Here Cums Santa Claus
written by:
moodcouple

I was in Council Fucking Bluffs Iowa of all places, and it hadn't been a good night by any standards. The bitches were in rare form. (You do know all my reindeer are female, don't you? Just think what that means. Comet was constantly showing off her big teats while Cupid was screwing all the husband-deer. And you can't imagine what it's like when they're all PMSing in late December. What a nightmare.) The bitch-deer were getting along worse than they had for years, and Rudolph was home with some kind of social disease he wouldn't talk about but I think was why no one was having anything to do with Vixen.

Anyway, the deer-cunts dumped me (sorry about that ladies, but the old elf gets a little less jolly when he's dropped on his head) on some kind of slate roof and told me to play with myself while they worked things out and came back for me. At that point I didn't care if they ever came again. Cumming was too good for them.

It was colder than a witch's tit out there on the roof. ("How cold is that?" you might ask. Well, the last time I was with Glinda my mouth got stuck to her boob and it took three of Santa's helpers rubbing her down with Ben-Gay to warm her up enough for me to get loose - and then I had to explain to Mrs. Claus why I didn't have any skin on my tongue. I don't think she completely believed that pump handle story either.) The deer-chicks (Is that PC enough for you?) did leave me my bag and I decided I might as well slip down the old chimney to get warm and see if there was anything besides cookies and milk waiting for me. Just once I'd like to find a nice glass of cognac or rum instead of that damn cow-juice. I eat so many cookies I'm afraid I'll get diabetes. Have these kids never heard of caviar? Or at least a little smoked salmon for an old man? Good for the prostate, I've heard, not that I'll ever find out in Council Fucking Bluffs Iowa. Burnt cookies and curdled milk are standard fare there. I'm surprised the little shits aren't all sick with ptomaine.

After I'd cleared my head a little bit (try slamming your noggin into an andiron?) I looked around and recognized the place. I see a lot of living rooms so it isn‘t often I can tell one from another, but this one looked familiar. As the cobwebs cleared it came to me. The previous year I'd been in there trying to decipher Little Bubba's handwriting (I couldn't tell if he meant he wanted Silly Putty or Sally's Pussy) when I'd heard a man and a woman in the other room arguing. He said something about her screwing every man but him and she said that was because he wasn't really a man. I dropped off a couple of GI Joes (and a Barbie just in case) and skedaddled up the chimney before I got involved in a nasty scene.

In that room again I looked around and didn't see any sign of a husband - or kids for that matter. After deciding I knew the rest of the story and didn't need to drop any toys off I started searching for a special Santa treat . I'd just located the liquor cabinet when I heard the door open. Looking up I saw a tall, shapely woman wearing only a sleepy expression. My first thought on seeing her was that if Donder and Blitzen had headlights like hers Rudolph would be looking for a job.

As I looked her over the woman said, "Who are you, you little pervert? And quit staring at my boobs."

"I'm the Jolly Christmas Elf," I told her, "And it just looks like I'm staring at your boobs because you're so much taller than me that's all I can see. I can look down here instead," I said, directing my gaze to her furry crotch.

"That's okay, just try to look into my eyes. What do you mean the Christmas Elf? Aren't elves green or something?"

"Depends on what they eat. Give ‘em a bad fish and they turn green real quick. But I'm not that kind of elf. I'm a Santa Claus. You know, the fat guy who brings you presents."

"No shit. Well my boyfriend will be here any minute with all the present I need, and you better be gone or he'll stomp you like a bug. How'd you get in here anyway?"

"You really are as dumb as you look," I said (I was getting a little more than put out by her attitude, even if she was naked.) "I came down the chimney of course. Just like I always do."

"Well haul your fat little ass back up that chimney - right now." I know when I'm not wanted, so I turned around and looked up the chimney. "Well, get up there," she told me.

"I can't," I said. "I'm up."

"No you're not. You're down and you need to go up - that chimney."

"I can't. I told you I'm up," I said in the voice that I save for children who are a little slow. "Let me show you," I said as I turned around.

"Holy Shit! Is that what I think it is?" She was referring to Woody, who'd appeared when I was looking at her tits.

"Yeah, and it's up. When it gets up I won't fit in most chimneys, like this one for instance."

"What's Santa doing with a rod that sized in his briefs? I thought if Santa had a cock at all it would be a miniature version." (Did I tell you she was a dumb as a box of rocks.)

"I know, everyone thinks a little guy should have a little weiner, but it's just not true. It's my job to bring boys and girls what they want for the holidays, and quite a few of the older girls want something very special - like this."

She just nodded at that, still staring at the special present I carried around for the naughty girls (it goes without saying I'm talking about girls over age eighteen). Then she reached down and grabbed me through my pants. "Holy Shit!" she said again (not very original, this chick).

"What about your boyfriend?" I asked. I was a little concerned with that ‘stomp you like a bug' thingie.

"I was just kidding about that," she said. "Can I see it. In the flesh, I mean."

I think she was asking just to be polite because by that time she was on her knees in front of me opening my belt buckle. Quickly she pulled my pants down. Grabbing Woody with her hands she said, "It's so goddam big I can barely get my fingers around it. Let me see if I can get my lips around it." Since we'd cleared up the boyfriend issue I wasn't going protest. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and plunged it over the big mushroom on the end of my stick. She did manage to get four or five inches in her mouth before she started gagging, which is better than most chicks do.

She may have been from Council Fucking Bluffs Iowa, but the girl knew what to do with her tongue when a guy sticks his dick in her mouth. After letting her try to milk me with her lips a while I said, "I know a place that thing will fit in a lot better than your esophagus. Lay down and I'll show you."

"You lay down first," she answered. If you're gonna use a tool that big on me I want to be in control, you could split me wide open if you're not careful." I couldn't argue with that logic so I got down on my back, holding the big fellow straight up. Miss Fucking Iowa straddled me, giving me a great view of the feminine slit she carried between her legs. She lowered herself until the big bulb was nuzzling her lips, then she used her fingers to pull them open and slowly sank down on the little guy's big guy. Tight. That cunt was goddam tight, and it felt good to an old elf.

After she was completely nestled on my hips, and I was buried so deep in her I thought I could feel her backbone, she started rocking back on forth. "Ohmygodohmygod," she mumbled, her eyes rolling back in her head as she opened her first present of the evening.

She had rock-and-rolled her way through at least two more presents when the old elf decided it was his turn to get jolly. Grabbing her hips I jerked her back and forth getting maximum use out of her tiny opening. "Oh Rudolph, here it cums," I told her. Then she screamed as I delivered her biggest present of the night by blasting a stream of holiday juice into her snatch. When we were both completely spent she collapsed forward on me, incidentally nearly poking out my eye with one of her big titties. I pushed her off me and pulled my pants back up. Luckily she'd passed out after that last present so she didn't notice that the goo oozing out of her had a distinctly green tint (I mentioned I was an elf, didn't I?).

Once I had emptied my bag, Santa's weiner shrank to a more manageable size and I was able to fit back into the chimney. I made it to the roof where the sweet little reindeer (a nice piece of ass does improve a guy's attitude.) were waiting with my sleigh. Back aboard I grabbed my book and started looking for our next destination. "Is that the list of good little boys and girls," Dancer asked (she was pretty new and didn't know the true spirit of Santa).

"No silly," Prancer said. "He keeps that data on his laptop. The big book is the one with the addresses of all the naughty girls."

"Come on, ladies, our next stop is waiting," I told them. "Set a course for Grand Fucking Island Nebraska. I've got a special delivery for Mary Beth."