Santa in Texas

Author's Preface: Merry Christmas. This is one of my entries in the

Literotica Winter Holidays Story Contest 2024

.

Everyone in this story is eighteen years old or older. The story is entirely fictional. Any similarities to real people or events are purely coincidental. Constructive comments are always welcome.

Enjoy

Santa in Texas - Santa gets stopped for speeding

Santa was in Texas, and it was snowing. That wasn't unusual for the barren Panhandle of Texas. She stopped at the first house on her list and delivered the presents for the kids. As she flew out of the chimney, red and blue lights were flashing, upsetting the reindeer.

She walked over to calm them, and a cop yelled, "Freeze. Let me see your hands."

All she could see was a flashlight in her eyes. Slowly raising her hands, her short red skirt rose enough to show her tiny green panties. The cop lowered his flashlight beam down to the hem of her skirt.

"Put your hands down so I won't have to take you in for public indecency," he said.

She lowered her hands, and he looked her over. He didn't think she could be more than 20 years old. She was a pretty little thing with long blonde hair and a round face with cheeks like roses. Standing at about five foot two inches tall, she wore a heavy red low-cut button-up coat that barely contained her ample breasts and a skirt long enough to cover her green panties, if she didn't raise her hands. The whole outfit had white fur piping on the edges. Her slender legs were covered in red and white striped stockings that came to her upper thighs. Tall black lace-up boots with high heels covered her calves. On top of her head was a stocking cap with a fur tassel at the end.

The cop, who was in his early twenties, strutted over to the sleigh with his hand on his gun, and in an official voice said, "I need to see your driver's license, ma'am."

"I don't have a driver's license. I don't need one," Santa said.

"You need a license to operate a motor vehicle in the State of Texas, ma'am."

"Do you see a motor?"

The cop looked at the reindeer.

"OK, what's your name?"

"Don't you recognize me? I'm Santa Clause." He started to write it down but stopped. He wondered why all the nut jobs came out on holidays.

"You can't be Santa Clause, you're obviously a young woman and a sexy one at that. Everyone knows Santa is an old man with a big belly and a white beard."

"Typical assumptions from a man. For centuries, male writers led you to believe that only a man can be Santa. Strong women threaten their manhood. Do you really think I'm sexy?"

"Age?" he asked ignoring her.

"Your mother taught you not to ask a woman her age."

"I need it for the report."

"I'm thirty years old if you must know."

"No, you're not. No thirty-year-old woman looks as sexy as you do."

"Thank you, dear. We Clause's don't age as fast as you do. That's the second time you've said I was sexy."

He looked at her blue eyes and shook his head to clear his mind.

"Never mind that. Where do you live, Ma'am?"

"The North Pole."

"There are a lot of Russki stations at the North Pole. Are you one of those commies?"

"No, I give toys to all the good little boys and girls."

"So, you want to distribute the wealth."

"Well, yes. All good boys and girls should get presents on Christmas."

"Typical commie line. Where have you been tonight?"

"Russia, Korea, Japan, China, Europe, and now here."

"You sure get around. Where's your passport?"

"I don't need a passport."

Santa lit her pipe, and a curl of smoke rose. The cop grabbed it from her and sniffed it.

"What's in this pipe?"

"Oh, that's some high-grade Maui Wowie I picked up in Colorado. Would you like some?"

"Marijuana? That's not legal in Texas. I'm going to need you to step away from the...vehicle. What the hell is this thing anyway?"

"A sleigh."

"And those animals?"

"Reindeer."

"Have you got a wild animal permit?"

"No."

"That's going to be a hefty fine."

"Stand there and don't move."

The cop looked around at the sleigh. "This vehicle has no safety inspection sticker, no headlights or...wheels for that matter."

"It doesn't need a safety inspection sticker. I don't need headlights because of Rudolf, and sleighs don't have wheels."

"This vehicle is not registered; I can't even find a VIN. I'm pretty sure sleighs need to be registered."

"It's too old for that."

"How old?"

"It was handmade by my great-great-great-great-great grandmother over a thousand years ago."

"Likely story."

The cop poked around in the sleigh. "Let's see. A bong, well over two ounces of marijuana, flat-screen TVs, laptop computers, iPads, cell phones, assorted dolls, bicycles, scooters, sleds, puppies, kittens, and video games. Well, Ms. Clause, you've collected quite a few goods. Who do you fence it through?"

"Those are gifts."

"And that big bag of cookies? They're gifts too?"

"Well yes. They're gifts to me. The children leave them."

"So, you sneak into houses, take kid's cookies, and leave presents?"

"Yes. But only for the good boys and girls."

"And you don't take anything?"

"No."

"Except for those cookies," he reminded her.

"Sometimes they leave me a glass of milk, too. I'd get fat if I ate all the cookies, but the kids would be disappointed if they weren't gone. Would you like some cookies, Tommy?"

"That's Officer Tommy, I mean Davis, to you. How do you know my name?"

"I've been in your house every Christmas since you were born. You were a good boy. Do you remember the bike I got you when you were eight years old?"

"My dad got that for me even though I didn't see him that year. He left it under the Christmas tree."

"I'm sorry, Tommy. Your father was drunk and penniless that Christmas. I knew that you wanted a bike, so I brought you one. A little boy shouldn't think his father let him down over Christmas. He wanted to be there with you. Did you like the bell?"

"Yeah."

"You rang that bell until it finally broke, but you'd outgrown that bike by then. You gave the bike to a younger boy down the street on Christmas. You even bought him a new bell. That was a kind thing for you to do."

"He needed it, and it was too small for me; the bell didn't cost much," he said. "He didn't have a father."

Santa asked, "Do you remember four years ago when you brought that pretty girl Cynthia home on Christmas Eve? She wore a Christmas sweater and skirt. She was leaving for college and thought you were a very good boy all night long."

"How do you know that? Do you make a habit of peeping into people's windows? The judge will not like that."

"You two were so cute that I wanted to stay and watch, but I had to make my rounds." Santa smiled at him. "Have you kept up with Cynthia? I can tell you where she lives now. She doesn't have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"You know where she lives?" Tommy asked with interest.

"I know where all the good boys and girls live."

He cleared his throat to sound serious and said, "Well, Ms. Clause, do you know how fast you were going?"

"Call me Santa, everyone does, and I have no idea how fast I was going."

"I don't either. My radar gun only goes up to 200 mph and you were going faster than that. The highest speed limit in Texas is eighty-five mph. Were you in some kind of race?"

"Well, a race against time."

"Street racing carries additional penalties."

"I wasn't on the street."

"Tell it to the judge."

"Put your hands against the vehicle and spread your legs. I need to frisk you." He gave her a very thorough frisking and since Santa was ticklish, she giggled the whole time. Nothing was under her outfit except a bra and those tiny green panties.

"My you're good at that Tommy. Did you find anything you liked?"

"I have to take you in."

Officer Tommy handcuffed her hands behind her back.

"Isn't there anything I can do to make you change your mind, Tommy? I'm very busy tonight," she said in a voice full of promise.

"No," Tommy said and pulled her arm towards his car but then Santa caught his eye. "Are you sure Tommy?" He stopped and looked deep into her blue eyes.

She nodded her head, and her coat popped open exposing the bra that held her glorious gifts. Her cups overfloweth. One cup was green and the other was red.

"You're cute Tommy and 'tis the season." Santa smiled mischievously.

As Tommy stared, her bra turned into sparkly dust. A whirlwind blew it away leaving her bare. It was a chilly night, and her snowy mounds were covered with goosebumps and topped with large gumdrops.

She nodded again and the belt that held Tommy's gun fell off.

"A good boy doesn't need a gun...or pants."

Another nod and his pants and boxers fell to the ground.

"Oh my, Tommy. You've grown since you were a little boy." She touched him gently. "And you're still growing." Tommy's shirt tail separated as he pointed north.

Tommy remembered that he'd cuffed her hands behind her but once she touched him, he didn't question anything else.

"No wonder Cynthia was so happy with you. You're no Tiny Tim. Here, let me warm that up for you," Santa said as she dropped to her knees and licked his candy cane before she put her lips around it to taste it all at once. Santa's tongue seemed to spin around his candy cane, touching it all over at the same time. She did things to him that he didn't think were humanly possible but didn't care. His eggnog took flight into Santa.

"Mmm, I needed something to wash down those cookies," Santa laughed.

Santa didn't have time to waste; it was Christmas Eve. She looked at Tommy and his north pole had overheated and was falling over. With a nod, Tommy's pole was once again straight and hard. Santa leaned with her hands on the sleigh, stepped back, and nodded again. Her coat, skirt, and panties sparkled away leaving only her stockings and boots.

Tommy couldn't believe his eyes. She spread her stockinged, booted legs and said, "You'd better frisk me again. I liked that and I know you'll be thorough like a good boy and make absolutely sure I'm not concealing anything."

Tommy plunged his pole into her chimney and searched it repeatedly. He patted down her snowy white peaks with his hands. The rest of Tommy's clothes melted away as Santa moaned, "Ho, Ho, Ho!", and he continued frisking her vigorously. He should have been cold, but the snow was warm and vanished as it touched his skin.

Santa urged him on. "Bring joy to my world Tommy."

That festive invitation warmed his chestnuts and made him jolly. He filled her once more with his Christmas cheer. Santa nodded again and Tommy was magically restored. Santa turned around, leaned on a well-worn part of the sleigh, and wrapped a boot around Tommy's waist. Joyful sounds of Christmas delight rang through the countryside as they made the sleigh shake and squeak. Her gumdrop-topped mountains bounced wildly on her chest making Tommy's spirits bright.

A tiny person in a green suit popped his head out of one of the bags and said, "She can do this all night. You're a lucky little boy." The little guy stayed around and watched.

Tommy was surprised but didn't care. He was too busy giving Santa his Christmas spirit to make her yuletide bright. Soon his joy burst forth and filled her again.

Santa climbed into the sleigh and lay on the seat. She spread her knees and raised her high-heeled boots. "Taste my tiniest treat, Tommy." His head dropped between her stockings, and he found her little sugar plum. It tasted like peppermint and cinnamon and he feasted on it with delight. She cried out, "Hallelujah", in a voice that sounded somehow not quite human.

With a nod of her head, Tommy's Yule log magically stiffened once more. He stood between her legs and gave Santa all the joy he felt in his heart, over and over.

"Yes, Tommy! Treat me like you did pretty little Cynthia in the Christmas skirt."

Her stockings and boots were over his shoulders and Tommy squeezed and twisted her gumdrops. Her songs of joy filled the night air again as Tommy filled her with Christmas delight.

She pulled him into the sleigh and put him on the seat. With another nod of her head, Tommy was reborn. With her knees around him, she lowered herself and Tommy slid down Candy Cane Lane. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her mouth tasted like apples and her miraculous tongue did more than was possible with two tongues.

Tommy felt he had grown three sizes that day. He slid deeper and deeper, never seeming to stop. She bounced up and down on him as Tommy savored her two big gumdrops, wanting them to last a long time. One tasted like cherries and the other like oranges. Santa smiled at the elf watching the action.

The reindeer pawed at the ground, snorting.

"Just give me a minute," she shouted breathlessly to them. "I'm almost done." They gave her a derisive snort. She'd stopped for glad tidings way too often tonight and they were late. There was a schedule that had to meet, and they hated waiting on her. If they weren't in their harnesses, it would be different. Vixen looked particularly fetching tonight.

"Oh yes, Tommy. Stuff my turkey. Her back arched and she sang soprano with the heavenly choir echoing in the night. She pushed and pulled on Tommy until he joined the choir as a tenor with that same animalistic tone. His creamy filling seemed to last forever.

She slipped off Tommy's pole as he shrank and kissed him again. "Gotta go. That was fun," she cheerfully said.

Santa helped Tommy get in his car. He was in a daze. His clothes were back on him, as were Santa's.

"You probably shouldn't tell anyone about this, or they'll think you're crazy. If I have time, I'll drop by your house later tonight. I have another gift for you that you'll really like. If not, I'll see you next year. Sleep now, Tommy."

Tommy's eyes closed.

Santa got in the sleigh, held the reigns, and yelled, "Let's go guys." She flew off refreshed.

+++++

Tommy woke up several hours later feeling sore below his belt. He realized he'd fallen asleep and had a dream; it felt so real.

As he woke up more, he felt something in his shirt pocket. It was full of cookies. Reaching for his coffee he found a cold glass of eggnog with a splash of something extra. He saw his gun on the seat of his car. Reaching for his holster, he found a Wild West cap gun full of caps that he wanted but never got as a kid.

While eating the cookies and drinking his eggnog he thought about his dream. She had said something about coming to his house if she had time. Tommy knew it was a dream but called the station and told them he was sick.

+++++

At home, he went into the bathroom to see why he hurt down there. When he dropped his pants and the green and red boxers he'd never seen before, he saw a red bow tied around his twig and berries. He untied that but it still looked red all over. When he looked more closely, it was only red in a spiral pattern, like a candy cane. He was very sore, but he also looked...bigger.

There was writing on it in green Sharpie. It said, "Merry Christmas." He thought about his dream, Santa's magical powers, and her big gumdrops. The memories excited him, and he looked down again. It didn't say "Merry Christmas," it said, "Merry Christmas, and thanks Tommy."

Tommy grinned. He swore he'd be home every Christmas Eve for the rest of his life. He'd stay up waiting for Santa to return.

But it had been a long night, and he fell asleep, and dreamt about Cynthia.

+++++

A knock on the door woke him and he groggily wondered why Santa would knock. He opened the door and saw Cynthia in that same Christmas sweater and skirt she'd been in, and out of, four years ago.

The sun was just coming up.

"Merry Christmas, Cynthia!" he exclaimed and hugged her tightly.

"Hi Tommy, it's been a while," she said surprised to see him. "I came over because I found a strange envelope in my Christmas stocking this morning. Even stranger, I didn't put a stocking out last night. On the front, it asked me to deliver it to this address this morning. It was urgent and it was signed Santa. You've moved since the last time I saw you. I had no idea you lived here now but I guess this is for you." She handed him the envelope.

"Yeah, I moved here last year. Please come in and get warm," Tommy said. "I'm so glad to see you."

Tommy opened the note and read it.

It said:

Dear Tommy,

I had fun tonight and I hope you like your second gift. I'll see you next year-unless Cynthia objects. Please give her my love and sincere thanks for delivering this note to you. Don't forget to give her the Christmas present from you. It's under the tree.

Love,

Santa.

Tommy handed Cynthia the note. She read it and asked, "What does that mean Tommy? Who's the note from?"

"It means I'm glad you're here this morning and I've missed you. The note is from Santa." She looked at him like he was crazy.

He noticed a small, decorated Christmas tree on a table that wasn't there when he came home last night.

Under it, there was a small box with "Cynthia" written on it in green Sharpie. He handed it to Cynthia and said, "Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, but I don't have a gift for you."

"Having you here today is gift enough." Cynthia blushed.

Tommy said, "I thought about you tonight. I've missed you since you've been away at college. The last time I saw you was on Christmas Eve."

Cynthia looked down, thought about that night, and said, "You're right, it was." She acted like she didn't remember that night vividly. "That was Christmas before I left for college. You still lived with your parents back then and we had to keep quiet. I've graduated now and moved back to town. I've missed you too."

"You look cold. Would you like some hot chocolate? We can catch up."

"Sure. That would be wonderful."

He made them cups of hot chocolate and put out a plate of cookies that Santa left him. She left a huge bag of cookies.

"Can I open my present?" Cynthia asked excitedly.

"Sure." Tommy had no idea what she would find.

Cynthia opened the box and there was a simple gold chain necklace with a gold Christmas tree hanging from it. It matched her earrings.

She said, "Thank you, Tommy. I love it. Here, help me put it on."

Tommy got behind her, draped it around her neck, and clasped the ends together.

Cynthia turned around and hugged him longer than a friend would. Her body was soft and warm in his arms and her hair smelled like cherries and nutmeg. She looked him in the eyes and kissed him. Her kiss was much more like Santa's kiss than a kiss from a friend.

"It's to go with that outfit."

"Wait...how did you know I'd be here today wearing this outfit?"

"Santa told me."

"No, he didn't," she scoffed.

"She. Santa's a woman, not a man and she did tell me in her own way."

She looked skeptically at him.

"You don't believe me? Who put the note in your stocking this morning?" he asked.

"I...I don't know."

"You know that outfit made quite an impression on me four years ago." Cynthia blushed again remembering that night.

"As I recall, it wasn't on me very long." She couldn't believe she'd said that to him.

"No, no it wasn't, and when it was off you made a bigger impression on me." Tommy smiled. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"I'd love some. I'll even help cook."

"I may not have much to eat in the refrigerator."

Tommy opened the door, and it was packed with food. "Looks like plenty to me," she said.

They fixed scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee. Over breakfast, they talked and laughed about their lives over the past four years. They met in their senior year in high school and dated until she had to leave for college after that Christmas. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other, but it seemed like no time had passed.