Just a fun little Christmas story. A little late but I hopefully you will enjoy it.
Synopsis: Debbie is a typical housewife who meets Santa and has the most unusual Christmas Eve experience. Was it a dream or did it really happen?
As I sit here on a cold Christmas Eve rocking my twins to sleep, I have to tell you a story. This is the story of my experience a year ago this very night. Whether it was a real, a dream or something in between, I will never know. You can decide. I am a typical suburban mom of two, living in a typical small town, married to a typical man, and living in a typical suburban home in the western United States. I married to man who earns a decent living trying to convince people to buy things that they could do without and values his precious career over anything or anyone. His idea of fun is golf with the "important people" while I and the kids exist and try to enjoy being our own little family.
It all began as a normal American Christmas Eve. With a dying fire in the fireplace, my kids and I hung four brightly colored stockings on the mantel while sipping hot chocolate with little marshmallows. I husband had just finished his 9th beer and was bitching about all the mess we were making. We placed milk and cookies out for Santa that the kids has meticulously decorated. I then cuddled up with my son and daughter in a quilt and began to read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas'. As Santa was saying, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night," their little heads started nodding. Somewhere between 'ma in her kerchief' and 'he looked like a peddler just opening his pack,' my half drunk husband had slid off to bed. I gently carried each of my preschoolers upstairs and tucked each one in as 'vision of sugar plums danced in their heads.'
Then I put on my new silk Christmas nightgown, placed gifts around the tree and slid into bed beside my personal, beached whale. My only regret was that I had not been able to find either the doll that my daughter so wanted and the superhero action figure that my son had his hopes set on. They each had only one item on their Christmas list and I had failed them both. The stores had been sold out for weeks and though I had reminded Moby Dick to get them, he had waited until it was too late. I couldn't even find them on-line at a price that I could afford.
It was a quite, still night with only lightly falling snow so everything was very quite. Well, almost everything. Shamu, beside me, was performing his his nightly ritual of farting, burping and snoring. What a pig. At least there were lulls in the acoustic bombardment that afforded me some degree of solace. It was during one of those lulls that I heard something downstairs. I waited for the next respite and then heard it again. It sounded like someone was in our house. I shook the lug beside me in an effort to get him to go check it out but that was futile endeavor.
I slipped out of bed and in the dark reached for the softball bat in the corner of the closet. If I could help it, no one was going to steal what few things I had been able to afford for my kids. They were going to be disappointed already, but I was not going to let that turn into the Christmas from hell by having no toys. I am usually not that bold but for some reason, I felt drawn to confront this intruder and protect my home and children.
I quietly walked down the hallway and then eased my way down the staircase until I was near enough to peak around the corner of stair well, across the dark living room and through the French door opening. Since the fire had not quite gone out, I saw the shadow of the thief. Being angry, protective and emboldened by some unknown force, I crept across the living room, staying in the shadows with my bat at the ready. By watching the shadow, I knew the thug was just around the edge of the French door opening. I stood at the ready with my weapon cocked. It was then that I noticed the shadow growing larger indicating that he was coming nearer.
Whether it was a conscious decision, an instinctive reaction or a nutmeg induced, eggnog fueled burst of courage, I swung with all my might. It was a nice level swing about three and half feet off the ground intended to be a gut buster. In the majors, it would have been a homerun. The bat struck its target with a thud. The target hit the ground with an equally loud thud.
I jumped around the corner ready to take a second swing and was rocked to my core. On the ground was the most petite little person that I had ever seen. She was maybe four feet tall, wore a tight little green dress, little pointed shoes and had gorgeous blond hair. Her forehead was crushed and in one look, it was obviously that I had just killed this little girl. Little girl? Well not really. She had breasts. She had hips. I had just killed a miniature woman.
I was crushed, confused and panicked. Suddenly, behind me came a shout, "You killed her. You killed my elf."
I spun around and there before me was Santa Claus himself. Now I am a grown woman. I don't believe in Santa. It wasn't just his suit, it was his face, his demeanor and his spirit, which even in these dire circumstances seemed to warm me to my core.
I looked back toward the deceased elf and her body magically disappeared in a cloud that I can only describe as fairy dust which spun around the room, up the chimney and out into the winter world. Laying on the floor was her quite unusual clothing and nothing else. I dropped the bat in disbelief of what I had just seen.
"Don't look so shocked, Debbie. It is Christmas magic. She will still live but only at the North Pole where Christmas magic comes from.
"Dear," said Santa looking into my eyes, "it is Christmas Eve and someone has to take her place. It looks like you just volunteered. The toys have to be delivered and I have to have the help or many children will be disappointed."
My mind was frantically searching for an excuse. "But Santa, I can't. I have to stay here with the children. Plus there isn't enough time to deliver all the toys."
He just smiled. "Debbie. I stop time on Christmas Eve to deliver the toys. You have all the time in the world but...... it is your job to help. It is your fault after all." He glanced at the spot where the elf dress now lay. "Plus, as a reward for your help, I will leave a life size version of the doll that your daughter wants and the life size action figure that your son wants. I only have one of each and those are the only ones in the whole world."
My mind said no but my heart said yes. The joy that would bring my kids would be my Christmas present. What else could I do. "Okay Santa, let's go."
"Not so fast dear Debbie. You are forgetting the Santa helpers suit."
"What?" I exclaimed. "I can't fit in that."
"But you have to cutie. The Christmas magic in the suit makes it possible for you to be my helper."
I stared at him in disbelief and thought "Christmas Magic? Really?" I could not however, deny what I had just witnessed.
Reluctantly, I grabbed the suit and tried to make a make a quick change with that jolly old elf watching me. I stripped quickly, trying to be as modest as possible. I dropped the elf dress to the floor, stepped in and pulled it up over my hips. Or at least I tried to. My hips were certainly wider than the petite elf but after much effort pulled the dress to a skin tight fit, only to discover another problem. I am 5'3". The elf may have been 4 feet tall, if that much. I was going to have either my ass or my boobs exposed. I decided to at least cover my boobs. That didn't work so well. I am a 35B, maybe a 35C. She may have been a 28A. I managed to coax the top enough to just barely cover my nipples. Doing so compressed my boobs together forming a bulging cleavage that impressed even me. It must have impressed Santa as well because I could almost swear that the jolly old elf had something growing bellow that bowl full of jelly, belly.
In a vain attempt at modesty, I grabbed her little red panties and forced them up over my hips. So much for fit. My considerably wider hips and more pronounced ass turned those red panties into red thongs. The bulge growing along Santa's right leg expressed his growing approval. Surprisingly, the thong in the back was repeated in the front giving me a severe camel toe, which was at first uncomfortable but then put pressure on my clit just right making me instantly excited. The excitement grew with every move I made due to the friction on my clit.
After putting on some tan thigh high stockings to keep my legs warm and the only matching heels that I own (cute 4" heels), I asked, "Are we ready now?"
"Ho, ho, ho." He grabbed my arm and with a wink of his eye, a node of his head and laying his finger beside of his nose, up the chimney we rose.
Once on the roof, I got my first look at his gorgeous, antique sleigh and his team of nine famous reindeer lead by Rudolph himself. They aren't exactly tiny. They are quite large animals. They got their first look at me too. They obviously approved. I grew up on a farm and saw horses when they get horny. They have nothing on those reindeer. Their schlongs were at least 18 inches long and thick as a man's arm. The phrase should be changed from hung like a mule to hung like a reindeer.
Santa leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Watch out for Rudolph. I hear that he is a real animal!"
I climbed into the sleigh and we were off. Each time, landing smoothly on the roof, down the chimney, drop the toys, eat a cookie, drink some milk, back up the chimney and back in the sleigh. A few folks had left us a little spiked eggnog and one left us some brandy. On one such stop, Santa and I bumped into each other and he stole a quick kiss.
We had already left toys at two or three thousand houses when, while we were in a particularly fancy home, decided to sit down for a break. I told Santa that my chest was getting so cold which was obvious from my reddened nipples peaking above my elf dress. Really, I had these panties pressing on my clit and this thong up my ass so long that I was hot as hell. I would have fucked a pogo stick. I just wanted to see his reaction.
Santa drew me close and kissed me with the sweetest lips, I have ever known. His kiss tasted like nutmeg and roasted chestnuts. His tongue was like the sweetest candy and he held me like I was his prized possession. I was instantly in heaven. He moved his kisses down my neck to my chest, brushing my breasts with his soft beard. Continuing his downward trek, he released my breast from their snug display case and licked his way to my reddened, inflamed nipples. He sucked my nipples in his mouth one after the other with such force that I was about to sing Fa, la, la, la, la. I distinctly remember that his hair smelled like cinnamon. I was right on the edge of cumming when he pulled away and said, "Back to the sleigh". Sexually frustrated, yet wanting more, up the chimney we went and back into the sleigh.
