AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This is an entry in the WINTER HOLIDAY STORY CONTEST 2023, so I'd really appreciate it if you could take the time to vote. This story features my recurring character Matt (a muscular, well-hung, sex addicted Aussie male exhibitionist in his twenties) engaging in some bizarre, fetishised Christmas-themed sexual activity with the festive season-obsessed Christabel "Chrissie" Angel. This story features CFNM, stripping, female-of-male body worship, (mild) femdom, (very mild) restraint, humiliation, pegging, fetishised Christmas-themed sexual role play, face-sitting, fellatio, cunnilingus, group sex, and female dwarves. This is a work of complete fiction. All characters are over eighteen. I am endeavouring to write a CFNM "Oz Beach Boy" story in every Literotica category. This entry: "Fetish".
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It was Christmas time in Sydney, Australia. I was completely naked with my hands bound above my head. My long, thick, ropey cock was graphically painted in red and white stripes. One of my big, heavy balls was painted red, and the other was painted green. Mrs. Claus and her two female elves looked at me admiringly, almost licking their lips. How the hell did I get here?
Though not officially diagnosed, I'm a raging sex addict. I'm a narcissistic, incredibly well-hung Aussie male exhibitionist in my twenties who loves getting nude, preferably with women watching me. I spend hours training to get my body as ripped and muscular as I can, principally to attract as much female attention as possible. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy's Exhibitionism Essay"]
I like to show off and put myself in potentially sexy situations whenever I can, particularly around Sydney's many beaches and secluded coastal bays. I also frequently stroll around at night on busy weekends looking for action wherever I can find it. I am constantly horny, and I've enjoyed a lot of kinky hook-ups in my time.
My Christmas-painted cock and balls started with Christabel "Chrissie" Angel. I met the Christmas-loving and strikingly named beauty the previous Christmas when she rescued me from a horde of Dutch women that wanted to strip me naked on Bondi Beach. Chrissie then pressed me into posing for her in a nude, private, Christmas-themed photo shoot. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy's Very Own Xmas Angel"]
This Christmas, one year later, Chrissie Angel released those photos publicly, and, as she'd promised when she took them, actually turned me into an anonymous Christmas superstar. Disguised in a Santa hat, Santa beard, and aviator sunglasses, my nude photos made me the meme of the season as The Sexiest Santa Ever, and led to a truly bizarre series of experiences. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Vs Mariah Xmas Carey"]
Though she'd made me famous, I hadn't seen Chrissie Angel since Christmas the previous year...but now she was back...in all her sexy, strange, Christmas-loving glory. Dressed in my Santa hat, Santa beard, and aviator sunglasses, along with a Christmas t-shirt and shorts, I'd just left radio station KIIS FM, where I'd completed an interview (and much, much more) as The Sexiest Santa Ever. Christabel "Chrissie" Angel was waiting for me outside.
With a cigarette hanging out of the side of her mouth, and leaning coolly against the hood of her bright red-and-green pin-striped 1970 Monaro HG GTS 350, the tall, lean, incredibly beautiful Chrissie Angel gave me a sly, knowing smile that was as sexy as it was unsettling. She was a vision of pouting, sexy Christmas cool.
Chrissie's jet-black hair was cut into Suzi Quatro-style bangs, and she was wearing reflective aviator sunglasses, just like my own. Likely in her early thirties and dressed incongruously for summer in bootleg denim jeans with a big, silver buckle, and scuffed brown cowboy boots, Chrissie Angel oozed confidence, charisma and rock star cool.
Chrissie had mid-sized breasts and was wearing a tight-fitting black t-shirt emblazoned with a photo of a shirtless, muscled, mean-looking Santa Claus with tattoos and a nose ring flipping off the camera. Under the photo in a ragged, punk-style font was the hilarious message "You don't like Christmas? Fuck you!"
With AC/DC's hilarious Christmas song "Mistress For Christmas" blasting out of Chrissie's Christmas-coloured Monaro, the beautiful brunette pointed her finger at me like a gun and winked suggestively.
"You need a ride, Santa?" Chrissie asked in her husky and very sexy voice.
"No, I drove here," I replied. "I've got my car."
"Well, get in anyway, Santa," Chrissie Angel said with a very, very wicked smile. "You can come and pick up your car later. Your Christmas is about to get even wilder, sweet thing."
"Oh, my god," I muttered under my breath. "Oh, my god..."
Chrissie opened the passenger door of the Monaro for me, and then casually, coolly walked around the car, looking at me the whole time. Chrissie smiled and then slid into the driver's seat. I walked down the steps from KIIS FM, and practically staggered in shock toward the Monaro with Brian Johnson's powerful voice filling my ears.
Though I'm in my twenties, I know so much about cars and vintage rock music thanks to Hank Lowensohn, one of my best foster carers, and a man obsessed equally with classic cars, classic rock, and his classically beautiful wife Stacy. He taught me everything I know about cars and rock music...but I learned about women on my own.
"Well, I made you a star just like I promised, didn't I?" Chrissie asked with a smile, lowering her aviators to reveal her incredible, slate-green eyes. "You even met Mariah Carey, huh? Tell me all about it, Santa."
Chrissie Angel gunned the engine, and then backed out smoothly from her parking space. With AC/DC still blaring, we hit the road. I noticed with a smile that the pair of "Santa's Sack" underpants that Chrissie had taken from me the previous Christmas were still hanging hilariously from her rearview mirror.
I laughingly took Chrissie Angel through all of my ridiculous experiences as The Sexiest Santa Ever, and she chortled through it all, obviously very happy with the madness she'd very intentionally and very happily placed me in the middle of. Once I was done, Chrissie Angel gave me another sexy, knowing smile.
"Well, you're coming back to my place, Santa," Chrissie said. "And we're gonna get festive, baby. It's time for us to have some fun, Santa...fun of my devising."
As Christmas songs by Darlene Love, Tom Petty, U2, Bon Jovi, Cheap Trick, Elvis Presley and many more blasted out of the Monaro's sound system, Chrissie drove her Christmas-mobile carefully but quickly through Sydney's suburban streets - away from the coast, and far, far away from where I lived - until we finally arrived at, yes, St. Nikolas Avenue. As I had the previous Christmas with Chrissie, I wondered if I was actually hallucinating all of this festive season weirdness.
We drove down the street, which was filled largely with modest, single-story houses, many of which were adorned with Christmas decorations. As we moved further down the street, in the near-distance I glimpsed what was obviously Chrissie's house. As we got closer and closer, my jaw dropped and my eyes popped.
"Welcome to Chrissie Angel's Xmas Wonderland," Chrissie said with a smile as she guided the Monaro into the house's driveway. "Um, did I tell you I love Christmas?"
"You certainly did, Chrissie...you certainly did," I replied.
Chrissie's small house and front garden were awash with Christmas decorations. There were lights strung everywhere, life-size Santa Claus and reindeer figurines, candy canes propped up in the grass, a huge Christmas tree, and an enormous snow-dome centrepiece with a whole Christmas tableau inside. There were decorations everywhere. It was one of the most extravagant Christmas displays I'd ever seen.
"It's incredible, Chrissie...amazing," I said. "You must have put a lot of work into this."