Santas Little Elf

Surveying his workshop, Santa frowned. It wasn't like him to be in a bad mood, but work was progressing slowly this year, and the number of good little boys and girls seemed to be at a record high this year. He was worried that they wouldn't finish all the toys by Christmas Eve. Now it looked like a pair of elves had taken an unscheduled break. A pair of hammers lay unused next to a partially-assembled rocking horse, and the door to one of the back rooms was slightly ajar. Santa pushed it open and peered inside.

It was Petra and Ulli. Petra was leaning against a workbench bent over at the waist, her ripe tits dangling beneath her, swaying slightly back and forth as she moved. She was naked, and he could see the smooth curve of her flawless skin flowing from her ample white breasts past a flat tummy, over a ripe pair of buttocks, down a slim yet muscular flank, past the delicate calf to her dainty little foot, of which only the toes remained on the ground with each of Ulli's thrusts. The jiggling buttocks which had caught his eye a moment earlier were currently spread wide to accommodate the thrusting of Ulli's urgently stiff cock, and seemed to grasp and suck at it as it plunged between the two bubbly pillows. Ulli would pull out slowly, tease around the moist puckered opening for a moment until a mew of longing escaped Petra's lips, then plunge back inside to bury himself within her moist depths with a shared groan of passion. Petra rolled her head back, eyes closed, luxuriating in the delicious sensations caused by Ulli's shaft straining upwards within her. The motion caused her delicious bobbing elf-breasts to thrust forwards, piping nipples standing at attention and begging to be tweaked. A moment later a particularly forceful thrust from Ulli sent her forward, her breast mashing against the flat surface of the workbench and bulging elastically outwards. A giggle escaped from her throat and she tossed her curly red hair to look back at her lover. "Oh, Ulli..."

Ulli grasped his lover by the hip with one hand, and with the other reached down to capture one pert soft breast in his cupped fingers, giving the aching nipple a little tug as he did so. Petra arched her body upwards, Ulli's hand still on her tit, and with a thrust and tilt of his pelvis she was up, suspended on his birch-hard cock, writhing and twisting in passion, her slim waist and generous breasts on display in the cool air of the studio as her cunt spasmed around his impaling cock. Her lips found his and they kissed passionately, Ulli pawing and mauling at her breasts as she continued to ride his pole with utter abandon. Ulli staggered backward to a half-finished rocking chair and sat down in it, his hungry cock standing at attention like the fount of creation. Petra refitted her soft open pussy onto it, and slid down wetly, eyes closed, red curls shaking, breasts jiggling as she bottomed out and started teasingly upwards again. Soon she was sliding her little elf-snatch up and down with abandon, eyes still closed, chest thrust out achingly, her smug tits beaming upwards, topped by two little cherry-red nipples.

Santa cleared his throat, and the two young elves turned their heads to look. When they saw who was watching them, they froze for a moment, then Petra burst out, "Oh Santa! You always stop us just when we're starting to have some fun!" She grinned poutingly, but Ulli at least had the grace to look shamefaced as she pulled off his cock with a little pop, primping at her coppery curls with one hand.

"You two look like you've more than just started. Now, you know how much work we have to do before Christmas this year. All the good girls and boys are waiting for their presents. Get your clothes on and get back in that workshop so they won't be disappointed."

Ulli mumbled assent as he fumbled with his pile of velvet fur-trimmed clothes. Petra also began to dress, but Santa could have sworn that she wiggled her tempting little ass at him as she bent over her discarded robe. Her pussy was opened up like a little flower, its pink petals on display for him and glistening with moisture. Before he could tear his eyes away, a drop of wetness ran down one of her sculpted thighs, leaving a sparkling trail as it went. Santa shook his head and went out through the rear door, stepping abruptly into the crisp polar air.

He needed to clear his head. The pressures of the holiday season were getting to everyone, it seemed. Petra and Ulli weren't the first pair of elves he had caught playing "hide the pole". In fact, come to think of it, he thought he had seen Petra giving head to Olfar in the reindeer stables last week -- at least, it had certainly looked like her set of red-bronze curls that had been bobbing up and down on Olfar's prong, as his hands fumbled within the unlaced top of her robe, squeezing and kneading her joyous tits as her talented mouth did its work. He had almost said something then, but a moment later Olfar's muscles tensed and his prick began pumping ropes of semen into her still sucking mouth. Then she was lacing up his velvet breeches, and he was reluctantly stuffing her ripe tits back into her robe, and with a few words Santa didn't catch they headed off in opposite directions.

To make matters worse, he wasn't getting anything from Mrs. Claus lately. She has made it known that she was fed up with the late schedule he was keeping in order to get all the work done before the holiday, and most nights when he came home it was to a cold dinner and a pillow on the couch downstairs. He recalled the days when they had been first married. She had been a buxom wench of an elf, and could suck the color out of a candy cane. He had loved to titty-fuck her in their sleigh-bed, her pointy red tongue reaching down to lick the tip of his cock on the upstroke, its head disappearing into her pillowy mounds on the down. Those were the days... Perhaps when the Christmas season was over he would try to recapture some of that old flame. Maybe that would work.

Santa shook his head. Here he was, behind on his work schedule, and he was daydreaming.

Time to get back to the workshop

. He tried giving a jolly "Ho ho ho!" to make everything right again, but somehow his heart wasn't in it and it didn't come out sounding the way it usually did.

When he re-entered the workshop, Santa noted with approval that Petra and Ulli were back at work, completing the assembly of the rocking horse. But the hem of Petra's robe seemed unusually high, because it rode up whenever she bent down to work on the rockers. He couldn't quite tell if she was wearing anything under it, and he couldn't stop recalling how inviting her ass and flowering pussy had looked in the back room. If it rode up just a little bit farther, he might be able to see it again... Santa jumped as her luscious ass wiggled, just as it had back in the storeroom, and he realized that he had been staring, and that now her sparkling green eyes were looking right back at him. She giggled, but didn't say anything as she bent back over her work, hitching her robe up another fraction of an inch as she did so. Santa tore his gaze away.

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Toward the end of the shift, he saw Petra and Ulli exchanging significant, smoldering glances. Petra's glistening red lips formed into a pouting O shape, and her pointed pink tongue ran lightly around its edge, flicking out momentarily and then retreating back into the moist depths. Her eyes swiveled toward Santa a moment later and winked, and Santa felt himself blushing almost as red as his robe. Fortunately, his bushy white beard hid his embarassment from the elves. Before he could react, the steam-whistle blew announcing the end of the shift, and the elves began to troop out of the workshop. With a saucy toss of her flaming curls, Petra took Ulli by the hand and led him towards the exit. She paused as they passed the spot where Santa stood, stretched up on tiptoe, and kissed him on the cheek. Her full breasts bursting beneath the robe flattened hungrily against his chest as she did so, and Santa felt his pole begin to stiffen below his belt.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Santa. I know you're just trying to do your best for the children," she cooed, her minty breath fresh upon his face, as her sparkling green eyes stared into his from mere inches away. Then with a little giggle, she flicked out her tongue to trace the tip of his earlobe momentarily, and was suddenly dancing away, grasping Ulli by the hand again, and heading out the door. Santa was left speechless, smelling the lingering scent of her lithe warm body, seeing her figure silhouetted in the doorway, full breasts proud and high on her chest, red hair falling to her waist, long legs slender and irresistible. The Ulli was scooping her up with both hands, she was flinging her arms around his neck, and they were gone. Santa could well imagine how they would spend the night, wildly fucking, perhaps with Olfar joining in for good measure. He sighed, and turned to survey the state of his shop.

They were not doing too badly. A lot had been accomplished, despite the elves' tendency to sneak off together from time to time. With a little luck, they might be back on schedule by next week. Here was a doll's cradle that wanted finishing, and there was a wooden toy soldier half assembled. If he stayed, he might finish them tonight. For a moment, he thought of Mrs. Claus. He ought to go home to her right now, he supposed. He would pick her up, carry her up the stairs, throw her on the sleigh bed and fuck her senseless, lick her hairy dripping snatch until she squirmed and begged him to stuff her with his big hungry cock...

Santa sighed, picked up a hammer, and began attaching the headboard to the doll's cradle. He simply had to finish these toys by Christmas Eve. The children of the world were depending on him.

* * * * *

The candle on the workbench had burned low by the time Santa was finished with all the toys. He just had one more to put together, a red-painted sled with wooden runners. As he held a runner up to the light, eyeing its curve, a slight noise made him turn his head. There, by the door was one of the young elves -- Timma, he thought her name was.

"Master Claus? Why are you working so late? Everybody else is in bed now."

In bed, but not necessarily asleep

, Santa thought. "You're not in bed, little one. I'm finishing the day's toys. Why are you still awake?"

"I couldn't sleep." She came towards him where he sat at the workbench. Santa saw that she was not so young as he had first supposed. Her slim hips had a pleasing curve to them, and atop her chest sat two happy little breasts, perfectly in proportion with her delicate torso and slender legs. For an instant Santa thought he detected the points of her stiffened nipples pricking out through the red velvet robe she wore, and he imagined that they were high and proud. Other than the robe, she was dressed only in a pointy fur cap and fur-line slippers -- her young legs were bare and graceful, emerging beneath the hem of the robe in a tapering line that led downwards from her flaring maidenly hips. Santa blinked and looked up at her face, taking in the blue, doe-like eyes that stared trustingly into his own, the dainty chin and button nose, pointed ears matching the pointy velvet cap, out of which cascaded rich tresses of straight blond hair that seemed like rivers of brushed gold falling down onto her shoulders. Her gaze was innocent as she asked, "Master Claus, can you help me?"

"Why certainly, Timma... tell me what's wrong."

With astonishing grace, Timma drew close to him, then settled herself into his lap as he sat there on the workbench. All the young elves were used to sitting on his lap when they were little, as he would tell them stories through the long polar winter. Now as she faced him, her eyes staring soulfully into his, her sweet breath stirring the whiskers of his beard, Santa found that he had to struggle hard to remind himself what she had asked. Sitting as she was, her robe had gaped open, and Santa could see the slopes of her pert young breasts swelling in the shadows of the garment. His cock gave a little leap under her, and he shifted uncomfortably so that she wouldn't feel it pressing up against her soft thighs.

"I don't think the other elves like me." Her clear blue eyes clouded with tears as she said this, and her pink lips quivered slightly. "We all used to play together, but now Pekka and Tyko only want to spend time with Nummi. They're always sneaking off with her and leaving me alone. And I don't think Nummi likes me either. Once I saw Pekka in the reindeer stable. He was in Dancer's stall, and I went up to talk to him, but he wasn't really paying any attention to me. Then I looked down, and saw Nummi hiding below the wall of the stall. She was on her knees, and had her head pressed against Pekka's tummy, and she wouldn't even talk to me! All she did was kind of grunt at me without looking, and Pekka told me to go away." Timma was crying softly now as she said this, her soft bosom heaving up and down, and her sobbing caused her sweet bottom to rub back and forth on Santa's thigh. Her robe had ridden up, and Santa realized with a burst of arousal that her bare pussy was rubbing on his velvet breeches. His penis stiffened to attention, and when the sobbing Timma threw her arms around him, mashing her young elf-breasts against his chest, she caught his hardened cock between the outside of her limber thigh and his own belly. Each wracking sob caused an exquisite friction on his penis, and just when he thought he might burst and coat both of them with his creamy spunk, she leaned back and stared into his eyes with innocent apology.

"I'm sorry Master Claus. I know you have better things to do than listen to a silly little elf-girl. I'll go back to bed now." And with this she climbed off his lap, her long coltish limbs unfolding gracefully. But during her crying fit, one edge of her robe had gotten caught in Santa's great metal belt buckle, so that when she stood up it opened up, revealing pert little breasts topped with raspberry nipples, a trim white stomach with a tiny little belly button, and the smallest little triangle of downy golden fur covering her tiny little pussy. With a squeal of embarrassment she clutched at the robe, but it was stuck fast and one of her legs caught also, so that she sprawled awkwardly onto the workshop floor, the robe coming off entirely, her delicate legs splayed wide and revealing fully the pouting lips of her nether portal. Hastily Santa rose to cover her with the robe, at the same instant as she scrambled to her hands and knees and began to stand up, so that in an instant her full bottom collided with Santa's waist, and his still-erect cock slipped between her legs and grazed the lips of her pussy with its velvet-covered softness.

Both of them froze. Santa was too stunned to react for a moment, and before he was able to gather his wits about him, Timma began to move slightly, first forward and then back, so that her lush backside nestled itself more firmly into his groin. This action caused the velvet top of his hardened prick to rub teasingly along the lips of her cunt, and it seemed almost as though she was testing out this new sensation that had so unexpectedly presented itself. Forward and back she went again, and a low moan escaped from the back of her delicate throat. Soon she was engaging in a regular motion, her eyes half closed, panting slightly, the entirety of her concentration focused on the new and tender sensations emanating from between her thighs. Her breasts swayed with each movement, and in the guttering light of the candle cast enormous shadows upon the walls. Each stroke plowed a furrow between her pussylips, drawing a lingering caress along their edges, and coaxed a shuddering sigh from her lungs.

Suddenly her warm, sucking young cunt pulled off of Santa's straining cock, revealing the dampness of the soaked velvet material, and her hands were working deftly at the laces of Santa's breeches. A fierce determination showed itself in her eyes as she pulled the garment down to his knees, setting free the tautly stretched rod inside. Her slim delicate fingers curled around it testingly, exploring its length with a feathery touch. Santa groaned wordlessly, and Timma looked up at him, her doe-eyes shining, and whispered, "Now I know what Nummi was doing in Dancer's stall." And with that, her agile tongue flicked out teasingly and traced the tip of his cock for a moment, before retreating again between her full pink lips. Out again came the pointy little tongue, tracing around the purple crown, coating it with gleaming saliva. Then she formed her moistened lips into a round O, closing them delicately around the tip of his cock, engulfing its head in her warm wet mouth, sighing slightly as she did so, so that her warm breath fluttered along the length of his prick and her lips vibrated resonantly. Her golden hair spilled down her naked back, as she knelt before Santa with his prick in her mouth, cute little elf-breasts sticking out proudly before her, knees spread so that her wet pussy gaped openly downwards below its soft thatch of golden fur. Looking upward with her wide blue eyes, Timma slid her lips longingly down the length of Santa's straining pole, then backwards again, running her tongue gently over its bumps and ridges as she stroked in and out, in and out. She hummed wordlessly, lost in an ecstasy of worship, soaking in the new sensations she was experiencing as his steaming meat filled her eager little mouth. Suddenly her baby-blue eyes popped open, and she pulled her lips off of Santa's cock, which emerged wet and shining from the depths of her slender throat.

"That's nice, but not so nice as the first thing," she said, hopping up on the workbench and spreading her long legs around Santa's shoulders. She grasped his prick in her tiny little hand and pulled it gently, inexorably toward the point where her legs met, where the bubbly globes of her backside lay slightly flattened on the bench, and above them the opening lips of her tiny golden pussy covered with shining golden hairs. The purple head of Santa's cock pushed fatly into the folds of her cunt, splitting the two lips on either side and stretching them out redly, and extending the little button of her clitoris so that it rubbed against the tip. Timma lay quivering, breasts poised, mouth half open in longing. The opening lay waiting redly, expectantly, as she gradually pushed herself downwards onto the madly stiff pole, which disappeared into the sucking depths with a slow, smooth glide.

There was the briefest of hitches, and then Timma's clutching arms pulled Santa's cock deep within her warm folds, spearing her wanting hole with his manly weapon. A moment later, she was sliding off of him, and then back down his length, clasping his prick with a soft, firm grasp that nonetheless yielded each time he reentered her. Soon Timma was bouncing gaily on his cock, crying out with a little gasp each time she hit bottom, her tits jiggling wantonly, legs splaying out slightly with each thrust. Her mouth gaped open each time her needy pussy slid down the length of his prick, and as he slid out again her cuntlips seemed to suck tenderly at it as though sorry to see it go. Santa's hands came down and squeezed her cute young breasts together, rubbing and playing with the desperately stiff little nipples, causing her to groan with arousal. Her rhythmic gasps filled the workshop, faster and faster, as her suddenly knowing little pussy worked his cock and her full ruby-tipped mounds occupied his hands.

With a roar, Santa felt the last of his self-restraint give way, as a river of semen gushed from his cock into her eagerly awaiting pussy. Urgent pulses of energy pumped life into her willing womb, filling her up with sticky come. Timma was lost in the throes of orgasmic bliss, her breath coming in short little gasps, head thrown back so that her delicate neck was exposed and her golden tresses spilled over the workbench. At last her throes of ecstasy subsided, and a delicate flush of color spread from her cheeks, down over her heaving young breasts, almost to the point where their bodies still remained joined, Santa's cock buried deep within her lithe little body. "Well, now I know what I want for Christmas," she said breathlessly.