All I Want For Christmas…

Terry knew it was silly, but she liked to leave a glass of sherry and a plate of shortbread out for the old guy in the red suit. And a couple of carrots for the reindeer. All her friends teased her every year. But she always said everything was gone when she got up Christmas morning, so he must have been there!

Her girlfriend Elaine said that, at 39, Terry must be getting too old to believe in Santa Claus, “come on, girl, get with it!” Her voice would drip with just a little distain and a lot of disbelief. “This is the prime reason you can’t get yourself a man. No intelligent guy wants to go out with such a dreamer!”

Terry had been invited to two Christmas Eve parties. She knew exactly what would happen at each one. Elaine’s party would be high-brow, champagne and caviar – but they’d all get sloshed and put each other down… and put the moves on someone. Tom’s party would be more beer and taco chips, but the end result would be the same. She was tired of fending off the advances of Elaine’s creepy accountant boyfriend, or Tom’s alcoholic brother. She’d told each of them she was attending the other’s party. But this year, she was staying home.

She cooked herself a delicious supper and had several glasses of warm smooth Merlot. She cleaned up, put on a disco CD, and danced around the living room. Her tree, decorated with winking lights, little teddy bears, wee bunny rabbits, and tiny Santa’s, was reflected in the window. She fingered the gifts under the tree, laughing and telling herself, ‘No, we have to wait until Christmas!’

She had a lovely long bubble bath, read a few chapters of her book, drinking her wine, enjoying the sensation of the bubbly hot water against her skin. She shaved her legs. After she’d dried herself off, she rubbed delicious smelling cream all over her body… over and under her DD breasts, into her generous belly, into the cheeks of her extra-large ass, down each full-figured leg. She went back into the living room and picked up a gaily wrapped present from under the tree. She tore open the wrapping and opened the box. A silky red negligee nestled in the tissue paper. She slipped it over her head.

Humming, she went into the kitchen bostancı escort and poured two glasses of wine. She opened a tin and filled a plate with shortbread. She got a tray from the cupboard and arranged the wine and the shortbread on it. She added carrots, napkins, and a few pieces of ivy from the decorations on the mantel. She brought the tray into the living room and set it down on a low table next to the fireplace. She added a log to the fire. Next she turned off all the lights, except the tree, and lay down on the couch.

The silk felt so good next to her skin. Her hands roved over her breasts, down to her waist. “Here I am Santa,” she whispered. “A present for you.” She smiled. Her body felt so warm and relaxed. Her mind drifted. Her eyes closed. She fell asleep.

Santa jumped nimbly down the chimney, passing over the flames of the dying fire and rematerializing on the hearth. “Look at that,” he said, “I usually get sherry. Tonight it’s wine.” He dropped his bulging bag on the floor, took off his gloves, and lifted up a wine glass. He took a generous sip. “Wonderful,” he said. He took a package from his bag and placed underneath the tree. Turning, his eyes fell on the woman sleeping on the couch.

She was beautiful. She had shoulder length blonde hair, soft and frizzy on the pillow. Her figure was more than generous – it was Rubenesque. Her hips were wide and luscious. Her breasts were large and pendulous. Her belly was round, like a well-stuffed pillow. The red silk nightgown was short and showed the full length of her shapely legs. His breath caught in his throat.

He pulled a notebook from his pocket and checked her name. Terry. He read the notes below her name. “Hmmmmm.”

She stirred. Her eyelids fluttered. She caught sight of him and sat up.

“Hi,” he said, fingering his long white beard.

“Hi Santa,” she smiled.

“I wonder,” he chided her, “have you been a good girl?”

“No,” she grinned.

“Ho, ho, ho! In that case,” he strode over to the couch and sat down beside her. He shrugged off his red jacket. He took her hand and pulled her until she was lying face-down on his lap.

“Naughty ataşehir escort girls deserve spankings for Christmas.”

“Yes, Santa,” her voice was meek.

He pulled up her nightie until the big cheeks of her wide ass were revealed. Her skin was pink, soft, quivering. He lifted his hand and began to slap her ass, the sound resounding in the room. She wriggled.

“Santa wants his girls to be good,” he told her as he struck each cheek a dozen times.

“Yes sir.”

“Now,” he said, pushing her off his lap. She slid onto the floor. “You will give Santa head.”

He unzipped his red wool trousers and pulled out his cock. It was half erect. Terry knelt between his legs, tossed back her hair, put her hands on his knees, and her mouth on his cock. Her red ruby lips closed around him, and she sucked softly. Her hands rose up, dug his t-shirt out from his belt, and flitted across his chest. She took him deep in her mouth as her fingers caressed his nipples. He put his hands on her head and thrust his hips up to meet her as she sucked him. His cock hardened as her sweet hands dug deep and cupped his balls, her body tense as she serviced him, her head rising and falling, her tongue flicking, tasting. She grasped the bottom of his cock with one hand, her fingers pulsing, as she took his cock to the depths of her warm wet mouth. He shuddered.

“Let me taste you,” he said, pulling her abruptly up. “Stand there, in front of me.” She did as she was told. “Lift up your gown, show me your pussy.” She slowly raised the red silk gown until her fat golden bush was revealed. Her soft belly hung down, pale pink. “Come here,” he grabbed her big hips and brought her close, his head slipping under her gown, his mouth seeking her. She gasped as he gripped her ass hard and thrust his open mouth onto her clit. He pushed her belly up and turned his head sideways, flicking his tongue over her clit, wet, warm, wonderful. His hands pulled her, hard, towards him. She shivered.

He pushed her away for a moment and stood up. He took her hand and brought her to the end of the couch, making her lie down so her hips were supported by its arm, çekmeköy escort her legs over his shoulders, her belly and breasts falling away towards her face.

He ate her.

His tongue went deep into her pussy, tasting the luscious honey of her cum. His lips kissed her bush over and over again. She shuddered. She came. Still he ate her, his tongue roving deep, drinking every ounce of cum, tasting her, suckling her engorged clit until she thought she would go mad.

“Turn over,” he commanded. She moved so that she was kneeling on the couch, her fleshy ass to him, her breasts touching the back of the seat. He ran his hands over her plump body. He gripped the love handles around her waist and pulled her to him, his cock seeking her pussy. He found the entrance, and swiftly thrust deep inside her. She gasped. One of his hands squeezed a breast, the other slipped over her belly and down. His fingers caressed her clit in tiny soft circles as his cock pounded into her pussy from behind.

She was so warm inside. He could feel the pulsating shivers of yet another orgasm. Her cum engulfed his cock, her pussy gripped him, she trembled in his arms and moaned. Cum dripped from her pussy.

He slapped her ass.

“Oh, yes,” she cried. His left hand returned to her clit, teasing, stroking. With his other hand, he hit her ass. She began to shudder. He slapped her ass again, she moaned as dark heat tore through her body, taking her high. Her hot pussy clenched at his cock, and he felt the heat rise from his balls, into his cock. Her cum flooded her hole. He thrust himself deep, gasping as he came.

He ran his hands over her generous body, so beautifully plump and ripe. He kissed her. He shrugged on his jacket and straightened up his clothing. Then he put his arms around her and pulled her close for a few minutes.

Getting up, Santa went over to the fireplace and drank down the wine she’d left for him. Terry sat on the couch, watching him, smiling. He put a shortbread cookie in his mouth. “Hmmmm, good,” he said, his eyes twinkling at her.

Then he put his right index finger to the side of his nose, and disappeared. He rematerialized on the roof, and the waiting reindeer sprang up into their places as he got into his sleigh. “Off we go,” he cried. He took another shortbread cookie from his pocket and put it in his mouth. He could still taste Terry’s cum on his lips.

Too bad he’d have to wait until next year for another delicious Christmas fuck.