Ow. Ache, ache, ow,
Apparently I am not 19 any more.
Ow. Ache, ache, ow,
Apparently I am not 19 any more.
(A late Christmas present for you. xx)
Jenny woke to a loud bang from downstairs. Adrenaline forced her into full wakefullness and she slid out of bed and retrieved the iron poker she kept under her bed for just such occassions. Creeping downstairs, she listened carefully, as much for her own footsteps as for anything beyond. There was a shuffling noise that sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. This was where the women in films always got it wrong by confronting their attacker, only to find themselves overpowered or facing some nightmare from the grave. She stopped, tried to calm her breathing and then decided to do the sensible thing.
‘I’ve called the cops. I’m also armed. If you leave now, I’ll tell them it was my imagination. Take whatever you’ve got and go now,’ Jenny yelled. Silence. Perhaps she should go and call the police. She stood absolutely still and listened to her heartbeat for a full minute. Nothing. She should be sure. The police hated timewasters. Jenny crept down the rest of the stairs.
The kitchen was empty. The contents of the fridge were undisturbed. There were no footprints and the furniture was all where it was supposed to be. Of course, her purse was in the lounge. Perhaps the thief had gone to look in there. Jenny backed out of the kitchen, still half convinced someone might still be in there waiting for her to turn her back.
The hallway seemed to extend to infinity as she edged her way closer to the lounge door with her back to the wall. If there was anybody there the sound of her sliding along the wallpaper was a dead giveaway. Then again, whoever was in the lounge probably knew she lived there and was just waiting for her to step inside. Well, she’d surprise them yet.
Jenny kicked the lounge door open and screamed. That might even alert the neighbours, she thought. The door hit the wall and shuddered. Jenny felt around on the inside wall for the light switch and discovered that the lounge too was empty. She went in and sat down, her heart finally slowing down. Maybe what woke her was sound from next door. She was glad she had not bothered the police now. Back to bed then. Jenny left the lounge and hallway lights on. The house felt safer with the lights on.
Her bedroom was the only room with the lights still off. Padding back in barefoot, she stepped in something cold. There was snow on the floor. Jenny shrieked and fled. She ran straight into a reindeer. Winded, she stood there in shock. Her mind simply went blank but for the simply message, there’s a giant animal in my hall. It blew a great gout of steaming breath out and just stared at her.
‘He likes to be scratched behind his ears,’ a deep voice called out. Jenny turned and peered back into the dark bedroom, still in shock. There was a man dressed as Santa Claus laying on her bed. In her state of mind, the only thing that really seemed to register were his dirty, snow covered boots dripping water onto the end of her bed. Then she screamed.
‘Your neighbours are away for the weekend. Lucky for you really, as last night would have really woken them up. Surprised that the poor guy was walking today. Good work with the whip though, you could be a pro domme with handywork like that.’ Santa sucked on the cigar and blew a huge smoke ring.
Jenny stopped screaming and glared at the man dressed as Santa. ‘How the hell do you know about that?’ The man winked at her and blew a smaller smoke ring through the first. ‘He put you up to this? Nice try, but I stopped believing in Santa a long time ago. And your beard is pathetic. Dead give-way, no? On top of that it’s not even Christmas any more. Now, do I call the police or do you fuck off now?’
Santa tugged his beard and it regained a more traditional, fuller and fluffier appearance. ‘I didn’t realise I had to come in formal wear. There. What do you think now?’
Jenny was struck dumb. The man had become the face of Christmas. Recollection of an empty Christmas suddenly broke her silence. ‘You didn’t do much for Christmas this year did you? Bit late to come crawling around here to apologise.’
The cigar smoke rings formed frowning faces. Santa jabbed the glowing end of the cigar into his beard and it smoulder away, reverting back to his rougher white stubble. ‘Well, you see there’s toys and gifts for the kids that play nice. Then we have what I like to call the naughty list. Guess where you are.’
Blood flushed Jenny’s cheeks. ‘Naughty list? It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong.’
‘Wrong? No. Immoral? I’m not one to judge. Naughty? Let’s say that I only visit the ones who fit my personal definition of the term ‘naughty’. And just so you know, Santa did bring you a gift.’ He nodded towards the end of the bed and there was a long, flat oblong box. Jenny eyed it with suspicion.
‘If this is a joke, you are taking it way too far. If it’s not, then i’m still asleep.’ She reached for the package and bagan to rip the festive wrapping away. Opening the box inside revealed a long cane, spreader bar for her legs, and leather cuffs with ties that she already suspected would fit exactly to each of teh four corners of her bedframe. She turned back to Santa. While he was still laying where he was, his red bottoms were gone and he was naked from the waist down.
‘Your sack is showing.’ Jenny chuckled at herself. ‘Have to admit, it’s bloody huge.’
‘Haven’t you heard? Christmas only comes once a year.’ They both chuckled.
She took the cane from the box and used the tip of it to push his cock around so she could see it more clearly. It was a nice large, thick looking cock. It would probably be massive when he was erect. She gave it a little whack with the cane. Santa yelped. One by one, Jenny fastened the cuffs to the bedpost, and then put the man’s hands and feet into the leather loops and tightened them. Santa was chomping on his cigar and sporting a wide smile and, as she’d hoped, a huge erection.
‘Well, if Santa only comes once a year, we better make it a good one.’ Jenny eased her wet pussy over Santa’s rigid cock and eased its tip between her waiting lips. She sat still a moment, letting a shiver of pleasure run through her, then began to fuck him slowly. The cane and the spreader bar she’d use on him later. Some candles and pegs and the strap on
‘You’re mine now, bad boy.’ Jenny pinched her nipples and began to sing. ‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas….’
The damp patch on the bed sheet is the last of my dream. A love heart from between my legs. I trace my fingers around it, wishing you were mixed in. My partner wakes, showers, returns. Fingers glide through my hair. We fuck. He comes. I don’t. He dresses, kisses, leaves. I wish you were between my legs. Finally, you make me come.