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(Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you enjoy my hastily thought up, hastily written, holiday-themed smut!)
Four weeks of feigning joy is hard for a disillusioned man rapidly approaching his forties.
Thankfully the fake beard strapped to my face meant I didn’t have to smile too much, but I still had to pretend to be happy for the apparently endless amount of children that came into the small grotto demanding gifts they didn’t really need, or their parents couldn’t afford.
It wasn’t a nice place – a ramshackle hut built cheap, with forest green felt stapled to the flimsy wooden walls and lazily painted beams made to look like candy canes. It was cheap, tacky and cold, even with my fat suit on, yet the kids that came in saw none of that. All they saw was a lush home away from Lapland, with happy elves and, of course, Santa Claus.
Or at least someone pretending to be Santa Claus.
It hadn’t been my intention to end up in a role like this. Ever. But redundancy a few months before Christmas, three kids, a wife and a mortgage – money needed to come from somewhere. I’d have waited personally – our savings would be enough, I told Karen. But she had grown tired of me loitering around the house and knew the person who owned the grotto, so I was bundled out of the house on December 1st to start my penance as Santa.
As a job it was soul-destroying. Minimal pay, the exhausting attitude of demanding children and parents alike, the early starts and late finishes – by the time I’d got through the horrendous traffic in the city I didn’t even get chance to see my own children, making me grumpy around Karen and leaving neither of us with much holiday cheer.
It wasn’t all bad – the people I work with are all friendly enough, the few of working forming a camaraderie that comes with these kinds of roles. It was all very gallows humour, at least when the door was closed for the night and the small contingent had chance to be themselves.
One such coworker I find myself smiling at a lot is Frankie. Frankie’s a first year student at the university in the city, with wild dyed blue hair and black highlights, a subtle nose-ring and the most wonderfully bored expression as she greets the children and parents who entered the grotto.
We spoke briefly at the end of shifts, her fingers twirling through her pretty hair and her vibrant red lips parting rapidly as she chews on pink bubblegum. It was hard not to take in her figure, even though she wore an incredibly unflattering elf outfit. Even wearing it, it was easy to tell she had great tits – something I wasn’t shy of alluding to in our occasional conversations.
I wouldn’t have dared speak to anyone else like I did with her, but the blue-haired vixen seemed to adore the dirty talk we shared. At first I told myself it was all relatively innocent, that there was something quite fun about Santa telling an elf how great her tits looked in her uniform, or hearing an elf tell him how excited she was about Santa emptying his sack in her bedroom this Christmas.
The playfulness seemed to end a few days before Christmas, and it became something with a little more substance. The shift had ended and I was in the process of getting out of the Santa outfit when a relatively innocent conversation around what we wanted for Christmas had broken out.
“You know what I want.” I told her with a confident smile as she was about to leave the grotto, leather jacket in her hand.
“Something to make those greys disappear?” she responded playfully.
“Too late for that,” I laugh. “Plus it makes me look all refined.”
“If you say so.”
“No,” I say quickly to her back as she makes to leave. “All I want to see is what you’ve got hiding under that top you’re wearing.”
Frankie stops and I wonder whether I’ve gone too far as she doesn’t reply immediately. An apology is on the tip of my tongue when she turns around, amused smile on her lips and her hands at the bottom of her shirt.
It happens so quickly. Her hands lifting up the top with the cheap elf print on it, revealing the black bra that held her breasts and the exquisite amount of cleavage she had going for her. “Holy fuck,” I mutter, just as she pulls her bra up and her tits spill free.
I say spill – she’s 19 years old and there’s no spilling. They are perfectly pert, with small disks of pink for nipples that are hard in the chill of the grotto. I can only open my mouth wordlessly, making Frankie laugh as she pulls bra and shirt back down, the spell broken.
“Don’t expect anything else,” she says with a wink, then leaves me alone in the cabin as my brain contemplates whether I’d really just seen her tits, and whether they really did look that canlı bahis good.
That night, with Karen asleep beside me, I think about what Frankie had shown me and, as I cum, concur that they really were that good.
The next few days consist of more time with her, and suddenly the job doesn’t feel like a chore. Frankie seems emboldened by what she had shown me, making a concerted effort to provoke a reaction from me. Sometimes it was simply bending down in front of me when a parent had dropped something in front of my chair, and other times it was graphic mimicry of hardcore sex acts out of the view of the people visiting Santa.
It’s hard to keep a straight face when a very hot elf is pretending to perform fellatio with a candy cane.
Even though I’ve hated the job for the most part, I can’t help but feel a certain sadness that it’s over. It’s been mostly humiliating, but the people I work with, especially Frankie for obvious reasons, had made it bearable. When the last family leave the grotto on Christmas eve, the door closes and my role as Santa ends, and I return to being primarily a father and husband. A text message from Karen tells me to rush home so we can all sit together and watch a film.
It should be something I relish the idea of, but I just can’t seem to find the excitement after the last month.
I’m sitting on the bench in the small backroom of the grotto, wearing a black vest and my vibrant red trousers when Frankie walks in. She’s still wearing her elf costume, and she gives me a kind smile.
“Ready for home?” she asks, moving to where her coat is hanging up.
“Guess so” I respond, and give her a tight smile.
Frankie hesitates next to her leather jacket and then looks at me with her light-blue eyes. “It’s been fun Drew. You ain’t so bad for someone your age. I’d invite you out tonight with my mates but I wouldn’t want to keep you from your cocoa.”
I laugh and stand up, rolling my shoulders and turning to face her. “Please – I could drink you under the table” I retort with a confident grin.
She grins at me and then takes a step forward, a confident little swagger in the way she makes her way towards me.
“There’s only one thing I’d want to be doing under a table with you, and it ain’t drinking.”
I’m experienced enough to know the suggestive words she says to me, but that doesn’t mean I know how to react to them. Before I can even find the words, she’s narrowed the gap between us and her hand is resting on my chest.
“You don’t have to say anything. Don’t have to do anything you don’t want. But… we’re all alone here. And I reckon I could make your Christmas.”
I swallow hard and lick my lips as I try to think of what to say. “Frankie, I’m marr-“
“Yes, I know you are. But you ain’t going to see me again. And I’m right here.”
She stops talking and leans up on her toes, mouth brushing my ear and her body pressed against mine, and whispers.
“And I’m really fucking horny.”
Without thinking my hands are on her slim hips and I’ve pushed her against the wall of the backroom, my mouth dropping to hers as she leans up to meet my lips. The kiss is passionate, one borne from weeks of teasing and tormenting the other.
When the kiss breaks after seconds, or minutes, or hours, we’re both breathless and our hands are all over one another. I start to lift her top up, feeling the softness and heat of her stomach, only for her to bat my hands away.
“Not in here” she purrs, teeth nipping at my lower lip and her eyes filled with lust.
“Then where?” I ask, confused.
“Where Santa should fuck his naughty little elf.” she replies, then turns and heads to the door and towards the grotto where I’ve greeted hundreds and hundreds of children for the last month. The grotto where I’m going to cheat on my wife.
The grotto where I’m going to fuck the teasing little minx who’s wriggling her bare little ass at me from the top of her pulled down yoga pants.
It’s too much for me. The teasing and the way things are at home fuels my desire so it rages within me like it hasn’t in decades. In four long strides I’m at the door, pinning Frankie against it and pressing myself against her back, hand moving between her now exposed thighs.
“So you want me to fuck you, do you?” I growl into her ear, and she makes a sound that’s somewhere between a whimper and a moan as my fingers trace between her wet lips.
“Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah I want to be fucked by Santa right now.”
My free hand grips her blue hair and we kiss fiercely, tongues pressing against one another as my finger curls into her pussy and she moans against my lips. Her hips push back against me and I push back, my bahis siteleri cock already rock solid in my baggy red pants.
I remove my hand and we stumble from the backroom and into the grotto. The twinkling of Christmas lights greet us as Frankie grips on one of the candy cane coloured poles in the middle of the depressing cabin, although it doesn’t feel depressing anymore.
I don’t ask for permission as I pull my trousers down to my knees and line my cock up with her pussy. I try to tease her, to rub my bulbous head up and down her slick lips, but Frankie reaches back and guides me into her tight sex.
“Stop teasing me and fuck me, dammit!” she cries.
She’s so tight, I think as my hands grip the pale flesh of her hips and I start to thrust into her. It’s the only thinking I am doing, as I let out the frustration of the last few months on the sexy little dame who’s got my attention so fully.
Apparently it’s reciprocated from the guttural moans she’s making, Frankie keen to show me that she’s as shy now as she was when she showed me her pert tits the other day. I pull a hand back and give her ass a quick spank, leaving a red mark and making her cry out a little louder.
“That’s it, fuck your little elf!” she moans loudly, and I can’t help but wonder what it must look like to see a blue-haired elf, still mostly dressed in her attire, being fucked hard from behind by a man partially dressed as Santa.
We continue fucking hard like that, moaning together between the sounds of the shitty candy cane creaking and the sound of my hand leaving another mark on her behind. I feel myself getting close, and I’m about to ask her where she wants me to cum, when she pulls away from me and my soaking wet cock leaves her body.
Frankie turns around quickly and we share a quick kiss, her hand between our bodies sliding to my cock so she can work it up and down and tease around the head with the expertise of a woman who knows what she is doing.
“Go sit in the chair,” she tells me with another nip of my lips, and I turn to follow her gaze and see the chair she’s nodding towards. The chair that’s been my place of business for the last month. I turn back to her with a grin.
“God you have got it bad, haven’t you?”
Frankie smacks my arm as she gets out of her leggings. “Just go and fucking sit down, alright?”
I do as she says and take my place in the wide, felt throne with my cock standing to attention and my eyes still firmly on Frankie as she approaches me wearing nothing at all from the waist down.. Despite knowing it’s cheesy, I can’t help saying the first thing that pops into my head.
“And what do you want for Christmas little girl?” I ask her in my deepest Santa voice, and the answer I get back is for Frankie to spread my legs and for her to kneel down on the dais the chair sits on. Her hand grips the base of my manhood, and she tosses her blue hair from her face to look up at me.
“I,” she purrs. “Really want to suck Santa’s cock.”
And without further pause she does just that.
My naughty little elf is keen and clearly experienced. Her tongue slides around my sensitive head first before her pretty, full red lips wrap around my cock and she starts to suck me off with an intensity I’ve not experienced since I was her age. She slurps noisily around my shaft, her blue eyes rarely straying from mine.
My own eyes eventually close though as I try to recall receiving this kind of attention and find I can’t do so. I reach down and run my hands through her soft hair and keep her head in place.
She takes me deeper and my eyes open as I suddenly feel the urge to cum. “Frankie! Fuck I’m close,” I breathe, but all she does is double down, hand and mouth moving up and down my shaft as I realise this is what she wants. I grip her blue hair and feel my muscles tense up, the strange sensation of having another suck my cock almost overpowering.
When I do cum I groan out her name to the empty cabin and look up to the ceiling of the cabin, where Christmas light blink. Or it feels like they’re softly blinking anyway. I glance down and watch Frankie swallow the ropes of hot seed I’m pumping into her mouth and how she slowly, meticulously, drags her lips up and down my shaft.
Frankie pulls away and then licks around the head of my twitching cock, every bit as dirty as I’d imagined her being the last few nights when I’d masturbated to her. I never thought I’d actually get chance to act out my fantasies.
She slowly stands up and sits on my lap, kissing me slowly as I taste myself on her lips. My arms wrap around her and I wonder how this has all happened and at what point I should feel bad about what I’ve done. I mean, Karen bahis şirketleri wanted me to get this job, right? So it’s kinda her fault?
Probably didn’t want me to fuck the university student I worked with though.
Our slow kiss finally ends and Frankie pulls away with a content smile on her face, which disappears as she pulls her tight-fitting elf shirt over her head and tosses it to where her forest green yoga pants are. I can’t help but gasp at seeing her pale body again, this time so close I can touch it.
My hands go to her midriff and the smile she wears changes to something naughtier, something more akin to the woman I’ve grown to know.
“Gonna make me cum?” she says, reaching behind me and pulling on a green elf hat that had been hanging off the back of the large chair.
“Depends,” I say. “Have you been a good girl this year?”
“Oh I think so Santa,” she purrs, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. My little elf doesn’t remove it though – instead leaving it to me to pull the straps from her snow white shoulders and reveal her pert, C cup breasts.
I instantly cup them, pushing them together and hearing her shudder as my rough hands drag across her pink nipples, her back arching and pushing against my palms.
“Please Santa,” she groans, fluttering her lashes at me and biting her lower lip. “Please let me fuck you.”
I nod wordlessly, still shocked that any of this is happening. The whole thing feels surreal, perhaps exaggerated by the Christmas decorations and fake snow that litters the ground of the grotto. Then she lowers herself onto my still-hard cock, and the two of us groan out as we start to fuck again.
Wrapping her slender arms around my shoulders, Frankie starts off slowly. Our foreheads press together and my hands go to her hips as she moves herself languidly on my cock, sliding it easily up and down the shaft while shallow breaths escape her parted lips. When she presses down just a little more than she has done prior, a groan escapes them and her breasts push up near my face.
Immediately I wrap my mouth around one erect nipple and immediately she reacts, groaning out loudly and wrapping an arm around my head to keep me pressed against her chest. Frankie starts to ride me faster and I respond by flicking my tongue against her nipple and then biting lightly down on it while a hand grips her firm ass.
The sound she makes is somewhere between a yelp and cry. She grips my hair and yanks me back from her body, and I open my eyes to see her fucking me properly. One hand is gripped tight to the back of the chair, the other has long, Christmas themed nails digging into my chest.
Frankie makes noises like I’ve never heard before and at that moment I’m only a voyeur, with the naked woman in an elf hat using my body as her own personal sex toy. All her body movement seems to direct downwards onto her hips, and it’s not something I have any issue with as I watch her tits bounce, and her lips part for the moans that seem to come from the depths of her body.
I do help somewhat though, especially when she starts to bounce on my cock. Gripping her hips in a death grip, we time it so that I pull her down onto my cock with every grind down onto my manhood. It works for her, because her moans become closer to screams.
“Like that! Like that!” she cries, the sound echoing against the wooden walls. I grunt in response, focusing my attention on just making sure that she gets the release she craves. That she deserves.
When it hits it’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever witnessed. Her back arches and she seems to rise up from me like a siren from the sea. Her pussy tightens around my shaft and, almost unbidden, the sensation draws a second orgasm from me. I should be horrified, but I clutch her to me and feel my cum pulse into her sex as we enjoy the climax together, my hips pushing upwards instinctively.
We hold each other for a time, a two-bit Santa holding a naked elf, and don’t say a word. Her head beside me, I hear her moisten her lips and then hear the smile in her voice when she speaks.
“Seems Santa is the naughty one for cumming in his naughty little elf.” she says, then leans back so I can see that smile for myself.
“Yeah, sorry,” I say, slightly abashed. “Can help you get the pill if you need to?”
“I’m safe, don’t worry.” Frankie replies, then kisses me lightly while cradling my face. “You’re pretty good for an old man.”
I chuckle softly and let my hands run up and down her spine, enjoying her warmth pressed against me and just how good all this feels. “That’s just experience. Perhaps you’ve been missing out by fucking lads your own age?”
She sighs and wriggles on my lap. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe we should do it again sometime?”
“Yeah,” I say eventually. “Yeah I reckon I’d like that.”
“Good. Because I got just what I wanted for Christmas, and I wouldn’t mind having a happy new year too.”
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