Steve's Best Christmas Gift Ever

Steve's worst Christmas gift ever was a Hallmark card from his girlfriend. Or, more accurately, from his ex-girlfriend because inside the card, just under the cheesy holiday sentiment, she had written "I am moving to L.A. with Dennis Finklestein. Goodbye."

He had the card with him, stuffed in his the pocket of his overcoat, when he was coming home from work that Christmas Eve. Steve had volunteered to work the last shift at the store -- as much to avoid his now empty apartment as to make brownie points with his boss. So it was fully dark as he shuffled down the sidewalk with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched against the cold wind.

Out of the corner of his eye Steve saw movement down a dark alleyway. He turned and saw two rough looking kids standing over someone on the ground. As he watched, one of them kicked out with a big, black boot. He heard a muffled "Ooof!" and started to make a quick getaway.

He hadn't taken two steps, however, before he turned back, shaking his head at his own foolishness. Back in the alley, the shape on the ground was trying to stand up. One of the kids shoved him back down. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Steve saw that the figure on the ground was wearing a big, red suit. With white fuzzy trim. And a long, white beard.

"Jesus Christ!" Steve exclaimed. "You guys are mugging Santa Clause on Christmas Eve?!"

The kids looked back at Steve dismissively. "Fuck off," one of them growled at him.

Steve looked around in desperation. He really should have planned this out better, the told himself. Finally, he spotted a two-by-four propped against a dumpster. He quickly grabbed it and cocked it over his shoulder like Mickey Mantle stepping to the plate. To Steve's great fortune, the old board had several crooked nails sticking out of it. "No," he said. "Y-Y-you fuck off."

"Come on, man," the first kid said to the second, "this ain't worth it." He picked up a big, red kettle and backed away. The second joined him and they ran off down the dark alley, their kettle of pocket change jingling all the way.

"Some people," the old man in the red suit stood up and started to brush himself off, "have no Christmas spirit."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes. I'll be fine," he answered. "Thanks to you. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it," Steve tossed his makeshift bat in the dumpster. Had he really just done that?

"So," the old guy winked at Steve. "What would you like for Christmas?"

"Hrm. Maybe a new girlfriend," Steve turned and hurried back the way he had come. He was starting to feel like he might throw-up. "Merry Christmas!"

He heard the old man yell something after him that sounded a lot like, "to all a good night" but he didn't turn back. Steve was home in a few minutes. He triple locked the door of his apartment and decided to move to a nicer neighborhood as soon as possible. He warmed up a Healthy Choice microwave meal, ate his dinner in front of the television, and then went to bed with one of his favorite novels. He fell asleep with the book on his chest.

It was still there the next morning when the sun streaming through his bedroom window roused him out of sleep. "Yippee," he mumbled to himself. "It's Christmas."

Steve got out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen in his boxer shorts. A quick rustling noise in the living room brought him back. The cat was climbing the Christmas tree again, he figured. But it wasn't the cat. When Steve poked his head out of the kitchen, he saw a woman under his tree.

He rubbed his eyes. Yes, she was definitely there. Right in front of the four foot Douglas fir that Steve had bought at the hardware store down the street for twenty five dollars. A full-grown, living and breathing woman lying on the floor in his living room. She was on her side, propped up on an elbow with the other arm draped casually over a raised knee. "I though you were never going to get up," she smiled.

"Uhhh," Steve stared open mouthed. "Who are you?"

"Who do you want me to be?" she folded her long legs under herself and stood with a single, graceful movement. She was wearing a pair of sheer, red stockings and sleek red shoes with impossibly tall heels. Her tiny, red satin panties were cut particularly short, clearly exposing a region of flesh Steve would have expected to be covered in hair. A two inch ribbon crossed each of her full, round breasts, ending in a huge bow at the center of her chest.

"No, seriously. Who are you? And how did you get in here?"

"Silly Steve," she smiled and tossed her long, blond hair over a shoulder. She moved across the room, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. "I'm your Christmas present."

"From who?"

"Who do you think?" she giggled and pointed to the ceiling. "Ho, ho, ho."

"But I don't believe in ... in Santa Clause."

"That's okay, Steve," she was close enough that Steve could smell her perfume -- it reminded Steve of vanilla. She was the one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen! Certainly the most beautiful who had ever been in his apartment. When she let her hand rest gently on his chest his heart seemed to stop. "He believes in you."

"So you're a ...?" Steve knew that there were many reasons he should not trust a beautiful women mysteriously appearing in his apartment. But he was having trouble thinking of them.

"A Christmas miracle," she nodded. She paused, biting her lip coyly. Then she leaned in so their faces nearly touched. Steve could feel her hot breath on his cheek. "Aren't you going to unwrap your present?"

"Okay," he said, reaching for the loose end of ribbon that she pointed to with one long, slender finger. He tugged at it and the bow unraveled. The ribbon fell away, revealing her perky breasts. "Magnificent," Steve gasped.

"Thanks," she leaned into him, lightly pressing her firm tits against his chest. She slowly glided down, drawing the smooth skin of her breasts along the front of Steve's body. He was so enthralled that he didn't notice her pulling off his boxer shorts until they were down around his ankles and his erection was thrust into her face.

"What are you doing?" he whimpered, even though it was obvious. She must have understood this, because she didn't explain what she was doing -- she just did it. With one hand firmly wrapped around the shaft, she put her mouth around the head of his penis. He drew in a sharp breath as he felt her tongue undulating against his throbbing member.

She pushed more of him into the warmth of her mouth and then pulled him out again, sealing her red lips tightly around his cock. With her eyes closed as if in deep concentration she began to bob her head back and forth, taking in more length with each thrust.

Then she pulled away. A stringer of spittle connected Steve's cock to her lips. She opened her eyes and looked up at him with a devilish smile. She returned to sucking on his cock, gazing up at him intently this time. Steve stared into her deep, blue eyes and soon began to feel his orgasm looming. At the last moment, she stopped.

"Take me to the bedroom," she stood. Steve was surprised to see that she had removed her tiny, red panties at some point. Her pubic region was entirely free of hair. He could clearly see the puffy lips of her pussy nearly filling the gap at the top of her thighs.

"Right back here," he pointed behind him while hopping on one foot trying to pull off his shorts. He managed not to fall and quickly followed her down the short hallway. Her heels clicked sharply on the battered wood floor, punctuating each oscillation of her bare ass.

Once in the bedroom, she scanned the room quickly and then turned to Steve. She wrapped her lean, toned arms around his neck and kissed him right on the lips. Her mouth opened slightly, allowing his tongue to explore. Steve was unable to resist allowing both hands to fall onto the fantastic backside he had followed down the hall. His hands caressed her smooth skin from the small of her back, over the swell of her buttocks, and down to the lacy tops of her stockings. He stroked and squeezed her taut flesh -- it felt amazing. She was firm and toned but somehow soft at the same time.

"You like my ass, huh?" she asked when Steve paused to catch his breath.

"Oh, yes," he answered eagerly. "It's absolutely perfect!"

"Well, then," she turned her back to him, "how about a little doggy style?"

"I don't ... I mean ... I've never ... uhhh ... done that."

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow in surprise and climbed onto the bed. Her knees were planted wide apart with those stiletto heels hanging over the edge. "You're really in for a treat then."

She bent over at the waist and presented her ass to Steve. One arm reached back and stroked her pussy lips. "Just put your dick right here."

Steve walked up behind her. He was starting to wonder if this was really happening. Could it be a dream? It all seemed too good to be true. He took his stiff manhood in his hand and slipped it into her. He was still glistening with her saliva and she was nearly dripping wet. It slid in easily. With a slight push of his hips he was buried in her all the way.

It felt incredible! No woman he had ever been with could compare with her. Her body welcomed him eagerly but held him tightly. He slowly pulled out. Again he gently stroked his cock in and out of her pussy while delicately caressing her soft skin.

"Hey," she looked back over her shoulder. "Don't hold back. Give it to me."

"What?"

"Don't worry -- you aren't going to break me," she smiled. "Just let loose, okay? Grab a hold of me and enjoy yourself."

Steve shrugged and decided to try his best. He grabbed her just behind her narrow waist and pulled her back onto his cock. Their bodies collided with a slap.

"Ooooo!" she squealed. Encouraged by her squeals of pleasure, Steve pulled himself back and thrust into her again. And again. And again. She arched her back and pushed back faster and faster. He tried to match her rhythm and soon he was pumping his cock into her pussy like a piston. "Oh, yeah! Fuck me, Steve!" she moaned.

"Okay!"

"Yeah, baby! Stand up -- Mmmmm! -- a little taller and -- Arggggh! -- push your cock down -- Fuck! -- down into me more," she instructed. Steve immediately did as he was told. She screamed. Steve didn't understand a single word but took it to be a good sign.

He had never felt so wild and free. He had a vague concern that the neighbors would hear her increasingly vocal enjoyment but that passed quickly. Let them hear, he decided. He was fucking the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen and didn't care who knew it. "I'm going to cum!" he yelled.

"Do it," she panted. He quickened the pace of his thrusting. He exploded. He held her tightly to his body as his cock spasmed deep inside her pussy. Then his whole body released. He thought he might pass out on the floor. "Just. Stay. Right. There." she told him. She reached an arm back to finger herself.

She swayed back and forth slightly. Steve felt a shiver go up his spine as she pumped his extra sensitive cock. In a matter of seconds she gave a tiny squeal and her tightly coiled muscles went limp. He could feel the tight walls of her pussy spasm against his softening member. She collapsed on the bed and he flopped down next to her. She crept up to him and he put an arm around her and drew her up to his side. They were both breathing heavily.

"Wow," Steve breathed. As his lust began to ebb along with his erection, his mind started working again. Who was this girl? Was she some kind of con artist, murderous psychopath, or door-to-door salesperson? Or was it possible that she really was one of Santa's Little Helpers? No explanation entirely made sense.

"Yep," she threw a long, shapely leg over him and rested her head on his chest. Steve looked into her deep, blue eyes again. She was so beautiful! Just enjoy it while it lasts, he told himself. But that was the real question -- how long could this last?

"How long can you stay?" he finally asked.

"How long do you want me to stay?" she asked playfully.

Forever, he wanted to say. That, however, would sound a little desperate. He settled on telling her, "I'm not planning on asking you to leave anytime soon."

"You're sweet," she sighed. "But this is my busiest time of year. I can't stay long."

"Where will you go when you leave?"

"That's ... confidential," she smiled. "What do you have planned for today?"

"Nothing really," he shrugged. He wanted to make it clear that he was available, but didn't want to seem like a total looser. "I have the whole day off, so I was just going to hang out here. Maybe watch some movies. I love old Christmas movies -- this is the only time of year I get to watch them."

"Me too! They're so sweet and silly. That sounds really great. So where do you work?"

"The shoe department at Macy's," he answered.

"Oh, shoes!" she exclaimed. "Fantastic. Is that what you want to do, like, forever?"

"Actually," he replied, "I think I can get to be a shift manager in a few years. But what I'd really like is to have my own store."

"A shoe store?"

"Maybe," he answered. "I'm not really an expert on fashion. I just like tracking the inventory and setting up the little displays. I also love helping people find what they need."

"That's really nice," she said in a sincere voice. "You know, I bet you'll have that store someday. I'll come shop there. And let me tell you, I LOVE buying shoes. I'll keep you in business all by myself."

"Thanks," he chuckled. "I bet you would. That pair you have on must have cost a small fortune."

"These?" she stretched one long leg straight out and drew it up almost to Steve's face. She was remarkably flexible. Steve got the impression that what he had seen so far was only a small part of what she was capable of. "These were a gift actually. I love them, though."

"They are pretty nice," he admitted. "Hey, would you like some breakfast? I've got cinnamon rolls."

"Well," she furtively peeked at the clock on the nightstand, "okay. Let me use your bathroom and I'll be right there."

He showed her to the bathroom and then scrambled to the apartment's tiny kitchen. He was relieved to find two clean plates in the cupboard. He put a gooey, sticky roll on each plate and stuck them in the microwave to warm up. Then he rushed to his tiny table. He swept a pile of old newspapers into the trash and brushed some old crumbs off the table. There was a bottle of orange juice and a jug of milk in the refrigerator, so he grabbed both, checked the expiration dates, and put them on the table. He found a clean cup in the cupboard and a mostly clean one in the sink -- he would use that one himself. Finally the table was set.

"Mmmm. Smells good," she padded into the room. Steve had pulled on his boxer shorts and found a baggy T-shirt. She, however, was wearing nothing at all. She had even pulled off the red stockings and stiletto heels. Well, Steve thought, if he looked that good naked he wouldn't want to wear clothes either.

"These are great," he pulled out a cheap, vinyl chair for her. "The bakery across the street has the best rolls." He sat across the table from her and watched as she delicately tore off pieces of sticky roll. When she stopped to lick a dollop of gooey frosting from her finger he finally realized he was staring and quickly turned to his own breakfast.

"Having a good Christmas so far?" she teased.

"Oh yes. That doggy style was the best. I can't wait to -- you know -- try that out again."

"Mmm, yeah. That was good for me too," she said. "I haven't gotten off like that in a long time."

"Awww," Steve guessed that she was just saying that to stroke his ego but he couldn't suppress a big, embarrassed grin.

"You know," she told him in a stage whisper, "you're especially cute when you do that."

"Thanks." Steve's grin got even wider and he felt blood rushing to his face. He was probably blushing. Realizing that made him even more embarrassed.

"I'm glad we got to do that. You need to take a girl from behind at least once," she pored a glass of juice. "There are some things a person needs to experience in life, I think. Like a threesome or seeing the Grand Canyon. Or anal sex. Have you ever fucked a girl up the butt?"

Steve had a mouthful of cinnamon roll and just shook his head.

"Oh, you should try it," she told him casually, as though she were recommending a new restaurant or a popular movie. "I think you'd like it."

"Maybe on my next trip to the Grand Canyon," he swallowed his roll. She giggled and Steve felt very pleased with himself. They finished eating and Steve shooed her out of the kitchen. He stayed behind to clean up the dishes -- or at least drop them in the sink -- and then followed close behind.

"Wow," he said from the doorway of he bedroom. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed. Steve's big tabby cat was curled up on her lap. She was petting it behind the ears and it was purring like a BMW. "He likes you! He doesn't usually like anybody."

"I have a way with men," she winked.

"I knew that," he replied. "I just didn't know it worked on cats, too."

She smiled brightly. Then she scrunched up her mouth and made a thoughtful face. She picked up the cat and held him nose-to-nose. "Time for you to go, kitty," she told the cat in a cutesy voice. "Your daddy is going to fuck me up the ass now. Yes he is. Yes he is."

"I am?"

"Yep," she got up from the bed and gave Steve a peck on the cheek. "Get undressed and lie down on the bed. I'll be right back."

Steve wasn't entirely certain that this was something he wanted to do. He had never even thought about it before. But arguing with the stunning blond was not an option Steve was seriously considering. He pulled off his t-shirt and shorts and lie down on the bed. His cock was hardening in anticipation.

She came back in the room carrying a small tub of margarine from the kitchen. She sat on the bed next to him and lightly stroked his thighs, his stomach, and finally his cock which was now fully erect.

"Now," she began in a professorial tone, "when you do this in the future you'll want to get a nice, water-based lube. That's what I would normally use, but this is a spur-of-the-moment thing so..." She dipped a finger into the tub and came out with a small glob of the yellowish spread. With her finger tips, she smeared the thick, slippery substance all over his hard rod.

"Ohhhh," he moaned. Steve didn't know about anal sex, but having a sexy woman butter his cock felt very nice.

"Mmmm fattening," she licked the margarine from her finger tips and climbed onto her knees. She straddled Steve as he lie on his back. With one free hand she lightly grasped his cock and lowered herself toward it. "We're going to start slow here, okay? Nice and easy."

Steve nodded. The head of his penis had just slid between her cheeks. He felt resistance. She pushed down a bit harder and he felt her sphincter suddenly open and admit the tip of his cock. She took a deep breath and allowed a bit more of him into her ass. It was so tight! His cock was squeezed as it had never been before.

"That is so hot," Steve said. He lay back and stared in amazement as his manhood slowly disappeared into her tight asshole. Soon his entire length was inside of her and she was sitting on his thighs. She tossed her golden blond hair and looked at Steve with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"We're just getting started," she told him. She leaned back, putting her hands at his knees to support herself. With a straining of taut abs and toned thighs she pushed herself up again. The shaft of Steve's cock slowly emerged. When just the tip remained inside of her, she lowered herself again. Steve didn't know where to look: at her toned muscles flexing to pump her body up and down his shaft, at her sphincter tightly gripping him, at her heaving breasts, or at the look of concentration and pleasure on her pretty face.