Hard Candy Christmas

Hard Candy Christmas Hard Candy Christmas

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

The reader finds herself visited by a special someone on Christmas Eve.

Summary

The reader finds herself visited by a special someone on Christmas Eve.

Content

Submitted: September 11, 2016

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Content

Submitted: September 11, 2016

A A A

A A A


Hard Candy Christmas



 

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house there was a pervasive silence. Not even a mouse could be heard scurrying across the floorboards; that is, if you strove to hear such things.

I would know. I was trying. I was trying to hear anything. Anything at all. But the house was under the spell of a heavy hush and it was driving me crazy. So I slipped from the warm comfort of my bed and made my way through the house downstairs to the living room. My plan was to turn on the T.V. for some ambient background Christmas music and attempt to find somnolence for myself.

I spied the glass of milk and cookies that I left out for "Santa." Whatever. I'm still a child at heart. And it doesn't feel right to not follow this tradition, even if I was alone for Christmas. I gave in and grabbed the cookies. I reached out and began munching on a shortbread cookie in the shape of a house with red sprinkles glittering the face. I perused the music section of my cable until I found jazz Christmas music.

Perfect. The relaxing and comforting saxophone music caused me to sway as I listened; it picked my spirits up and took them by the hand to dance, so to speak. My eyes crinkled from the minute joy and I glanced forlorn at the Christmas tree. It looks like Santa won't be coming by tonight.

I snuggle up on the couch with a blanket and start to doze when suddenly I hear a tapping. It's faint but it piques my curiosity. It doesn't take long for a disturbance to come from the chimney. I sit in mortified disbelief as I watch a full grown man descend and climb out of the dark chute. I must be dreaming. Or, hallucinating. The tall and burly man that straightens and dusts soot off of his red and white suit is Santa.

"Oh, Merry Christmas," his jovial tone is sincere. His eyes are crinkled with mirth behind his spectacles. I can't bring myself to say anything.

"I see you started on the cookies without me," he gestures to the plate in a playful manner. I look down and back up. I had eaten half the cookies I had left out.

"... Do you want one?" I ask lamely.

"I'd be glad to nab a taste of your cookies," he says and winks at me.  "Shouldn't you be on top of the tree, Angel?" He asks me and I drop the cookies. My jaw is slack in disbelief. He's leaning closer and I can distinctly smell egg nog.

"Do you want to know why I'm so jolly?" He asks seriously. I'm too dumbfounded to nod yes.

"...It's because I know where all the naughty girls live," he chuckles and slaps his knee. He must think he's funny.

"Why does Santa come down the chimney?" I ask him. I can play this game.

   "Oh ho ho, why?" He asks.

  "Because Mrs. Claus said you'd never get to go in the back door," I answer and this turns him into a giggling mess.

"I had forgotten that one," he says mirthfully. "Oh, I had almost forgotten- I have something special for you," he says and I can see his eyebrows waggling under the brim of his hat. He turns around and starts to rummage through his sack. I eye him critically while he's turned around. I question myself. I don't ask myself why he is here, or if I should be worried- I ask myself if I'm really going to reciprocate a drunk Santa's advances. Because I find myself wanting to.

   "I hope you don't mind," he turns around with a box in hand. It snaps me out of my thoughts. "I got you this. I know it's been a rough year on you so I wanted to get you a present that would lift your spirits. Make you jolly."

The box is wrapped in exquisite red and gold paper. Topped with red ribbon and small bells, it was about the size of a shoe box. For the first time in a long time I feel a genuine smile grace my face. I can almost feel magic in the air.

"I was going to leave it in your stocking as a stocking stuffer," he says and winks again at me. I take the box gingerly from his white gloved hands. My fingers brush his briefly but I feel sparks at the contact.

"Since I'm a naughty girl, can I open it now?" I ask, batting my eyes at him. I throw my morals out the window as I slowly remove the ribbon and bells from the box. I wrap the ribbon and bells around my neck as a makeshift choker. I glance coyly at him and I want to giggle- I've never seen a more turned on Santa in my life. He's pitching a tent in those red velvety slacks and I'm certainly not helping his situation as I brush open my night gown.

"Oh ho ho, now now, save this one for later," he says, taking the box from me and placing it under the tree. "I have a much better package for you for now," he says as he opens the fly of his pants. He whips out the biggest dick I've ever seen.

"This is not going to be a silent night," I say while appraising it. I drop onto my knees in front of him and before I can wrap my lips around it he's holding my head back and wagging a finger in my face.

"Tsk, Santa always wraps his package," he chuckles and pulls out a condom. He wraps it and I laugh out of surprise- it's striped like a candy cane. I give it a lick and it tastes like one, too. He runs his gloved hands through my hair and gets a good grasp on my skull as I take him into my mouth and bob my head back and forth. I'm really getting into it when I accidentally graze him with my teeth.

   "Watch it. It's a cock not a jawbreaker," he chides me before plunging back inside. I wish he'd take the condom off so that I could have a white Christmas all over my face, but he has bigger plans than that.

"Want to sit on Santa's lap?" He asks as he gives my jaw a rest. I wipe spittle from my bottom lip as I get off my knees and follow him to the couch. He sits down and I straddle him.

   "All I want for Christmas is you," I giggle as I kiss his bearded face. "And an orgasm," I amend.

   "I think Santa can handle that," he says as he penetrates into my depths. I give an experimental bounce and I hear the bells on my neck jingle- I have a feeling they'll be jingling all the way. Santa picks up the pace of his pounding  and I can't help but moan. While I'm bouncing on him I hear Joy To The World play on the Christmas Jazz radio. This doesn't break our mood.

"You heard the man: Repeat the sounding joy," Santa taunts as he hits the magical spot inside of me that has me gasping for more.

"Christ!" I moan louder. "I mean, Chris! Chris Kringle!"

"Nice save," he grunts, "You naughty ho ho ho. I'm getting close to coming all the way-" he buries his face in my chestnuts as I ride him all the way to Grandma's house. Heaven and angels sing as we come undone. He holds my hips firmly as he finishes and I rest my head on his.

"Thank you, Santa. I-" I begin to try to tell him how much this means to me. I try to tell him how lonely it's been here, by myself, and how I haven't felt loved in so long. He silences me.

   "I already know," he hushes me. "Just as you know. I see you when you're sleeping," he says as he pulls out. I shove off of him and settle down beside him on the couch. He gestures over to the tree.

"And I knew you've been sleeping alone for a very long time. The present I got you... I hope it brings you happiness on the loneliest of nights." He smiles warmly at me as I cover my sweating body back up with my night gown.

"I promise I won't open it until tomorrow," I say. "Are you leaving so soon?" I ask as he gets up. His dick is back in his pants already and he's striding over to the chimney.

   "I must, I'm afraid. Please, you don't have to see me off. The weather outside is frightful after all," he winks at me. "And oh- by the way... don't mention this to the Missus," he says and my jaw drops. I didn't even think about that. With one last chuckle he's disappeared back up my chimney. I sit in near silence, save for the Christmas jazz still playing in the background.

 I fell asleep on the couch. When I awoke the next day it was a beautiful Christmas morning. Snow was falling fresh upon the lawn outside and frosting the trees. Upon waking I had forgotten about the previous night until I felt the slight pain in my groin from an all-too-real night of intercourse. Part of me wanted to just think it hadn't happened. I had told myself no, it was a dream.

   But a dream doesn't leave a present for you to open the next day. And dreams certainly don't leave presents in the shape of candy-cane vibrators that sing christmas tunes. Well played, Santa. Well played.

 


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