|
Merry Xmas
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Merry Xmas
This is a true Christmas story, and like most such, it happened
some years ago. We were fifteen and boy crazy. My friend Louise was
a real tease, always skirting on the edge of trouble. She was a
very well built blonde, a cheerleader, and a devil. I was a skinny
red- head, not as devillish as she, at least not outwardly, but
usually she was able to talk me into going along with whatever
trouble she was going to make.
One day shortly before Christmas, we were in one of the large
stores, doing our shopping and boy- watching. Louise was wearing a
mini and sweater, and I squeezed myself into the tightest pants I
had, and a print blouse. We really thought we were hot stuff.
The store had a Santa Claus, who listened to the little kids
sitting on his knee. We passed the display and Louise looked for a
minute and said, "Santa looks bored, doesn't he?" She got that
devillish look in her eye and said, "What do you say we liven
things up a little for him? Look, there's nobody in line, now."
"What do you have in mind?" I asked suspiciously.
"Aw, come on," she said, grabbed my hand and led me into the
booth. As usual, I went along. Louise sat on Santa's left knee, and
I sat on his right.
"Hi Santa, honey," Louise began, curling his fake beard around a
finger.
"Hey, aren't you two a little old to be sitting on Santa's lap?"
he asked, in a younger sounding voice than I expected.
"I don't think so," Louise said, tickling his ear. I was warming
to the idea by now, so I put an arm around his neck and nuzzled his
other ear. He was wearing a nice cologne. I lifted a corner of the
fake beard, and saw he was a good-looking and thirty-ish. He put
his arms around our waists a little self- consciously, and asked,
with a twinkle in his eye, "Have you been good girls this year?"
Louise giggled and I answered, "Oh, yes, Santa. Very good."
She was pressing her ample bosom against Santa and wiggling on
his knee very suggestively. I noticed Santa's hand had slid slowly
down from my waist, and was now parked somewhere between my hip and
my rump. Louise was whispering in his ear, I couldn't hear exactly
what, something about his sliding down her chimney Christmas eve.
Santa was beginning to sweat under the beard, and I felt something
new pressing on my leg.
"Louise," I whispered, "Guess what Santa has!" Catching the
wicked mood, I rubbed my leg back and forth on the object in
question, and wiggled my rump.
"Um, what do you girls want for Christmas?" he asked, a little
huskily. We giggled. "Something long and thick," Louise said
wickedly.
I began to get a little scared. "We better go, Louise," I said.
"Um. Yeah, OK. Bye, Santa!"
Santa chuckled. A real chuckle, not the fake "Ho, ho," for the
kids. "Wait. I'm going on my lunch break soon. You girls come back
in about an hour. Santa will have a present for you both."
"OK," Louise called, as we walked out of the booth.
"You're not really going back," I said.
"Sure, why not? There's hundreds of people in the store. What
can he do?"
We walked around, and an hour later we were back at the booth. I
was scared, but Louise talked me into going. The gate was shut, but
Santa was inside fussing with the props, getting ready for the
afternoon crowd.
"Hi girls," he said. "I was afraid you might not come back. You
made my day, maybe my whole week! So I bought you each a present."
He looked up and down the aisle quickly, then handed two
packages across the gate. They were neatly wrapped with a little
pink bow. He whispered, "I wouldn't put them under the tree,
however! Now, please, get lost before I get in trouble, OK?"
We thanked him and hurried off. "What do suppose it is?" I asked
Louise. "Gee, I don't know. Lets go to the soda fountain and open
'em."
We found a booth, ordered cokes, and furtively unwrapped the
packages. He had gotten us each a big pink vibrator!
|
|
