"He's made his list...he's checked it twice. He already knows who's been naughty or nice. Santa Claus is cumin...in town." The elves sang out in unison, busy as beavers. Boxing and bagging cheese and cheese cleavers. Pulling on paper and pushing big leavers. Wrapping Christmas presents with a holiday fever.
The Reindeer where reigned, the presents tagged and named. Wrapping the gifts and garnished them with bows. Then just as quickly, to the sleigh they were stowed. The elves all gathered on elfish elf grove. Way up north, at the North Pole.
Christmas cheer filled the air, as the elves worked with a festive flare. The assembly line symbol'd as the list checkers checked. Making sure all the presents were ready to inspect. Some elves were naked and some wore turtle necks. Santa's workshop was really a wreck.
"Where is Santa?" one elf yelled out. Another shrugged and another pout. "He'll be here, I have no doubt." As screams rang out from the big house.
Santa was in bed, "Stop," you could hear him beg. Up in the air was both his legs. "I can't take it anymore," Ole Saint Nick said. Squeaking and swaying was His bed of red.
"Faster...faster, don't stop now, I'm almost cumming...HOLY COW!" Mrs. Claus blurted excited and proud. She straddled Saint Nick, like a snuggling shroud. Wild and voluptuous she thrusted on Santa's big pole. Then she gave him a blow.
The head board pounded against the wall. Never did Mrs. Claus stall at all. She tugged and pulled at poor Santa's balls. Santa scratched the head board with a death gripped claw.
Bouncing breasts and pouncing thighs, Mrs. Claus rode him like a cowboy riding high. Big breasts a flopping like flopping breast do, then she fingered his little brown "Do...not go there!" Santa yelled as he blew his goo.
Till her ecstasy surged and she finally arose. Kissing Santa on his rosy red nose. Smiling and giggling she settled for a smoke. Then Santa's beard she gently stroked.
"Your amazing old man," Mrs. Claus said with a grin. But poor Santa was a tad bit shaken. He even looked a lil' bit thin. Nothing on but his red socks and skin, pulling the covers up to his chin.
"I don't feel very well," Santa finally said, his face was flush and fully red. Mrs. Claus put her hand up to his head. Her eyes lit up as she finally said.
"You have a fever my jolly husband." She rushed into a drawer and pulled out her hand. A thermometer she probed into Santa's rear end, as it was starting to become clear. Santa was sick, this Christmas she feared.
She called down to the shop and demanded an elf. Put the thermometer, back on a shelf. "One hundred and three is a feverish degree," Mrs. Claus said as Santa sneezed. His poor cock was limp and hung down to his knees. But Mrs. Claus had been pleasantly pleased. She hugged Santa and gave him a squeeze.
A knock came abruptly at the front door, Mrs. Claus scooted across the large floor. Opened it up and let the Elf in. Looked at his crotch with the usual grin. "Come in...come in." She said again and again. Shutting the door with a seductive spin. Her revealing nighty was mighty thin. Hiding hardly nothing, hanging down to her shin.
"Santa is sick and can't make the ride. Get a replacement this Christmas Eve night." The elf looked shocked as he saw Santa's sock. Puzzled a bit then looked at the clock, that let out a jolly tick tock.
"Oh my," the elf sighed, then quickly jetted outside. Running across the North Pole snow. When back at the shop his disappointment showed. Shaking and shivering from the chilling night cold. Or was is the thought of Santa blowing his load?
"What's wrong." Asked an elf, she was wearing a tong. Her hair was blonde and really really long.
"Santa is sick and can't make the flight what will we do this Christmas Eve night?"
"Not to worry Rotic is here, he knows the route he can drive the reindeer." One elf said with a floppy cap on his head. Pointing to the sign above him that read:
