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T'was the Night Before Christmas

12

And all through the house, not a creature was stirring… especially not that bloody mouse. I’d got the little bugger just that morning with the frying pan. No longer would I have to endure his little squeaks of triumph as he barrelled across the floor, up onto the table and made off with a leg of lamb or a couple of kilos of cheese. He was now mouse pancake. My retarded Sulphur Crested Cockatoo, Hanns Schmidt had looked on as the mouse had zigged when he should have zagged. The bird rocked merrily on his perch and let loose with his customary litany of death threats before lapsing into demented mutterings about nothing. I would have got rid of Hanns a long time ago but I had heard that Cockatoos tasted like shit. Maybe with a bit of cranberry jelly on New Years day.

Actually in the interests of accuracy it was really the early hours of Christmas day. As usual I had found it impossible to sleep and was feeling pretty sorry for myself. It was my first Christmas on my own and also the first in my new flat. There I was… lying on the couch with the murder of the mouse a nearly forgotten memory. To create a bit of atmosphere I had piled logs in my fire place even though it was about 26 degrees Celsius and I was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Beside the fireplace was my “Christmas tree”, a short, stubby, rubber plant in a cheap plastic pot. I had draped a bit of tinsel over it and had briefly contemplated stringing some lights on it but decided against it, as it would surely sound the death knell for this long suffering and noble plant. Under the tree sat my Christmas presents to me, wrapped in the shiniest of Christmas paper. A carton of cigarettes and a DVD of the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders in action.

As was my recently established Christmas tradition I had settled in to indulge my Christmas fantasy. Closing my eyes I was transported to the Dallas Cowboys cheerleader locker rooms. As I gazed in wonder, hats, boots and vests flew everywhere as these luscious creatures disrobed just for me. Naked breasts bobbed and bounced all around me. Long toned limbs flashed in the soft light of my fantasy world and soft Texas drawls purred endearments in my ears as I started to stroke my cock.

“Honey, you are the best baby!”

“Dahlin, you are too much man for me!”

“Be gentle stud, it’s nearly my first time this week.”

“Oh God Shane! Where have you been all my afternoon?”

A hand full of moisturiser was aiding me on my way to ultimate fulfilment when I was rudely interrupted.

“Ohhhhhh SHIIIIIIIIIIT! This is going to hurrrrt!” The yell came from outside and was immediately followed by a huge crash. The house shook under the impact of something huge on the roof. When the soot from the chimney settled I heard a scrabbling sound followed by muffled curses. Then nothing. Total silence. Not a creature was stirring, not even Mr. Happy who had relaxed back to his normal flaccid state.

The noises started again. This time a slithering, sliding, sound came from the direction of my chimney. This was enough to have me sitting bolt upright, my cock back in my pants, in the time it took to say, “Jesuschristallbloodymightywhatthefuckwasthat!” I was about to find out.

With a loud thump a large sack landed on my carefully stacked but now sooty pile of logs. As I stared at it in wonder it was followed slowly by a pair of black stiletto heeled pumps with 4 inch heels, at the end of a pair of slim long lovely legs. The hem of a red mini dress stopped about 6 inches from what I assumed was the Promised Land.

“Oh God… now I’m stuck! Don’t just sit there gawking… help me you wanker!” The voice was decidedly female and sounded very pissed off while still managing to sound sexy. It was also American.

Scrambling from the couch I examined the problem from a closer range which was definitely no hardship. Those legs were absolutely outstanding. I was now very keen to see the rest of the critter that was jammed in my chimney. Leaning into the hearth I wrapped my arms around the slender legs and started to pull. My efforts were having the desired result when a fresh wave of cursing made me stop and look up. My visitor wore black lace underwear of amazing quality and sheerness. From what I could see my visitor was most definitely a she… a she who visited a waxing salon with regularity. Her skirt had caught and was now rucked up around a very shapely pair of hips I stood and ogled… I couldn’t help it. This made the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders look like a pack of muppets.

Next moment I was picking myself up off the floor. Her kick was delivered with the force of a pissed off mule and had hit me just North of the family jewels. The kick had also done a bit to dislodge my mysterious visitor from her perch. She was now half crouched in the fireplace stuck from the chest up. I could see that the skirt was actually part of a red mini dress held at the waist by a wide patent leather belt with a large silver buckle. It also seemed to be trimmed in what looked like white fur. I could only see the tail end of it so I couldn’t be sure. The voice now changed to a soft pleading tone.

“Hon? Can you please help me out here? I’m sorry I kicked you… I’m having a bad night here and I’m very new to all this. Brand new actually. Help me out of this mess and I’ll let you buy me a coffee and tell you all about it. How ‘bout it?”

“Any more kicking and I’ll feed you to Hanns. He’s a trained killer.” I told her in a light voice followed with a laugh. “Hold tight and I’ll have you out in a second.”

I was true to my word and in a couple of seconds she was sitting in my hearth… once again cursing me with all her considerable vocabulary.

“Shit! Now I’ve got splinters in my ass!” The log pile, on reflection, wasn’t the best landing place I could have put her on. Gingerly she stood and twisted, trying to get a good look at her wounded area. No luck… it was obviously out of range so being the gentleman I am I offered my assistance.

“Let me have a shot at it. Maybe I can pluck the little devil outa there for you?”

“Back off big, bad, and gruesome! I’ve heard all about you Kiwis. Perverts the lot of you. Ouch!” She carried on twisting and turning trying to get at the offending sliver parked squarely in the tender flesh of her posterior. This afforded me a great view of her previously hidden attributes.

The scooped neckline of her dress was indeed trimmed with white fur which served to highlight what was an impressive set of breasts. A C cup at least. Her waist was narrow, hips slim and beautiful, legs long and her face… aah her face. Gorgeous was the word that sprang immediately to mind. Large green eyes, fine features and a mouth that was practically screaming “Kiss me!” All this framed by a lustrous mane of dark copper hair. I was doing my best stunned mullet impression; mouth opening and closing, when I noticed something. Something miraculous.

She was spotless. Not a hair was out of place and she had nary a trace of soot on her person. It was as if she had just stepped out of a beauty salon. Something wasn’t quite right here. She gave up the fight and turned to me.

“Alright Shane, you got your shot, but let me warn you that one wrong move will find you needing the services of a good urologist first thing Christmas morning. Comprende?”

“Gotcha. By the way… who are you? Are you always this friendly or is it something to do with the bad night you’re having? And how did you know my name? And why did you come down my chimney? And finally… what the fuck happened on my roof? I just moved in here and haven’t paid my security bond yet. If there is any damage up there I am right in the shit… neck deep!” With the benefit of hindsight I can say now that it should have been glaringly obvious, but then no one has ever accused me of being the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

Rolling her eyes, this vision threw a glance heavenward and turned her back to me, bending at the waist as she did. She had a world class ass. What the boys down at the pub called a pornstar ass. And I was about to get my grubby little mitts on it. Thank god for splintery wood.

The black lace panties were actually an amalgamation of lace and satin. Not quite a g-string, not quite full briefs, the band at the rear of her panties neatly bisected her spectacular ass cheeks. There, rudely protruding from the soft white skin of her left cheek was the demon splinter. Bent over as she was, hands on knees, feet slightly spread, and looking back at me warily over her shoulder, she was the epitome of my wettest of wet dreams. My cock reached full hardness in mere nano seconds. I could have pounded nails with it, it was that hard. My flimsy rugby shorts struggled to disguise the effect she was having on me and finally they gave up the fight. The head of my cock popped up over my waistband. I blushed and bent to the task at hand. To cover my embarrassment I spoke.

“So are you going to answer my questions?”

“Okay studly. First off, you can call me Sanity Clause for want of something better. I’m sorry I’m being bitchy but I’ll explain it all over a nice cup of cappuccino. Finally… think about it. It is the wee small hours of Christmas morning. There is a crash on your roof and someone slides down your chimney dressed in red and black. Can you put it together or do you want to borrow my slide rule. Aah shit sorry for that. I guess I am bitchy. Do your stuff with my butt, make a coffee and we can start fresh okay?”

So Santa was real! My parents had bullshitted me. Bastards! I bent to the task at hand.

Her skin was soft and perfumed, the muscles underneath firm and flexible. It was a butt I could fall in love with. In moments I had the offending timber removed from her lovely bottom. Before she stood up I leaned forward and gave her a swift soft kiss on the ass.

“That one is free, but if you try it again without being invited you’ll need a proctologist to remove my shoe from your ass.” She murmured sexily, but with enough steel in her voice to let me know she still meant business. “Coffee time.”

Obediently I put the coffee on to brew and then rummaged through the fridge for something I could feed this lady. As I searched she talked.

“I’m not the real Santa of course. I’m a clinical psychologist from Las Angeles and he is one of my patients. The poor guy has had a bit of a shitty run of luck this year. His wife ran off with Dirk O’Buggery the elf supervisor in his workshop, and he discovered his son, Rodney, is actually the Tooth Fairy. When he turned up at our regularly scheduled time yesterday I could see that he was toasted. He stunk like a distillery and was as high as a kite on a few lines of good Coke. There was no way he could do his run. Stupidly I offered to do it for him. It was really a token gesture on my part but he jumped on it in a flash. Ten seconds later he was snoring his ass off on my couch and I was dressed in this outfit clutching a booklet of instructions. Valet parking for my building rang and said I had a sleigh waiting. I’ve been delivering all night. The reindeer got stroppy… I think it was a union thing… and we piled into your roof. The rest is recent history. Can you throw a shot of scotch into that coffee hon?”

“So you landing here was all a big accident?” I asked as I added a healthy dollop of scotch to her coffee… then paused and took a slug straight from the bottle. I was a bit miffed to think that I wasn’t on Santa’s nice list. I thought I had been pretty damned good this year… especially to that hot looking girl down at the supermarket checkout. About 21, five foot 7, long blonde hair, tits like… anyway I thought I had been good.

“Actually I was on my way here as part of my route. Apparently you’ve been a good wee lad and deserve something. Shall we see what we’ve got for you?” She stood and walked over to the sack still lying in my fireplace. Bending and reaching in for it was almost heart stopping for me as she neglected to use good lifting practice and bent from the hips with her legs straight and slightly apart. I knew right then and there what sort of gift I wanted. And I doubted she had it in her sack.

“Oh hell! I’ve given your gift to Mrs Paderewski over the road. I hope she likes porn movies. If memory serves me correctly you were supposed to get a complete set of “Humongous Hooters and Hot Harlots” DVDs. She was supposed to get this.” It was a coffee mug with “Worlds Best Granny” emblazoned on the side in day-glo pink script.

To say I was pissed would be the understatement of the millennium. Here it was, Christmas morning of the first time I have been a good enough adult to deserve a gift and some administrative snafu had delivered my loot into the hands of some old bat down the road. I was mad enough to spit tacks.

“I’m sorry Shane.” Purred Sanity Clause with what I thought sounded like a real tone of regret. Perhaps she was thawing? “I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you.” There it was!

I had been good all year and all it had won me was a mangy old coffee mug. Time to be evil and grab myself a taste of the luscious Sanity.

“Now that you mention it there is something you could do.” I said with an evil grin. “You could help me with this.” So saying I reached into my pants and pulled out my half hard cock.

Sanity was still bent over in her original position but was twisted slightly so she could look back at me. One look at my cock brought gales of laughter from her gorgeous throat.

“That little thing. God man, back where I come from that wouldn’t even make a good appetiser. Does it get bigger?” Okay that was the final straw. I crossed the room in two bounds and grabbed her around the waist thrusting my hardening cock in between those two outstanding globes of buttock flesh. The forward impact of my rush pushed her towards the fireplace and she quickly threw out her hands against the mantle and thrust back. The delicious friction of her slippery satin crotch on my cock had me rock hard in a matter of seconds. Once again I could do basic carpentry with it. In fact I was hoping to get down to some serious screwing in a matter of moments. Her head whipped around and I saw the look of shock on her face… shock and delight. I was going to show her just how naughty I could be. I hoped it would be nice for her.

As she rocked back I put pressure on her crotch with the hard muscle of my cock, then gently pushed her away maintaining pressure on her dampening pussy all the while. I did this a couple of times before I realised that she was copying and maintaining the same rhythm. I let her do all the work and released her hips, reaching forward and cupping her substantial breasts.

Sanity moaned and whipped her head round, staring me straight in the eye.

“All right stud, you’ve got one shot. Make me come or you’ll be looking for a good Orthodontist in the morning.” The common thread of her threats revealed to me that she had a serious medical profession fetish. Too horny to try to exploit this I settled in for a solid session of frantic sex. Sliding my hands into the neck of her dress I attempted to lever her breasts out of their lace bra. This earned me the gentle admonishment of “Leave it alone you pillock, you’ll wreck my bra!” and a slap on the hand.

Disengaging herself she spun to face me. A tender smile crossed her gorgeous face and she reached up behind her neck and unzipped the dress.

“Now take it off baby. And let’s get a bit more comfortable. I assume your bed is in there?” She indicated the door to my bedroom with a flick of her head.

“It is.” I managed to croak out with all the suave sophistication of a biker at a stripper’s convention. I had morphed into one huge raging hormone on legs. Unsteady legs I discovered as I led the way shakily to my room. Thank god I had tidied up and changed the sheets that day. I tried to do it twice a year whether it needed it or not.

Entering the bedroom I walked to my bed, surreptitiously sniffing the air for any scent of rancid socks. The sudden shove in the middle of my back sent me sprawling into the middle of my bed. I rolled over and propped myself on my elbows, watching what she was up to.

Sanity was draped all over the door frame in the style of the femme fatales of years gone by, her dress hanging loosely at the neck because of her open zip. As soon as she was sure she had my undivided attention she moved to the bed. Her form of locomotion could most accurately be described as slinking, and man could that woman slink! Stopping a couple of feet from the bed she did a little shimmy and her dress was suddenly an attractive red pool at her feet. The black lingerie was all that stood in the way of my ultimate Christmas. Stepping out of the pool at her feet she crawled up onto the bed and advanced on my helpless figure. Pausing only to mop at the drool on my chin, I slid down the bed to meet her half way.

As she crawled her fingers were fumbling with the catch on her bra. By the time she reached me the garment was hanging off the bedpost at the foot of my bed. In moments we were nipple to nipple, our lips locked together in a passionate kiss. Sanity’s tongue lashed mine, and wildly probed my mouth, exploring as far as she could. Her heavy breasts dragged across my now naked chest; her nipples a contrast in hardness against the soft flesh of the rest of her mounds. We were both now upright on our knees. Struggling to maintain lip contact I pushed my shorts down and off. The purple head of my hard cock was now butting against her flat firm stomach.

As my hands slipped down her back to cup and caress her firm ass cheeks, hers drifted between my legs to grasp my cock and slowly stroke and tease me. I felt the silky pad of her thumb slide across the eye of my hardness, spreading the drop of precum that had gathered there. My hands were busy kneading and separating her ass cheeks, slowly exploring further and further between them until my fingers were brushing against the now wet crotch of her panties. I could feel the smooth wet softness of her pussy lips as they flowered open under my light touch. Just as my finger dragged slowly over the hard nubbin of her clit, I felt her thumb swirl under the head of my cock and around the rim of the corona. We moaned at the same time. It was time to take this up a notch.

Sliding my thumbs into the waistband of her panties I slipped them down her long legs and with a bit of wiggling managed to get them off. This was where I was going to show her who was boss right? Wrong. With another mighty shove I was on my back and she was sliding her pussy onto my face. It was reflex to start licking and probing with my tongue… a reflex I didn’t think she would be complaining about. My tongue immediately drove deep between the lips of her wet pussy and deep inside her. She tasted delicious; sweet and spicy, with a slight tang to make things very interesting. Her fingers wound their way into my hair and pulled me close… close enough to have my nose mashed against her clit. Every time I moved my head it put direct pressure on her clit and sent bolts of pleasure racing through her. Sanity was now constantly moaning and her thrusts onto my tongue were starting to come sporadically. I knew she wasn’t far off from her first orgasm. My hands were free and at the time not being used for anything useful, so I decided to remedy that and help sanity along towards her orgasm. One hand slid up to cup and squeeze her breast while the other slipped to her ass. My fingers swirled around her asshole and then down to her wet pussy. I raised my aim with my lips and tongue and quickly captured her erect clit, sucking it into my mouth, at the same time sliding a finger deep inside her and searching out the rough bump that was her G spot.

I hit it right off the bat. I had visited G spots before and like most Kiwi males I had a good instinctive memory for directions. Sanity went ballistic. Two seconds after my finger found and massaged her G spot I was having real trouble breathing. She ground herself down on my face and started bucking… hard. Her hands flew to the side of my head and grabbed my ears which she used as convenient handles to drag me further into her spasming pussy. What started out as a low moaning rose in pitch and volume until she was keening a high pitched cry to the heavens. Her orgasm was truly spectacular, and all I could do was hold on for the ride and hope I lived to tell the tale. As she coasted down the back slope of her orgasm she relented and the grip slackened on my ears. Being able to breathe again had its own benefits.

12
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