Santa's Toys

A lot of men cheat on their wives. Bar pickups, hookers and one-night stands are the method of choice for ordinary men. Powerful men do it differently. They don't have to pay for it and they don't have to look for it. Volunteer pussy is available to them everywhere 24 hours a day. Powerful men often keep a little something on the side, ready for them whenever they need it. Purely sexual relationships are maintained for long and short term periods.

I am proud to proclaim that I am Santa's little something on the side. Every Christmas Eve, he comes to me. He has a long night of work and he needs an occasional break to refresh himself.

I awaken from a very deep sleep to find him already on my bed, kneeling beside my head, his stiff cock pulsing over my face. I know I'm about to get fucked. It will be fast and rough and painful and if I didn't want it so goddamned much, it would count as rape. But first, I have to suck his cock.

I always try to be gentle. I'll start with kisses. I'll lick him up and down his shaft. I know he likes that, but on Christmas Eve, he doesn't have the time. He forces himself roughly into my mouth. He straddles my neck and fucks my mouth hard. Hairy balls tickle my chin. His large, meaty hands will grip my hair, using it like handles or the reins of a horse, holding my head steady as he thrusts into my face.

On Christmas Eve, his cock always tastes like fresh pussy. I recognize the flavour, but I won't tell you how. I won't be the first girl he'll fuck that night. I won't be his last girl either. I would never put up with that kind of behaviour from another lover, but from him, it is welcome. From a powerful man, I have a right to expect it. Somehow, that's part of the thrill. Just knowing that he's been with all those other girls is a huge turn on.

Dozens, perhaps even hundreds of girls all over the world will have received his savage passions on that night. That magical man has a lot of stamina. It's like being with a rock star or a professional athlete or a politician. I am a member of a select group. In all the wide world, only a very few of us have proven worthy of his attentions. We are the elite, elevated above all other women. Only we have the power to turn that earth-shaking presence into an ordinary man.

The blowjob doesn't last long. I don't have to do very much, just keep my mouth open, and my lips and tongue pressed against his cock. I don't have to find the right places to lick and tickle. There is no teasing or playing. He rapes my mouth and I lie there and take it. When he cums, he delivers a massive load. He explodes onto my tongue and into my throat. I don't get a choice of 'spit' or 'swallow'. He is still fucking my face and if I don't swallow, I choke.

Santa is not an ordinary man. Whatever magic is in him that lets him do the whole world in a single night translates to the bedroom as well. When he finishes with my mouth, he'll want pussy. There is no recovery time. There is no foreplay. He won't even wish me a merry Christmas. I have no time to prepare myself. He yanks and twists my body into whatever position he wants me in. Whether I want it or not, I'm about to get fucked.

He doesn't ask. He's never asked. Whatever I'm wearing will be yanked to the side and he'll plunge that angry monster into me. Luckily, blowjobs turn me on. They get me really wet or it would hurt a lot. The bed will creak and groan and sometimes even crack as he pounds into me. He's a large and heavy man and he is energetic. It's like using a jackhammer as a vibrator. I cannot move under his fierce assault.

With all of his weight pounding against my pelvis, nailing me to the mattress with his cock, I'll be gasping for breath, crushed beneath him. He is huge. I have to spread my legs so wide to accommodate him, it feels like my hips are cracking. My pussy will be stretched tight, packed with hard cock. It will feel like he's ripping me apart. I'll be aching and bruised for the next week.

A moment later, it will be over. A loud groan will come out of his throat. My raw and sensitive pussy will feel each pulse of his cock as he fills me with his essence. For some reason, it is only when he stops his brutal assault on my innards and starts pulling his cock out that my own orgasm hits.

It is so fucking intense. I'll be laughing and crying and screaming. I cannot speak or think coherently. The neighbors have occasionally called the police. But my rapist lover will be out of my bed and back up the chimney before I can even catch my breath. I'll feel like I'm in shock.

In January, or perhaps February, he'll be back to see me again. He'll take his time then. He'll be gentle and kind and loving. I'll tell him how my day went. He'll recite juvenile crime statistics in Texas or Germany or tell me about current trends in the toy market. It won't be the same.

The man is turned on by Christmas. Nothing else excites him and it is that passion that gets me turned on. I am one of Santa's Toys. That's what he likes to call us. It's rough duty. It's combat fucking. I am honoured to serve.