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Introduction:

Who ever said that Santa only brings to little boys and girls? Not to mention to only those who have been nice.

I sipped the cool bubbly from the glass, finishing the last of it and ready for more. The bottle was much lighter now, making it easier to lift and tilt so that I could once again see the crisp sparkling wine pour into my now empty flute. The last drops lingered on the lip of the bottle before falling in. One more glass.

The warmth of the fire tickled my body, keeping me comfortable considering my lack of clothing. A red satin and lace crotchless tanga paired with a sheer cami with a tie in front. Ready for play and seduction. With the kids away, I had no inhibitions. Problem was my hubby was out of town. Christmas Eve and I was alone. It was mostly by choice as I did not feel the need to socialize with relatives nor feel like acting as a guest at some other gathering. Sure parties were an alternative, but I had my own alcohol and was able to walk freely in my lingerie.

Remembering an old comic strip, I wrote Santa a seductive note; “Ran out of cookies and milk, so here is your treat.” Then drew an arrow pointing to me. Placed it on a plate and fantasized about what could happen. One more sip before sliding my hand down my belly, to my panties. Wearing crotchless panties, I had no trouble feeling my way down to my clit. Shifting my bum a bit more forward, I spread my legs and offered the fireplace full unobstructed view. My fingers eagerly split the lace and offered myself to the dancing fire.

For a moment, I paused, feeling the flames reach out towards me. I parted my lips and allowed the fiery tentacles to enter me. Gentle heat caressed my insides, getting me wetter than I thought I could without direct stimulation. As if able to wrap the flames around my finger, I twisted it, gathered the fire and drove it into me; A welcomed pleasure. But the alcohol and the night were taking me into their arms, lulling me to a comfortable sleep.

A faint rustle stirred me, but did not wake me from my sleep, just enough to be conscious that something was happening. A sweet smell of milk and cookies filled the room: Fresh baked and just out of the oven. But it was not a reminiscent feeling of my childhood, rather it stirred in me a tingling feeling that had the tiny hairs on my body on end. It was then I felt a strange wisp of air against my face. A subtle hint of peppermint that intensified just before a pair of lips pressed against mine. There was strength behind them, muscular and firm. I parted mine offering a subtle invitation for his probing tongue.

His hands pressed against my breasts, feeling them, almost sizing them up. Once satisfied, they moved to the ribbon tie and released them. The soft sheer fabric slid open. The air was still warm, not the cool contrast that I half expected. His hand returned, grabbing the soft flesh. Gentle, kneading them carefully, as if he was making cookie dough.

Focusing back on his kiss, I met his tongue and tested his dexterity. It curved and twisted, wrapping itself around mine treating it like a cherry stem. I could only imagine how many knots he could tie. But it was not forceful, more of a teasing coax. Inhaling, a refreshing candy cane memory mixed with hot chocolate, overwhelmed my senses. There was no fear, no panic, it was so easy, so inviting. My body responded to his enticements, warming up even further.

When his mouth moved off of my lips, I wondered if that would be it. Just a simple tease, but when the heat engulfed my engorged mound, all I could do was gasp. Even here, his tongue felt like a curious snake, tickling the nipple before wrapping itself around it. Sliding down, his hands wrapped around my bum and pulled me to the edge of the cushion. Would he go down? A part of me wanted him to devour me with abandon, but a stronger hunger to have his cock inside of me overpowered my fleeting desire.

Maintaining his attention on my breasts, he maneuvered his body between my legs. I was close to an orgasm, panting and moaning, pulling his head to my chest. When his cock slid between the intentional slit in my panties and touched my clit, I screamed. Convulsing violently, I released myself of all my loneliness and self-pity. The cloud of the alcohol cleared and everything became crisp. With each beat of my climax, I felt better, more excited. It was incomprehensible, but the burdens of life evaporated.

I kept my eyes sealed, for fear of killing the dream that had me up in the clouds. Slipping from my breasts, his tongue eased its way up my chest, around my neck and finally into my mouth. In a synchronized moment, his cock introduced itself. It slid in with ease, all the way in, not a hard thrust, tender pressure from his hips and an encouraging pull from his hands on my bum.

I was no proper princess of sex and knew that his cock was not the size I had come to know of my hubby. His was smaller, more slender, which allowed it to enter without complaint, but also without the gasp of pleasure. Not sure if he sensed it or read my mind, but I felt it swell inside of me. A tell tale sign that a man was about to give up his essence. He moved in a smooth motion, like a violin bow sliding across the strings producing a continuous harmony, unbroken by the change in direction. Bigger, longer, I sensed it more than felt it. I gasped in pleasure.

There was no way of measuring how big he was now, but it was pushing the line between pleasure and pain, stretching and pulling my labials as it moved, penetrating deeper than I thought any man could. Even my clit, felt the tug, arousing it to new heights, taking me higher before releasing me. Like the thrill of the first drop on a rollercoaster, my orgasm took my breath away as it crashed into me, between my legs, propelled by his cock, soaring inside of me, through me, out every pour that I had.

He kept going and I was already climbing up for another drop. So much of me wanted to feel him cum inside of me, to feel his energy expelled with amazing force. The journey was speeding him, his cock moved with haste and still I had no idea how high I was being taken. I wanted to release, almost afraid of the potential energy building up. He held me firm, not letting me over the edge, taking me beyond my imagined limits. Shaking and trembling, something big was on the horizon and my body knew it even if it could not comprehend.

Pushing in, pulling out, pausing. His movement blurred in my mind, I felt like a toy being wound up, twist after twist. The spring was tightening, but he wouldn’t let me go. More and more, even my moans worked up into screams. I could hear myself shouting all sorts of phrases learned over the years. Calling out to my maker. No more, I didn’t want to go any further. Perhaps that is what he was waiting for, my exasperated plea.

His cock swelled again, crossing the threshold of pain. I stammered, clenched, gasped, not in agony, but in euphoric shock. My body adjusted allowing me to enjoy this new found size. What usually lasted moments, was working its way into minutes. I had to wonder if it was really a precursor or just another adjustment for my benefit. No matter, I was at my limit and a breadth away from passing out when I felt him. The sudden pressure inside of me, the burst of heat deep within, as he came.

His over sized cock throbbed violently, streaming scorching semen into me. The second burst released me. Every muscle tensed, tingled, a concussive series of movements, something entirely un-Earthly possessed me, as the orgasm released its torrent. Even in my state, I could feel the swell and surges inside me. Fingernails dug into his back, pulling his body into mine, wanting to swallow all of him. My hips thrust, wanting more. His cock gushed, quenching my wanton thirst.

Exhausted and spent, my body sank back into the cushions I had started in. As for him, his cock was still active, twitching with life, but the energy was waning. The end was near and soon he would have to pull away, taking with him something I did not want to give up. With the etiquette of a gentleman, his hands guided me back into my reclined position. Within seconds my mind started its journey back into a state of slumber. The smell of milk and cookies faded. Barely aware, I felt him pull away and leave.

I wanted more but his departure did not leave me discontented. I was left in a state of bliss, basking again in the warmth of the fire. With a whisper of encouragement, the last of the night went dark. I had fallen asleep again.

The morning sun peeked in. All was quiet in the room, no more fire, only the silent blinking of the Christmas lights. I looked over to the plate with my note. Below my scribbling was a mysterious script. All it read was, “Merry Christmas!” with a child like smiley face with its tongue sticking out.

Out of pure curiosity, I looked over to the fireplace and then to the tree. My stocking was full and there was a new gift placed neatly in front of the rest.

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