I am diabolical. Brilliant, but diabolical. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I don't have anyone else to tell now. I mean, why go through all the effort if you're the only one who gets to enjoy it. You see, my plan was perfect and if it wasn't for old Saint Nick, I would have gotten away with it. Well, I guess I should tell you the story first, its long and I don't have much time left now.
It all started nineteen years ago. My wife and I had recently been wed and were living a happy life. There were no complaints from either of us. We made great money, had great sex, and were both young and attractive. That was the life. There was no question in my mind that I was content. It kept going that way, until one year, we went home for Christmas. Although my wife wouldn't find out, it was the strangest Christmas that I ever could have imagined. I found out that my sisters were having sex with my father.
Honestly, it was a complete accident. I just couldn't sleep one night with all the excitement of the holidays and went downstairs to get some milk. To my dismay, there were my two beautiful older sisters having sex with my father. They did it for hours, the three of them. He was all dressed up in his red velvet Santa costume for the season and they were busy playing with the package he had for them. My oldest sister, Lucy, was sitting on his head, and Sally, the next in line, was crouched between his fur covered boots giving him a blowjob to celebrate the season.
I had never really thought about my sisters that way or the fact that they might do it with my dad. But honestly, after I saw it, I could think of nothing else. I never could bring myself to approach my sisters. They were just so beautiful and so out of reach for someone like me. I was just little Harold. Little Harold Angel. I screwed my wife for the next three weeks straight in my Santa costume. That weirded her out a bit, but she was glad for the constant lay. Seriously, I had never been so horny. But any time I caught sight of that crimson red, all I could think of was Sally's fingers diddling in her pussy while she gave my dad head. It was an addiction. Three months later, I got my wife pregnant with twins.
Of course I didn't know right when I got her pregnant that she was pregnant. We found out in July that we would have twin girls and that they would be born the day after Christmas. We were so thrilled. Christmas babies, twins no less! No parents spent more time preparing for their coming children then we did. And our sex was great even then.
On Thanksgiving, we went home to visit my family. Everyone was there- Mom, Dad, Lucy, and Sally. By this point, my wife was having cravings, didn't want sex, and was sick or tired most of the time anyways. To shorten that line of thought, I was horny as hell. And there were my sisters; indirectly responsible for my children's birth and oh, so attractive. One night, after my parents and my wife had gone to bed, I sat up with them.
I had a little bit too much eggnog to drink that night, but the mistake was well worth the reward. I blurted out my obsession with them and their Santa sex session with my dad. Too my dismay they both sincerely replied that it had not been dear old dad, but Saint Nick himself. And they really believed it! I could read my sister's like a book and they really believed it!
At first the two of them just recounted their encounters with Santa Claus every Christmas Eve since they turned eighteen. But as they drank a little more, they grew a little more explicit. And more horny. And I followed right along. By the time they were talking about how long and hard his dick was, I had my penis in hand and was eagerly stroking off to their dirty gestures and recollections of their experience. The most exciting part about it was how innocent and naïve they were. They still believed that Santa was real and that at midnight on Christmas Eve, he would come down the chimney and give them a taste of his package. Roughly around that point in time, Lucy noticed my penis was in my hand and brought it to Sally's attention. The two little vixens decided that they would give me an early present since I had been so good the past year. I can still remember as clear as day what happened next.
Sally leaned into Lucy and kissed her softly on the lips. Her hands would move to cradle her face in her hands as their tongues danced freely with the other. I was enchanted as I watched the seeming impossible and fantastical unfold before me. Sally played the aggressor in this game, her hands slipping inside Lucy's light white blouse and I could hear her breathing switch to a quicker pace. Sally's nipples were obviously hard through her shirt and they were not lonely for long. Let me tell you, there is nothing hotter than watching twin sisters making out, especially when they are your twin sisters! Sally was obviously rearing to go and she quickly went to work on Lucy's buttons until her top hung loosely off her shoulders. I couldn't believe that Lucy had gone the whole night without a bra. But now, with her naked skin glowing warmly beneath the soft kitchen lights, there was no denying it. Sally lowered her head to our sister's teat and slowly began to suckle it. Her slurping was loud and quite excited. Lucy's head lulled backward and her mouth hung open as her thighs spread apart, urging Sally to focus on other aspects of her anatomy.
She did not have to wait long as Sally slipped from her chair and hiked Lucy's black skirt high upon her waist. No panties either! Let me tell you, by this point, I was close to bursting. Two of Sally's fingers disappeared into the perfectly shaved lips of Lucy's pussy and began to eagerly fuck in and out. Lucy was writhing in her chair, little moans and groans slipping out of her mouth and into the air. Soon Sally's tongue joined the attack upon her twat and my nymphomaniac sisters engaged in some intense oral action. I was nearing my own orgasm as was Lucy. She had locked her legs behind her twin's head to keep her mouth from breaking contact with her sensitive folds. Lucy looked towards me and signaled me closer with a single red painted finger. I leapt from my chair, my penis quite stirring and approached Lucy's blonde coifed head. As soon as I was close, she pulled my penis into her mouth and swallowed me whole. My sister was quite the deep-throater and she eagerly sucked my dick to its full length. Still Sally strummed her tongue over Lucy's pussy until she could hold back no longer.
In a convoluted spasm Lucy inhaled sharply and let out a long low cry. The hot air and vibrations through my cock sent me over the edge with her. I sprayed load after load of my fluids into her mouth until there was nothing left to spray. When I was finished she pulled free of my cock with a little pop and a dribble of my semen. Sally slid back up Lucy's body and they exchanged their brother's cum from mouth to mouth until there was nothing left. I slumped to the floor exhausted and overwhelmed by the magic I had just witnessed. From that day on, I promised myself on that kitchen floor, I would raise my girls to believe in Santa Claus, and when the day came I would make them believe!
The next four weeks would pass in a strange chaotic realm of new experiences, none of them as positive as my Thanksgiving night. My daughter's were born at eleven o'clock on Christmas Eve in our local hospital. For the time being, my obsession with Santa Claus was sidelined. I would remember it on New Years when I got a call from a drunk and crying sister. (I am not sure which one it was, even to this day). Apparently Santa had not shown, and had left them each a lump of coal in their stocking. They both blamed me for getting them drunk and tricking them into putting on an incestuous show. We never would speak after that.
Year after year would pass in a whirlwind of activities. My wife became a mother first and a lover second and our relationship struggled. I was oblivious to the changes in her, taking too much time for work and too little time for her. She would disappear into a snowy night on Christmas Eve with the elf from the local mall's North Pole picture workshop. They had met the year before when she had taken our daughter's to get their pictures taken. Apparently they had been having an affair ever since. That was when my daughters turned nine. It seemed as if every Christmas brought bad news after that. My parents would die on Christmas day, one year apart, over the next two years. My sister Lucy would commit suicide the following year and Sally the year after. Five years of depression ensued for me and no promise of relief, other than the fact that I didn't have anyone left who could die.
It was about that time that I learned my daughters still believed in Santa Claus. Their names were Joy and Rosie and they were growing up to be the cutest little buttons ever. At first, in my mind at least, there were no intentions behind sneaking around downstairs in my Santa Claus costume. I knew of a few years in which they would come down and peak at the old man who brought them their gifts. Their silly little giggles would alert me of their presence. So year after year I would creep from the closet beside the fireplace and would unload my large bag of toys for their birthday and Christmas. Then I would creep back into the pantry and make pitter patter noises on the wall until I heard them slink back to their room, content that Santa had come again.
About six months before their eighteenth birthday, during their graduation ceremony, I remembered my long lost promise to myself. Inadvertently (it wasn't intentional, I swear), I had fulfilled the bulk of the work necessary to carry it through. They were die hard Santa enthusiasts and as far as I could tell, completely naïve to the fact that I was the man in the red suit creeping around at Christmas time. For the next six months I would have a constant erection.
As the fateful day drew near, I readied the preparations for Christmas Eve. I ate lots of junk food and put on about thirty pounds. I hid it beneath increasingly ill-filled suits and sweatshirts. I purchased numerous costumes until I settled on one that was very realistic with genuine sheep's wool for sleeve and collar lining and a gold thread that wove its way up the crimson velvet sleeves. I bought two bottles of a white hair dye from a costuming shop and got a pair of big black leather boots from a riding supply store. It was perfect!
The night before Christmas Eve, I left two packages under the tree. Inside were identical naughty Mrs. Claus' outfits. They were see-through teddies with lacy thongs and fur lining at the collar and at the base. I made sure to write on the note card that the gifts were from Santa, for Santa's little girls. I couldn't wait to unwrap my daughter's nubile young bodies in them. The next morning the packages were gone and stashed away, so they would not have to show their daddy what dirty ole Santa had given them for their eighteenth birthday. Little did they know that I had a merry old dirty Christmas planned.
