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Thursday, December 26, 2013

A Very Naughty Christmas

A Very Naughty Christmas

Smash!
The sound of glass breaking woke Nick from his slumber. His eyes flew open as he jackknifed himself on his king size bed. Other than his labored breathing, there was no other sound in the vast room. The seconds ticked by as if they were hours, while he listened for a follow up sound. Just as Nick was convinced there was no need for alarm, he heard the tiny bells that hang from the Christmas tree, ring. Nick sprung from his bed and quietly walked to the closet door of the master suite in his winter cabin. With his hand on the doorjamb he slowly opened the heavy closet door and pulled out his 34" Louisville Slugger that he keeps tucked safely in the corner.
As Nick descended down the polished timber staircase to the tiny foyer, he yelled, "Who's down there?"
No noises could be heard from the bottom of step. Nick swung his bat in to the darkness, in the direction of the front door; to make sure it was clear as he approached. The only illumination was the soft glow of the Christmas tree in the living room, and the moonlight filtering in through the windows.
Nick quickly glanced at the alarm panel near the door and saw it was still armed. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he continued to check the windows and doors of his Christmas hideaway, only to find the house was in fact, still secure.
Nick chuckled at himself for being such a fool. When he made one final sweep through the living room he found a red glass ball shattered on the ground.
“Perhaps it came lose from a branch and made the bells jingle before smashing to pieces on the rustic cherry wood floor,” he thought to himself. He shook his head at the scene of him walking through the cabin looking for an intruder, only to find he was still the only living soul for miles.
Nick stretched, and then placed the bat near the stone fireplace. Just as he exited the room he heard a tiny, girlish sneeze coming from behind the dark brown, leather sofa. He thought maybe scaring the unknown person would be a better tactic than the bat; so without thinking, he leapt over the top of the sofa and landed next to the dark figure behind it. The squeak and squeal of the woman, whom he startled, was enough to make him leap to his feet with her upper arms firmly held in his grasp.
The willowy, yet buxom blond was trembling in his hands. Nicks eyes were immediately drawn to her ample cleavage where her soot covered, fur trimmed, red coat, was barely holding her in. He slid his eyes to her matching skirt, which was just barely covering her lady bits. When he held her at arms length he noticed her fishnet hold um ups were peaking out of the top of her shiny, black leather, knee length boots. Nick dropped his arms and took a step back when he watched her slip her bottom lip between her teeth.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my cabin?" He firmly asked.
"I am sorry if I startled you. My name is, Christmas Carol, but most people know me as Mrs. Claus," she said as she brushed the dust from her cloths. "But you can just call me, Carol."
Nick looked at her as if she was crazy. "How did you get in here? Who are you really?"
Carol took a step toward Nick and ran her dark red fingernail down his naked chest. "I already told you who I am. And, I came through the chimney." When she finished her statement she halted her finger at the waistband of Nicks flannel pajama bottoms as she watched him from the top of her long black lashes.
"And you expect me to believe that you are, Mrs. Claus, and you have come here to...what? Why did you come here?" Nick folded his arms over this bare chest and leaned back so her hand fell from his body. 
He wanted to hear this fabricated story from this beautiful stranger standing in his living room, more than anything.
"I came here for you, silly." She giggled.
"Why? Because I have been such a good boy this year, Mrs. Claus, herself has come to pay me a visit? I'm not buying it. Now, tell me why you are here or I am calling the cops." He demanded.
Carol laughed as she took off her red wool hat and shook the black soot off of it before tossing it on the coffee table.
"Pftt...good boy? Nicholas, I don't visit the good boys. Every year, after my husband leaves for the night, I sneak into his study and get a good look at the bad boy list. You were in the top five, so I figured I would see what all the fuss was about." Carol stepped closer and unfolded Nick’s arms from his chest. He wasn't ready to believe her, but goddamn if he wasn't getting hard from the sight of her.
"Still don't believe me?" She asked as her warm lips kissed his collarbone.
"Nope."
"Hummmmm. I will have to convince you then. Perhaps some Christmas magic is in order." Carol took a step back and snapped her fingers over her head. In the blink of an eye her skirt and jacket were gone and the fireplace sparked to life from out of nowhere. Nick's mouth fell open at what he just witnessed and Carol snickered at his amazement. "See. Told ya'."
"What the…how did you...where did," Nick stuttered while darting his eyes around the room.
Nick was trying to rationalize what he just witnessed, but there was no explanation that made sense. The only thing he could come up with is: this is a dream. A very naughty Christmas dream. With that sinking in, he figured he would just go with it and enjoy the full experience while it was still presenting itself.
"Nick, just enjoy it. I promise, I won't bite...unless you want me to." Carol whispered in his ear. Nick could feel his shaft hardening to a stiff rod as her hands slid over his taught abs and traveled into the back of his flannel PJ's.
In one swoop, Carol was kneeling in front of Nick, taking his pants down with her. She settled back on her knees and took him into her warm, soft hands. Nick watched her as she slid her red lips over the tip of his cock and watched her jaw almost unhinge as he saw himself disappear down her narrow throat. He was convinced, now more than ever, that this woman was a figment of his imagination. No woman, before her, had ever been able to take all ten inches at once. His wife wasn't even able to accommodate half that without gagging.
Nick fisted Carols long blond locks in his fingers and guided her head back and forth while his hips fucked her mouth. Carol watched his lust filled expression from above her as she allowed him to set the pace. Before he blew in her mouth Carol placed her hands on his muscular thighs and pushed herself free. Nick stumbled back. Seeing as his pants were still around his ankles, and caught his fall on the sofa behind him.
"Sit." Carol demanded.
Nick willingly listened as the blond removed her matching red lace bra and panties, and threw them in his direction. Nick watched with eager anticipation as he stroked himself. The erotic gesture of the sexy man before her touching himself, while she watched like a voyeur, made her needy for him.
"My turn," Nick grinned while Carol inched toward him, never taking her eye off the prize.
"Nuh, uh. This is your Christmas gift." Carol insisted, as she straddled Nick and slowly slid him into her silky opening.
Nick groaned toward the ceiling as she took ever inch he offered. With his head resting on the back of the couch and his hands gripping Carol’s hips, he savored the feeling of her clamping down like a vice around him. Carol slowly lifted herself up on her knees, and again sunk down until she felt his sac on her ass. Nick lazily opened his eyes and watched this amazing woman repeat this process over and over again while she massaged her own breasts and pinched her nipples.
Never before had he felt such bliss. Not with his wife, or his many secretaries, or the twins high school Math teacher at a parent teacher conference he was forced to go solo to (needless to say, the boys passed with flying colors that year). No, never. Never had a woman fit him so perfectly. Not until, Mrs. Christmas Carol Claus, did he feel the true meaning of euphoria...
...and, well, Christmas.
With each passing pump, he felt himself growing harder and closer to spilling himself inside her. But he wasn't a bottom. He preferred to watch as a woman writhed in pleasure under him. In one motion, Carol was on the floor beneath him in front of the stone fireplace. The warmth of their skin and the warmth of the fire were causing their bodies to glisten as the tree lights twinkled around them.
Nick pushed Carols boot clad legs around his upper arms and spread them wide as he plowed into her relentlessly. She moaned and screamed his name with each menacing thrust.
“You like that. Tell me how much you like it,” Nick asked her over and over again. Her only response was to cry out in pleasure as she came over and over again. Nick could feel his balls tighten and in one final lunge he poured himself into her.
Physically spent, Nick fell to Carol’s side while lying on the hard floor panting in front of the stone hearth. Nick heard the front door open, then close.
"Nick!" He heard his wife yell.
         His eyes flew open to find that he was back in his warm bed. Alone. He threw off the blanket and darted around the room looking for Carol, but she was gone; and his pants were still on.
He scratched his head, trying to determine if last night was real or not. He could swear he could still smell her on him, but he figured it had to be a dream. No woman is that perfect, for sure.
"Nick! Where are you?" His wife, Jane yelled again.
With a shake of his head he replied. "Up here, honey. Be right down."
Nick threw on his plush robe and slippers and bounced down the stairs; on top of the world and feeling as satisfied as ever, after his dream.
"There you are. Merry Christmas, handsome." Jane kissed Nick and he pulled her into him. After a dream like that, he could use some action. She was no Carol, but she will suffice.
"Ummm. I guess someone slept well." Jane drawled as her cold hands slid under his robe.
"You bet. Where are the boys?"
"Helping my mother make breakfast. Get ready. They are chomping at the bit to open their presents."
"Ok. Let me shower, then we can go."
"Ok. Be quic- what's that?" Jane asked, pointing behind Nick.
On the coffee table there was a shiny red box with a big white bow, that was meticulously tied on top. Nick looked at the box in confusion. He had gotten back late last night from his business meeting, but he didn't remember seeing this box on the table.
"Is that for me?" Jane asked, excitement spilling out of her.
Nick didn't know what to say. He had never seen the box, nor did he know what was in it. But then again, his new secretary did his shopping. Perhaps she had it delivered before he got home.
"Uh..yeah. Merry Christmas, baby." Nick tripped over his words as his wife was already pulling at the ribbon.
Nick sat in the sofa and visions of his dream came flooding back. It felt so real to him. He could feel her soft skin and taste her sweet lips on his.
As his wife lifted the lid she pulled out a red wool hat with black soot speckling it and eyed it cautiously. His eyes widened and his heart pounded out of his chest. Jane placed it on the table next to her and pulled out a long white envelope. From where he was sitting he could see the tag in the box said:
To, Jane. 

From, Santa.
Nick pulled the box off her lap but she already had the envelope firmly in her grasp.
"Nick, why would you give me a dirty hat?" Jane questioned.
Nick nervously laughed, "It's a joke. Hahaha...get it."
"No. Honestly. Whatever is in this envelop better be the better part of this little joke of yours."
“You’re right. It was a stupid joke. Give it here.” Nick lunged for the envelope but Jane stood and spun so she was blocking him from the contents. Before he could reach for it over her shoulder, Jane opened the envelope and gasped at the contents before dropping them.
Nick watched as the contents fell to the floor. They both stood in amazement as they hovered over pictures. They both dropped to their knees when the photos came into focus. The first few were of Nick pounding Carol on the couch and in front of the fireplace. The next batch was of Jane; bent over a red sleigh with what appears to be a much younger and buffer version of the Santa on the Christmas commercials.  New Santa was fucking her from behind on the roof of her parent’s house, while the reindeer watched.

"This never happened!" They both said at the same time before standing and walking off in opposite directions.