Santa is a Pervert

Twat was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse because I had a few too may glasses of eggnog and passed out on the couch in front of the glowing fireplace, candles lit, naked, hair and make up perfect, waiting for my holiday piece of ass to call and wish me a Merry Christmas. I planned to tell him all about the nasty things I was going to do myself while he was on the road in Winslow, Arizona visiting his family for the holiday and then send him pictures of my debauchery on his cell.

I had even brought out a few of my favorite toys for the occasion. Lube, my glass cock in an ice bucket, the ginormous rubber dildo someone I cared a lot about once upon a time bought and a few lengths of rope.

I was having a nice steamy wet dream about my X-rated Christmas Party for One when...THUD!!

Suddenly, I awoke with a fright!

I sat straight up, my heart raced and I tried to focus my vision. I shook my head trying to make sense of what my eyes were telling my half pickled brain they were seeing.

I saw a big-framed man standing in front of the fireplace dusting himself off, long white beard, in a Santa suit and hat, a black bag in his hands. The spectacles he wore on his eyes barely masked the twinkle in his eye as he caught a glimpse of my thin, long frame laid out, the shocked look on my face and all my toys on the cocktail table.

"Santa?" I asked incredulously.

"HO, HO, HO!" The bearded one bellowed.

No one could possibly get around the security system I had in place in my house.

"You really have been a naughty girl, haven't you?" He chuckled and his belly moved like a bowl full of jelly.

My fuzzy mind quickly recalled the events of the evening, searching for any recollection of getting into my medicine cabinet and mixing meds with my festive cocktails. No such luck.

"This can't be real", I thought to myself. I was an intelligent, professional 40-year-old woman. I know Santa doesn't exist. Does he?

His rosy cheeks lifted to his crinkling eyes as his big wide smile turned almost evil. I think I even saw drool drip out of his ruby red lips onto his beard as he spied my full breasts, my chest heaving as my fear intensified, and my eyes growing wide.

Quickly he moved forward to me. He smelled of cookies, winter and another scent I knew but could not place.

He dropped his bag of goodies at my feet and removed his big black belt from his suit.

"Sit up and put your arms behind your back," Santa commanded in a strong, low voice.

Half out of fear, half out of curiosity I complied.

"Oh," I let out softly as I felt his gloved hand touch me for the first time. Santa skillfully wrapped his belt around my elbows behind my back so they were touching each other and continued wrapping it down my forearms to my wrists binding them tightly.

I could not budge my arms. My shoulders felt like they were being ripped apart and my breasts were jutting out helplessly in front of me. My nipples instantly got hard at the feeling of me being bound. The piercings in them sparkled in the firelight.

Santa took one look at me and smiled before he reached down to his bag and pulled out a pair of ankle cuffs.

"Santa has ankle cuffs? Wow, Mrs. Clause is a lucky woman," I thought to myself.

Slowly and carefully Santa placed the cuffs on my ankles and tied one end of the ropes I had out to the ring on each of them. I hate to admit it, but I was starting to get a little wet at this point. Being tied up and helpless has always immensely turned me on.

He then gave me a little shove forcing me to sit back on the couch. He grabbed my right calf and forced it onto the arm of the couch and tied the other end of the rope to the leg of the couch. He did the same with my left.

I was immobile now. My arms bound tightly behind my back, my legs painfully stretched open and secured in a V to display my wide-open pussy that was hovering just at the edge of the couch cushion, my tits sticking straight out. My nipples tingled and my clit thumped. They so wanted attention from the bearded one.

Almost as if on cue, Santa knelt on the floor between my legs. I let out a gasp as his warm mouth touched my right breast. His tongue swirled around my nipple over and over, flicking my piercing as he did. His soft beard tickled me lightly, contrasting with the pain my leg; arm and shoulder muscles were in.

By the time he moved to my left breast I was panting and my pussy was soaking wet. I needed to be fucked and I needed to be fucked right now.

"Please fuck me Santa," I begged in a whisper.

His gloved hand made it's way to my pleading snatch while he was still devouring my tits. His thumb rubbed my clit in small, soft circles while he traced my glistening fuck hole with his finger. He was driving me crazy with his teasing. I wanted him in me in the worst way. It was basic animal instinct taking over my body. I tried to move my pussy to him to no avail. I was bound to tightly.

He started biting my nipples and flicking them harder with his tongue, picked up speed and pressure on my clit and stuck two of his gloved fingers deep in my tight, wet hole. He vigorously moved his fingers in me in a come here motion that drove me to the edge. A great finger fucking always does it for me.

"Oh, Santa you're going to make me cum," I cried out and dug the back of my head into the couch, as I grew closer to the Promised Land.

I could feel the burst gaining momentum; I was going to cum harder than I had in a long time. I felt the sensation start at my toes and work it's way up my legs as my pussy walls relaxed then tightened up to let loose what was sure to be the mother of all orgasms.

Then it all stopped!

He took his hand out of me; his face off me stood up and took a step back.

I was open mouth breathing and desperate to cum. A million thoughts ran through my head. I couldn't under stand why he stopped when I was obviously enjoying myself so much.

"Did you ask permission to cum little girl?" Santa asked with wickedness.

"No, Santa I did not," I replied sheepishly.

I was familiar with this game. I had once dated a guy for entirely too long that turned me on to it. He was sexy, great looking, smart, a big guy, blue collar, sweet and oh, so much fun. He was everything a girl like me could want. Unfortunately, several other woman thought so too and he encouraged that by dicking them all.

I stuck it out as long as I could before it got too hard to face myself in the mirror in the morning due to the lack of respect given me by the both of us. It was really a shame, we were really good together and he was pretty much my best friend. He could have lived out every fantasy he ever had with me, hell I may have looked the other way at his indiscretions if he had not been so blatant. I never in a million years would have cheated on him or been disloyal in anyway, but I guess I just wasn't enough for him.

My good love could not save him. One morning I ripped my own heart out and broke it off and never let myself look back. He has a lot to learn about being a Southern Gentleman. It is more than being second in line at the buffet; it is about being discreet and protecting a lady from emotional pain and public and private humiliation.

"For even thinking of doing so will bring you punishments," Santa barked.

"Yes, Santa. I understand. I won't even think about it again without permission," I stammered with tears in my eyes. It is not easy getting yelled at by Santa.

He reached into his bag and produced a whip. My eyes grew so large they felt like they were bulging out of my head.

CRACK!

Without warning, the tail of the whip landed squarely on my right nipple with Santa's expertise.

"Uuuunnnnnnggghhh," I cried out as I tried to recoil from the sting.

CRACK! To my left nipple.

"Oooohhhhhh nnnnnnn ooooowwww," I heard myself whimpers as it felt like both of my tits were on fire.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! To both tits, one after the other in quick succession.

"Oooooooowwwwww Fffuuuuuuccckkk," I shrieked as tears started rolling down my face and onto my sore rack now painted with red lines.

I could feel my heartbeat in every line, my tits were throbbing so bad I wanted to hold them and curl into a ball, but I couldn't move. I had no choice but to sit there bound tightly and watch as the whipping continued to the point I thought I might pass out from the adrenaline rush and pain.

Despite the pain that was being inflicted upon me, my denied pussy was getting juicier and juicier. I have always been sick like that. It is not something I can explain. Being uncomfortable and in pain makes me hot. Maybe it is the challenge of withstanding it; maybe it is the challenge of not being in control for a change, maybe it is the reward that always comes at the end. Maybe I am just a pervert too, like Santa.

"Are you going to cum without permission? Are you going to think about cumming without permission?" Santa bellowed.

"No, Sir Master Santa I will not," I replied through my sobs.

He dropped the whip on the floor and grabbed a few ice cubes from the ice bucket. He knelt in front of me again and gingerly traced my welts with the ice cooling them off and numbing them enough to take the edge off.

My breathing started to return to normal and my sobbing subsided as Santa tended to my wounds in such a sweet way.

"Are you ready to sit on Santa's lap and tell him what you want for Christmas?" He asked in a sugary tone.

"Yes, please," I replied as if a trance of some sort, a beaten down character of this scene.

He pulled his pocketknife from his suit and cut my left leg loose. It felt like a long rubber band. My muscles had been pulled so tight for so long I had almost no control over it.

He lifted me up with my right leg still pulled into the splits and tied to the couch, my arms still bound behind me, slid on the couch underneath me and placed me on his lap. My back was to him in a reverse cowgirl fashion.

His lap seemed so inviting, almost familiar. Like I had been there before and more recently than 33 years ago.

He started to caress my sore chest very lightly from behind as I settled in against his strong chest. My nipples came alive again despite their torture, maybe even more so. His contact felt so good. He seemed to know just how I like to be touched.

He ran his gloved hands up and down my body making sure no curve went untouched. In short order he had me panting again, I don't know what it was about this man, but I just couldn't get enough. I needed him in some very strange way.

I needed to feel everything about him and for him to feel everything about me. It seemed very natural and easy.

"What do you want for Christmas little girl," Santa asked as he squeezed my tits.

"I want you to fuck me Santa, really fuck me. That is all I want," I let out before I could actually think about it.

Santa reached in front of us and grabbed the dildo from the table. With one fail swoop, it was in my in my pussy and sunk deep. In and out of me the dildo was rammed. Hard and fast, just the way I like it.

"Oh, Santa....YES!" I exclaimed as I felt a fucking like I had not since I left the Blast From My Past. My fluids dripped out of my pussy as it was being manhandled like it so craved.

When it was apparent I was not going to last much longer without cumming, Santa removed the dildo from my liquefied box and placed it on the table in front of me. It sparkled and shined of my nectar in the radiance of the fire in the fireplace. He grabbed the lube and I heard him squeeze the bottle as I felt the cold slime run down the crack of my ass. It brought a chill to my spine and gave me goose bumps. But I was not prepared for what happened next.

Santa ran his gloved finger up and down my crack, stopping briefly each time at the back door entrance to massage it a bit. All the nerves back there came live.

I had only played with that once on a wedding night of mine and gave it up foolishly thinking we were married and would always be together. What was mine was his for the taking. I only ever offered it up again to The Blast. He seemed very interested sometimes, even bought me a toy for it and we talked about it a lot, but his other girls would always come along and I would loose my faith in him and us and not be so eager to give so much of myself. Sometimes he only seemed to play along like he was interested in it. To me, that was a really special thing to want to offer and do with a man.

But Santa seemed to get off playing with my ass. For the first time I heard his breathing change and him grunt a bit right before he lifted me up, got his cock out of his suit and sat my ass back down on it.

"Oh, Santa!" I exclaimed as his magnificent, hard, throbbing cock entered my ass hole. He was the best gentleman in doing so. He moved into me so slowly, stopping every inch or so and flexing his leg muscles to allow me time to adjust and get used to the idea.

"What do you want for Christmas Little Girl?" Santa whispered in my ear.

He was now fully up my ass. My hole grabbed the root of his dick and held on for dear life.

"I want you to fuck me up the ass Santa," I said with the Jolly Cock in me.

"Do you want me to fuck your pussy at the same time?" My Dirty Santa said.

"Yes, Please My Master Santa," I stumbled, not sure if this was happening for real.

He grabbed the Pyrex out of the ice and promptly sunk it so deep in my pussy I thought my intestines were in danger of being perforated.

OH SHIT! That was cold! But it felt so good in my steaming, hot, wet pussy that needed so bad to cum. I think Santa's specks may have fogged up.

He started to fuck my pussy with the freezing cold glass as my ass was parked on his hard cock.

"Do you like that Little Girl?" Santa asked in a sexy voice, his turn on obvious.

"Oh yes, please fuck me Santa," I pleased as I moved my hips to his motions.

"Do you want me to fuck all your holes at the same time?" Santa asked to my surprise.

"Yes," I paused cautiously, unsure of what he was going to do.

I am very, very dirty girl, but I am a one man woman. I was afraid an elf would pop out of somewhere and expect service.

Abruptly the dildo Santa had fucked me with was shoved in my mouth and violently down my throat as he began pumping his hard cock into my ass and working the Pyrex in and out of my pusssy.

Santa grabbed my tits and squeezed my tits very, very hard the way I like it. His hips moved my ass up and down on his cock and his hand fucked the hell out of my pussy with the glass.

I was being violated three ways at the same time by one man, fucked three ways from Sunday by Santa It could not have been better

I was going nuts. I didn't know which way to move my hips, how to feel or what to do next. I was gagging on the dildo he was shoving down my throat so hard that the tears began to roll again and I felt like throwing up.

My ass was being raped like it never had and my pussy was getting just what it needed. I was so on the verge of coming so big.

"What do you want for Christmas Little Girl?" Santa grunted as he fucked me hard.

"I want to cum Santa. Can I cum please?" I begged as I was trying to hold back and wait for permission.

"Cum NOW!" Santa said breathlessly.

He rammed the dildo so far down my throat my air way was blocked, he grabbed my throat, sunk his cock deep in my ass and the Pyrex felt like it was going to meet the dildo in my throat as I began to cum, and cum and cum.

He came in my ass and began to shake as he did. I had never felt that before. It was always something I had thought about with The Blast. Now it finally happened. It made me miss him a little, but mostly it just made me smile as I pretty much collapsed in front of Santa.

The last thing I remember from that night is him cutting my other leg loose, undoing my arm binds, tucking me in on the couch and kissing me on the forehead before he was gone forever.

The next morning I woke on the couch convinced it was all a dream until I tried to move. My entire body ached, I had pink stripes on my tits, my orifices down yonder had obviously been violated and my throat hurt.

I sat up and that is when I noticed it. A present underneath my Christmas Tree that was not there yesterday. It was wrapped beautifully and had a tag on it. I forced myself to get up and hobble over to it. I sat on the floor by the tree, grabbed the gift and looked at the tag.

It read: FROM SANTA

I ripped it open with the fervor of a seven year old that has never gotten a Christmas present before.

I gasped and started to cry when I saw what it was. It was my very own Sex Swing.

Something I had always wanted. There was only one person on the face of the Earth that knew I wanted one of these so badly. We had talked about it on a few occasions. That person was the Blast From My Past. Did I really manage to get into his heart without knowing it before I walked away?

Or was it really from Santa? They say Santa knows everything. Was he real or were they both the same person?

I never knew the answers to any of these questions and I never saw either one of them again. My Sex Swing sits in a closet unused to this day, but every time I think about it I smile. To know that someone cared enough to try to surprise me with one of my deepest, darkest fantasies will always mean the world to me.

As with every Christmas since, I will be waiting naked on Christmas Eve for my Santa to arrive and take me away from my real world for the evening.

Merry Christmas To All And To All A Good Night!