Christmas shorts

[wildsweetone]

Santa looked across the sky, seeing nothing else moving he decided it was time to descend onto the first roof that he saw as he reached the edge of land.

Unfortunately for Santa, he didn’t reach the land.

Fortunately for Santa, the suit he was wearing held air and helped keep him bouyant in the tumultuous sea.

Unfortunately for Santa, he was strapped into the sleigh.

Fortunately for Santa, one of the presents in his sack was a pocket knife.

Unfortunately for Santa, the pocket knife was at the bottom of the sack that was fast becoming immersed in sea water.

Fortunately for Santa, the reindeer managed to deer paddle and helped keep him afloat, thus giving him enough time to hunt down the elusive pocket knife.

Unfortunately for Santa, it began to rain.

Fortunately for Santa, his vibrant red suit was waterproof.

Unfortunately for Santa, the vibrant red waterproof Santa suit had a hole.

Fortunately for Santa, the long present, jabbing him in the ribs as he sat strapped to the sinking sleigh, was a green and yellow golf umbrella.

Unfortunately for Santa, the golf umbrella was very awkward to open in the high winds, and when he did manage to, it blew inside out.

Fortunately, it stopped raining so he threw the useless golf umbrella into the back of the sleigh.

Unfortunately for Santa, the useless umbrella elicited a frightening squeal from his helper who had been sitting in the back seat the entire journey. So incensed was she, that Santa became dazed as her shoe hit him on the back of the head.

Fortunately for Santa, the daze turned into a full coma and knocked him senseless for several horrific hours only waking after all the nasty stuff had finished.

Unfortunately for Santa, waking and finding himself sitting on top of a chimney with a bump on the back of his head the size of an egg, did not help his horror for heights.

Fortunately for Santa, his helper stayed beside him and helped him climb down the chimney, over the empty fireplace and into the lounge.

Unfortunately for Santa, he couldn’t see where he was going because he was covered from head to toe in soot and he walked straight into the glowing Christmas tree.

Fortunately for Santa, the tree didn’t fall over.

Unfortunately for Santa, the ceramic hundred year old Angel fell from the top of the tree and landed on his nose breaking it in three places.

Fortunately for Santa, his helper bandaged his head and stemmed the swelling allowing him to continue on with the job of placing presents under the Christmas tree.

Unfortunately for Santa, just as he bent and placed the biggest present beneath the branches, he bumped against the tree again and this time it fell with a dull thud upon him.

Fortunately for Santa, his helper was an amazonian pixie and she managed to drag him by the boots out from under the heavy tree.

Unfortunately for Santa, the white electrical cord of the flashing Christmas tree lights became caught around his neck.

Fortunately for Santa, his amazonian pixie knew CPR and resuscitated him reasonably quickly, enabling him to continue then climb back up the chimney and onto the miraculously still sparkling clean sleigh.

Unfortunately for Santa, he tripped as he climbed in the sleigh and the reindeer thought he had called for them to fly off into the night. They bowed their heads low then took flight.

Fortunately, Santa managed to hook his foot around one edge of the sleigh leg and held on in such a manner that he landed with the reindeer, his sleigh and the amazonian pixie, onto the next roof.

Unfortunately for Santa, he was the first to hit the roof and the sleigh and reindeer and the amazonian pixie basically rode over him before stopping at the roof’s edge.

Fortunately Santa spluttered only a little, then managed to get up whilst holding the sack of presents and climb down the chimney without incident.

Unfortunately Santa was faced with an angry rotweiller.

Fortunately, Santa had the speed of intellect to realise the dog was not happy and so sped back up the chimney deciding to leave the presents on the front doorstep.

Unfortunately in his haste, Santa left his sack of presents behind.

Fortunately the amazonian pixie had seen Santa’s remissiveness and saved the day by collecting his sack herself. The rotweiller now stood at the window, his tail wagging and his tongue lapping at the glass.

Unfortunately all the barking had woken the dog’s family and they were all standing with their noses pressed to the window staring at the vision of a very wet Santa with his head bandaged.

Fortunately, when Santa smiled, the whole family smiled with him. They invited Santa and the amazonian pixie into their home after assuring Santa that the dog’s worst behaviour was licking.

Unfortunately for Santa, the dog licked him non stop and he was unable to make the rest of his deliveries that Christmas Eve.

Fortunately for me, I’m too far away for any of you to strangle me for writing this drivel that you sat and read the whole way through.

(I sure hope the next one is shorter than this.)

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

WSO,

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Rumple

 

[wildsweetone]

LOL

Oh Rumple I am, very very ashamed.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[wildsweetone]

McKenna, that's the first promising thing I've heard for ages.

 

[gauchecritic]

As the snow fell in large drifting flakes outside the store window Santa looked at his Oyster Rolex, willing the hands to 5 O'clock. A pixie dressed in green and gold poked her delightful urchin hair cut head inside the grotto. "Last one, Santa." she grinned.

The broadest smile of the day cut a swathe through Santa's whiskers as he caught a brief glimpse of small pixie breasts inside the highly indecorous tunic. An elfin eye gave a grave wink of promise and delight.

Adjusting his bright red trousers, to more comfortably accomodate his appreciation of the promise of pixie amore Santa plumped himself down qiuckly as his assistant re-entered leading a shy, apparently embarrassed schoolgirl(?) by the carmined fingernail hand.

"This is Jessica," announced the elf, barely concealing a grimace then remembering her character sqealed "she's been a good girl all year long and would like to ask for a very special gift."

Jessica wore a pleated, plaid skirt, a starched white blouse and loose necktie. Knee socks and patented shoes, along with blonde pigtails completed the Schoolgirl uniform.

"Ho Ho Ho." Intoned Santa in his most jovial voice. "Come sit on my lap little girl. And what do you want for Christmas?"

"A bra would be a good start." Muttered the pixie, watching the 'schoolgirl's' backside wiggle into Santa's lap.

"Well Santa, the thing is, I'm a bit worried," whispered Jessica in a throaty voice as she snuggled more securely between his thighs.

"Hhm hm" coughed Santa, "why should you be worried?"

Jessica put an arm around Santa's shoulder, pressing her ample charms into his large fatherly chest and sighed "I'm worried Rudolph may not be up to the job." On the name Rudolph Jessica wiggled her shapely bottom against Santa's sack "You know... Rudolph."

"Ohh... Ho Ho." Said Santa. "Rudolph (cough) with the red... erm... nose."

"That's the chap" breathed Jessica "The one with the shiny red nose."

"Well actually.." Said the pixie from close at hand, very close at hand, staring intently at Jessica, "I look after Santa and Rudolph."

"Oh I don't want to steal your job pixie." murmurred Jessica turning towards the green garbed imp. "In fact," she continued, inches away from the elfin face, "you can give me a few pointers." Then leaning forward she planted her lips against her pixie mouth and darted her tongue between her impish lips.

"Show me how you tend to Rudolph"

Jessica unbuttoned her shirt while Santa's helper gave Rudolph a spit and polish and then removed the green leggings from pixie thighs and the red boots from impish feet.

"Do you have your list Santa?" enquired Jessica.

"Oh yes."

"Have you checked it twice?"

"Mmhm."

"So which of us is naughty and which is nice?"

"Well it seems my Elfin help here is the naughty one and you my dear are extremely nice."

"So I get to choose a gift and your pixie has to be punished. Well... I've always wanted to fuck a pixie"

At this, the sounds of fellatio became more insistant as elfish lips worked harder currying Rudolph to a high sheen.

"And how would a 'little' girl be able to fuck a pixie?" asked Santa

Jessica reached up her skirt and pulling down her panties revealed the best Christmas present ever. "With this."

"Ah yes," said Santa "I seem to remember a slight mixup last year, you're the 'little' girl who was very cheeky and asked for some cock for Christmas."

"That was me, yes. And I wanted to thank you and show you how much I enjoy my present. Santa?"

"Yes?"

"What shall we be having for Christmas dinner?"

"Well, my little helper here seems to be enjoying a piece of prime beef, and it looks like we'll be having spit-roast."

Gauche

 

[whispering_surrender]

Well damn, now I'm hungry......*wanders off in search of prime beef*

Whisper

 

[wildsweetone]

Love it Gauche!!!!


How about this...


***

Tugging on his red trousers, Santa managed to make the edges of the red zip merge like cars travelling along the on ramp joining heavy motorway traffic. Taking a few deep breaths, he expelled the air from his lungs as he tugged on the red jacket then buttoned it up. Shiny and black, the leather belt came next. Then the boots. His hat could stay off until just before he walked out the door.

Thankful that he had no need for a fake white beard, he sat down heavily in his worn comfortable armchair leaning his head on one hand and watched the television news that at present was showing a map of his supposed whereabouts.

Hmm, I should be on my way to New Zealand by now, he thought as his fingers scratched his white bearded chin. I’m sure they wont mind if I just sit here a few moments longer. It’s not quite dark over there yet.

He sat back, allowing his eyelids to close a little, thus making the bright sparkling lights on his own Christmas tree appear a little muted, a little softer, a little fuzzy...

She tiptoed towards him, certain that the noises he made were little snores and that his sleep was deep. Looking down at him a wicked thought flitted across her mind. Quickly, she knelt, then hesitated as he grunted in his sleep. Opening the belt with her deft hands, his sleepy sigh of relief from the restriction was pure pleasure to hear. Unzipping him quickly, she reached inside his red trousers and pulled out his cock. Ducking her head forward, she let her warm tongue circle his cock, before letting her mouth settle over him completely.

When she began suckling him, he groaned. When she moved her head up and down on him, he whimpered. When she sucked him hard and pulled her head away so that her tongue was able to flick over his cock’s tip, he awoke. When she simply sucked him as he pumped his cock in and out of her mouth, he shouted “Ho, Ho, Ho,” then spurted his warm, bitter cum deep into the back of her throat.

She continued licking him, enjoying the clean up, loving the softening of his cock that moments before had threatened to slip down the back of her throat.

Finally Santa gently pushed her away, then stood. His emptied balls waving about momentarily before he tucked them away, zipped himself up and with a brief kiss to her forehead, went off into the night singing,

“Jingle balls, jingle balls, jingle all the way...”

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Dark, dark but for the light spilling onto the falling snow from the party inside, seeping out through the wet and frosted window onto the walk outside, where they stood in the shadows by the side of the building..

“Not here. Not now, for God’s sake,” she said.

He was so close she could feel his warmth. He opened his coat so she could put her arms around him, next to his body.

“Shh, shh . . . Just let me hold you.”

“Davey, they’ll miss me inside. Roger’s probably looking for me right now.”

“The hell with Roger. It’s Christmas eve. You owe me this.”

He kissed her and she let him, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Just this one. For old time’s sake. For all that they’d shared together before.

But he still owned her. The way he kissed, the eagerness and hunger for her took her breath away. His arms came around her and pulled her against the warmth of his body, inside his open coat.

“Oh God you’re warm,” she said, pressing against him. “I’m freezing!”

“You should have worn your coat,” he said, resting his forehead against hers

“No, I just came out for a second, Davey. I told you I can’t stay. They’re going to miss me inside.”

“Give me your hand.”

“No Davey…”

He took her hand and pulled it down and she felt his hardness through his trousers, the heat and weight of him.

“Oh God…”

He pushed her back against the wall, kissing her, leaning his weight against her, as he fumbled with his zipper. He pulled his shorts down, took her hand and put it on his cock.

He was hot, pulsing with life. She looked down and saw steam rising from him in the cold air, as if he were on fire. From inside came the sound of carols, loud, sung drunk. Hark the Herald Angels. The snow fell on them both in the darkness of the night.


---dr.M.

 

[Wills]

Santa's Five Mile High Club

It was a last minute decision. I really was too busy to go. The family had left about a week before, pressure of work preventing me from joining them. I an idle moment at the computer I found I could get out to Reykjavik on Christmas Eve and back on the morning of the 27th, not only that, but the fare was dirt cheap.

I phoned IcelandicAir and booked, she mentioned that there were not many passengers on Christmas Eve, that was when Icelanders started their Christmas celebrations, everyone wanted to be there before the big day.

The departure lounge was eerily quiet; unless they were all hiding somewhere, there were only three passengers, the others a young couple with back-packs.

The stewardess showed me to a first class seat.

“I’m travelling tourist.” I said.

“That’s ok, its Christmas, we are going to look after you.”

May be because I’m wearing a suit, I thought, hadn’t had time to change. The other two passengers were shown to the back of the plane behind the First Class screen. Most of the seats in the centre of the plane were piled high with postal bags.

“Is this it, just us three?”

“Yes.” She said, “On Christmas Eve we have very few passengers, though this exceptional, we carrying loads of Christmas mail, everyone posts so late.

“You are going to wear yourself out running backward and forward between us. Why didn’t you seat them down here?”

“Well the other Stewardess will take care of them. You have me all to yourself. We should have a nice trip, I can give you lot’s of attention.”

We were about fifteen minutes into the flight when she brought me some champagne and canapés.

“Why don’t you join me?” I asked, “We can eat later.”

We sat and drunk and talked and drunk and drunk some more and over the next hour discovered too much about one another, the champagne the culprit. Turned out she was going to be spending Christmas alone, separated from her husband, drinking to contain her sorrow. Like all Icelanders, they rarely stop at one drink and before long had become suggestive and amorous, playing silly flirtation games.

I thought it was going a little too fast and to change the subject told her I felt cold.

“It’s the lack of passengers, the cabin recycles air, people give off a lot of heat so it is cooler than normal. I’ll get us a blanket.”

She came back with a blanket and kicked off her shoes snuggling up to me on the leather seat.

I put a friendly arm around her and looked at the moon rising through the cloud line, turning the tops silver.

“That is beautiful.” I said, “Look at the moon.”

She sprawled herself across me, breasts squeezing against my chest, glanced out of the window and then lay across my lap, blue eyes looking up at me.

“You know, you could do something to make this a Christmas to remember. I’ve never joined the Five Mile High Club, too busy serving people. We could, you know, join the club together.”

She rubbed at my groin, pleased with her discovery, and set about loosening my belt and eased down my zip, cold little fingers probing beneath my pants.

What the fuck, it’s Christmas, I thought, and set to work getting her out of her costume.

As she rode me, crouching over me, her alabaster breasts mashing my face, I could have sworn I saw Santa heading South, for Europe.

 

[wildsweetone]

Great shorts dr.M. and Wills.

 

[Wills]

WSO

Thanks for your kind words. And thank you Perdita who posted under the sheep.

Dr. M - A good yarn, enjoyed.

Let's have a few more from others.

Will's

 

[Guest]

Let's have a few more from others.

Wills, since yesterday I've been trying to think of something for this but I just can't think of anything special. Or else I just can't eroticize xmas.

Perdita

p.s. All of the above are very fine, except WSO's opening post which is too weird for me .

 

[wildsweetone]

p.s. All of the above are very fine, except WSO's opening post which is too weird for me .

Weird is okay. I love you too.





I'm itching to write some more. Come on Perdita, you can think of something I'm sure. Pick something Christmassy and just let the words flow. Something traditionally from your own Christmas time.

 

[Guest]

Come on Perdita, you can think of something I'm sure. Pick something Christmassy and just let the words flow. Something traditionally from your own Christmas time.

That's the thing, Sweet, xmas is family, midnight Mass, the missing baby Jesus, toys (chldren's toys), candy, Rompope (Mexican eggnogg), tamales, huggy-kissy w/o sex. No erotica in those for me.

Perdita

 

[wildsweetone]

Relax, chill out and enjoy...

Well what's wrong with Non-Erotic?

Just write, love. There aren't any boundaries (which includes the fact that the flash does not have to include sex).

Enjoy it in the moment.

 

[Why]

*Cough*

Just One Drop.

The second King opened the frankincense and cried when he found it was just an old box and Joseph decided to eat his beard. Well, it could have been worse. Cara though was a true Angel. She ran to my arms her tinsel halo bobbing, the blue eyes her father had given her glowing with excitement. I knelt down and hugged her, trying in that embrace to make up for there only being one parent, me, here tonight.

She chattered and babbled as I put her coat over her costume. Like all four year olds her mind was near exploding with the excitement of Christmas Eve. I took my daughter’s hand and saying a word here, exchanging a nod there, I inched my way out of the church into the cold night air.

“Hello Linda...” I felt my self stiffen.

“Daddy!” Cara cried and pulled her hand free and ran to the man with whom I had made her. The man that could by the mere memory of his touch, drive my body to the point of ecstasy, the man that had walked away, giving another, what he had given me.

He had left me alone, my bed cold, my heart empty.

“Not speaking?” Carl said over the head our daughter, as he hugged her.

“What’s to say?” I replied and found my hand reaching out for support, my fingers grasping at the stone wall of the church, curling round the remains of a climbing rose. A thorn dug deep “Ouch, damn it!” I swore, sticking my finger in my mouth, leaving a red droplet on the creeper.

“Let me see.” Carl was at my side, taking the wounded hand in his, turning the palm over, rubbing his thumb across my flesh. “You still feel good.” He said softy.

“As good as her?” I snap.

“That’s over; it was over before it began.” He looked at me with his blue eyes, almost pleading with me.

“Yes right…”

“Linda, please, I love you… I was a bloody fool. Can’t we make another try?” His hand goes to my cheek, I feel myself shudder at his touch. Damn it I can’t. Cara is looking from one of us to the other, a frown on her small face.

My wounded hand goes up to his, smearing blood across the back of his hand. The next thing I know his lips are on mine, soft, so full of what was. “Maybe…” I whisper as the kiss breaks.

“Maybe…” He repeats and lifts our daughter, taking my arm as we walk towards home. For some reason I glance back, there on the winter withered stem of the rose by the church door, was one single white bloom, one Christmas rose.

 

[Wills]

Gauche

Don't know how I missed yours. That Santa's getting too old, giving little girls unsuitable presents. Me, I could do with a pixie right now.

Here's another, yes, I'm bored and can't face more bloody CSS programming lessons.

The soldier, down on the third tier of the Christmas tree branches, in his bright red uniform with the gold sash across his chest and his smart black trousers with two red stripes down sides, had been looking up all day at the fairy at the utmost top of the tree. She looked so beautiful, little pink face, rouged cheeks, and silky golden hair with a sparkling hair band and dressed in a pink gauze tutu that did nothing to hide her shapely legs and her tiny bottom enclosed in pink silk panties. She stood there all day and all night, wand held high watching over the room.

He wondered what she was thinking. She was too far away for him to hear her thoughts. Still not long now, tonight we will have our freedom. Just for one hour, after Santa brings the presents, that is when the decorations come to life, a reward for being shut away in a dark and dusty box for fifty weeks each year. Of course, no one knows that the decorations have this hour of freedom though you may have noticed on Christmas morning how every thing seems just slightly out of place. Most people don’t spot a thing in their rush to open presents.

The soldier had long known what he was going to do with his hour of freedom, he had been plotting and planning this trip since last year, when the new fairy first made her appearance. For him it was love at first sight and he thought she felt the same, though last year, because she was a virgin fairy, new to being exposed in public, he felt it was not right to approach her. He was really hoping to have been placed higher up the tree, not so far to climb, but he had had sufficient time to work out his route and knew the path he would take with his eyes closed.

Around him, he could hear other decorations thinking aloud, the Snowman and the Robin and a host of chattering Elves. About 1.00am, he heard a rustle and Santa appeared at the fireplace. He opened his sack and placed appropriate presents for all the family. He ate his mince pies and swallowed his brandy whilst admiring the decoration of the room. Naturally, all this happened in the blink of an eye otherwise he would never have gotten around all the families. As he turned to leave, he threw a handful of magic dust in the direction of the Christmas tree and the ornaments woke from their yearlong slumber.

The soldier stretched himself, pleased to discover that not all of the woody ness had gone from every part of his body and set a course for the summit. He climbed like a man possessed, stopping only occasionally to monitor his path nearing his target minute by minute. There was not time for niceties, they all knew that, one hour each year doesn’t give your enough time for small talk, so he caressed her mind with loving intention as the distance diminished between them until they were finally ripping at each others clothes with their minds long before he was in touching distance.

As they lay together rocking in the upper most fork of the tree they became for a brief moment as one, fused sap to sap in their ecstasy, hoping beyond hope that they might find them selves lying together in the box, in the attic.

All too soon it was over, ornaments back in their rightful spots, more or less. No one would be any the wiser.

The little boy was under the tree finding presents.

“Mum, what’s this?” he passed what he had found to his Mother.

“Oh, how strange, I wonder how that’s happened?” she said looking up to the top of the tree, “Look at this Dad, the Fairy has lost her panties.”

 

[Guest]

Aaarrgghhh! Wills, I can't believe this. I was finally all set to do an erotic take on the tin soldier and the ballerina doll.

Very nice, though, love the ending,

Perdita

 

[Wills]

I'm sorry Perdita,

Do it anyway

Can't have too many tin soldier and ballerina romances.

Will's

 

[Guest]

Well, there's always the tin caballero and the muertita puta.

Perdita

 

[gauchecritic]

Hot and sultry, nighttime. An overcast retaining the heat of the day blots out the stars although a gibous moon cuts the clouds from time to time.

"You'll just have to get above the cloud deck." Shouted the elf through the mounting pressure as Santa drove his sled to the limit to get those last few presents delivered before daybreak.

"Look you stupid little twat" laughed the red garbed figure "If I get above the fucking clouds, how the fuck do you expect me to see the bastard ground?"

Shouting louder still, as the brightly decked sleigh romped through the sky the elf called "Use your x-ray vision."

"X-ray vision? Fucking X-ray vision? Who the fuck d'you think I am? Fucking super-bastard-man?"

The elf, who had become accustomed to Santa getting edgy as the holiday drew close and his language more colourful shouted in his ear "I thought Rudolph could light the way or something."

"Rudolph? Rudolph the fucking red bastard nosed cunting reindeer? He is fucking shite. The only reason that twat is on the team at all is because of the fucking song. He couldn't find his fucking antlers with four fucking hooves."

The sled slid through the ever more turbulent air seeking their last destination for this sub-continent. At least we only have a few hundred thousand to deliver throughout asia thought the elf Then it's the hard part, Europe then the US. Only a billion and a half on the nice list this year. Doddle

"A sign." shouted Santa in his booming jovial voice "keep your eyes open for a fucking road sign." Sweat poured from that great broad brow as the warmth of the night penetrated deep into the vermillion suit. "If we don't find the fucker soon I'm going to have to use the fucking warp drive to get to Hong Kong"

"The engines cannae stand it Cap'n" shouted the elf.

"Don't fucking start with the bastard Star Trek. Not to-fucking-night" chortled Santa

"Well where am I looking for?" enquired the elf through gritted teeth

"Wogga fucking Wogga." Laughed Santa

"Wogga?" shouted the elf

"No" Roared Santa uproariously "Not fucking Wogga. Wogga fucking Wogga. And while I'm on, why the fucking hell do they have Christmas in the middle of fucking summer down here? I'm sweating like a cunt. I've lost 3 stone in the last 4 hours. How the fuck am I expected to be fucking jovial if I weigh 10 twatting stone? Eh? Fucking answer me that. Fucking elfs."

"Elves."

"What?" called Santa with mirth.

"It's elves, not elfs."

"Look. I'm fucking Scandinavian. Fucking German at best. Don't fucking pick me up on fucking English pronunciation you fucking little twat."

With a dim red light leading the way the brightly lit sleigh forged on into the waiting dawn, trailing profanity and sweat in copious amounts.

Gauche

 

[Guest]

Awright, Gauche, for the third time in one day - brilliant. Larfs aloud and plenty.

Perdita

 

[wildsweetone]

Gauche, it's gonna be hard looking into Santa's eyes tomorrow when he comes to attend the two parties at work.

My sides ache big time! You're awesome!

 

[McKenna]

Merry Christmas Josephine

Fuck the holidays. Fuck ‘em all. What did they amount to, anyway? More work for the women, that’s what. Sure it’s all great fun when friends and family get together, but who’s the one left cooking and cleaning at midnight Christmas Eve so the holiday can run smoothly and efficiently?

Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is another pair of hands.

“Is that true Josephine?”

Josie dropped the pan of cookies she’d just removed from the oven. “Who the hell are you and how did you get into my house?”

“Don’t you recognize me Josephine, I’m Santa Claus.”

“Like hell you are mister, now get the hell out of my house before I-“

“Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is another pair of hands.”

Josephine was stunned. She hadn’t uttered those words aloud, she’d barely let them form into coherent thought. Yet here this man proclaiming to be St. Nick had just repeated them to her word for word.

“Who are you?” she asked, even as the ruined cookies cooled around her heels.

“I’m Santa Claus. And you, Josephine Alexandra de Hart, have been a very good girl this year.”

“I’m hardly a girl.”

“Come here Josephine.”

She didn’t know why she obeyed. It all seemed surreal. For a moment she wondered if she’d imbibed too much from the spiked eggnog and was having inebriated hallucinations.

“You’re quite sober and conscious Josephine,” Santa said, as she stood before him. “Now tell me, where would you like this extra pair of hands?” As he asked this he looked at her from mysterious, deep blue eyes. She tilted her head to the side in wonderment of eyes that seemed neither old nor young as they peered out from a face that appeared both smooth and lined. “Here?” Santa asked, as he placed his hands on her shoulders and began to massage.

Josephine felt his touch soothe the stiffness from her muscles like magic. “Yes,” she answered simply, and closed her eyes.

“And what about here?” His hands moved lower, tracing over upper arms and down her sides. “And here?” Now they traveled down her hips, having slipped through the opening in her robe. “This is where you want those hands, isn’t it Josephine?” And even as he said it she could feel his hand cup the mound of her sex.

What followed were a few stolen moments of ecstasy. For once, Josephine was on the receiving end of some Christmas attention. Attention well deserved, Santa judged by her soft cry of release and the flood of dampness on his fingers. She watched through half-closed eyes as he removed his hand to lick his fingers clean. “Merry Christmas Josephine.”

He turned to go, but she stopped him with a few, quietly uttered words: “But what about your milk and cookies?”

He smiled over his shoulder as he licked the last remaining moisture from his fingers. “I believe I’ve had a much better treat this Christmas Eve, Josephine.” And with a touch to the side of his nose he was gone. She stood in her kitchen and watched the spot where he last stood until the coolness of the night air touched the skin left bare by her parted bathrobe. She smiled at the remaining tingles of release still floating through her body and whispered quietly, “Merry Christmas to you too, Santa, and thank you.”