A Christmas Story


It was my annual work Christmas celebration. Always a good time, nice to leave the constraints of the workplace behind and lighten up the pace a bit.

A surprise visit from Santa had everyone questioning who had set it up and who the man behind the beard was. During all the chatter and drinking, each woman took their turn sitting on Santa’s lap. I was last to take my place and give my run down of my list and the confirmation of my niceness, not forgetting to also touch upon a bit of my naughtiness. After all, there’s no fooling Santa; I had to come clean.

By that time, most of the group was spread throughout the house, continuing their own conversations and not paying much attention to what was being shared with the main guest. My husband escorted me over to Santa and remarked to him, that he “thought I had been a pretty good girl” and for him to ensure I got all that I asked for; little did he know. Another party goer then summoned him into a conversation and he was on his way leaving me alone to speak freely.

As I warmly greeted Santa, I wrapped my arm around his neck and sat on his inviting lap. I was well aware of the amount of cleavage I was showing and how my already non-conservative skirt length had risen dangerously farther up than it should have. The top of my thigh highs and then some were clearly being exhibited, my sexy high heels nicely finished the look. I figured since I was about to share some racy details about the year, that what the special guest was viewing would pale in comparison.

“So Karen, have you indeed been a good girl?

Impressed, but then rationalizing that Santa really should know my name, I gave a hesitant, “Yes…for the most part.” answer. I blushed when asked to elaborate. Hmmm, the thoughts of being overheard raced through my mind so I whispered to Santa “Although I’m quite comfortable on your lap, I think it would be best if I shared the details of my naughtiness with you somewhere a little more private.”

If I’m completely honest, the thoughts of what I was about to share was making me moist and since I was pantyless, I also feared leaving a telltale sign on Santa’s red velvet bottoms. What would Mrs. Claus say?

Santa nodded to my suggestion and we agreed to meet upstairs in a few minutes time. As he made a silent exit, I joined the others, chatted for a bit, freshened my drink and took the liberty of making a strong one for the man about to hear my story – I figured he would need it. As I made my way up the stairs, I had to admit I was excited that I would finally be sharing my secret. There was also no denying how wet my pussy was becoming.

When I entered the room, Santa looked at home in a big comfy chair and immediately motioned for me to take my place back on his lap. I caught my breath and happily obliged. Passing him his drink, I held my glass up to his and made a toast to the tireless work he did, after-all, hearing confessions such as mine is no easy task, and I extended my toast to include good girls gone slightly bad.

“So…?”, Santa questioned. I finished my liquid courage and began my confession, ensuring my way from the nice list to the sinful naughty list. “There’s another man in my life and I’m crazy about him. I know how wrong that is, but he makes me so happy. I don’t understand how something so good can be so bad.” I went on to explain all the joy this man, with whom I fell in love with, brought to my life.

After intently listening, isveçbahis Santa nodded and surprised me when he acknowledged my feelings and simply shrugged when he said “Sometimes things in life happen like that and there’s no explaining why.”

I thought maybe I’d gotten myself off the bad girl list before I had even gotten on it! However, the questioning didn’t end there. The main man wanted to delve deeper, as he enquired “What really makes you naughty?”

If I hadn’t noticed Santa staring a little longer than he should have at the generous amount of bosom I was showing, felt his hands higher up my leg than they should have been, and even detected some hardness against my thigh, I would have left it at what I had already divulged. It was apparent that he wanted details of a sexual nature.

“Santa, are you asking me to be explicit? Do you want specific details?” I erred on the side of caution as I was suddenly uncharacteristically shy and wanted to ensure Santa was prepared for my admission of guilty pleasures.

“I don’t think loving somebody makes you naughty, Karen.” “But Santa, I am married and I have to mention, the special man in my life is as well.” “So, it’s strictly an emotional relationship?” he queried.

Aware that my reddening cheeks were answering his question, I completely let my guard down. “No, it’s also a very sexually charged relationship. One that pleases us both and leaves us wanting more.”

He pondered and said, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be the judge of your real naughtiness. Share with me some of your experiences.”

The arousal that had traveled throughout me earlier had only gotten stronger while on the lap of my childhood holiday hero. Honestly, the slight tabooness of the scene was making me hot and horny, and the erection that was now unmistakable against my leg was also heightening my libido. On top of that, detailing my sexual experiences was doing a quite a number on me.

To help ease me into the conversation, Santa prompted, “Tell me, your first time meeting, was there sex involved?”

Again, I blushed, remembering our first date and the happenings. In his law office in the boardroom on what would have otherwise been a quiet Sunday summer morning. And NO surprise, more wetness.

“Yes, there was.” Biting my lip I continued to explain because we initially met online our communication was exceptional. That included all facets of getting to know each other, not excluding our sexual desires. When we discussed our first time being in each other’s physical presence, I made the offer that I would simply drop to my knees and suck him off, no talking. In reality that is close to what happened but only after passionately kissing and a lot of hands-on exploring of each other’s bodies.

Santa listened intently. My breathing quickened and I’m sure could be heard by him. “And, were there words spoken?” he questioned. He was now going to hear my admittance of one of the most sexually exciting moments of my life.

As I was getting lost in my story, Santa was gently touching my hair with one hand while his other was rubbing the top inside of my leg. I stopped for a moment to enjoy his caressing and noticed a bit of familiar want in his eyes. It was then when he took his gloves off and resumed his caressing, that my heart skipped a beat and my cunt slightly spasmed. The softness of his hands were unmistakable. How could I not know until then?

I composed myself isveçbahis giriş and hoped my initial pleased reaction didn’t reveal that I recognized the man behind the beard. Of course…more wetness.

“If you must know, Santa, my words to my new found lover as we looked into the other’s eyes were, “Are you ready?'” No explanation as to what I was referring to was necessary. “His name is Robert, Santa and no words were spoken, he simply nodded.” I then asked him, “Would you like to stand or sit?” to which he responded “I’ll stand.”

Leaning into my red and white beclothed lover, my 38DD tits now nicely pushed together and my skirt rising even farther up, I put one arm around his neck and the other on his chest and whispered, “He was naïve to think he could actually remain on his feet for one of my blow jobs; I suggested he sit.” As I moved back, my hand innocently yet purposely skimmed over his groin, his cock was now fully attentive. “Would you like me reenact the scene, Santa?” Mirroring the original response, my question was answered with a simple nod.

I slithered off the comfort of his lap, my sexual prowess in high gear and helped in pulling down his pants. On my knees, I took his cock in my hands, looked up at him and kept my eyes glued on his while I traced my lips with the tip of his hard-on; my lips glistened. My tongue lapped up the remainder of his precum followed with my mouth sliding over the object of its affection. While I kept a slow sensual rhythm, my lover’s hands took their place on the back of my head. His soft hands excitingly juxtaposed driven by the need for a bit of roughness.

It seemed his cock desired to fuck my mouth and not merely make love to it. My teasingly slow manner had in turn gotten me exactly what I wanted, a man in control. As his shaft sought out the back of my throat, I could no longer ignore the ache of my pussy.

My fingers glided across my cunt lips, the mere touch made me loudly moan. I eagerly found my clit and rubbed it gently. I was on the brink of orgasm and knew I only had to slide my finger into my pussy to end the self inflicted agony. The wetness easily paved the way from rubbing to fingering which was more than welcomed. The immediate reaction of a satisfying orgasm was noted by the pleasure shown on my face and my cum drenched finger.

I momentarily abandoned Santa’s dick from the confines of my warm mouth and purred to him, “Does this make me a naughty girl, Santa?”

“It makes you a very naughty girl but not to worry, you still have something coming.” His play on words sent me hungrily back to his cock. I was behaving more impatiently than anything; I wanted my personalized present from Santa and it was apparent by the way I was devouring him.

Teasingly looking up at him, I unbuttoned my blouse to reveal a sexy red laced shelf bra, my nipples erect, my tits swaying with each stroke of my mouth. Santa looked pleased, even more so as he watched me slip my finger once again into my cunt followed up with the basting of my nipples from my own juices and again drenching my fingers only to coat his dick just as generously as I did my nipples.

He watched as my tongue rimmed the tip of his cock and then slid up and down him; the taste of my own cum served to awaken my pussy’s need to be fucked. It was apparent that my lover was close to draining his excitement down my throat. I selfishly stopped sucking him off and told him, “I need you to fuck me.” isveçbahis yeni giriş As much as I was craving a drink of his cum, more than that I ached for his cock in my warm wet cunt.

Since he was seated so comfortably, I decided I would climb on top of him and ride the both of us to ecstasy. Straddling him, I spread my cunt lips and guided his hardness into me. It felt so good, I moaned with pleasure and continued moving my hips in a circular motion while driving my wanting pussy up and down him.

The view of my tits bouncing to mirror my movements were not enough for Santa. He sensually took one nipple in his mouth while the other was being tugged at. So sensitive are my nipples that it wasn’t long before I moaned out yet again that I was going to cum on him.

Although I was in total control of how fast and hard we were fucking, typical of my passive side I needed my lover’s permission to lose myself in orgasm. I begged him to tell me to cum. He was enjoying watching my struggle of holding back.

“Please, tell me I’m allowed to cum. Let me cum on your fucking cock. Tell me to cum on your cock, fuck I beg you.” Santa had put me through enough waiting and finally ended my anguish.

“Cum for me, Sweetheart. Cum now. Cum on my cock”. With pleasure I felt my cunt pulsate around him, heard the sound of more wetness, and enjoyed another satisfying orgasm. God, I love this man.

My lips next to his ear, I questioned, “Where do you want your cum?” Knowing he loves the fact that he owns me, I sensually added on “Sir”.

I then offered him his choices, “Would you like your cum deep in my cunt, covering my titties, splattered on my face or coating my mouth?” As he carefully considered his options, it was apparent he needed to decide quickly; Santa’s present to me was almost mine. “How would you like it if I simply knelt in front of you, stroked your cock and enjoyed your cum a few ways?”

My Master in disguise gave me the go ahead, “I’ll allow you to decide.” He was literally in good hands. I found his lips, kissed him passionately, and told him to sit back and enjoy.

Although the thought of having his cum slowly drip down from my cunt over the next few hours turned me on, I knew the visual I had decided on would be just as pleasing to both myself and my man. Dismounting his cock, I found my way back to my original position.

On my knees for his pleasure once again, I took his hardness in my hand. Stroking his shaft was effortless thanks to the wetness of my cum. In anticipation of Santa’s gift to me I teasingly alternated the tip of his cock from nipple to nipple, to rubbing against the smoothness of my cheek.

“Can I have my present now, Santa? I’m trying to be a good girl.” With that, I vigorously stroked him to orgasm. The fruits of my labor shooting onto my titties, and then my face and finally, wrapping my mouth around his cock, down my throat. Such a lovely sight and taste.

Spent, my lover melted into the chair and savoured the moment. Pleased with myself, I knelt back for a moment, with an undeniable look of satisfaction.

I cleaned up the telltale signs of our sexual tryst, straightened out my skirt, buttoned my blouse, while Santa properly suited up. He sat down and once again I found my place on his lap.

My arm around his neck, his around my waist, we smiled warmly at each other. “Merry Christmas, Darling. Thank you for surprising me tonight. I love you so much.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Honey. Tonight was my pleasure. I love you too. Now no more naughtiness from you, at least not until the next time we’re together!”

We shared a last kiss together and then each went on our merry way!

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