Blog Posts Satire and Fiction

Santa is Coming….

By Max Treehonk

Holly stepped through the glass doors of her office building into the bracing night air. A half an inch of pristine, new snow crunched under the heels of her boots, as she hurried to her car. Was she motivated by the cold, or was it excitement for the holiday? She smiled to herself as she tried to decide. Yes, she welcomed the embrace of her heated leather seats as she pulled out of the parking garage, but she definitely felt her heart in her chest as she anticipated the evening to come. A familiar tingle made her squirm in her seat and she laughed out loud, “Excitement it is!”

Festive lights cast warm reflections in the windows of her apartment building lobby. It took several attempts for her key to find the keyhole in the mailbox. A deep breath calmed her shaking hands.

“Looks like we got our white Christmas this year, eh Holly?” It was her downstairs neighbor, Kris. On a normal night she would have welcomed some small talk, she liked Kris… but tonight she was preoccupied.

“Yes,” She said, “It’s beautiful!” Holly gathered her mail and locked the box.

Kris lingered. “So I was wondering,” he began, “I’m having a little get together tonight for Christmas Eve, and I thought maybe if you wanted to come by…”

Holly cut him off, “Kris, that sounds fun, but I can’t tonight, Santa is coming!” She turned and started up the staircase, “Have a good night!”

She whisked into her apartment, out of breath from the stairs. Her keys and mail hit the table, a flick of the light switch illuminated the tree in the corner, and a quick thumb on the remote started the music. She turned on the oven on her way to the bedroom to change, and lit some candles on the table on her way back out. Cookie dough from the fridge went into the oven and she watched the falling snow from the window as she drank a glass of wine. The aroma of cookies cooling on the counter filled the room as she poured another glass of wine and started a bath. A fizzy bath bomb, some lotion, and a new nighty (red of course) left only one more thing to do. A plate of cookies and a glass of milk on the coffee table completed the scene. Holly sank into her couch, twinkling Christmas lights and flickering candles danced the shadow of the tree on the wall as she waited for him to arrive.

Somewhere between the wine and the music, she let herself drift off. She felt him in the room before she was fully aware. She faintly smelled baking bread, sensed a shadow over her, and heard a whisper…

“I see you when you’re sleeping…” peppermint breath and a soft beard touched her ear, then the flick of a warm tongue opened her eyes, “And I know when you’re awake…”

He was there at last! She turned and offered her mouth to him, her red lips parting to accept his kiss. Her fingers toiled in his silky beard as she pulled his face toward her, drinking him in. He tasted like candy canes. The warmth of his body relaxed her, a peaceful wave of comfort and joy washed over her as she pulled him onto her, pressing into the couch under his weight. She pecked her way down his jaw and neck, seeking his massive chest as she used both hands to pull his red, velvety jacket open. Holly inhaled greedily, his musky scent filling her. Warm gingerbread, or a pan of cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven, maybe fruitcake? She couldn’t quite pin it down, but the thought was fleeting anyway. Her legs fell open and wrapped around him, her heels pressing into his muscled buttocks, grinding his swelling manhood against her. He lifted his upper body with his arms and looked down at her, eyes twinkling as he spoke.

“Mrs Claus sends her regards!” He said in a baritone voice.

“Tell her thank you,” Holly said breathlessly, “And I appreciate her sharing you with me! You should bring her with you one of these years, I could tell her myself!” An impish grin crossed her face as her hands found his thick black belt and began to unbuckle it.

Santas laugh was deep and genuine, “Ho ho ho, you’d have a difficult time pulling her away from the elves tonight, they have a little tradition of their own on Christmas Eve!”

Holly released him from her legs and reached down his pants, brushing her finger tips down his straining shaft to cup his ample balls in her hand. She gently guided him up her body, purposefully dragging his erection between her breasts, his pants falling away as he hovered above her. She buried her face into the base of his pulsing cock, her cheeks nuzzling his weighty sack, and once again inhaled his familiar and comforting scent. Her eager tongue traced its way along his throbbing member and eventually, mercifully, she engulfed his length with her soft, willing mouth.

He slipped his hand behind her head and clenched a handful of her hair in his gloved fingers as she invited him deeper, locking eyes and inching him further with her tongue and throat.

“You have been a good girl this year!” He said, admiring her talent. Holly smiled around his cock, confident that he had already been well aware of the practice she had been putting in since last year, but not letting it stop her from showing off just a little longer and deeper.

When he could wait no more, Santa pulled her away, a little rougher than before, his urgency exciting her as he half forced her, face down, over the arm of the couch. She arched her back, pushing her pelvis to him as he dropped to his knees and yanked her red panties to the side. She felt the leather of his gloves on her as he spread her open, his mouth somehow savage and gentle all at once, his tongue probing and devouring, the same peppermint tingle of his kiss now a sweet torment there as well.

Visions danced in her head. Sensations ebbed and flowed, tastes and smells, warmth and chills… A year of anticipation and fantasy now a swirling vortex of daring and desire, each experience building or abating, an entire night both exciting, yet familiar.

She found herself in front of him now, standing over him as he sat looking up at her from the couch. He reached for her with strong arms, large powerful hands around her waist pulling her onto him. His bearded face pressed to her belly. He lowered her body to find her nipples with his mouth, hardening them with his intoxicating, minty breath. Lower still her mouth met his, tongues dancing, lips passing sighs back and forth, and back again. Finally, wet and aching, she received him with a groan of satisfaction, a year of waiting cast away as he filled her in an instant. He pulled her down, burying himself deep. She ground her hips into his, a building pressure shared between them, writhing toward a cataclysm of agony and ecstasy.

She was becoming weightless. A little at first, like grains of sand through an hourglass… eventually pebbles, then rocks, then boulders… raging down a mountain. The gravity of the last year was leaving her. He was pulling her down onto him because if he didn’t she would float away. She felt him explode inside her and wrapped her arms around him, to stop herself from rising as her own avalanche continued. The music and lights enveloped her as she clung to him. There was no containing it now, it all slipped away. She became lighter and lighter. The brightness dimmed. The music faded. His grasp eroded. And she was mist.

Far away, a tapping… What was it? She listened. There it was again, tapping, tapping, tapping. She emerged slowly. Where was she? She heard Christmas music. Light filtered through her eyelids. She forced them open. Daylight streamed through the windows. The tapping again… Holly sat upright. She was on her couch in her living room. She listened. The tapping was her door…someone was at her door. She stood up. A half eaten cookie and a mostly empty glass of milk sat on the corner of the table. A wine glass was on the floor. She plodded toward the door and opened it.

“Hi neighbor!” It was Kris. He was holding a tray wrapped in red cellophane. And he was staring. She had answered the door in her nighty.

“Good morning,” she pulled her top closed as best she could, and then gave up. “Sorry,” She offered, “I guess I just woke up.”

Kris composed himself. “Don’t be,” He said, “I just wanted to drop some stuff from the party, since you couldn’t make it.” He handed her the tray, “Merry Christmas!” He said, allowing himself a long, last look as she closed the door.

Holly put the plate on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. She removed the cellophane. Gingerbread, a cinnamon roll, and fruitcake…

She leaned back and smiled. Yup, she liked Kris.

Max Treehonk was just one of two contributors who earned himself a free copy of PDXScene Magazine this month by contributing to our Holiday Erotic Fiction challenge! Look for our next Erotic Fiction Challenge coming up in January for a copy of our February issue, and try your hand at a little Valentines erotic fiction. If your story is selected, we will publish your story, and send you a complimentary copy of our February Issue!

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