Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

My friend Merry took me Christmas shopping last Wednesday. She knew I had been down in the dumps about life. I moved out of my parents’ house earlier this year, living on my own. I had my own studio apartment, a decent job, and… And that was the problem. I wanted a boyfriend, a man.

Merry had a boyfriend. His name was Jared and he was as a courier. Merry was hoping he would deliver an engagement ring to her for Christmas. I crossed my fingers for her. That was part of my depression. My best friend was anticipating marriage and I didn’t even have an open prospect. Still, I could be happy for Merry.

“Maybe you’ll get it for your birthday,” I told her.

“No way,” Merry said, “I’ll kill him if he does that. He’d better do it on Christmas Day as a Christmas present.”

Merry’s birthday was on Christmas Eve. Her parents spelled her name after the holiday greeting. She hated it. When she got older, her parents became understanding. They celebrated her birthday on June 24th every year. And Merry now expected her man to do the same.

At the mall, we passed by the usual holiday spectacles and displays. Of course, there was Santa Claus and the elf photographer. We came closer and closer to this setup as Merry and I went in and out of stores. She had to have a good outfit for Christmas. She had to look good for Jared’s proposal.

“What if he doesn’t propose?” I asked.

“I’ve been dropping hints for a long time now,” she replied, her voice a little sad. “He better!”

We came up to the Santa Claus entrance. There was no line. The elf, some lady in her forties, looked ridiculous in her costume. And bored.

“Let’s ask Santa!” Merry exclaimed; a little too loud too, as other shoppers looked in our direction. She got an embarrassed look on her face. “Whoa, sorry.”

“Come on,” I said, “That’s stupid. Let’s keep going.”

But Merry wouldn’t budge. She may have hated her birthday next to Christmas, but then that was because she loved it so much.

“Come on, Kat,” she pled, “I’m not the only one who wants something big for Christmas this year.”

“But asking Santa Claus?” I retorted. “That’s kids’ stuff.”

“Now don’t start that with me,” Merry said seriously. “You better watch out. Santa can hear you.” Merry was a true Santa believer. Don’t get me wrong. She knew the big secret. But she still went around acting like there was a real guy from the North Pole who rode a sleigh through the sky. She always talked about what Santa was going to bring her and whether or not she’d been good that year, or rather, how naughty. I put up with it. It was cute the way she did it. And I loved her, so…

“Okay,” I said, “I know.”

Merry took my hand and pulled me into the Santa exhibition. I thought of Merry’s words. Her saying ‘You better watch out’ made me think of that Santa Christmas song.

“You better not cry,” I sang aloud, “You better not pout…”

“I’m telling you why,” Merry joined in. Then we stopped because we had reached Santa’s throne. It was always this big, soft, red chair. The Santa had this really fake beard. He was a big guy though. I couldn’t tell if he was actually fat or if he was just wearing a big suit. But he was definitely tall.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said in a deep voice. He wasn’t faking the voice. He had a nice deep bass. Very gentle. Merry jumped right on his lap. She always took advantage of these guys.

“Come on, Kat!” Merry waved for me to join her, “Take his other knee.”

Santa put out his hand and I obliged. I took his hand and sat down across from Merry. Our knees squished into each other as Merry began.

“Santa? I know what I want for Christmas but I don’t know if you can bring it to me,” she said. “I need you to convince my boyfriend to ask me to marry him on Christmas Day.”

“Oh ho ho!” he laughed. It was obviously fake, but I guess he was actually amused at what she was asking. “Well, that depends dear, on how good you’ve been this year. What is your name?”

“Merry, Santa. As in ‘Merry Christmas’.”

“And what is your name?” he asked me.

“Kat.”

“And have you been a good girl this year?”

“Yes,” I smiled. Somehow, the way he asked me made me feel like a little girl again.

“And what do you want for Christmas?”

“Hey!” Merry interrupted, “You didn’t answer me yet.”

“I’m sorry, Merry,” Santa looked at her. “Were you a good girl this year?”

“Of course I was,” she said.

“Yeah, right,” I said.

“Well, then,” Santa said, “I think I can have a few words with your boyfriend.”

“Thank you!” Merry said. She gave Santa a hug. “I love you, Santa! Now do Kat.”

“And what do you want for Christmas?” Santa asked me again. It was weird. The way he talked to me was decidedly different than the way he talked to Merry. His voice seemed deeper, more sincere. I think he liked me. I didn’t know it, but Merry told me later that I started to blush. So…

“She wants a man in her bed!” Merry blurted, interrupting again!

“What?!” I said.

“No, but seriously Santa, if you could stuff her stocking with a big new vibrator until Mr. Right comes along,” she joked.

“Shut up!” I slapped Merry on the thigh. She laughed and laughed. “You’re living up to your name, Merry,” I countered. “If you don’t stop, Santa will think I belong on the naughty list.”

“Believe me, Santa,” Merry chuckled, “she does!”

“You are so bad! I’m going to…” I started. I pushed Merry off of Santa’s lap.

“Whoa there!” Santa said. The nice man in the suit grabbed me, keeping me from getting another slap on Merry. Merry lied on the floor, laughing at her own joke. She said later that I was really red with embarrassment. I mean, what did this Santa stranger think of me now, hanging out with an uncouth like Merry? He held me tight and then I realized that he was staring at me. I looked back at him, into his brown eyes. It sounds stupid now, but I think I saw them twinkle.

“It’s okay, Kat,” he said, calming me down. “I’m sure you’ve been a very good girl this year, right?” My heart seemed to melt.

“Right.”

“Now, would you like to have a picture taken?” he asked. I was sure he had to ask that every time. It was probably the driving force that put money in his pocket.

“I’m sorry,” Merry answered, getting up, “I promise I’ll behave for picture time.”

Merry rejoined me on Santa’s lap and the elf took our picture. I filled out a little card and paid for it.

“When you make your list and check it twice, keep your eye out for our names on the nice list,” Merry said to the Santa. Merry cracked a few more jokes before we left, but that’s not what sticks in my mind. I just recall what Santa said, more to me than to Merry, “Have fun shopping today. I’ll see you on Christmas!”

On Christmas Eve, I came home from my parents and found that the area beneath my own tiny Christmas tree was occupied by dirty laundry. “The joys of living alone,” I said to myself as I gathered up my laundry basket. I went to the building laundry room and dropped some quarters in the washer. I watched some lame, late night Christmas special and did a little reading to pass the time. Once my clothes were dried, I lugged my clean laundry home and collapsed on my bed. I put on the pajamas my parents had given me.

I had no trouble falling asleep. In contrast, Merry was probably twitching all night in her bed with excitement. For me, I had low expectations for the next day. Relaxed, I fell asleep.

There was a noise. I woke up. I heard something. Somebody else was in the room! I froze. I had never been burglarized before.

What can I do? What can I do?

I asked myself.

I looked out of the covers of my bed at the invader. I could hardly believe what I saw. It was some guy dressed up as Santa Claus.

Creep! I can’t believe this!

I thought. I must have forgotten to lock the door when I got back from the laundry room.

Think!

The intruder sparked a lighter as he lit some candles around the room. With the added light, I saw his face. It was the same Santa Claus that Merry and I had our picture taken with at the mall. He had a sack, which was now empty. He still wore that lame, fake beard. He lit a few candles around the room, oblivious to my alertness. It looked like he had also brought a present: a red box with a green ribbon and bow around it. I started to think that something was up now.

“What in the world are you doing?” I asked, shaking with fright in my bed. It took a bit of courage for me to even open my mouth.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. I thought that he thought that I was still asleep. He spoke with confidence. “You weren’t supposed to wake up quite yet. I saw that you were sleeping, but you woke up when I started with the candles. It’s been taking a bit to get your present ready.” The noise had been the flicking of his lighter.

“Who do you think you are coming into my apartment like this?”

“Santa Claus,” he replied slowly and seriously. That deep voice of his was calming. I felt subdued by it.

“No way,” I said, “Really, who are you?”

“Okay, so I’m just a helper. Santa’s too busy tonight so he sent me on my own.”

“What are you doing?” I asked. He obviously wasn’t going to tell me who he really was.

“Setting the mood for your presents. Now why don’t you just relax? I’m not a robber. I’m here for Christmas.” He took out a big, fat candy cane and handed it to me. “Just suck on that for a minute, listen, and be good for goodness sake.”

Somehow, he took control. And for whatever reason, I let him be in charge. I kind of knew him, you know, from the mall. I did what he said, taking the unwrapped candy cane and slipping it in my mouth.

“You’ve been a naughty girl this year,” he started, “but nice enough to get what’s coming to you.” He came over to me and stripped off the blankets from my bed, revealing my warm, flannel pajamas. He started to undress me. “That’s right, baby,” he said. “Santa has brought you some candy.”

But this definitely wasn’t Santa Claus. He unbuttoned my top, letting my bare breasts out. Then he pulled off my bottoms. That’s when I realized how turned on I was. My panties were warm and moist. I had no idea who he was, but this Santa made me feel hot and special. After tossing away my pajama bottoms, he pulled off my panties. “You’ve been good enough this year to get one of these.” He reached for the wrapped box, opened the lid, and took out a dildo vibrator. “I brought a little tin horn just for you.” My eyes widened, wondering exactly where he was going with this. “But then, I’ve been a good boy this year myself, so you also get one of these.” He pulled down his pants and whipped out his huge, erect penis. I felt my loins squish between my bare legs at the sight of his male member. “I think the real Santa calls his a rooty toot toot.” He hopped onto my bed, hovering over me and pressing his hard rod against my wet crotch. “And you’ve got yourself some nice toy drums and a yummy little rummy tum tum.” The stupid Christmas allusions didn’t matter. It was his sexy demeanor and hot breath that placated my fear and fired my passion. I dropped the candy cane, somewhere.

“Before you do it,” I said quickly, “tell me your name?” It was more of a request or a pleading question than a demand. He was already on top of me. He was so big and powerful.

“Nick,” he quickly replied. Then he thrust himself into my body. His hard erection was plenty thick and nice and smooth. I let out a little, “Oh!” as he split me open.

I had to know who was inside me. I grabbed his beard and tore it off him. He was surprisingly young and attractive. He had short hair and a cleanly shaven face. This was Nick. And he felt fantastic, pumping his huge hard sex inside of me. The candle smoke smelled like cinnamon. And the peppermint from the candy cane lingered on my lips as he kissed me. He started a rhythm, getting himself going on me, but then he stopped.

“This isn’t working,” he said, pulling himself out of me. He sat up and pulled off his suit top. I gasped at his chest. He had a huge, muscled torso with a flat stomach and strong, thick arms. He picked up the vibrator and said, “Get up and turn over, on all fours. It’s time to do what reindeer do.”

“What reindeer do?” I asked. I got up like he asked and turned myself over, thrusting out my curvy behind. I had tasted his body and now I craved him.

“Well, I guess reindeer don’t use vibrators,” he said. He slipped the vibrator into my slick crotch and turned it on. He moved it around and around inside of me. “Let’s get this nice and wet.” Then he pulled out the vibrator and stuck the head against my anus. Then he grabbed my ankles. “Put out your elbows as I lift you up.” He pulled me up to his waist, thrusting his hardness back into my vagina. The vibrator felt like it was about to fall, but he fixed it again, letting it buzz my other big hole. “That’s better,” he announced. He was right. It was unlike anything else I had ever experienced.

He started thrusting in and out, creating a rhythm. His grip on my legs slowly changed as his hands moved further up my body. Soon, I felt his fingers on my clitoris and I started to call out, “Oh yes! Oh Nick!” The pumping of his thick shaft, the gentle rubbing of his thumb across my clit, and the pulsating of the vibrator on my bottom all combined to bring the gentle waves of orgasm. His breathing was growing quicker as my breath grew quicker. I could tell he was waiting for me to come first.

“Oh Nick!” I cried. I started to come. The waves washed through me as my hard nipples bounced against the bed. I came and came. I could feel his penis begin to reverberate and he cried out too.

“I’m coming!” he cried.

The next morning, Nick was still there. We both came twice the night before. I leaned over and kissed him, holding his large frame close to me. This was a happy Christmas morning. I guess I got what I wanted.

And just so you know, Jared didn’t ask Merry to marry her. I guess it pays to be nice. Santa seems to know. He certainly knew me.

Copyright 2002 lordursous