Miriam's Christmas Miracle

Miriam was drunk.

She sat in the dimly lit and sparsely populated bar early in the afternoon, having been forced to leave work early due to the half day. She had watched bitterly as everyone left, knowing all her co-workers were thrilled to finally be off for Christmas and were headed home to the warm embraces of families, spouses, and lovers, while she was not. She actually would have just as soon worked well into the evening doing paperwork, then gone home and gone straight to bed.

But since that was not an option, she decided to stop off for a few drinks instead. Miriam sat at the bar, alternately staring into her mixed drink, listening to the nauseatingly repetitive Christmas music, and looking around at the assorted collection of drunks, losers, and pot-bellied balding salesmen. The bar was decorated in a thoroughly unrestrained and gaudy manner, which only added to Miriam's misery. She would glance over once in a while to an annoyingly jolly animated Santa, staring at it dumbly, wanting desperately to kill the repulsive thing.

As she surveyed her hellish surroundings, her mind kept returning to the thought that hammered in her head with as much obnoxious regularity as the Christmas carols: Here it was, the day before Christmas, and she was -- once again -- alone.

Miriam had come to the big city from her small town nearly a decade ago to go to college and law school and begin her career. She had accomplished both of those things with great dispatch and success, but once happily entrenched in her job she quickly found that finding quality people with whom to spend time, even in a city of hundreds of thousands, was actually very difficult. She had discovered that Christmas was always the most difficult holiday for her to be so alone, and with every passing year she became more and more convinced that she was simply doomed to be alone and never again feel the touch of a man who loved her, feel his hot breath on the nape of her neck as they made love, or to feel the pressure of a cock as it was slowly slid inside her.

So that is why, on this Christmas Eve day at not yet 1:30 in the afternoon, Miriam was drunk.

Miriam sat there for another two hours, until finally the bartender said to her, "Bar's closing, lady. Time to go."

"Wha—what?" she asked, not grasping the concept through her Jagermeister-clouded brain. "So early? I just got started!"

"The bar's closed for Christmas, and we all want to get home. C'mon, lady," he said now, gently but firmly escorting her off her stool and to the door, "it's time to go."

He opened the door for her, gently thrusting her out into the cold, a gentle flurry of snow just starting to settle on the pavement. "Have a Merry Christmas, lady," he said with a smile, closing the door even before he was done wishing her well.

"Yeah, well...fuck you, too," she muttered to herself as she began to stumble along the sidewalk, walking the several blocks to her apartment.

As she did, Miriam kept returning to the tormenting thoughts of being alone for yet another Christmas. This particular holiday in her house as a little girl was always the most special, the most magical of all holidays. Her parents lavished attention on her, their only child, so every Christmas wish became a Christmas reality. But beyond that, her home was always warm, bright, happy, and joyful during this time of year with beautiful, hand-made decorations her father himself would craft, with delicious baked goods and treats her mother could create like none other, and the constant bustle of various relations.

But her parents died the same year she started college, and the various relations all either grew old and died or grew up and drifted away. So here she was, suffering through yet another lonely Christmas with an ache in her heart like nothing she knew...nothing, that is, but the equally maddening ache in her pussy.

While Miriam was in college, she certainly enjoyed the life of a sexy young co-ed living in the big city, having different guys nearly every weekend. But then she graduated and went to law school, and made the willful choice to focus on her legal career, forsaking such things as dating and relationships. In time she realized she missed far more than mere companionship, but desperately needed to have the sexual beast that was growing inside her fed. She had met some guys discreetly for sex, but couldn't help but notice they seemed to lose interest in her needs as soon as they reached orgasm. She had had a few boyfriends, but none of them seemed to satisfy her sexually, and so the relationships soon ended, usually with thinly veiled and angry recriminations that her inability to be satisfied sexually was entirely her fault and no reflection on their manhood. She had even had a fling with a married man for a while, who was at least able to keep up with her and satisfy her magnificently, but who was forced to abandon their relationship when his wife found out and gave him an ultimatum.

Since then, Miriam had been without sex for nearly five years, finding release only in her fingers and assorted sex toys. She was now 34-years-old but felt as desperate for sex as a teenager.

As she clumsily stumbled her way home, mumbling sadly to herself and tormented by thoughts of loneliness and the fire in her pussy which only seemed to get worse the more she drank, Miriam saw a man dressed in a cheap Santa outfit, seated by one of those ubiquitous charity collections seen so often this time of year. He must have been sitting out there collecting nickels and dimes since the day after Halloween, because the once hearty wave and jolly laugh had dwindled down to a cranky monologue.

"Ho ho...Merry Christmas...ho ho...Merry Christmas..." he repeated over and over again unenthusiastically, clearly not giving a damn whether anyone had a merry Christmas or not.

Miriam stumbled up until she was standing in front of him, looking at this cheap knock-off Santa. She remembered the elaborate Santa outfit her father would always sport for her and the other kids in the neighborhood. They'd always eagerly anticipate Santa's visit, his lusty laugh, sitting on his lap and getting exactly what they most wanted. Miriam had quickly figured out it was actually her father, but she didn't care. She always felt so safe and loved when she was wrapped up in his strong arms she was perfectly happy to play that little charade.

She stood there staring at him for a few moments, until the charity Santa finally looked at her and said, "Yeah?"

"Santa?" Miriam asked in a small voice, nearly in tears. "Why can't I get what I want?"

He looked at her puzzled for a moment, then said, "Huh?"

She now approached him with arms out, massaging his chest aggressively. "Why can't I get what I want, Santa? Why can't I get what I need?" Miriam slid down his chest onto her knees, her hands trailing down to his crotch, rubbing his quickly swelling cock through his thread-bare Santa pants.

"Lady, lady...what...who?" he stammered, making a half-hearted and insincere effort to stop her.

"Why can't I have a cock for Christmas? Do you know how long it's been since I sucked a cock? I love to suck cock..." Miriam said, speaking more to herself than to Santa. She was trying to get his belt unbuckled, but finding it exceedingly difficult with her alcohol-clouded mind. She could feel his stiff cock through his pants and was growing steadily desperate, knowing how it would feel in her mouth, how the veins would feel as she traced them with her tongue, how hot and tasty his cum would feel squirting into her mouth...

Miriam had finally figured out the difficult trick of getting a belt unbuckled and was just about to unzip his pants to let his hard cock out, when she heard a woman's high voice shriek, "What the hell are you doing?!"

Santa bolted straight up, knocking Miriam down onto the snowy pavement as he did. "Uh...uh...this lady...she," he stammered, trying to get his belt buckled, looking thoroughly ridiculous as he did so. The woman wore the uniform of the charitable organization for which Santa was collecting money, and was clearly his supervisor.

Miriam stood up slowly, brushing the snow off her coat. Santa and his supervisor squabbled loudly, the woman accusing him of being a pervert and corrupting the meaning of charity, Santa accusing her of being a tight assed-bitch and maybe needing to suck some cock herself. She threatened to not pay him for today; he threatened to sue the entire organization. She called him a waste. He called her a cunt. Miriam was utterly forgotten in the argument, and slowly, sadly, desperately slinked her way down the sidewalk, sounds of the argument drifting softly away into the cold December air.

"God damn it," she mumbled to herself sadly, "I can't even suck Santa's cock!"

After what felt like an interminable period of time -- punctuated only by the cheery people she would pass on the way home, most of which happily wished her a Merry Christmas, many of whom were wrapped in the arms of a lover -- Miriam finally made it to her apartment building. It was already getting dark outside on this late December day, so when she opened the door to her stylish apartment the gloom almost overwhelmed her. She had intentionally not decorated for Christmas this year because she could hardly see the point to it, so while other homes now glowed with the pleasant cheer of soft lights and happy hearts, the only thing that glowed in Miriam's world were her cheeks as she poured herself a cognac.

Drunk now almost to the point of passing out, Miriam wandered her way into her bedroom, wondering why she even had a queen-size bed. Not like she fucked anyone in it, and she could certainly sleep on her couch. She swallowed the last drops of her cognac, stripped off all her clothes, and finally collapsed in her bed. Miriam lay for a moment, curled up in a ball, crying softly to herself, until the combined efforts of depression, fatigue, and alcohol made her fall soundly asleep...

***

It was pitch black in her bedroom when Miriam's eyes suddenly flew open. She laid stock still in her bed, thinking she had heard a sound coming from the living room. She lay there, listening carefully, wondering if she had in fact hears something or if it was just a dream intruding into real life. As Miriam lay in the silent inky blackness she became convinced that the sound had been in a dream as was about to let her eye lids slide down again, when she distinctly heard a loud thump come from her apartment.

She now sat up in bed, suddenly terrified. Following the thump Miriam thought she heard the foot fall of a heavy boot, which sent shivers of terror racing down her spine. She now believed there was an intruder in her home, one that sounded to be male, and that suggested a very unpleasant outcome. As Miriam's mind began racing as to what she should do, whether she should go see what was the matter, where she could go to be safe, how she could possibly escape if need be, she noticed a soft, orange glow begin to seep in from beneath the closed door of her bedroom. This caused a shiver of panic to rush over Miriam in chilling waves, as the prospect of getting trapped in a burning high-rise building now seemed like a real possibility. Fear of confronting her intruder was now replaced by a primal need to escape a fiery death, and so she jumped out of bed and ran to the door.

As she swung open the bedroom door, Miriam stopped cold; she wondered at first if the panic in her mind was so great that she was now hallucinating because of the image that greeted her eyes. The soft glow was not caused by a deadly fire raging through her home, but was rather the result of hundreds of small candles that had been placed and arranged through out her living room. Their combined warmth touched Miriam's face and naked breasts gently, and their unique odor made her fear and panic melt away to nothing. The odor was so unique, so soothing, so pleasing that her nipples grew hard in response to divine aroma. As she gazed about she saw that her once laconic living room was now decorated in utter Christmas glory, with a full-sized Christmas tree in corner, lavished with hundreds of beautiful ornaments. There were wreaths and garlands everywhere in her apartment, all apparently hand-made out of real pine boughs. The sweet scent of fresh-cut pine mixed with the distinct smell of the candles was simply intoxicating. Everywhere she looked, Miriam saw gorgeous Christmas decorations the like of which she had never seen before, never even had known were possible.

As she wandered through her apartment in wide-eyed wonder, Miriam stopped suddenly when she saw a tall man standing before her, looking at her. Although fear and loathing would have been the normal response to such a confrontation, Miriam felt no such emotions, only happiness, contentment, pleasure...as if seeing an old friend again for the first time in years.

The man wore a long burgundy robe made of what appeared to be the richest velvet ever seen, lined in soft ermine fur. She noted that an intricate vine and leaf pattern had been applied to the velvet in a shade only a slight tone lighter than the rich burgundy of the robe, so as the man moved his clothes appeared to shimmer. A hood -- likewise lined in fur -- was on his head, but did not obscure his face or features. Miriam was struck by the fact that this man had a long, snow white beard and equally long white hair, but that his face was not in the least bit old; to Miriam he appeared no older than herself.

But for Miriam, the most amazing thing of all about this man was his eyes. They were locked mercilessly onto her own, seeming to have captured her eyes as well as her very soul through the intensity of his look. His eyes were of such a pale, icy blue that Miriam felt simply mesmerized by his gaze.

This man said not a word, but slowly began to unfasten the thick black belt that kept his robe together. Once he had completely unfastened it, he let the belt fall to the floor, and then slowly pulled back and took off his robe to revel his naked flesh beneath it. Miriam sucked in her breath as she did, as he revealed to her a pale yet exquisitely toned and muscled body. Her eyes slowly pulled away from his, drinking in the image of his powerfully built chest, then his lean waist and superbly chiseled abs, and then finally lower.

Miriam couldn't help but moan slightly and unconsciously lick her lips when she saw his massive, glorious cock. It stood out from a patch of snowy white hair; it was thick, hard, and perfectly curved, almost drawn up like a bow. Her mouth literally watered as she look at its smooth skin, thinking it had to be at least seven or eight inches. Whatever its actual dimensions, Miriam knew it was the longest, thickest cock she had ever seen. Large, full balls swung deliciously beneath the massive cock with any move he made, making Miriam's desire only more enflamed.

The man stared at her intently, his eyes like an unbreakable chain connected to Miriam's. He stood still with arms akimbo as she took in his gorgeous naked body, and then strode quickly to her when her eyes returned to his. The man wore old-fashioned leather riding boots that rose nearly to his knees, which made a thick clunk as he strode towards Miriam; there was something about that sound, about gauging how close he was getting to her not only by sight but also by the sound of his approach, the she found wildly arousing.

He walked up to Miriam until they were mere inches from each other, naked to naked, his stiff cock gently brushing against her pubic area. The man continued to gaze deeply into her eyes, as if speaking to her in a silent language known only to sight. He gently took hold of her face in his calloused workman's hands, holding her visage as if the finest treasure. Then, bringing her face to his lips, he kissed her softly, tenderly. Shivers of pleasure and wild desire raced along Miriam's spine at the first touch of his lips to hers, and she felt a thin trickle of pussy juices leak down her leg because she was so amazingly aroused.

The man broke the soft kiss, looked into her eyes again, then leaned in once more to give Miriam and deep, passionate kiss, tongues swirling and dancing around each other. As he did her pulled Miriam to him, her soft naked chest pressed against his muscular one, his thick cock now pressed fully against her pubic area and lower belly. Miriam felt the burning heat of this hard rod pressed against her, and wanted desperately to have it in her mouth.

As if knowing this, the man broke their kiss after a minute and stepped back; taking Miriam's eyes in his gaze again, he gently pushed down on her shoulder. Not needing any such directions or suggestions, Miriam happily dropped to her knees before this man, her face now perfectly level with his amazing cock.

She reached out and gently, almost reverently, took it in her hand. Miriam looked at this cock deeply, taking in every delicious detail she could as she slowly slid her fingers down the shaft to the snowy mane of pubic hair, then back up to the smooth, engorged head. To her wondering eyes this cock appeared almost magical, and her mouth was watering with anticipation. Yet still she gazed at with an almost worshipful attitude in her heart as she continued to stroke it gently, so very appreciative to have this incredible thing before her.

Miriam could finally resist no longer, but went right to her work. She gently clasped her hand around the shaft of the cock, her hand looking small as the fingers wrapped around this thick piece of meat. Miriam then tenderly swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, nearly cumming right then because the feel of this hard but smooth flesh on against her tongue was nearly too delectable for her to stand. She couldn't help but moan happily, almost unable to bear the combined pleasure caused by her tongue on his cock and the burning in her pussy. Miriam slid her free hand down to her clit and began rubbing.

She swirled her tongue around the head for a time, alternately sucking the tip gently and slowly running her tongue along the entire impressive length of it. She broke away from that pattern for a time, and instead stroked the length of it with her hand while she swept underneath his cock to gently lick and suck his full, heavy balls. She would then slowly lick her way back up from his balls along the shaft to the cock head, and lick it happily like a kid with a lollipop.

Miriam had very intentionally not put the entire thing into her mouth yet, not to tease the man in any way but rather to prolong her pleasure, but the itch on the back of her throat was becoming hard to ignore. She could take it no longer, and slowly slid the entire thing into her mouth, sucking gently as she did so. Miriam consciously loosened her throat as she did, and was quite proud she managed to swallow the man's entire massive cock. She held it there for a moment, savoring the feeling on his cock entirely occupying her mouth and touching her throat, then she slide it out at an equally slow pace. When her lips returned to the head, Miriam would suck and lick it gently, stroke the long cock with her hand, then repeat her slow sexual devouring. Her clit was on fire as she rubbed it, the slow penetrating action mirroring what she desperately wanted for her pussy; but for now, she was content to have this delicious cock in her mouth.

This delectable torturing went on for some time, with Miriam alternating between sucking on the entire length, licking the shaft and balls, and stroking it, until she could feel the man's already hard cock grow stiffer. She knew what sweet treat that suggested; if she needed any further proof the man had tightly taken hold of the hair on the back of her head in his hands and was pumping his cock into Miriam's mouth. She wanted to taste his cum desperately, so as Miriam sucked in the length of his cock at a rapid pace she also led her lips with a hand wrapped around his thick meat, jerking him even as she sucked him, while with the other hand she gently massaged his balls.