck on her nipples again. Ellen raised up, and lowered her pussy down, feeling every inch of his hard cock inside her wet cunt, his cock throbbing, as her pussy gripped his cock with every thrust.

Ellen continued riding his cock, she didn't notice Patty, sneaking down the stairs, Ed could see her. He saw that she was holding the candy cane shaped vibrator he had given her last year, she had already lubed it up good.

Ed pulled Ellen's butt cheeks apart, and she got the surprise of her life, Patty pushed the candy cane vibrator up her ass, and turned it on.

Ellen turned to see Patty standing there naked, her fingers rammed in her cunt, fucking herself, while watching Ellen get fucked by Santa.

Ed started cumming deep inside Ellen's cunt, Ellen was cumming now too, she was a bit shocked by this surprising turn of events.

Ed laid Ellen down, and Patty crawled between her legs and started licking Ed's load of cum from her snatch, while continuing to fuck her ass with the candy cane.

Ed just sat and watched as his step-daughter ate his load of cum out of Ellen's pussy. He sucked on his middle finger and spread Patty's butt cheeks wide and shoved his finger up her tight puckered asshole.

Ellen couldn't believe this, Patty had never mentioned anything about this to her, she thought they didn't keep secrets from each other. Patty was licking her good, she had already licked all of Santa's cum out, and now had Ellen about to cum again. Patty turned the vibrator to full speed, and rammed it in as far as the hook of the candy cane. Ellen was cumming, Patty licked up her cunt juices, while Ed continued fucking Patty's ass with his finger.

Ed's cock was hard again, he pulled his finger out of Patty's ass and replaced it with his hard cock. Patty squealed with both pain and pleasure, she loved getting fucked up the ass. 

Santa grabbed Patty's hips and gave a mighty shove, burying his cock all the way in. Ellen sat and watched as Ed fucked his step-daughter up her ass. Patty was on her knees, doggy-style, while Ed was fucking her from behind, his thick cock pulling almost all the way out, before pounding back in deep.

Ellen was getting turned on, the more she watched the hotter she became, and the wetter, she was dripping her juices down her thighs.

Ellen didn't know what it was that prompted her, but she found herself crawling under Patty, until her face was right under Patty's cunt. She stuck out her tongue and licked, her first taste of pussy. Patty dipped her tongue into Ellen's cunt again as well. The girls were sixty-nining, while Ed was fucking Patty up her ass.

Ellen could see Ed's big cock pushing in and out of Patty's asshole, she shoved her tongue inside of Patty's cunt as deep as she could, she could actually feel his cock as it moved inside of her.

Ellen found Patty's clit, she gripped it between her lips, her lips humming as she did so. Patty's orgasm erupted, she squirted her juices, filling Ellen's mouth with her female ejaculate. 

Ellen started cumming too, followed by Santa, he pulled his cock out of Patty's ass and shot his load all over her back.

They kissed Santa goodnight, and headed up to Patty's bedroom, Patty told Ellen how Ed had fucked her last year for the first time, her Mom didn't know, she didn't want her to find out, it was their little secret. 

Ellen told her their secret was safe with her, as long as she gets invited back for Christmas next year too.



Santa Claus or Lucy's Xmas Wish



Note: A silly bit of fantasy. I hope you enjoy it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Jingle bell... jingle bell... jingle bell Rock..."

God I hate that song, Lucy thought as she trudged, camel like, through the shopping mall, laden with last minute presents for nieces and nephews who never really gave a shit what she got them. She rested next to the fountain and watched the dwindling swarm of mommies and kiddies in line to get their pictures taken with Santa. Tonight was Christmas Eve and it was their last chance to give Santa their wish list.

"Ladies and Gentlemen: The Generic Mall will be closing in ten minutes. We will reopen the day after Christmas, December 26th at eight A.M. for your shopping convenience."

I used to love Santa...she thought wistfully. I haven't stood on line to climb up onto his lap and snuggle under that snowy white beard since I was six years old. The thought warmed her and made her feel secure and happy. She could see the Jolly ol' Elf sitting on his gothic throne inside his cardboard castle. He's a good one, she mused. The beard looks real... the belly seems solid... hmm. She smiled to herself and thought about going and standing in line. Silly really. Lucy was over thirty years old, but she suddenly had the strong urge to lay her head on his shoulder and tell him all her secrets. 

She watched Santa ease the last child down from his ample lap and suddenly made up her mind. Jumping up, she entered the red and white "North Pole Castle" just as a pimply green elf helper was packing up the camera equipment. 

"We're closed now, lady."

"This will only take a minute."

Inside was a child's idea of winter wonderland. The walls sparkled with glitter and metallic trees shimmered in the light. Huge mystery boxes with big red bows sat ready to tantalize the eyes of any child seeking Santa's ear. In the center of all this glitz sat Santa Claus in his oversized chair, as real as a wishing star. He sat patiently, as if waiting just for her. 

"Hello Lucy."

"Hello Santa."

It didn't occur to her to question how he knew her name. The magic was working already.

"Come here, my child," he said opening his arms to welcome her.

Lucy climbed right up onto his lap. He did indeed have merry blue eyes and a jolly smile. She curled one arm around his neck and nuzzled her face into his beard. Santa stroked the back of her head sweetly. Lucy stretched her hand over the velvety curve of his belly and gave him a hug. 

"What would you like for Christmas, my dear?" his voice was calming.

"Santa, I'm very lonely," she whispered.

He placed one gloved hand on Lucy's leg and the other around her waist and pulled her closer in a big Santa bear hug. 

"Have you been a good girl this year?"

"Yes Santa," Lucy looked deeply into his eyes.

"Then I have a gift just for you!"

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise," he said, with a wink of his twinkling eye.

Lucy gave Santa one last hug and a kiss on the cheek and climbed down off his lap. She left the Castle and even smiled at the pimply green elf who was looking at her funny. Lucy didn't care. She felt wonderful. Suddenly she was excited about Christmas. More excited than she had been since she was a child. She could almost see those sugar plumbs dancing in her head. She hurriedly scooped up her bags and went home. 

That magic Christmas feeling stayed with her the rest of the evening. She hummed a carol while she fixed a plate of sugar cookies and milk to sit out on a little table next to her fireplace. Silly, really. She thought about putting the glass of milk away. Why waste it. It'll spoil by morning. But, she decided to let it stay. Tradition, you know.

She stripped off her jeans and pulled her bra out from under her cotton tee without removing the shirt, then slid under her covers. Warm and snuggly under her blankets, she absentmindedly stroked her nipple and lazily reached over to pull out her nightstand drawer. Reaching inside, her fingers wrapped around the pink toy she kept there. No, she thought, I want to be good for Santa... at least tonight. And she quickly closed the drawer. 

Lucy thought about sitting on Santa's lap and a flush rushed through her body. He was so big and soft and smelled like cinnamon. She remembered his arms surrounding her and his big belt buckle poking into her ribs. She warmed her hands between her thighs and felt a heat emanating from her mound. Slipping a finger under her panties, she was surprised by how moist she was. She pushed her finger deeper inside and moved them in and out, rotating her hips, warming to the task. She heard tiny slurping noises as her fingers dipped into her wetness. They felt small and inadequate inside her. Spreading her legs, she decided she couldn't resist the temptation to use her hot pink dildo. She laughed at herself, who was she kidding, it's not like Santa Claus was real. 

She reached into the drawer, pulled out her favorite toy, warming it with her mouth and hands before she plunged the full, thick, eight inches into her vagina. This was better, she thought. She pushed her hips up to meet her hand with the magic wand. Her right hand whirled in tiny circles around her clit while her left was busy pumping it harder and faster than any man could have pumped his cock into her. It felt like magic and it didn't take her long to come in waves with thoughts of Santa's hand on her thigh. She floated on the after effects of her orgasm, eyes half closed, savoring the heat in the pit of her belly. She sighed and quietly drifted in the warmth of her big bed.

"HoHoHo!"

Lucy gasped and looked between the V formed by her spread legs, to the door and the enormous shadow filling the frame. He was backlit by the twinkling lights of her Christmas tree in the living room, so she could only see his outline. But, there was no mistaking that form.

"Santa?"

"You have been a naughty girl, Lucy."

"I can be better Santa. Really, I can."

Lucy rolled over and crawled to the foot of her bed, trying to see into the darkness. Santa filled the room with the smell of chimney smoke and cinnamon and she reached out to put her thin arms around his belly, feeling the velvet frock coat and wide leather belt. She felt for his large belt buckle and unhooked it. It fell to the floor with a clunk. Lucy tugged at his pants under his big belly that really shook like a bowl full of jelly. She reached inside his britches and found an enormous hard rock candy erection. She put her mouth on Santa's cock and tasted... peppermint. Her favorite. She sucked and licked it like a big fat candy cane, pulling it into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around it, savoring every bit of it.

She looked up into Santa's big happy face. 

"Santa," she said. "I want to sit on your lap." 

Lucy moved to the side of the bed to make room for the Jolly Elf. The bed creaked as his bulk moved up and he leaned against the headboard, looking every bit like Santa on his throne. Lucy stood on the bed and straddled his girth, moving her coochie in front of his face, feeling his beard brush against her pubis, tickling her. 

"Lick me, Santa," she said as she spread herself open for him to taste. 

She felt his tongue dart into her slit as he ate her like she was Christmas pudding. Her clit was throbbing and his mouth was hungrily swirling around it, making her cream. It was all too delicious. She really wanted to sit on his lap and tell him all her secrets. 

Lucy pulled away from his mouth and slid her cunt along the fur lining his coat, the big black buttons rubbing her clit all the way down his round belly, till she finally found the red velvet head of his rock hard erection. She eased it to the opening of her jelly filled hole then sat firmly down on it forcing it deeply into her, surrounding his pole with her warm, wet and ready hole. 

"Santa... This is want I wanted for Christmas," she whispered into his ear as she ground her hips into him, moving his thick cock around in her pussy. 

"I always try to give the very good girls what they want for Christmas, Lucy. And you are a very good girl." Santa said as he grabbed her behind and thrust into her sending waves of pleasure through out her body. 

Lucy's legs were spread wide around his big belly and she reached down to rub her wet folds. 

"Oh Santa... I'm gonna come for Christmas!" Lucy moaned as her hand franticly worked her clit and her hips humped his prick. "Fuck me Santa," she whispered as her cunt went into orgasmic spasms gripping the hot cock buried deep inside her.

"Ho Ho Ho!" Santa laughed and his balls jingled as he spewed his butter cream come into her hole. 

Lucy curled up against Santa, safe in his arms, warmed from the inside, floating on Christmas magic, and drifted into sleep. Santa laid her gently against the pillow and covered her with a warm blanket. 

He eased out of her bed and dressed quietly. A quiet that only Santa can do. Back out in the living room, he found the cookies and milk that Lucy had left for him by the fireplace. He gobbled them up and drank the milk. Then, Santa gathered up his bright green bag, slung it over his back and laying a finger aside his nose, he ducked under the mantle and up the chimney he rose. 

Merry Christmas everybody.



Santa Claus: Sex Addict



Hi all, this is my incredibly awesome entry into the 

ANNUAL WINTER HOLIDAYS EROTIC STORY CONTEST!

This EPIC STORY is filled with:

HOT SEX

HEARTWARMING LOVE

FREAKY SEX

JOLLY HUMOR

 And

CRAZY FREAKY HOT SEX

Disclaimers: 

All the ELVES in this story are over 18 years old, and most of them are over 18,000 years old. Though they are small, they ARE NOT children!

REINDEER are mentioned, but DO NOT do anything naughty! 

PLEASE VOTE!!! This story is LONG, so if at any point you feel the need to tell me how amazingly wonderful it is, don't hesitate to give me five stars!

But I encourage you to read it all the way through. It is well worth it! The ending is pure XXXMAS MAGIC!

So, WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU

I give you: 

SANTA CLAUS: SEX ADDICT

PART 1 

THE MEETING

"Hi. My name is Kris, and I'm a sex addict."

"Hi, Kris," replied the other sex addicts. I was too dumbfounded to speak. 

Of all the people in all the world that could have walked into the Anchorage Sex Addict's Anonymous Support Group, it would have to be him. 

Kris Kringle.

I don't think anyone else recognized him, but the dark sunglasses didn't fool me. I'd known who he was the second he'd walked into the room and purchased a hot chocolate from the drink machine. He didn't look exactly as I'd pictured him. For one thing, he was taller than I expected. About a foot taller than me, which would make him almost six feet. And he wasn't as fat as he usually looked on Christmas card illustrations. Artistic license I guess... or maybe he'd been working out. And he wasn't an old man, which was surprising. If not for the snowy white hair and beard, he'd have passed for thirty-five, tops. But it was him. I knew it. I felt it in my heart and in my head. Call it woman's intuition. He had the beard, the long eyebrows, the handlebar moustache, the rosy cheeks and the cherry nose. 

But he didn't look very jolly. In fact, he seemed downright depressed. Prior to speaking, he'd sat quietly in his fold up chair, looking around the room. He was probably trying to figure out who was naughty and who was nice. But he needn't have bothered. Other than the facilitator, we were all quite naughty.

Kris was wearing Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt with a silly slogan on it: "Reindeers Rule". Probably something one of the elves gave him for Christmas. It was an odd outfit to choose. It was December in Alaska. It was ten below zero outside! He was obviously trying to go incognito. It's called Sex Addicts ANONYMOUS, after all. But I guess it's hard to be anonymous when you're Santa Claus. 

Kris took a sip of cocoa and started talking in a deep, sonorous voice that made my heart melt. He said he was the foreman of a large manufacturing facility. A year ago he'd started having sexual relations with some of his employees. Soon it became an obsession. He didn't want to get into the details, but the situation got so bad that his wife left him. And now his business was in danger. He had a big delivery coming up soon, but his employees were in full revolt as a result of his actions. If he missed the delivery deadline, he'd be ruined.

The others took his story at face value, but not me. I could read between the lines. He'd done something inappropriate with the elves, pissing off Mrs. Claus... and if that weren't bad enough, Christmas was in danger of not happening at all!

A shiver went down my spine. Christmas was everything to me... hell, it was my reason for living! My first job was as a department store elf, and later I worked at the Christmas store. Nowadays, I sold and traded Christmas tchotchke online. If there was no Christmas this year... well, it was too horrible to contemplate! 

I had to do something about it. I had to help Santa. I had to save Christmas!

After he finished talking, Kris listened politely as the rest of the sex addicts spilled their guts, trying to figure out how their lives had gotten so f' up. When it was my turn to share, I passed. I didn't want him to know about me... not yet anyway.

When the meeting adjourned, I went up to Kris.

"Excuse me, uh, Kris, is it?"

"Yes. It's nice to meet you, Virginia."

"Wait... how do you know my name?" But even as I said it, I already knew how he knew. Santa knows the name of everyone in the world!

"Sam said your name when he asked you if you'd like to talk."

I didn't remember my name being mentioned, but if he wanted to play it that way, so be it, "Oh... right. Well, you're a good listener."

There were tiny little twinkles in his tired eyes as he said, "Sometimes, Virginia. I try to be."

His expression changed for a moment. He looked me up and down, eyes narrowing. I knew that look. I'd seen it on plenty of sex addicts. He was checking me out, but trying desperately not to think about fucking me. I was a pretty little thing. Though I was 29, I usually passed for younger because of my youthful, adorable face. I was skinny, so my c-cups looked nice and round under my thick, white sweater. By black hair was cut short. It curled around the sides, forming points near my cheeks separated by straight bangs cut straight, just above my dark blue eyes. My facial features have been described as cute or even 'elfin'. I inherited my features from my grandparents, who'd emigrated from Iceland. I had their high cheekbones, pale white skin and slanty blue eyes. I kind of look like Bjork, but even cuter, in my opinion. 

"Well," I said nervously, "Do you have a sponsor yet?"

He sighed. It was obvious that he wasn't all that interested in the whole twelve-step process. He'd probably come to the group out of desperation, rather than an earnest commitment to change, "No, not yet. I suppose you're offering to play that role?"

"Sure. I mean, it's up to you. But I'm not sponsoring anyone else right now. We all have sponsors. It's sort of... how it works."

He nodded, glancing impatiently at the door, hoping to escape as soon as possible, I suppose. He mumbled, "I'm not really sure what a sponsor does."

"Well... I guess I'd be someone you could call if you needed to talk about anything. Hey, we all know why we're here. We have urges to... do things that aren't good for us. Sometimes the best way to resist an urge is to talk to someone who understands... who's been there herself. Someone who can talk you down and refocus you on your priorities."

He nodded. "Okay... well, that sounds lovely. But I don't need help..."

I laughed, "Oh, everybody needs help, Kris. These meetings are only once a week. But temptations pop up every day. Every hour of every day, if you're lucky." I laughed. 

He smiled and shrugged, and we exchanged phone numbers. It surprised me that Santa had a cell phone. I didn't think they had cellular service at the North Pole. We shook hands and he walked off into the snowstorm, head down, and hands in his pockets, his sandals crunching through the snow. It was freezing out, but he didn't so much as shiver.

"Virginia," said a voice behind me. I turned to see Sam, the facilitator. He had a suspicious look on his face. "Were you talking to Kris just now?"

"Kris?" I said, playing dumb. "Oh, you mean the guy with the shorts? Sure. We were chatting."

"Virginia," he said knowingly. "He's not Santa Claus."

I laughed gaily, "Of course not! You thought I...? No, no. He's not Santa Claus. That's obvious! Too skinny for one thing."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "And... Santa Claus doesn't exist. Right?"

I felt my hackles rising, but I stifled the urge to slap his smug face. 

"Well, that goes without saying. He can't be Santa because there is no Santa. Everybody knows that. I was just trying to be funny."

Sam nodded, still suspicious of my intentions, "You didn't speak today. Is it because you didn't want him to know about your... Santa issues?"

I thought up another lie, but decided to sprinkle a bit of truth in it. "You might be right. I don't know. When he came in, well... the beard, the white hair... it sort of threw me for a loop. That's why I was talking with him just now. I wanted to feel him out. You know, assure myself that he's not... you know who. And he's not! Definitely not. I mean, how could he be? There is no Santa, duh. But even if there were a Santa, which there isn't, it wouldn't be that fella!"

Sam was no dummy. He knew that I had this thing for guys with long white beards and bellies that jiggled like bowls full of jelly. He said, "Still, you should try to keep your distance from Kris. You've been celibate for almost a year now. You've got to avoid temptation. One slip and you're back to zero."

"I don't know what you're worrying about Sam. Alaska is full of guys that look like Kris. Sure, I feel urges... but I know now how stupid and pointless it is."

Sam nodded and said, "You can't sleep with them all."

"I agree," I said nodding. It was true. I couldn't sleep with them all, and Saint Nick knows I'd tried! "But maybe it's a good thing that he's in the group. I need to get used to being around guys like him without feeling the urge to... you know." I blushed. I may have banged over a hundred would-be Santa's in my day, but I was still basically a blushing little girl down deep.

Sam nodded and patted me on the shoulder and went on to harass someone else. I didn't tell him that I was Kris' sponsor. He'd find out eventually, but keeping it a secret might buy me time to figure out my next move. 

After all, I had to save Christmas!

Over the next few days I resisted several urges to dial Kris' phone number. I'd decided to tell him that I knew his true identity, but I figured it would be best to wait until the next meeting to spring that on him. If I played that card too fast, he might bolt and I'd lose him forever. 

But he didn't come to the meeting. Sam said he hadn't heard from Kris. I knew something was wrong. So after the meeting I tried calling Kris. But there was no answer, it just went to voice mail.

"Hi, you've reached Kris Johansson's voice mail. Please leave a message, and I'll get back to you a.s.a.p."

I left a message, but he didn't return my call. I left a few more messages that week. Telling him that he could call me, any day, any time, it didn't matter. I was there for him if he needed me

But Christmas was coming soon, and I figured he was busy preparing for the 'big delivery', so I wasn't all that surprised he didn't call me back, just disappointed. 

I'd almost given up on hearing from him. Then about 11 p.m. the night before Christmas Eve, I was awoken by the clatter of jingling bells. At first, groggy with sleep, I thought Santa's sleigh was landing on my roof. I thought, that's weird, he's a day early, But then I remembered that I'd assigned a jingle-bell ring tone to Kris's number. I jumped out bed and scrambled for my phone; afraid I wouldn't get to it in time.

"Hello?"

My heart sang, when I heard Kris' deep, melodious voice saying my name, "Virginia. I need... Something is... I need help."

There was music in the background. It sounded like electronic club music, but with bells jingling to the beat. There were also occasional high-pitched whoops that could be heard over the music.

I spoke in a clear, serious voice; just as my sponsor talked whenever I called her in the midst of a crisis, "Tell me what's happening. Are you safe?"

"Yes. I'm fine. I just..." his voice choked up with emotion, "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm ruining everything."

"Where are you?" 

"In the el... at a club, I guess."

"A sex club?"

"I don't know... I guess... sort of."

"Are you having sex?"

"Yes," he replied, his deep voice thick with shame.

"Right now?"

He started sobbing, "Oh... what's wrong with me?"

I could barely contain my excitement. Santa Claus was having sex somewhere, and I was on the phone with him! How great is that?! 

"You need to walk out of there. Just stop whatever you're doing and leave."

He sniffed a few times then weakly said, "Okay."

"I mean it. Don't hang up. Stay on the line until you are out of there."

"Okay. Okay. Sorry guys. No. No, I gotta go." There were high-pitched voices in the background, almost like someone was complaining in some weird language. Sounded Scandinavian. 

Elves. Had to be. 

I heard fumbling sounds, probably him holding his phone while pulling up his pants. Then there was the clicking sound of his belt being buckled, followed by heavy breathing and rustling. The music started getting softer, until it was cut off with the sound of a slamming door. I heard his feet crunching through the snow.

"Okay, I'm out of there. But I want to go back in."

"Don't! Listen to my voice. Don't go back in there. Get on your sleigh... I mean, in your car, and... where are you?"

"The... uh, near my factory." 

"Where is that... never mind. Just... can you meet me?"

"Where?"

"How about... Moose Café?"

"The diner next to the motel?"

"Yeah, that's the one. How fast can you get there?"

"I don't know... maybe ten minutes." Wow, Santa's sleigh really is fast!

"Okay, see you at the diner in ten minutes. Fly safe!"

"What? Didn't catch that..."

"Drive safe, Kris. See you in ten."

I hung up. My heart was thumping in my chest like twelve drummers drumming. He needed my help! Santa needed my help!

 PART 2 

YES VIRGINIA, THERE IS A SANTA CLAUS

All my adult life, people have been telling me that there is no Santa. But my parents have always said I just need to ignore the naysayers and hold onto my beliefs. "Santa is as real as you and I," my mother says whenever I start to lose faith. I live, eat and breathe Christmas. And I've always tried to be nice, not naughty. And every Christmas Eve I religiously leave Santa milk and cookies on the table near the fireplace. And as a reward, up until I was 26, Santa left presents under my tree every single Christmas! Not just any old presents, but the presents I asked for in the letters I sent to him at the North Pole. But, Santa's got a funny sense of humor. I once asked him for a new house... I got that idea from an old movie. In response, he sent me a little dollhouse! It was tiny, but beautifully made, and looked almost exactly like what I'd pictured in my mind. That Santa, what a joker! I loved that dollhouse (I can see it right now from where I'm writing, the centerpiece of my enormous holiday display).

Three years ago my mean younger sister, Stephanie, called me on Christmas Eve and told me something that ruined everything. She said my parents had been flying across the country every Christmas eve, ever since I left home, picking the lock of my tiny little New York apartment, sneaking in, eating the cookies and drinking the milk and leaving presents in my stocking and under my tree addressed, "To: Virginia. From: Santa." Can you imagine my sister telling such a heinous lie? But sadly, I believed her for one hot minute. That sounded exactly like the kind of thing my parents would do. They were crazy for Christmas. I should have called them but I didn't. I bawled like a baby and threw out my Christmas tree. Literally, I just opened the window and pushed it out into the street below. I didn't make any cookies either. Later on, I decided that's probably what pissed Santa off the most. He loved my cookies!

When I woke up Christmas morning, I had a shock in store. There was a lump of coal sitting on the floor where my tree had been. Just sitting there, mocking me. I knew, right then, right there, that my sister was a liar. But it was too late. I'd rejected Santa! 

I was naughty!

That was pretty much the worst day of my life. I fell into such a deep funk over the next few months that I got fired from my job at the Christmas store. When that happened, I had a bit of a... I guess you'd call it a nervous breakdown. I don't have any memory of what I did, but I woke up one day in a... facility. The doctors said I'd been ranting about Santa for days and days, opening windows and shouting out into the snowy air that I was a fool and begging for Santa's forgiveness. The doctors wouldn't let me go until I pretended that Santa wasn't real. But I got out in February, totally cured, and began my long search for Santa. 

Okay... maybe I wasn't totally cured. I sort of went through a slightly confused time after that. One day I saw a stranger on the street that looked just like Santa. He was a fat fifty-something with a big white beard. He had this jolly look in his eye, even though he was obviously homeless. He even smoked from a little pipe, just like in that poem about him. I became convinced that he was the actual, real Santa. Why was he homeless? Well, it was spring, I reasoned. The elves were making toys, and Santa was taking a break. It made sense to me at the time, but that just tells you how discombobulated I was back then. I struck up a conversation with him, and of course he denied being Santa. But that's just what the real Santa would do. He was stinky and hungry, so I invited him over to my apartment to bathe while I baked him some cookies. 

He had no idea why a pretty 27-year-old girl would invite him into her home, but he didn't object. I made his favorite chocolate cookies while humming 'jingle bells' and listening to him splashing around in the tub. He stayed in there a long time, enjoying the hot water, which I guess was a bit of a luxury for him. My first batch of cookies came out of the oven. I was so eager to give him a taste, that I took a plateful into the bathroom without even knocking. 

He was beautiful sitting there in the tub. So fat, so jolly... he had a big pile of suds on top of his head, and I laughed in spite of myself. He looked at me, shocked that I'd walked in on him like that, but he greedily gobbled up my cookies. Then he said, grumpily, "Well, if you're not gonna wash my back, get out."

I took that as an invitation to wash his back. I sat on the edge of the tub and soaped up his back, which was covered with curly white hair. I ran my fingers through it, feeling something... unexpected, stirring between my legs. And no, it wasn't a flea. At least... I don't think so.

When I was done with his back, I decided to shampoo his hair, because he hadn't done a very thorough job. I kicked off my shoes, moved behind him and put my feet in the water. I could feel his hairy thighs against my ankles. He leaned back against me as I scrubbed his hair. It was so snaggled with twigs, it took forever to clean it all out. He must have enjoyed my attentions, because after a while, I saw the tip of his penis break through the bubbly surface of the water. He didn't try to cover it up, so I figured, if he's not embarrassed, why should I be? 

By this time the water was rank, so I emptied the tub and refilled it. I got a good look at his naked body then. Santa had a big belly... and a big penis. Big enough, anyway, to still look big in spite of all the fat around his abdomen. I hadn't seen many penises up to then. I'd always been pretty shy around men. The two guys I'd actually had sex with were fellow elves who'd worked at Santa's Winterland with me when I was 19. They weren't little people, just in case you're wondering. They were just regular guys, trying to earn a buck wearing pointy plastic ears and red shoes with bells. Neither of them were good lovers, but it turned out that making love with me made them realize they were gay. Can you imagine? This happened two weeks apart. My luck, I'm telling you. But I was a nice girl, so I played matchmaker for them, and soon they were fooling around in Santa's house after closing time, with each other, not me.

Anyway, the point is, homeless Santa was the first man I'd seen naked in years and years and years. I found his body intriguing. So after refilling the tub, I kneeled on the floor to wash his legs. They were still pretty crusty. Then I just kept working up higher, and his eyes grew wider and wider. He didn't tell me to stop, so I didn't. I cleaned his balls, his cock, and his ass. I was happy to do it. And he enjoyed me doing it too. He had such a smile on his jolly old face. He particularly liked me cleaning his hard penis, stroking it up and down with my hand on one side and a sponge on the other. He kept telling me, "Yeah, don't stop. Just like that. Don't stop." So I didn't stop. He was Santa. Why would I stop?




Santa Claus: Sex Addict



I was as surprised as anything when a fountain of semen shot out of his penis and all over my hands. I paused for a second but he grunted, "No, don't stop!" So I kept cleaning, and he squirted a few more times, letting out a long croaking groan. Then he slumped back in the tub and unceremoniously fell asleep. I smiled. I was happy that I could give Santa pleasure like that. Maybe now he'd forgive me for doubting him. I looked at his sticky cum on my hands. I sniffed it, thinking it might smell Christmassy somehow, you know, cinnamon and spice, but it didn't. I licked it off my fingers. It was kind of salty. 

As Santa snored, I washed him some more, making sure to clean the crusty dried food out of his beard. I even cleaned out his ears, which were almost stopped closed with hair and gunk. Then I waited for him to wake up, making sure to keep the water nice and warm. I played with his balls, because it made him hum in his sleep. His cock got hard, then soft again, in response to my touch. That was kind of fun! I made a bit of a game out of it, seeing how many ball tickles it took before he was stiff again. He woke up an hour later. He seemed a little embarrassed and at a loss for words. He just mumbled, "Thanks, girlie". 

I helped him get out of the tub. He was kind of creaky and old. I started to wonder how a man this weak could possibly control a sleigh or climb down chimneys or do any of the other strenuous activities required of Santa on Christmas Eve. I watched him dry off, and now that he was clean... well, he just didn't look as Santa-ish as before. He asked if I had any gin. I offered him eggnog instead. When he drank it I knew I'd made a mistake. He spit it out! Can you imagine? Santa Claus... spitting out eggnog? This old bum was probably expecting it to be spiked with some sort of alcohol, like my aunt used to do. But I preferred it right out of the carton, just like Santa. 

Well, that was a sore disappointment, I can tell you! But he was my guest, so I made dinner for fake homeless Santa. He ate it all up, but when it was over he grabbed my bottom and asked if I'd like to give him another bath. How rude! I told him, in no uncertain terms, that he shouldn't look a gift reindeer in the mouth and ushered him out of my apartment.

I suppose I should have learned my lesson. You know the one about not judging a book by its cover. But I didn't.

I tried to put my life back together. I got a job outside of the Christmas industry, and I tried not to think about Santa. But every time I spotted a white bearded fat man on the street, or in the subway, my heart would soar, and my gray world would grow brighter. I'd usually follow him for a while before deciding he probably wasn't Santa. If he looked particularly jolly... well, I found myself getting turned on. Sexually turned on. It was disquieting. I'd never had those kinds of feelings for Santa before. Later that spring I started having erotic dreams in which I was Mrs. Claus. These dreams would usually end with Santa and I making love in a pile of snow, under the aurora borealis. I would wake up turned on but terrified. So I stopped Santa hunting and concentrated on my job all through the summer. 

After Halloween, the Christmas decorations started going up all over town, and boom, just like that my obsession was back. I started wandering the streets, chasing anything in a beard. Now when I woke up after one of those vivid Santa dreams, I'd lay in bed, sometimes for hours, masturbating. I began to reconcile myself with the fact that I had the hots for Saint Nick. After all, I wasn't a child anymore. I was a 27-year-old woman. What's so terrible about being attracted to a vital, handsome, generous, jolly old elf? 

One day I saw a street corner Santa ringing a bell next to a donation pot. He had a real beard, not one of those fake ones. And his Santa suit was beautiful! Real leather boots and everything. And the way he said "Ho, Ho, Ho!" Well... I knew the moment I saw him, that this was Santa! The real Santa! Oh, yeah, it was definitely him! No doubt about it! And he was so sexy, the way his belly bounced when he swung his bell. I started wondering if he was a good kisser... if his penis was as big as homeless Santa's had been... if it would feel just as hard and meaty in my hand... if it would spurt just the same? I got so turned on I could barely breathe. 

I watched Santa until he was done for the night, then I followed him through the dark streets. I half expected that he'd go around a corner and hop on a waiting sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer, so I stayed close, treading softly so he wouldn't hear me. But he walked up to an apartment building and opened the door with a key. Before he could close it behind him, I ran up and pushed my way inside.

"Santa," I said, "I..." but I couldn't think of anything to say.

He looked at me with a perplexed expression and said, "What?" 

I stared at him and tried like mad to think of something, but my mind was a blank. 

"Well, spit it out, girl. I ain't got all night!"

I wanted to thank him for all the toys and presents he'd given me over the years, even that last one, the lump of coal, because it had taught me a valuable lesson about holding on to your faith in a world full of cynics. 

But instead, I kissed him. 

Yeah, that's what I said. I threw my arms around him and kissed Santa Claus right on the mouth. I couldn't believe I was doing it, but there I was doing it anyway. And he was stunned... shocked into immobility. My kiss was close mouthed at first. But... well, I don't know what came over me... maybe it was the smell of cinnamon in his beard... but I stuck my tongue in Santa's mouth. And doing that made me go mad with desire, I was panting desperately and hugging him tightly, making him stumble backwards into the foyer. I pushed him until he fell onto his back on the staircase, and I clambered on top of him, my little body rubbing like mad all over his big fat belly.

After a while he began kissing me too, sticking his tongue in my mouth and rubbing his gloved hands all over my back and squeezing my ass. I was wearing a plaid skirt that night, and his hands reached right under it, and he started rubbing my crotch through my panties! His magical fingers found the nub of my clitoris, and soon he was fingering me to heaven. Oh, Saint Nick, it felt great! 

Anybody could have seen us from the street or the stairwell, but we didn't care, we just made out like two desperate snow bunnies. He yanked his glove off his right hand with his teeth, his eyes crazy with need, then reached down around my ass, and I felt Santa's naked fingers slip under my panties and into my pussy! 

"Oh, Santa!" I moaned into his mouth. I felt his hardening penis poking up into my crotch, and I rubbed myself against him so hard, if we were made out of wood, we would have burst into flame. All the while his fingers delved ever deeper into me. I reached under his fat belly, desperately searching for his zipper, but his fly had buttons, and I couldn't figure out how to undo them. He took his fingers out of my vagina long enough to unbutton himself, and before I knew it, his hard, huge cock was inside me! 

"Oh, Santa!" I shrieked in joy.

His cock wasn't nearly as big as fake homeless Santa's, but it didn't matter. I hadn't had sex in almost eight years, so he felt huge inside me! And he was sooooooo hard! I grabbed the stairway banister with one hand and his beard with the other. I began to thrust my self forward and back, banging my trim little belly into his huge flabby belly, driving his North Pole deep into my nearly virgin vagina!

"Oh, Santa! Santa! Oh, you feel so good inside me!!" 

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" he said, because I was pulling his beard with every thrust. But he didn't tell me to stop. Maybe he knew that his beard was turning me on... probably more than any other part of him. I didn't take my eyes off him the whole time we fucked. I just ate him up with my eyes, amazed and astonished that this was really happening. His suit was so red and fuzzy, his face so jolly and sexy! He was Santa Claus! I was fucking Santa Claus!

I started shrieking, feeling the first orgasm of my life ripping through me. 

"Oh... God! Santa!! Saaaaantaaaaaa!!!"

He put his hand over my mouth to muffle my cries. If anyone had opened their doors, they'd have seen quite a sight! Well... for all I know people might have seen us. I wouldn't have noticed. I was blinded by the Christmas spirit. 

Soon after my orgasm, Santa grunted and grabbed my ass to stop my gyrations and held me down, as if I might fly away. Then I felt him cumming inside me. The feeling of it, so intensely intimate... it drove me wild!

"Oh, Santa!!" I yelled, my eyes popping out of my head, "You're cumming inside me!!!!!" I shrieked loud enough to wake everyone in the building, if I hadn't already. After he was done with his spasms and his arms went limp, I just sat there, feeling his cock softening inside me. I looked down into his dazed, sweaty, amazed face... my heart filled with love. I petted his curly white beard with my hand and leaned over to sprinkle his face with little kisses. 

"I'm sorry about the cookies, Santa." I said softly. Hoping he'd forgive me.

"Wha... what? Cookies?" He said breathlessly. "Fuck, I'm burning up in this suit!" He was sweating profusely and reached up to take off his Santa hat. 

He was bald! 

Oh, no! I did it again! Santa isn't bald! But this guy, whoever he was, was as bald as a cue ball! I didn't say a thing. I just stood up and walked right out of there, leaving him lying on his back on the stairs, wondering what the hell had just happened. As I walked quickly down the street, overcome with disappointment, I could feel his cum oozing out of me and down my leg. It didn't disgust me... actually, I kind of enjoyed the sensation... but it wasn't Santa's cum. That's what I really wanted. I wanted to make love to Santa, not some random geriatric in an expensive Santa suit! 

Thank goodness for the morning after pill. The last thing I needed was to get pregnant... at least not with some fake Santa's baby. 

But a few days later I started to wonder if maybe I'd been wrong to judge that man based on having no hair. Why was I so sure Santa had a full head of hair? Maybe he wore that big pointy hat for a reason. Maybe my original instincts had been right, and now I'd rejected Santa twice! I had to find out for sure. So I went back to the street corner where he worked. There he was, ringing his bell, just as sexy as ever. I felt the same tingling in my nether regions as I'd felt before. I went up to him, and when he saw me he just about fell over. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I was surprised that Santa had a potty mouth.

"I just wanted to..." but I couldn't think of anything to say. So I jumped up into his arms and kissed him, breathing in his cinnamon smell again. But after a few seconds he pushed me back and held me at arms length, looking left and right nervously.

"Look, the other night... that was... fuckin' amazing. But you should know... I'm a married man."

"Of course you are," I replied. "Everybody knows that. I just..." but I trailed off again. Nothing came to mind. So I tried to kiss him again, but this time he held me at bay with his bell.

He whispered under his breath, "Really, I can't do it. I'd love to, don't get me wrong. But I shouldn't have done it in the first place. I mean, you're a nice girl, I'm sure, but I love my wife. She'll kill me if she so much as suspects I've been fuckin' around. She'll kill you too. So, do us both a favor and go find some other Santa Claus to screw."

I looked at him, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. That didn't sound much like Mrs. Claus. I doubted she could kill anyone. "I might just do that, Santa... if you really are Santa. I just want to ask you one question first. Do you like eggnog?"

"Do I what?" 

What was he, deaf? "Do. You. Like. Egg. Nog?" 

"Fuck no. Can't stand the stuff."

How disappointing. 

But I took his advice and started checking out all the street corner Santas I could find. This was New York City. There was one on every corner. I looked at hundreds of Santas over the next couple of weeks, trying to be a little more circumspect than I'd been the last time. No, I didn't fuck any of them. For one thing, most of them were obviously fake. Fake beards, fake bellies, fake ho, ho, ho's. I could easily rule out Black Santas, Hispanic Santas, and Asian Santas. Not because I'm a racist... it's just that Santa's white. Everybody knows that. 

But some of them had real beards. They were so cute! I didn't think they were the real Santa, like I had the first guy, but I needed to be absolutely sure. So I got in the habit of kissing any street corner Santa who had a real beard. I'd just walk right up to them and plant my lips on theirs. I could usually tell right away that they were fake. But it wasn't always that easy. On at least a dozen occasions I had to make out with a would-be Santa for a long time before making up my mind. Not that every Santa let me kiss them. I suppose some of those guys were gay, others shy, or maybe in love with their wives. But it was obvious to me that any Santa who didn't want to kiss me just couldn't possibly be the real deal. Anyway, none of those street corner Santas inspired me to take it farther than making out. 

Well... that's not true. I did give a double blowjob one night. 

About three weeks before Christmas, I came across two very convincing Santas who were working right across the street from each other. They looked to be in their late sixties, early seventies and had long curly gray beards, little rosy cheeks, and twinkly eyes. Their Ho, ho, ho's were impressive, easily cutting through the traffic noise. They were wearing identical suits... in fact; everything about them looked the same. I couldn't decide which one was best, so I picked out one, totally at random, walked up to him and kissed him on the lips. He looked at me with surprise in his big blue eyes. But he kissed me back, not missing a beat. Maybe he'd heard stories about the notorious 'Santa kisser' that had made the evening news. He was a pretty good kisser. He smelled like he'd recently eaten a piece of pumpkin pie. Nice. I knew right away that he was the real Santa. I'd found him at last!

But then I thought about the other Santa across the street. He looked just like this one. Maybe I'd made another mistake. So I broke away, crossed the street and kissed the Santa Number Two. He reacted almost exactly like the Santa Number One and was just as good a kisser. This one was definitely the real Santa! I was certain of it! But...his eyes... his face... well, they were almost identical to Santa Number One. I felt intense confusion.

I went back across the street and kissed Santa Number One again, this time really making out with him, tongues entwining. He hugged me and I loved the feel of his flabby arms enveloping me. He even squeezed my ass, which made my pussy tingle. It felt like magic. After a nice long kiss, probably five minutes, I skipped back across the street to French-kiss Santa Number Two. By this time both of them were smiling, wondering what the hell was going on and where it all might lead. 

Santa Number Two's kiss was virtually indistinguishable from Santa Number One's. The only discernible difference between them was that Santa Number Two smelled more like applesauce than pumpkin pie. But that wasn't enough of a difference for me to decide between them. So I figured that it was better to be safe than sorry. I crossed back over to Santa Number One, took his gloved hand in mine, and started to pull him across the street.

"Whoa," he said. "I can't leave my donation box." 

"Gosh, Santa," I said, "I was thinking about giving you a blow job. But if you'd rather not..."

"The hell with the donations", he said, a definite Santa-like twinkle lighting up his old eyes.

I led him across the street to Santa Number Two and took his hand in my other hand. I started to lead them toward a nearby alley.

"Hey, what's going on? I can't leave my..."

"Trust me," said Santa Number One, "Leave it. Just, leave it."

I walked hand in hand... in hand with the two Santas into the alley. I stood them up against a brick wall between a couple of dumpsters. It doesn't sound very romantic, but there was a nearby window rimmed with multicolored Christmas lights, illuminating everything with a magical colorful glow. I looked at their faces appraisingly. They really did look amazingly similar to each other, even from up close. One of these men was the real Santa; I knew it with all my heart, but which one? It was a real conundrum. 

I kneeled on the snowy ground at their feet. Santa Number Two said, "What the hell..."

Santa Number One said, "Shhhh. Don't fuck this up for me. Oh... fuuuuuuuck."

He said that last bit because I had pulled his pants and tidy whities down with a nice solid yank. Then I pulled the Santa Number Two's pants down. They both had long red coats on, so I tucked the fuzzy white tails up into their big black belts, so that I could compare their penises without anything hanging in the way. Number Two's penis was not visible at all, actually. It was turtled back in his fatty balls. But Santa Number One's penis was already emerging from hibernation and getting larger and longer by the second, probably because he'd had longer to think about what I was going to do to him than Number Two. 

I took Santa Number One's cock into my mouth first. It was so tiny, my chin was buried in his balls, and his big belly was resting on top of my head. But I felt him growing against my tongue, and fast! I'd never sucked a guy before, although I'd seen pictures and movies. But seeing and doing are two different animals. I sucked and slurped and was amazed at how fast his cock was getting harder and longer and fatter. It was doubling then quadrupling in size. It was magical. I took Santa Number Two's teeny little wiener in my fingertips, and he too started growing and hardening. It was quite fascinating. When Number One was about five inches long, I switched to sucking Number Two and enjoyed the sensation of his cock swelling in my mouth just like Number One's had. I could actually feel the warm blood coursing into it from his excited body. 

After a minute or two, I went back to sucking Santa Number One, and now he was rock hard and almost seven inches long, but still growing. What an amazing transformation! I felt Number Two's cock hardening to exactly the same length in my hand. When they were both as hard and as long as they were ever gonna be, I took another look. Freaky. They had the same exact cock. Not just the same size (almost eight inches), but the same pattern of veins ran down their shafts in the same places. And boy, were they beautiful. Although these guys had wrinkly faces their cocks were smooth and sleek. There was nothing old about that part of their anatomy (except the white curly hairs that surrounded them).

Santa Number One was impatiently watching me just look at his cock, so he grabbed my short black hair and pushed himself into my mouth again. I looked up at him with my elfin eyes, and he looked down at me over his belly, and I felt an amazing rush. I was sucking Santa Claus's dick! It's something I'd dreamed about many times, and now I was actually doing it! Then I felt Santa Number Two poking his dick against my cheek so I went back to sucking him for a while. Looking up at his intense, jolly, wrinkly, fat, old face, I was certain that I was sucking the real Santa's cock... but the other Santa was just as real to me! It was really quite trippy. I started going back and forth between their warm, steamy cocks, giving each one maybe three or four sucks while jerking the other one with my hand. I did this in the fairest way possible because I wouldn't want to offend the real Santa by showing too much attention to the fake Santa. It was fun, actually, trying to keep them both excited at the same time. 




Santa Claus: Sex Addict



It was a cold night. Steamy clouds illuminated by colorful Christmas lights were billowing out of my nose and mouth and dancing around their slick wet cocks. It was a beautiful sight. I felt so much love flowing through me, I began to hum, 'Oh, Holy Night' as I sucked Santa and/or Santa. Their facial expressions were so tense, but so full of joy, I was sure that, regardless of anything else, I was finally showing my appreciation to my lifelong hero. 

I kept picking up the pace and intensity, bit by bit, minute after minute, until they were groaning and having trouble staying on their feet from pleasure. Toward the end I was just giving each one a single deep and powerful suck before switching to the other, all the while jerking them strongly with my hands which were lubricated with the copious amounts of saliva I was drooling all over them. Both Santas grabbed the top of my head at the same time, and their bodies went stiff. I felt the cum shooting up through their cocks with my hands and then...

Santa Number Two was the winner! He came about five seconds before Santa Number One. When he began to spurt, I took his cock in my mouth and felt the unique and wonderful sensation of cum splooging against my tongue. I tried to hold it all in, not wanting to spill any of it on my nice new sweater. But I forgot about Santa Number One. I was still jerking him so he suddenly came all over the side of my face and hair. I turned to put him in my mouth before he splashed me again, but then Santa Number Two spurted again, painting the other side of my face. It was dripping off me, all over my new sweater. But I thought, ah, what the heck. That's what dry cleaners are for. So I just jerked them both, aiming their quivering cocks at my face. I squeezed out a couple more jets of white stuff, opening my pretty mouth wide to catch as much as possible. I got some of it, but for the most part they frosted me like a freshly baked cinnamon roll. 

When I was done, I swallowed their cum... but it didn't taste particularly Christmassy. I had no better idea who the real Santa was than before. Sure, Number Two had cum sooner, but actually, it seemed like Santa Number One had cum a little more. But then again, what does any of that prove? I couldn't think of a single Christmas carol about Santa's semen skills. 

So I looked at them, my hands holding their dripping cocks, my elfin face and short hair zigzagged with streaks of shiny white goo and asked, "So, do either one of you like eggnog?"

That really tickled them. They laughed their jolly laughs and said simultaneously, with the same voice, "I love eggnog!" 

"Boy. You Santas could almost be twins."

They looked at each other, then down at me and said, at the same time, "We are twins."

"Dang it!" I yelled. I stood up and threw my arms up in the air in frustration. "Santa doesn't have a twin brother! Dang it! Dang it! So, that means... what? Neither of you is the real Santa?" I kicked over a trashcan, sending the contents flying, "I just blew two fake Santas at the same time? Oh that's just great!"

They looked at me with growing concern on their faces. They nervously pulled their pants back up and began to back away from me, toward the street.

"What does a girl have to do to find the real Santa Claus?" I shouted angrily to the heavens. Then I gave out a little roar of frustration. Okay, it was a big roar of frustration. What can I say? I was frustrated! When I looked again, the twin fake Santas were gone, leaving me dripping with cum, but totally Santaless.

I should let you know that experiences like this weren't as depressing as you might think. Oh, it was a sore disappointment that neither of them turned out to be the real Santa, but I took consolation in the fact that I'd given two nice old guys a fabulous memory to look back on. And I absolutely loved every second of it. That's how it is with sex addicts. The sex is always enjoyable. It's just the consequences that suck. The consequence for me was that one day instead of going to work, I went Santa-hunting and never went back. I had a lot of money saved up, but I didn't know how long it would last. New York is an expensive city to live in. 

But I tried not to think about that and kept looking for Santa. And a few more days of finding only shabby street Santas, I started thinking maybe I was setting my sights too low. Maybe I needed to check out department store Santas. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. I remembered they had some really believable ones at the store I worked at when I was nineteen. So I did a little recon and was happy with what I found. Those guys almost always had real beards and jolly faces and bowls full of jelly and all the rest of it. But I couldn't just walk up to them and kiss them. They were surrounded with kids, elves, photographers, and store managers. 

So I would wait in line with the kids, and when it was my turn I'd sit on Santa's lap.

"Well, if it isn't little Virginia!" he'd sometimes say, magically knowing my name without me even telling him.

And then he almost always said, "And how are you today, little girl?" even though it was obvious I wasn't all that little. 

I'd always say something like, "I just wanted to apologize for doubting you, Santa. I should have baked those cookies for you last Christmas Eve. I know how much you look forward to them every year. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'll never forget again."

Sometimes Santa would say, "Oh, don't worry about it. Mrs. Claus thinks I eat too many cookies as it is! Ho! Ho! Ho!" or something like that.

There was always a long line of kids behind me, so I had to decide fast whether he was the real Santa or not. Usually, it boiled down to whether he knew my name without me having to tell him. 

Eventually, each one would say, "Now tell me what you want for Christmas, Virginia?"

If he was fake, I'd say, "Please convey my apologies to the real Santa, if you see him."

But if he was the real Santa, I'd lean in way close and whisper into his ear, "What I want for Christmas is for you to fuck me Santa. Tonight. My place. Wear your Santa Suit." 

Then I'd kiss his ear, slipping my tongue inside to make sure he knew I wasn't kidding around. Then I'd press a little Christmas card into his hand, which contained my address, name and phone number, as well as a photo of me holding my skirt up, exposing my pussy, just so he knew I wasn't a cop or something.

It didn't always work out as planned. During the period I was vetting department store Santas, I chose ten true Santas. Of those, three never contacted me. A fourth Santa totally freaked out, called store security and had me ejected from the premises. But six other department store Santas... well, they were lonely oldish fat guys, who'd never been propositioned by a skinny little hottie like me. They couldn't pass up the opportunity. 

But I didn't think about it that way at the time. Each and every time I thought I'd finally found the real Santa, and each and every time I believed that he and I had made a real connection.

Sam once told me that the definition of insanity is doing the same stupid thing again and again expecting different results. But Sam's a Grinch. I'm not insane. I'm an optimist! What's wrong with that? 

So, I had sex of one sort or another with six department store Santas, but it wasn't all wham bam, thank you ma'am. No, I put on Christmas music and baked cookies for them, and if they were nice, we'd make out and I'd give them a blowjob or handjob or maybe even jump their bones, always with me on top and fully clothed (except for panties). I was too shy to let Santa see my breasts. After he ejaculated on me or in me, I'd always offer to make dinner for him. At some point in every evening I would realize that this man wasn't the real Santa after all. I tried to cover my disappointment with a smile; I would never be rude to a guest. Sometimes after dinner they wanted to have sex again, and if they were nice enough about it and had been considerate enough to wear their Santa suit, I'd comply, though with a bit less enthusiasm. But I never accepted an invitation for a second date. I wasn't a slut, after all!

All this time I'd been working my way from store to store. My final stop was... well, the terms of the gag order prohibit me from naming the place... But if you've ever seen a particular movie about a particular Santa who works at a particular New York department store and goes on trial to prove he's the real Santa, well you probably know which store I'm referring to. The Santa there is reputed to be the one true Santa! I went there Christmas Eve afternoon knowing that it would be my last chance this year to find the real Santa. I was feeling very optimistic. 

Santa's North Pole takes up the entire eighth floor of the department store. The waiting line is a long, winding path through a fantasyland of beautifully lit Christmas scenes with cheerful music playing and happy helpful 'elves' capering about. It really got me into the Christmas spirit, I guess, because by the time I had my turn with Santa, my panties were dripping wet, and I was panting with lust.

I was ushered by an elf into a small, decorated room, in which Santa was sitting on a glittery red, white, and gold throne. Oh. My. God. He was beautiful!!! Like a radiant messiah dressed in holiday style. He had a lush, velvety red Santa suit. His face was glowing with youth, yet wrinkled with wisdom. His eyes were full of ancient knowledge, yet sparkling with childlike mischief. His booming laugh was the sound of love itself. He welcomed me with open arms.

"Ho, Ho, Ho, Virginia! It's been ages since I saw you last!"

My heart was aflutter. He was better, realer, and more magical than any of those fake Santas. This was really, truly, the one and only Kris Kringle himself! 

There was one other person in the room with us, a female elf about college age, who offered to take pictures if I'd brought a camera. I pretended that I'd misplaced my purse. I must have dropped it in the line. Maybe she could go look for it for me? She was so helpful. What a sweetie. She left me alone with Santa. I locked the door behind her, but quietly so Santa wouldn't notice. 

I hopped up on his lap. I put one hand nonchalantly on his inner thigh. My hand was only inches from his Santahood, and my fingers tingled with the knowledge that his sex was so close. So deliciously close. I looked up at him with doe eyes and giggled like a kid. I sucked my thumb shyly, oozing innocence. He was looking at me with a weird expression. He couldn't tell how to read me. I was obviously in my late twenties, but why was I acting so coy? Was I just fucking with him, or was I trying to seduce him? He didn't know, but I could definitely see interest in his eyes. 

Santa made clever small talk, much cleverer than any of the other Santas and happily played along with my little girl act while trying to pretend he didn't notice my tight little ass on his knee or the way my hand kept squeezing his upper thigh whenever I giggled. I wondered if he could tell I wasn't wearing any underwear. I enjoyed feeling the softness of his velvety trousers on my pussy lips. I babbled to him in kid talk, all the while bopping my legs in a ridiculous parody of a child. I could feel him getting a little uncomfortable with my increasingly obvious efforts at seduction. He tried to shift his weight to get his crotch further back from my hand, but I just reached farther under his belly until the edge of my hand was pressing into the side of his growing erection. 

"Uh, Santa's getting a little uncomfortable, Virginia. Maybe you could stand for a while." 

"Okay Santa, I stand up." I said with an obscenely cute little giggle. Then I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled myself up so I was standing with my feet on top of his knees. By that time I'd kicked off my shoes. He didn't know what to do. I basically had my crotch a few inches above his face. 

"Ooo, look Santa," I said and then pulled the front of my skirt up, so he could see through his little round glasses that I wasn't wearing any panties. He was looking right at my totally shaven pussy, which was open and glistening wet. His eyes opened wide. He backed up into his chair, but he couldn't take his eyes off the delicate flower hovering temptingly just a few inches from his cherry red nose. He froze. Stunned. His arms were sticking straight out to the left and right. He didn't know what to do with them.

"Kiss me, Santa. Kiss me on the lips," I whined petulantly. I'd never done this with a Santa before, but there was something special about this one. I moved my pussy closer to his face until he could smell the cinnamon scented perfume I'd anointed myself with. The fold on top of my clitoris touched his nose, but he didn't kiss me, so I put one foot up on his shoulder and pressed my pussy fully into his face. I could feel the tingly softness of his moustache on my labia. He groaned a deep lingering groan that vibrated into the depths of my vagina. His tense body relaxed, and a moment later I felt his tongue slip inside me. It was a transcendent moment of pure bliss. He began licking and lapping me, and now his gloved hands were on my naked ass, and now they were running up under my sweater to cup my breasts (I wasn't wearing a bra this time). Oh, boy, I loved the sensation of those soft leather gloves on my naked flesh. They had fur cuffs that tickled my belly as he fondled me.

His tongue, his long thick tongue, was deep inside me. He began nodding, so his rosy red nose could flick my clitoris. Oh, Santa. So wise in the ways of love. I knew he was an ancient soul, perhaps thousands of years old. I guess you can learn a lot if you have that much time to practice.

I felt a wave of pleasure so intense and overwhelming that I began to moan, "Oh fuck! Santa! Lick my pussy! Lick my wet pussy! Oh fuck yeah!!!" I was no longer pretending to be a little girl. I was a woman. I got louder and louder until my voice morphed into wordless shrieks of orgasmic ecstasy. 

I heard the elves pounding at the door. I knew I was running out of time so I hopped off his legs onto the floor. I pulled and yanked at his pants. It made his butt slide forward to the front of the throne. The pants must have been a little loose, because they slid right off, exposing his ten-inch cock. It was so pale, it seemed to emit a magical glow. 

He looked down at me, proud to show me his cock. His sweet old face now had an expression of pure carnal desire. He said, "What do you want for Christmas, little girl?"

I hopped sideways onto Santa's lap and said, "I want you to fuck me, Santa!"

He lifted me with one arm under the small of my back and the other under my thighs. Then he lowered me onto his big hard cock with his strong, sure hands, finding my pussy with the first try. 

"Fuck!" he yelled hoarsely as his cock entered me. He was so big and long! I was so tight! But we fit together perfectly.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh!!!" I moaned, feeling every inch of him penetrate me. Then he began to lift me up and down on his cock. So strong! So sure! I lifted my sweater up to my chin so Santa could see my tits bounce as he fucked me. I hadn't shown them to any of the other Santas. But I wanted this Santa, the truly real and only Santa, to see every inch of me. He looked down at my perky, round breasts, his eyes wild with lust. He leaned forward and took my hard nipple into his mouth. The feel of his beard tickling my skin drove me wild. All the time he was impaling me on his cock with amazing strength, as if I were weightless. 

"Oh shiiiiiiiiiiit," I groaned loudly, "Fuck me, Santa! Fuck my tight little pussy! Oh god, your cock is so big! Oh god, oh god, oh god... I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

I trembled in the most powerful orgasm of my life (up to that time), and he kept fucking me, ignoring the pounding of the elves. The door started to bend, but it held. 

He shouted, "No, don't come in! I'm perfectly fine! Go away!"

He stood up and put my feet on the seat of the throne with my back to him. I crouched down, offering him my pretty little tushie. I was just low enough for his cock to slide up into my pussy. Oh god, he felt twice as long this way! The head of Santa's cock reached all the way into me and pressed against my womb. It hurt, but I could barely feel the pain through the haze of pleasure that filled my body from head to toe. And now he began thrusting himself in and out of me with an ancient power he must have inherited from the gods of old. He had one strong hand on my shoulder, the other on my waist. He fucked me with growing speed and firmness, and within half a minute, he shot the magic of Christmas deep inside me. 

"Oh yeah, Santa, fill me up! Fill me up with your sperm!! I want to have your babies!!!!"

I think that last statement may have shocked him back to his senses. Either that or the act of cumming did the trick. Either way, he let go of me, stumbled backwards, tripped on his own drawers and fell sprawling on his back. Cum was still shooting out of his cock.

That's when the elves broke open the door. There were four or five of them, with a couple of female security guards right behind. They saw everything, including Santa's naked cock shooting a jet of semen two feet into the air. And there I was, a young slip of a thing, standing with my back to him on the throne, torso turned watching him fall. My sweater and skirt were still pulled up, so the elves pretty much saw everything I'd been hiding from people most of my life.

I don't know about you, but if I saw a scene like that, it would inspire years of masturbation fantasies. Not nightmares, like the elves later said in their depositions. 

But things were about to get worse... I was staring down at Santa, his head scrunched uncomfortably against the far wall. To my shock and massive disappointment, I could see the fat pad sticking out from under the tails of his red velvet coat. And I could see his real belly button. He was thin, with ripped abdominal muscles. Then I noticed how trim and muscular his legs were. And his silvery beard... it was peeling off around the edges.

Dang. I didn't even need to give him the eggnog test. He was obviously a fake. His hair and beard and glowing skin were just makeup. And the dignity, wisdom and magic he had been exuding when I first entered the room were just parts of a practiced performance that he'd run on a million kids and adults before me. This guy wasn't old, fat, or wise! He was the worst fake of all. And I'd told this joker that I wanted to have his babies! I was disgusted! Well... not entirely. He'd fucked me better than any of them (my pussy zinged for hours afterwards). Still, I felt betrayed by the whole Christmas industry, which had tricked me into thinking this young college thespian was the real Santa. 

I pulled down my sweater and skirt. The Christmas party was over.

I won't bore you with the teeny little details of what happened after that. But here are the general outlines of it: fake young Santa was put on suspension, pending investigation, and I was arrested because he claimed that I'd attacked him. That I'd raped him, in fact. Little old me. Can you imagine that? But apparently he forgot there was a hidden camera in the room, aimed right at the throne. On the tape he was clearly a willing participant, so they released me after one night in jail. He was fired, which serves him right for being such a liar. I wasn't prosecuted, although they considered it. The children waiting in the queue line had been evacuated as soon as I started getting loud. But the store made me sign a non-disclosure agreement. So... I can't really talk about what happened or they'll sue me. Oh, and I was banned from that store for life. 




Santa Claus: Sex Addict



I also found out that the only reason he and those other department store Santas knew my name was that the elves took down everyone's name in advance and whispered it to Santa before bringing them up! Can you imagine the duplicity? We didn't use that kind of trickery back when I was an elf!

But worst of all, I spent Christmas Eve in jail, which was absolutely horrible. I'd been planning all year to wait for Santa to come down my chimney. I'd be laying naked on the table next to the tree, freshly baked cookies stacked on my belly and a glass of milk between my legs. I knew I would be irresistible. But now I despaired! There was no chimney in the big communal cell they threw me in. The girls there tried to have some Christmas spirit, but it was totally the pits. I was certain that when I went home I'd find another lump of coal on my floor. But when I finally got back to my apartment late Christmas night, there were no presents at all. I'd been robbed. I must have left my door unlocked, or someone had picked the lock. I had no idea if Santa left me a present that year or not. The thieves stole all my presents. Fuckers. 

Anyway, the lesson I took away from that event was this: never trust a man in a Santa suit. From that moment on I would only seek out men who looked like Santa naturally. No gimmicks. No makeup. No fancy suits. Just natural, fat, jolly, white haired men. I felt certain that the forces of the universe were bringing me and Santa together, and all I needed to do was keep looking, and sooner or later I'd find him. 

As I said earlier, I'm an eternal optimist. 

PART 3

MEET-UP AT MOOSE CAFÉ

After hanging up with Kris, I set out for the all night diner. The weather was horrible. It was snowing, and roads were nearly impassable. But in spite of my poor winter driving skills, I made it through, heedless of the wind and weather. I got there well before him. Kris took almost half an hour longer than he'd said he would. Not surprising. The North Pole is something like 1000 miles from Anchorage. Maybe he couldn't find Rudolph that night, so it was harder to make it through the storm. But whatever it was, just when I was starting to worry he wouldn't show up, I saw him walk nervously through the door. He stomped the snow off his big brown boots and hung his huge green winter coat next to the door. I'd half expected him to be wearing his Santa suit, but he was going incognito of course. He was wearing a big hand-knitted red and green sweater and a green knit cap with a big white ball of yarn on top. He looked absolutely adorable.

He saw me sitting in the last booth along the window and smiled a pale, sad smile. He sat down across from me and was happy to see I'd already ordered him a great big steaming mug of cocoa. I would have ordered cookies too, but they didn't have any. 

There was a faraway look in his eyes. "Thanks for... helping me. It's been a crazy couple of days," he said with his deep velvety voice. 

I reached out to pat the back of his big hand. "I've been there." His skin was amazingly soft.

"Yeah?" he said. "That surprises me. You look so... I don't know... innocent."

"Sometimes I feel like I am innocent. Down deep. But of course, I'm not. I'm a sex addict, same as you. I've done so many naughty things... stupid, reckless things... you have no idea."

He nodded and sipped his cocoa. We sat in silence for a while. I didn't know what to say. I'd never been a sponsor before. I wasn't sure where to start. After a while he asked, "So... you didn't speak at the meeting. What's your sob story? No, don't answer... I shouldn't pry."

I was relieved he'd started the ball rolling, so I smiled and said, "Oh, don't worry about it. My sob story is that I'm just your average, ordinary, everyday sex addict. I've been celibate for almost a year, but I spent the year before that hitchhiking around the continent, having unprotected sex with total strangers. You know, same ol' story."

His feathery white eyebrows went up with interest. "Really? Were there a lot of them?"

I shrugged, "I never bothered to count at the time. But Sam told me to come up with an estimate. I'm sure it was more than a hundred. Maybe one twenty five? I don't know. It was a bit of a blur..." My cheeks were red with embarrassment.

He smiled a wicked little smile. His eyes were really twinkling now. He leaned closer to me over the table, "Details, please."

This is exactly the sort of thing that sex addicts aren't supposed to do. You know, turn each other on with their lurid tales. But I wanted Kris to trust me. He needed my help. So I had to open up to him... at least a little. I decided to tell him my story, sort of. I left out the stuff I did in New York, because that all involved men in Santa suits and if I talked about those guys, eventually I would say too much, and he'd know my secret. If he knew I had a thing for guys with white beards, well, I wasn't sure what would happen, but I wasn't ready to drop that bomb just yet.

"Well..." I said, "let's see. Every sex addict is chasing something. For me it was a particular man. A fantasy figure, if you will, who I was trying to find..."

"Mr. Right?" he prompted. Oh, Kris understood me so well!

"Yes, that's right! I was looking for my Mr. Right. I had this fixed idea in my mind of what he looked like, what he acted like, how he smelled... and I knew that I'd know him as soon as I met him. But every time I met a man who resembled this idea I had in my head... well, I was overcome with the urge to kiss him, and that usually led to more. But it seemed like the minute it was over I'd figure out he wasn't Mr. Right after all, and I'd go out in search of him all over again. It was an obsession. I lost my job as a result. Eventually, I couldn't afford to live in New York anymore so I put my treasures in storage and hit the road in a rickety old car. I drove randomly from town to town, city to city, looking for Mr. Right."

"And you found him everywhere you looked."

"Yep. I found him in stores, on streets, bars, churches, fairgrounds... everywhere. Not everyone was happy with me trying to kiss them, so I got in trouble a few times, and I kept moving. I found that biker bars and truck stops were filled with Mr. Rights. Those guys are mostly straight and mostly hedonists, so I had better luck approaching them."

"Wow," he said, his eyes wide with amazement at my tale, "That sounds... dangerous."

"I guess. But I was lucky. I didn't get any STD's, and I went on the pill to keep from getting pregnant. And none of these guys were ever violent with me. I wouldn't have approached a scary looking man in the first place. I wouldn't kiss a man unless he was jolly."

"Jolly?" he asked with interest. 

"Happy, I mean. Nice faces, a good laugh. Anyway, the only times I felt in danger were a couple of orgies at biker clubs. I was only interested in Mr. Right, but sometimes his buddies would want to join in... sometimes they didn't ask. One time this guy came right up and stuck it in my... you know. Back door. Ugh. I hated that kind of thing at the time."

"But... you like it now?" he said, with a lustful twinkle in his eye.

I blushed and slapped his hand, "Kris. A sex addict can get used to anything. Anyway, whenever I was making love to Mr. Right, I felt so happy that I actually wanted to please his friends. Afterwards however... I sometimes felt stupid. Cheap. Dirty."

The look of lust left his eye. I'd connected with him. "Exactly," he said, tears suddenly welling up in his big blue eyes, "That's exactly how I feel. It's great when I'm doing it, then I cum... and bam! I realize what a total disaster my life is becoming." 

I reached out to touch his rosy cheek. Oh my, his beard was soft!! Downy soft, like a fuzzy bunny! A tear fell out of his eye and ran across my thumb, sending an electric jolt through my pussy. I had to restrain myself from leaping over the tabletop to kiss him. I put my hand back down on the table, trying to control my breathing. That was a close one. 

"I know, Kris, I know. But it gets better. Although sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. Sometimes you just have to hit bottom before you can turn things around." I think I heard someone say that in a movie once.

He nodded and wiped his eyes on the sleeves of his sweater, "So, how did you hit bottom?"

"Kris... I came here to help you, not tell you my sad story..."

"It is helping me... listening to you. Honestly. I want to hear." His azure eyes looked at me... I mean, right at me, unblinking. I don't think anyone had ever, in my whole life, looked at me that way. My heart went thumpity, thump, thump!

"Well," I said, "eventually my car broke down, and I set out on foot, hitchhiking from place to place. I knew that was dangerous so I went to a truck stop to see if I could find someone to give me a lift all the way to Alaska. You see, I'd gotten this idea in my mind that Mr. Right probably lived in or near Alaska. Anyway, I met this guy at a truck stop who not only looked just like Mr. Right, he was on his way to Anchorage! He had this big beautiful red truck and ..."

"Was he Jolly?" Kris asked, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

I laughed, "Oh, yes. Jolly as hell. So I kissed him right there in the parking lot, and he took me to his truck and we fucked... oh, sorry, I don't mean to be so crude."

Kris leaned forward, speaking softly so nobody but me could possibly hear him. "Virginia... why do we use euphemisms? Why are we so ashamed to call a thing what it is? It's kind of like lying. I didn't have a dalliance with my employees. I fucked them. I stuck my cock in their mouths and up their asses. I came all over their faces. I cheated on my wife. I mean that's what I did. If we're not going to be honest, how can we ever face our mistakes?" He smiled at me, and I felt bathed in Saint Nick's radiance.

I blushed, leaned in closer and continued my story, "Well, you asked for it. Here's the story, euphemism-free... Where was I...?"

"He took you to his truck to fuck." It was so weird seeing Kris Kringle's lips say that word. Weird and exciting!

"Yeah, okay. I fucked Mr. Right in the back of his big cab. We fucked, and fucked, and fucked a long time. He was a great lover. Nicely shaped cock, lots of stamina, great kisser. and his mouth... oh, shit, Kris, he made me cum so hard that I can almost feel his tongue in my pussy a year and a half later! He was so perfect that after sex was over, I still thought he was Mr. Right. That had never happened before. And when I asked him if he was Mr. Right, he said he was! Joy! I thought I'd found Mr. Right... for three magical days. He'd drive for a while, then we'd fuck, then drive some more, and I'd give him a blow job... basically we did it as many times a day as he could get it up. I was in heaven. Once he pulled his truck over, and we made love a beautiful stand of Christmas pines. It would have been the happiest moment of my life if not for the fact that he was a fraud."

"How did you find out he was lying?" I could tell that the story was exciting the sex addict in Kris, but he was trying hard to stay focused on me as a friend. I really appreciated that!

"I was looking through his personal stuff, trying to find something to read when I came across a little photo album. It had pictures of him and his wife and kids."

"You must have been pissed."

"No, I didn't care about that. I've always known that Mr. Right is married. I don't know if he has kids, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did. He's been married a long time. No, that's not what upset me. It was the picture of him hunting. He was standing over the body of a dead reindeer... smiling like a son of a bitch!"

Kris choked on his cocoa, and a look of fury crossed his previously jolly face. "The fuck you say!"

"It totally horrified me! Mr. Right is not a hunter, much less a reindeer killer. This guy was a fraud! It nearly broke my heart, Kris. So I told him to stop the truck and let me out!"

"He abandoned you in the middle of nowhere?"

"No. He didn't let me out. He admitted lying to me and begged my forgiveness. He said I was the only girl, other than his wife, who'd shown interest in him sexually. His wife had some sort of medical condition that made it impossible for them to have sex, so when I came along it was like a dream come true. I don't know why I let him mollify me, but I did. He said he wanted to make it up to me by driving me the rest of the way to Alaska. But I absolutely refused to spend another moment in that truck with such a big fat liar."

"So... you got out?"

"No. He told me he knew Mr. Right and that he'd take me to him."

"Oh, Virginia," Kris said with disappointment, "You fell for that?"

"I was obsessed. So yes, I fell for it. But it seemed like he was keeping his word at first. He drove me to a gas station where there was a mechanic who looked just like Mr. Right. The truck driver told me to stay in the cab, and he went in to talk to Mr. Right. After a while they came back, and the mechanic came up to meet me. He stank of gasoline, and his hands were smeared with oil, but I knew it was him. I knew it was Mr. Right, just as I'd known many times before."

"You fucked him."

"Of course I fucked him. I fucked a greasy, smelly, mechanic who reeked of cigarettes just because he looked jolly. But of course, after he'd shot his wad into me I realized he wasn't the real deal, and he went away. I was used to disappointment by then so when the trucker offered to take me somewhere else to look for the real Mr. Right... well, I couldn't refuse. I wanted him to. It sounds crazy to me now, but at the time it seemed almost like the ideal situation. The trucker drove me from place to place, and he was pretty good at finding Mr. Rights. We were still heading toward Alaska, but slooooowly. We must have hit every truck stop we passed in Montana and Canada. I'd wait in the back of the cab, and after a while, he'd bring back Mr. Right. Sometimes several of them. But he'd only introduce one of them to me at a time. Sometimes they weren't totally what I had in mind, but just to be on the safe side, I'd at least give them a blowjob or let them take pictures of me naked. But if they looked good enough I'd let them do anything they wanted. Even fuck me up the ass, which I was beginning to enjoy." I blushed again.

"You naughty girl," he said, with a playful leer. But I could tell he was just trying to keep the conversation light. There was a deep look of concern and compassion on his face, which warmed my heart and gave me the courage to continue.

"After maybe four months of this, I saw one of the San... I mean one of the Mr. Rights giving the trucker some money. After that Mr. Right was through with me, I started thinking about that money. I searched the cab of the truck while he was taking a shit. I found a pile of money, all different sizes of bill, Canadian, American... And it finally dawned on me... I was a whore. I was a truck stop whore."

Kris reached out and took my hands in his hands. His azure eyes were wet with compassion. "I'm so sorry, Virginia."

Tears started running down my face. It was astounding. I hadn't cried about any of this. Ever. I'd always focused on the good memories. The pleasure of sex, the joy of giving men happiness, the fun of the hunt... But looking into Kris Kringle's understanding eyes... I felt all the suppressed disappointment, frustration, and shame bubbling to the surface. Tears started coming out of Kris's eyes too, and we just sat there for the longest time, holding hands and staring at each other's eyes, tears running down our faces. Then we started laughing at the absurdity of it all. It was a perfect moment. We understood each other. 

It was six a.m., and the first morning rush began in the Diner.

I said, "We never got around to talking about you."

"No, that's okay..."

"Kris, you need to unburden yourself." More people came through the jingling door. "But we need privacy. I think we should get a room at the motel."

There was an electric look in his eyes.

"No Kris, not to fuck," I said with a laugh. "I just can't take you back to my place because it's too small, and I have roommates, and I really don't think you should go home right now. I can tell you're in crisis mode. You need to take care of this thing so it doesn't destroy you. So it doesn't mess up your business. How is that deadline thing you mentioned going?"

He shook his head, "A total disaster. If I could just get back to who I used to be, I could turn this whole thing around. But every time I step a foot into the factory..."

"I take it you're not the only sex addict you know."

"I'm not sure if they're sex addicts exactly. But I'm the boss. I set the tone. My problem is their problem... I guess that sounds crazy."

"Kris, we need to keep talking. Come with me." I gently led him to the door. We put on our coats and walked out into the freezing air. It was still dark and would be dark most of the day. The sun only rose a couple of hours a day that time of year. We crunched through the snow over to the Motel. I went in and rented a room. Kris was nervous. Perhaps he was nervous that we'd end up fucking... but I think he was just afraid to tell me his story. 

We walked silently to our second floor room. I felt a rising wave of anticipation. I had no intention of sleeping with him, but still, somewhere deep inside, the old me was screaming, "FUCK SANTA!!" The room was small, but warm. There were two beds. We didn't take off our coats, afraid that would imply intimacy. We sat on the beds, looking at each other across the gap.

Two silent minutes passed. We were both waiting for the other to begin.

I cleared my throat and said, "I know you're Santa Claus."

The expression on his face... you could have knocked him over with a candy cane. That was the last thing on earth he expected me to say.

"You... what?"

"It's okay Kris. I know."

He looked at me for several seconds, then said, "Did you just say, 'I know you're Santa Claus?' You're joking, right?"

"Oh, don't be coy, Kris. I knew you the moment I saw you."

"Look, Virginia. I'm just a fat guy with a white beard. Sure, I look like Santa Claus I guess. But... I'm not actually..." He started to chuckle, "Oh! You're pulling my leg!"

But I just looked at him as seriously as I could and said, "You're Santa Claus. Kris Kringle. Saint Nicholas. Father Christmas. Pere Noel..."

"This is getting weird," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "Please tell me you're joking."

I looked at him with compassion, "I understand. You have a secret identity to protect. I get that. But the stakes are too high for pussy footing around. Christmas is in danger! You said it yourself: if we can't be honest, how can we face our mistakes?"

He stood up and started sidling to the door. "I... uh, I don't know who you think I am... but this is just too weird." He put his hand on the doorknob.

"I fuck Santas," I said. That stopped him. He looked at me with a crazy expression. "That Mr. Right I was talking about before, well that was just a euphemism. My Mr. Right is Santa Claus. I spent two years looking for Santa and fucking anyone who resembled him. And it was all because of that lousy lump of coal you left on my floor three years ago."

An angry look flashed in his eyes, "What are you... what is this? Oh, I get this, you've been chasing me because I look like Santa, is that it? What kind of freak are you?"

I felt calm. More calm than any time in my life. I knew what I had to say. It would hurt, but I had to do it. I had to get through to him somehow. 

"Why did you leave me that lump of coal, Kris? I mean, I know you like my cookies, but that was pretty harsh. It sort of fucked up my life, you know? I lost my job. I lost my innocence. I left my family and friends behind to chase you across the continent, just so I could apologize for offending you. It wasn't all your fault, and I'm glad I finally found you... but still, I want to know. Why the lump of coal? Was I really that naughty?"




Santa Claus: Sex Addict



He opened the door, his face contorting in rage, confusion, and shame. He walked stiffly out into the falling snowflakes. I followed slowly and calmly. I leaned on the railing as I watched him stumble down the icy stairs and storm across the parking lot below me. He slipped on a patch of ice and fell on his back with a bang. Then he just lay there, hands on his face, sobbing like a baby. I calmly walked down the stairs and carefully across the slick parking lot. I squatted next to him. 

"Come back inside." I pulled his hand from his sobbing face, helped him to his feet and led him slowly back to the room. This time I sat next to him on the bed, my arm around his back. 

He sobbed for a while then began to blubber, "You threw the tree out the window!"

"So, it wasn't the cookies after all!" I said in surprise.

"No. I love your cookies. But I have this thing about Christmas trees. It really pissed me off, you know? I have issues, I guess. I was intending to give you a cooking set..."

"Cooking set," I said the same time he did, "Yeah, that's right. I asked for a cooking set with red enamel and little dancing elves on the side..."

He sniffed, "Yes, just so. I felt so bad about the coal, I kept the cooking set all year, just so I could give it to you the following Christmas."

I smiled. "Really? You gave me a present?"

"What...? Didn't you get it?"

"I was burglarized, Kris. They took everything."

"Oh no..." he said with a horrified expression on his face, "I'm so sorry... I didn't know... Oh, you should have seen it! It was beautiful! The elves spent twenty whole minutes making it for you."

I gave him a squeeze, "That's okay. I guess I deserved to have it stolen. I was extra naughty that year. And I'm sorry about the tree. More than you even know. All my ornaments were on that tree. Some of them belonged to my grandma. She brought them all the way from Iceland."

"Anna? I remember her. She was very nice."

"I'm sorry about everything Kris. I shouldn't have listened to my sister."

"Stephanie, eh? She was always the naughty one in your house. But I gave her presents anyway because the rest of you were so good. What did Stephanie do?" 

"She said my parents were sneaking into my apartment leaving presents for me from you."

He laughed, "And you believed that?"

"I'm sorry, Santa." He put his arm over my shoulder and hugged me into his side. 

"I'm sorry too, Virginia." 

I threw my arms around Kris Kringle and hopped on his lap. I hugged him so hard, if he'd been anyone other that Father Christmas, I'd have crushed his bones. But Kris hugged me back with his strong, ancient arms. I looked into his weeping blue eyes and tenderly kissed his eyelids, feeling his magical tears wet on my lips. Then I kissed his face, slowly, peck-by-peck, down his nose and rosy cheeks until our lips met. His silky beard softy tickled my face. We kissed slowly, almost shyly at first but the passion between us was building fast. I felt an erection growing in his pants. A very BIG one, in fact!

I hopped off his lap and said, "We can't do this Kris. Not now. Not yet."

"Virginia," he said, his deep voice thick with lust, "I want to make love to you so bad." 

"I know, I know," I said, giving him a kiss on his rosy cheek. "But not until we save Christmas."

That night Kris Kringle laid down on the other bed and told me everything. If you thought my story was crazy. Wait till you hear his!

PART 4

SANTA'S SLOW DESCENT INTO DEPRAVITY

My world has always been one of wonder and joy, music, snow, the laughter of children and good will to men. But all good things must come to an end, they say.

My slow descent into depravity all began with the sex toys.

They weren't my idea. They were Mary's. That's Mrs. Claus to you. I met my wife so long ago, I could hardly remember what made me fall in love with her in the first place, although it was probably her beauty. We were happy in those golden days of yore, but for the last fifty years or so, we'd been sort of going through the motions. We barely had anything to say to each other anymore. People change, I guess, even immortals. 

We weren't intimate anymore. Hell, we hadn't had sex since 1985. And that was only because we'd just gone to see 'Santa Claus, the Movie', and she was happy about how good she came off in the film. After drinking a bit too much hot toddy that evening, she started getting frisky. Well, that was fine with me. I'd always thought she was a beautiful woman. She doesn't look like they always depict her, you know. She hasn't aged a day since the moment I fell in love with her on that Bavarian mountainside in 1702. She still looked twenty-two, with red hair and a shapely figure, long legs, beautiful ass and large breasts. Absolutely 'smokin' hot', as they say these days. She was a tall girl, almost six foot three. In heels, she towered over me. A true Bavarian beauty! So when she started getting feisty after the movie, I looked forward to a good old-fashioned roll in the snow, but it was just as disappointing as ever. She quickly lost interest, and I couldn't maintain an erection. It was a dud all around. To tell you the truth, Mary had always been a bit of a cold fish. For the first hundred years or so she'd indulged my passions, but she'd never seemed all that interested in sex. Or at least not that interested in having sex with me. Why else would we have been childless after two centuries together, the only two humans at the North Pole? We stopped having sex entirely after that sad encounter.

So when, just over a year ago, Mary came to me with the sex toy idea, well... I was just flat out flabbergasted.

She called me into her plush office on the third floor. She was sitting at her computer, her red hair pulled up into the enormous bun she liked to wear. I so much preferred when she let her hair down, but it had been in a bun since the mid seventies. She was looking particularly fetching that day in a tight red dress with white fur lining. It was low cut. She hadn't dressed that way for ages. My eyes twinkled at the almost forgotten sight of her cleavage. But I knew she'd dressed up for a reason. The last time she did this she'd talked me into building her this office, which was three times larger than my own. She was a very persuasive woman!

"Kris, we need to expand. We're reaching the kids, yes, but as soon as some idiot tells them you don't exist, well, they stop writing."

"I know, Mary, but the world population is growing every year. I'm not sure it's a good idea to expand. I'm not sure it's even possible to find more believers."

"Kris, just hear me out." She pushed a button on her computer, and a group of female elves scampered out of a tiny little door. They began to turn a series of cranks, lowering an enormous projection screen over the crystal windows that lined one wall of her office. Then a PowerPoint presentation came on. The first slide was a complicated flowchart. Mary flashed me her best smile and said, "As you can see from this chart here, the age of disbelief is getting younger and younger, outpacing the increasing population. Manufacturing facility four and five have gone unused for almost ten years! You don't want to even know how many elves have been living off the dole, waiting for work to pick up. It's not a good situation."

This wasn't news to me. "Well, what do you have in mind? We've tried everything to keep kids believing. Cartoon shows, video games, promotional toys at fast food joints... but it's just not working."

She flipped to another slide, "Not exactly true, Kris. This slide shows that there is a significant population of adult women who still believe in you. Almost twenty million, based on this list of believers."

"Yes I know. Women tend to have a greater capacity for magical thinking. But the majority of them don't write letters after they grow up. We only deliver presents to people who ask."

"Kris!" she snapped, as if I was the biggest idiot in the world. Was I missing something? Mary always had a great mind for business, but I had a hard time following her sometimes.

She calmed herself and said with exaggerated calmness, "Okay Kris, we've talked about this before. I've always said that's a stupid policy. Okay, it makes sense for minors. Parents wouldn't like us just sending stuff to kids who don't believe in you anymore. They have enough broken toys lying around the house as it is. But we're talking about adult women here. If we send them something they want, instead of something they asked for, well, who'd be upset? Who'd be hurt? Who'd complain?"

She could get so impatient with me sometimes. "Okay, Mary, okay! I get the point. But if they don't ask for something, how do we know what to give them? They'd probably want clothes, but what sizes are these women? Who's going to take their measurements? I know who's naughty and who's nice, and all of their names, but not their bust sizes!"

Mary gave me an icy look. "No, no, you don't understand what I'm getting at. We don't need to send them highly individualized gifts. We just need to come up with something that every woman wants. What every woman needs... something with that essential Christmas quality. What is it that we make here?"

"Toys?"

"Toys! Precisely. We don't make clothes! That's what parents give. Not Santa Claus! You give toys."

"You want to give toys to grown up women?"

She smiled and stood. Her dress was not only low cut, it was short too! Wow, she had some gorgeous gams. She was wearing high heels. I hadn't seen her in anything but sneakers since the sixties. Boy, they made her legs look great! And I don't think I'd seen such a gleeful expression on her face since 'Santa Claus -- the Movie'. She clapped her hands and the female elves turned the cranks again, raising the projection screen out of sight. Mary walked over to a large table I hadn't noticed before. I couldn't take my eyes off her ass. She'd been dressing so dowdy for so many years, I barely recognized her backside. She directed my attention to a table which was covered with a large draped piece of red silk. I could make out the lumps of maybe twenty or thirty objects under the material. She took a corner of the silk in her hand and looked at me.

"Kris, I want you to try to keep an open mind here."

"Uh... Okay."

She whipped away the silk cloth, revealing a bunch of bizarre objects. I didn't know what I was looking at. But suddenly it dawned on me that a few of these items looked suspiciously like male genitalia! On closer inspection, some of them looked like female genitalia too. One of them was nothing but a big pair of disembodied breasts, painted with amazing realism. I also saw a large box next to the table that was unopened, but had pictures showing what was inside... a freakishly realistic female sex doll. 

"Mary," I said. "You... uh... want me to deliver... these things as Christmas presents?"

"Not these things, Kris! I bought these out of a catalogue for research purposes."

"Research?"

"Well... I don't know which of these items are actually... you know... most effective. I've never actually used a sex toy. So we'll need to test them a bit and use the findings to design our own. We really only need one or two designs, manufactured here with the superior quality only we can achieve. But by restricting it to one or two models, you won't need to kill yourself remembering which present to give to which woman. You just need to make sure that you separate the children's toys from the women's toys. Besides, we only have a few months until Christmas so we need to assembly line these things to get them out in time. But maybe next year, if things go well, we could expand the line."

By that time, my mind was officially blown. A hundred thoughts were whirling through my noggin. It was an insane idea, but it made a perverse kind of sense. And Mary's ass looked so luscious in that short red dress... her breasts were almost falling out of the top. I kept thinking, 'research?' I wondered if she meant... that she and I would do this research together? Gulp. That was really an exciting idea to me. Not just having sex with Mary, but having sex with this new, sexy, energized Mary. It could be just the thing to reinvigorate our sex life. 

That's the moment I drank the Kool-Aid.

"So... Okay... Research... yes, that sounds like a good plan... uh, how, uh, do you suggest this research thing would be, uh, accomplished?"

She smiled at me, relief transforming her often-severe features. She threw her arms around me and kissed me on the lips... for a second. "Oh Kris, I knew you'd get it! Don't worry, I have it all planned out. What are elves for, after all, but for working out this sort of thing?"

Elves? Shoot. "But, Mary... the elves aren't human. If they tested these toys... well the results would be unreliable."

She thought about that for a while. But the way the thought about it, so cutely, holding her elbow in her hand and tapping the tip of her nose with her finger, told me she had the answer to my question already in mind, but wanted to pretend she was thinking it up on the spot.

"Good question, Kris. Good question. You're not Santa Claus for nothing. I suppose... I suppose that since I'm the only woman on the North Pole, I'll have to test these toys myself."

I smiled, "That's a good idea, Mary. I'll be happy to help..."

"Oh, you're too busy for that kind of thing. My elves can help me."

"But..." It was a crushing disappointment. 

She saw the look on my face and realizing that I might call off the whole thing said, "But of course, you'll need to look in from time to time. You know, observe. These toys will be used mostly by women for their own pleasure, so I need to see how well they work without a man in the room... other than, perhaps watching through a window or something. Yes, that would be good. We'll set up an observation room for you. But you shouldn't interrupt the tests. That wouldn't be... scientific."

It wasn't what I had in mind... and I could always call it off later... but the thought of watching her test these toys... well it was still pretty exciting. And she looked so happy, all I could do was give her a thumbs up sign. 

Later that week her tests began. 

But first, let me tell you a little about elves.

Elves are magical, immortal creatures, who have their own language, culture, and customs, most of which are a mystery to me. The elves of the North Pole were bound to me in ancient times by... well, maybe I don't need to go that far back. Suffice it to say that they are literally Santa's elves. They pretty much do my bidding, selflessly and eagerly. I have always had a joyful, loving heart, therefore so do they. You could say that they're linked somehow to my psyche, though not all of them. I've noticed over the centuries that a small percentage of female elves are more loyal to Mary than me. Perhaps the ancient forces that bound the elves to me, made a provision for my future wife. But for whatever reason, Mary had complete command of a group of thirty female elves. The other ten thousand and two were mine.

Still she put those thirty female elves to good use during her tests. When she first told me her plan I was worried how the elves might react, but I needn't have worried. Elves don't think like humans. 

Elves are about four feet tall, more or less, but aren't stocky like human little people. No, they are proportionally similar to humans, just smaller, but with disproportionately larger heads, hands and feet. Their fingers, in particular, are quite long and nimble, which makes them so good at toy making. They're ancient creatures, but if you saw one, you'd probably think they were in their twenties or thirties. In spite of their size, they don't look anything like children. Even those with youthful faces have something in their eyes that makes them feel ancient. They have long pointy ears, as you might already know, and slanty elfin eyes. Their bodies come in a variety of shapes, but all of them, no matter how fat or muscular, are really quite delicate and beautiful to behold. They have blue skin, of various shades and hues, ranging from snow white, to indigo blue. Some of them are almost green, but those ones are rare. Their skin sparkles, as if there are tiny flecks of glitter all over their bodies, but this glittery stuff is actually luminescent and appears to move about under the surface of their skin. They glow faintly in the dark, the glitter rippling with pale colors. It's kind of eerie to behold so I usually keep the factory brightly illuminated. 

Elves have long white hair, which they enjoy braiding up in various ways, based on ancient Celtic knot patterns, or maybe Celtic knots are based on elfin hair... I'm not sure which came first. It's really the only art I never taught them. Everything else: the factory, the toys, their clothing, those were all my designs. Left to their own devices, elves would go nude and live in holes in the ice, but they were happy to dress as I wanted them to and live in the village I designed for them. Back when I set those rules, I was a bit of a stick in the mud myself. I didn't like them walking around naked, probably because they were temptingly beautiful. Both male and female elves are quite... sexy, I guess, in a weird alien way. Particularly the females. So, from the very beginning, I made them were silly red and green lederhosen with the big pointy shoes and jingling bells. I did this, essentially, to desexualize them and it worked. I'd pretty much stopped thinking about them as sexual beings long, long ago. Actually, I didn't know, or care to know, anything about the sex lives of elves. All I knew was that they didn't have babies very often. Maybe only one or two a year, more if the demand for toys was increasing. But after toy demand slowed down twenty years ago, the elves stopped reproducing entirely. Now the entire elf population were adults. That wasn't a problem. Accidents aside, they were immortal. 

It's difficult to befriend an elf. They are so eager to please, there's no back and forth with them. I thought my status as their eternal boss was an insurmountable social barrier between us. We understood each other's languages, but I really wasn't part of their personal world after closing time. I'd hear them whooping it up in their little village, having parties that I was never invited to and feeling generally left out. I guess that's why I befriended the reindeer. They're more open to conversation, though they enjoy talking about hay way too much, and I really don't like playing their reindeer games. They can get pretty competitive and mean. Well, you probably heard how they hazed Rudolph that time. 

And since Mary and I had drifted apart, I'd sort of gotten used to living a lonely life of isolation in which every year was the same as every other. 

Mary's sex toy experiment was a welcome change of pace. I could feel the energy spreading through the factory as word got out of what was going on. Mary set up a special test room on the fourth floor, where we used to make cowboy toys, before they went out of fashion. I tried to visit several times that first week, but Mary's elves told me the tests were only beginning and Mary was too shy to share the results just yet. But after my third attempt, I pulled rank and pretty much barged in. The elves apparently were prepared for that contingency, so they led me to a special viewing room that had been set up just for me, where I could watch the proceedings through a sound proof two way mirror without Mary seeing me, hearing me, or even being aware of my presence. The room had a great big plush couch for me to sit in, and Mary's elves asked if I wanted any refreshments.

I didn't even hear the question. My eyes were riveted by what I saw going on in the test room. Mary was naked, on her back, in a big fluffy bed, working a vibrating rubber cock in and out of her vagina. She was enjoying herself immensely. Three female elves, dressed in white robes, were sitting around her. One was taking notes in a little book. The other two were just watching, their heads cocked to the side with fascinated expressions on their faces.