The soft thud on the roof was barely audible, yet it woke young Jason up with a fright.
"What the??" he thought. "Shit! Someone's on the roof!"
Grabbing his hockey stick as he leapt out of bed, Jason dashed to the window, his mind racing.
"I'll deal with this burglar and show those arseholes that I'm no Mummy's Boy!"
Jason was 18, lived at home with his parents and was still a virgin, a combination his mates constantly ribbed him about. They'd push him around saying, "Hey Mummy's Boy, you can't even pull a girl, let alone fight like a man! You can't even take a girl out without Mummy's approval." There would be no point in going out with a girl Mother didn't like." Jason thought, "She'd never let her in the house."
Slowly and quietly, Jason opened his window and lent out thinking, "They'll see that I'm not to be messed with when I've sorted this burglar out." He heard something rolling down the roof and looked up, at the same moment that the object hit him in the face, "SPLAT!"
"Shit!' Thought Jason as he wiped the smelly substance from his hands and looked at it,
"IT'S COW SHIT!!" Then it suddenly disappeared from his hand and face like magic, just as if it were never there. "Weird?" he thought to himself.
Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure with a big bag disappear through the bathroom window. "Gotya!" Jason said quietly as he raced back inside and headed for the bathroom, then he heard a noise from the lounge. "The presents! They're after the Christmas presents!"
Jason peered around the door, his hockey stick raised. There in the dark, he could make out a figure with its back to him, bent at the waist. It had a big bag in one hand and was taking things out of it to place under the tree with the others.
"Santa?" Jason thought quizzically.
Hockey stick still raise, Jason flicked the light on. "Holy Mother of Jesus!" Jason said out loud. In front of him and bent over at the waist, was a beautiful woman, the sort of woman he'd only ever seen in those girlie calendars.
Shiny black knee high boots, followed by a pair of firm creamy thighs that led up to a perfect arse wearing a red g-string. A red jacket with white fur lining, held at the waist by a big black belt. The standard Santa hat hung down from her head as she stayed bent over and looked back at him from between her legs and saying, "Dammit! My first night out and I get caught."
