Doris Does Thule

Here I was, Doris Opening, all one hundred and thirty pounds of me, sitting on Santa's knee. If that wasn't enough I was wearing a fuzzy white sweater tight against my 36C boobs, a short tartan skirt, fishnet stockings and high heels. Weird as I felt Santa was even more blown away.

I was here only because the alternative was going to be worse. I had drawn the ultimate dare at last night's office party; it was either spend a night with Bob Allen or give the Heartland Store Santa an erection. You would have to know Bob Allen to truly understand, but believe me giving some old man a boner was going to be a piece of cake compared to having Bob all over me for a night. It was going to be an awful boring Xmas anyway but I wasn’t prepared to spend it with Bob.

It was a bad year for Santa. The True North Star pension fund for retired elves collapsed under the weight of too many telcos and dotcoms. Mrs. Santa had walked out on jolly old Nick a few weeks before Xmas over a minor issue of infidelity, and finally Santa's helpers were on strike over pay equity with the reindeers. Now he found himself having to take a day job, pretending to be a pretend Santa, to make a few bucks to help replenish the pension fund. No, this was not going to be a jolly Xmas. Then, at the tail end of a busy day, after who knows how many little brats whining about their greedy needs, along comes a nut case. Really what did she want, this overgrown tart who was now squirming her way into his lap.

I thought the hard part was over. Getting dressed up in this outfit, making my way downtown and getting into the end of the day line up for Santa had taken all my nerve. I figured sitting on his lap and rotating my bottom a few times till even this old fluff ball came a little alive was not going to be too difficult. He was a man after all. Somewhere under all the stuffing and fat rolls there must be a dick.

The big girl wouldn't stop her squirming and this was really starting to get Santa irritated. As he sat there stoically, asking the same old questions about what she wanted for Xmas, he detected her hand sneaking down between his legs. This was too much, now he had a pickpocket to contend with. Imagine robbing Santa!

It wasn't working, nary a twitch from what I could feel. I could have always tried to fake it but Nina and Elly were standing near me waiting to see some evidence that I had accomplished my mission. I knew they were just itching to report failure so Bob Allen could be brought out of whatever crypt he sleeps in to haunt me for the rest of the night. Damn, there was nothing else to do, so I brought my hand to Santa's thigh and worked it up to his crotch. I was looking for a zipper or an opening in the stupid suit, so I could get my hand on his flesh.. All of a sudden he stood up and threw me off balance. I landed on the floor, my skirt somewhere around my belly button, Santa standing over me and glaring at my bikini panties.

Santa didn't mince words. He told the overgrown play yard hoodlum what he thought about someone trying to rip off Santa. He was so riled up he used the ultimate epithet, telling Doris there would be no Xmas presents for her as she was bad all the way through.

I had to confess, there was no other way and time was running out, my so called friends were coming closer to hear what was being said and the store clerks were giving us some strange looks. I told the Santa why I was visiting him.

Santa had a rather naive image of the world, which was just as well. But the idea of this girl, as he thought of her, willing to play with his weenie, well this cast a whole new hue on the his outlook. This was his crisis. It also might be his salvation. Time was critical and there was none to spare.

All my common sense told me to not listen to the red robed nut. The words kept spilling out and I heard work stoppage, Santa helpers, lost revenue and stock collapse, needy children, act of kindness, won't take long. I followed him out behind his throne and into a back hallway, mostly to get away from the prying eyes and ears around us. I could take care of myself, and certainly with this old fogy.

It was simple for Santa once Doris followed him to his change room. A couple of waves of his wand and they were flying high above the earth in the world famous sleigh, heading for Ultima Thule

There really isn't much point my trying to explain what happened next because I'm not really sure and if I did guess you wouldn't believe me anyway. Just accept it for a fact that the old guy from the Heartland Store was Santa, yes I can hear your sniggering, and he took me to his home at the North Pole. REALLY.

Santa again explained to Doris how time was running out and production of toys had ceased when the Helpers had gone on strike. Their grievance was that the reindeer were given all the perks and the Helpers received nothing but stress from the imposed deadlines. With Mrs. Santa out of the picture there wasn't even cookies and warm milk to entice them to work harder. Would Doris be willing to do to the Helpers that she had planned for Santa. He thought it would give them a big lift of spirits.

Santa's helpers are small little men, standing about knee high to me. Their bodies are well proportioned, and they are rather muscular in their little way. I couldn't think there was much harm in complying with Santa's request, hell it was still better than dating Bob Allen. The Helpers' strike committee heard out Santa's offer, held a conference and came back with a revised proposal. They would return to work if all fifty of them received a blow job from me. For whatever reason I was feeling pretty horny and curious about the Helpers equipment, so I agreed.

Santa was overjoyed with the agreement. He had a big comfy chair for Doris to sit in and brought out a tall maple table which he placed in front of her. Santa assisted each Helper up onto the table. Standing upright and close to Doris the little Helpers dicks were about level with her mouth. The first Helper in the anxious line dropped his pants and proudly showed off his little erect penis.

It wasn't really hard work, in fact I would describe it as sipping fine liquor through a very tiny straw. Each of the little men had a little cock, primed and ready to go off at the first gentle application of my lips. A light squeeze, a quick squirt of tasty fluid and the Helper was a happy worker again. Each little jism was flavoured differently. Raspberry, cherry, rum, even root beer, which makes sense when you think about it. The only precaution I had to take was to avoid sucking into my mouth their balls. They were very concerned on this issue and I admit the first couple of guys might have thought I was going to emasculate them.I had never imagined doing it with so many fellows, even if they were miniatures. Kiss, suck and sip, how the time flew. After the fiftieth Helper had been sucked off I was soaking at the crotch and I would have probably fucked Rudolph, had he been in sight. As it was Santa came to the rescue.

Watching Doris do her thing Santa felt his dick begin to stir. As the Helpers relieved themselves Santa watched Doris start to squeeze her thighs together and move her hips. Santa decided then to give Doris the best Xmas present he could.

I climbed back on Santa's lap, but this time no sweater, no skirt and no stockings. Just little old big me, with Santa equally undressed, his jolly red and engorged cock slapping into me as he pushed me up and down. He tweaked my nipples and kissed me deeply as I rode him every inch of the way. I had my Xmas present. I had Santa deep inside my pussy and all was well with the world.