Silent Night 7

"Goodnight, dad!"

"Goodnight, son."

"Goodnight, mom!"

"Goodnight, Timmy. Don't forget to fall fast asleep or Santa might skip us this year!"

"I know, mom! Jeez. I'm 23; you don't have to remind me every year!" "Goodnight, Aunt Sarah!"

"Goodnight, little guy."

I took a quick look back over my shoulder to make sure everything was set before going to bed. There were four fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies on a platter with a glass of milk for Santa and nine raw carrots for the reindeer. Some people forget about the reindeer, and most of those that do remember only leave out a single carrot for Rudolph to eat, but, like mom always says, "there's no I in team."

I headed upstairs to my room. It was weird... being back in my room. After college, I needed to find a job, and my mom helped me to find one where she worked, but it didn't pay well enough for me to afford my own place any more. I was stuck at home again until I could find something better. But fortunately, this meant I had one more chance to meet the great toy-maker.

It had been a dream of mine for as long as I could remember to meet Santa... the real Santa. But every year, I'd fall asleep. I simply could not will myself to stay up all night, especially in the dark, quiet house. But this year, I was older. I was college-educated. And I had a plan.

I closed the door and lied in bed. I didn't want to be too comfortable and fall asleep so I kept my jeans and t-shirt on. As I laid there staring at the ceiling, I heard my mom, dad, and aunt make their way up the stairs. Aunt Sarah was staying in the guest bedroom next to mine and mom and dad had their bedroom at the end of the hall.

The light switch clicked in the hallway and my room went completely dark. I quietly rolled out of bed and onto the floor and grabbed my PSP. I had already muted it and dimmed the screen earlier that day so that nobody would hear or see anything. I wasn't too fond of my PSP because there were so few worthwhile games for it, but it seemed like the best way to keep myself up through the night.

The screen flashed and the game started. I don't remember what game it was. To be honest, I don't remember much of anything after that because I had fallen asleep.

I woke up startled and began to curse myself for falling asleep yet again. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I realized it was still dark out. "Maybe it's not too late after-all," I thought to myself. The light danced under the door and I heard muffled noises coming through the floor. "Santa?" I wondered.

I rolled onto my belly and lifted myself up onto my feet. I crept over to the door and carefully turned the knob and opened it. I could tell that the flickering light was from a candle in the living room so I slowly moved to the top of the stairs and looked down. Shadows were moving along the walls. Step by step, I descended the staircase until I could see into the living room.

My eyes grew wide as I saw the legend himself, sitting there in dad's recliner. And, to my surprise, my mom was there with him on his lap talking softly into his ear. And then, from the corner of my eye, I noticed more movement on the couch and could just barely make out the silhouette of my aunt. I sat there, staring, with all the joy in the world filling my lungs near the point of explosion, as I prepared myself to finally meet my idol.

"Uh oh, looks like we have an interloper."

"Timmy!" mom screamed.

My heart dropped like a rock as I nearly wet my pants right there on the stairs.

"I thought I told you to go to bed, young man!"

"I-I did, mom. I'm sorry," I choked out the words as my mother looked at me, her face flushed and her body tense with anger. I completely forgot about how badly I wanted to meet Santa as I turned to head back to my room.

"Not so fast, Timmy!" she called out, "Get your horny little ass down here and give your mother a hand."

I wasn't really sure what she meant, the words didn't register at first, but I complied with the command and descended the stairs. I stared at the floor, embarrassed, as I stood next to mom. Closer up in the dim light, I could see that she wasn't sitting in Santa's lap the way the boys and girls do at the mall, she was actually straddling the jolly old man. I also noticed that she had changed her outfit from earlier tonight -- she was wearing a short, red skirt with puffy white trim. It reminded me of Santa's hat. Her top was similarly designed, with short sleeves and a very low neck line. Her midriff was completely bare, revealing the pouch that she developed over the years, and she had dark leather boots with very long heels running all the way up to her knees. Her blonde hair was slightly messy and hanged to her shoulders. I also noticed, for the first time ever, that mom's chest stood out as proudly as the finest pair of double-D's I could ever imagine. In fact, they were probably even bigger, but I wasn't sure what was bigger than a double-D cup at the moment because my mind simply wandered as I lost myself in her mile of cleavage.

I guess some time must have passed because the next thing I noticed about mom was her hand slapping me across the face.

"You filthy pig! How dare you look at your mother that way!" she scolded.

"Mom, I-I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"I don't want to hear it! Now where's that hand I asked for?"

Somewhat confused, I raised my hands and looked at them. Did she really want a hand... literally? No sooner could I question it then she grabbed me by the arm and pulled my hand in front of her body. She manipulated my fingers and yanked my hand beneath her skirt, forcing me to lean in slightly. My nostrils flared at the musky aroma that mixed with the strawberry scent of mom's hair. My hand was resting on her inner thigh momentarily as mom continued to bend and position my fingers. Her skin was warm, really warm, and moist. Electricity began to pulse through my spine as mom settled on a rhythm with my hand and her body slowly twisted and moved on Santa's lap.

I felt as if I was dreaming... my mind was numb and my reflexes were slow, but I eventually realized what was going on. As mom's body moved, I felt the moist folds of her vagina brushing my fingers, and as she raised her body up, I could tell she was fucking her own pussy on a penis... Santa's penis. Moreover, she was using my fingers... her son's fingers... to stimulate her clit.

Her body arched and Santa grunted. I wasn't entirely sure now whose juices were making such a mess down there, but my fingers were quickly getting covered in them. Mom's body trembled for a moment as a small whimper escaped from deep inside her. She thanked me with a kiss on the cheek and pushed me in the direction of Aunt Sarah as she removed my hand from the scene.

Like a mindless zombie, I inched my way past them and sat next to Aunt Sarah. She looked at me with a pleasant smile on her face. From the stairs, she was just a silhouette sitting here on the couch. But now, close up, I could see her in great detail. Her legs were spread wide, her right foot sat atop the coffee table and her left was bent and on the couch. She half-laid in the corner and she was simultaneously groping her tit and rubbing her clit with her hands. Her dark brown hair was matted against the sofa like she had slowly been sinking deeper into the cushions. She was wearing green stiletto heels with yellow fishnet stockings. A green dog collar was tight around her neck and a green version of Santa's hat was resting just above her head. Her ears looked questionably... pointy.

I wondered to myself if perhaps Aunt Sarah was an elf, but I didn't have long to wonder as she grabbed my wrist and brought my hand... the hand that was covered in mom's and Santa's juices... towards her face. She pulled it under her nose and sighed happily as she took in the aroma, and then she opened her mouth wide and engulfed my fingers so far into her mouth that I swore I could feel her tonsils. Her lips sealed around my fingers as she slowly pulled my hand back out of her mouth. Then, like mom, she began manipulating my fingers with her hands. One by one, she spread my digits apart and ran her tongue up and down between them before sliding each finger back down her throat. When she was done, I realized I was halfway into her lap, supporting myself above her with one arm as she held on to the hand of the other.

"Come here," she beckoned, with a gentle pull of my arm.

I inched myself closer as she stretched out her left leg beside me and positioned me into her lap. My butt was still on the couch, but she draped her right leg from the coffee table across my legs and positioned my head into the crook of her neck. She had let go of my hand as she wrapped her arms around me in a warm embrace. Aunt Sarah and I had hugged countless times before, but never quite this closely. My senses were completely overloaded as they shifted from the warmth that was searing into the side of my leg to the musky aroma assaulting my nostrils and the general feeling of love and comfort as I lied against her.

My body relaxed, slightly. I wasn't sure what to do with my hands. I looked to my lap and saw her leg there so I innocently placed my hands atop her shapely limb. The fishnets were interesting, thick bands of string with pockets of skin. I noticed how well-defined and powerful her leg looked. And then I noticed something else.

Just inches below me were the two most beautiful orbs I could ever imagine. They were easily a full double-D cup, not quite as large as mom's, but beautifully shaped. They looked firm and inviting, and had no trouble defying gravity as they rose and fell with her breathing.

"My poor little guy looks so exhausted," she mused. "Here, you rest your head on auntie's pillow."

Truthfully, I was wired. But as she spoke her second sentence, I felt her shifting in the couch and guiding my head down to rest against her mound of flesh. The nipple was enflamed and looked angry, like a tightly-wound bud, ready to cut glass. Somewhat instinctively, I opened my mouth and flicked my tongue against it, coaxing it, spreading my saliva back and forth across its rough surface, like I was testing it before diving in for the feast.

Aunt Sarah moaned softly. Her left hand was sandwiched between us, but I could feel it now twisting and moving against me as she resumed her earlier activities. Her right hand reached under her breast and lifted it into the air, moving the nipple directly to my mouth as she spoke.

"Here you go, little man. Suck on auntie's melon while we watch your mom have her fun with Santa."

That's right! I had nearly forgotten about mom and Santa, just a few feet away. But now, there they were, in all their glory. Apparently, they had reclined the chair and mom had removed her skirt because I had a front row seat to watching her ass bounce up and down on Santa's stiff pole. The light from the candle was still dim, but they must have been in just the right position because every time mom's gloriously large ass rose into the air, I could see Santa's pipe clearly stuffed inside her pussy. It was so surreal that it was almost like watching TV in slow motion as she brought her hips back down and his cock disappeared bit by bit back into the darkness. Her butt landed with a smack against his thighs and the process would repeat... again and again... as her moans grew louder and more impassioned.

"Oh yes, fuck me, Santa! Fuck mommy. Fuck Timmy's mommy. Fuck me hard, motherfucker!"

Mom was never one to curse... ever. But the sight and sounds of tonight were driving me to heights that I had never experienced before. As I watched mom, Aunt Sarah's hand had found its way under my T-shirt and onto my bare chest. She was gently massaging my skin and playing with my nipples. I also noticed her juices becoming smeared against me in the process as the occasional movement of air from my flapping shirt made my skin shiver. This, no doubt, made my own nipples tighten into little buds even faster as my aunt twisted and pulled against them.

It was around this time that I finally noticed how incredibly uncomfortable my pants had become. My cock felt like it had grown to nearly double the size it typically was when I jerked off, and it was trying to spear itself through my aunt's muscled leg. Fearing I might get yelled at again if I brought further attention to myself, I tried to ignore it, and hoped that my aunt was too fixated on the other events to notice it as well.

Mom dismounted from Santa. Her hair was a sweaty, matted mess, and her chest was heaving like a pony's after a long race. She looked at me, sitting between Aunt Sarah's spread legs, my head resting against her chest. I watched her, not knowing what to say, as her eyes trailed down my body to Aunt Sarah's leg. A large grin formed across her face as she kneeled on the floor in front of me, her lips slightly parted.

I realized it wasn't the leg that she was smiling at as her hand reached out and smothered my crotch. With a quick, powerful tug, she unfastened the button and even opened the zipper halfway. It hurt a bit as she was being so rough and my cock was already so hard and full down there, but just as my hard-on began to wilt, she reached over into my boxers and fished it out.

The feeling of her fingers wrapped tightly around my manhood was beyond words. She stood above me grinning, her eyes ablaze with lust as her hand slowly pumped my cock. Her eyes were fixated on the shaft. Never once did she even look in my direction, she just kept staring at it like a mountain lion fixated on its prey.

My aunt's leg rose away from my lap and my mom pried my legs apart as she raised herself up between them. Her tongue snaked out across her lips as her face came down closer and closer to my groin. Her mouth opened wide, and I realized my aunt was moving her leg behind my mom's head, her powerful muscles squeezing inward to bring mom's mouth onto my cock.

And then, it happened: first contact. My mother's lips were on the crown of my penis. A jolt of electricity shot through me and my hips involuntarily shot upwards as my aunt's leg continued forcing my mom's head further down my pole. Suddenly, half of my cock had disappeared into the most sensational place I had ever experienced.

My hips relaxed and sank back down, and my mom sank right along with them, and kept sinking. Inch after inch, my cock left my view and the tight, warm grip enveloped me further. I was down her throat and plunging further and further until, at last, I felt my mother's nose press into my pelvis. My mother coughed, choking. A tinge of panic managed to bring me back to reality, but my aunt's leg stayed calm and firm against the back of my mom's neck. She coughed again. I stayed motionless. Beads of saliva were pouring down onto my sack. A third cough and my mother's throat clenched so tightly around my cock that I thought she might swallow it whole.

And that's when I realized, my mother was trying to swallow my cock. Her throat muscles worked their way all along my length, massaging every bit of me. Her tongue was pressed firmly into the part of me that was in her mouth, and her lips suctioned my base. I also noticed that, despite the choking, mom wasn't panicked. She seemed completely at peace: her eyes were closed; her body was as motionless as mine.

And then I felt her hand, her meaty palm, pressed into my ball sack. Her finger tips lightly touching different parts of me as her palm worked against my skin. Her breathing became labored, exhaling forcefully from her nose, forcefully enough to reach my balls and feel deliciously cool against my skin, heightened by the gobs of spit my mom was smearing around. I thought for sure that if my cock could see the light of day right now, it would be the angriest shade of purple I had ever seen. Mom coughed, and my body tensed. Her hand got more forceful on my sack. She was squeezing my balls like lemons, tugging them away, stretching the skin. My eyes rose to the ceiling, the sensations taking over me. And then I heard the faintest voice from somewhere in the distance.

"Cum for mommy, Timmy."

It was my Aunt Sarah coaxing me to blow my load.

"Your mother has wanted your seed back inside her for so long. She misses it. And she's going to stay impaled on your cock like that until you give it to her."

Mom coughed again and moaned. And as I looked down at her, her eyes were finally open. She was staring right at me now. The candle light flickered, and I felt like she could peer directly into my soul.

Truthfully, mom and I didn't always get along so well because of our clashing personalities, and I hated how overweight and lazy she was. I often thought that she was probably attractive back when she was young, but she never got back into shape after having two kids. Still, strangely, there was always a hidden part of me that yearned to be back inside her, to experience that loving, nurturing, maternal figure that I had depended on for so long.

And now, the time had come. Here I was, back inside her. And she was nurturing the cum to shoot out of my balls and directly down her gullet. The passion in her eyes was like fire, and I was lost.

"Come on, little man."

My aunt broke the silence.

"Don't keep the slut waiting. She's wanted this for far too long. I know it must feel good down there; your mother has a very talented throat. Just relax and let that big, steamy load out."

It did feel good. Damn good. Mom coughed up more spit onto my balls. She rubbed it around and squeezed my nuts tightly.

Her hand began to glide up my shaft and she pulled her head up with it. Just an inch, and then she was back down. Up and down, she continued the process now. My cock speared into her throat. Her firm grip worked me at the base. Her hand, mouth, and throat worked in perfect unison to create a stirring in my balls. And every time she went back down on me, her hand crashed into my tightening sack, putting more pressure on my delicate jewels.

"Oh god, look at that pretty mouth working its magic. I bet my little guy would just love to empty himself into that tight, warm cum dumpster. Wouldn't you? If only I had a cock of my own, I'd be blowing my load down that slut's little throat every damn day."

What was that?

I barely had time to process. My mother increased the length of her strokes, now bringing my cock head to her lips before forcefully slamming her face back down on my pole. The visual of my cock-wielding aunt fucking my mother's face entered my mind. The fiery, forceful passion they'd display as my mother's golden locks would fly about back and forth as she crammed my aunt's stiff member down into her throat. It was the stuff of cartoon porn and strap-on toys, not real life, but it triggered a fantasy in my mind that often lied dormant. I focused on her warm, savory throat; the same throat in my mind was currently engulfing my own member. It was too much.

I groaned forcefully, my body tensing, straightening, driving my cock up as my mother removed her hand and simply dropped her face down onto my member. My manhood sinking as far back into her throat as it could go as jet after jet of my spunk erupted from deep inside me. I could distinctly feel the fiery warmth of my cum as it shot through my cock and spurted endlessly down my own mother's wanton throat. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered. There was just me, the seed erupting from my balls, and this warm dumpster into which I was depositing it were all that were present in the world.

I lied there; exhausted and spent. I looked around the room, trying to refocus my eyes in the light. Santa looked like he hadn't moved in hours. He was peaceful. He may have been asleep. As I turned towards Aunt Sarah, she smiled lovingly at me. In fact, she looked a bit proud.