1969: Christmas Orgy

***Author's Note***

This story is a companion piece to my earlier story "1969: Ghost Before the Dawn" and a companion piece to any stories in the "1969" series, and related series.

You don't have to read those to understand this story. They are all meant to make sense individually, as well as together.

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It was an icy December morning in 1969 , but the tan and dark-haired Kitten was sweatered and warm in her lavish Manhattan apartment, smoking weed and cigarettes with her friend Dorothy and "roommate" Betty-Ann, cookies baking in the oven.

Dorothy, whose mess of inky hair was in a low bun, wore a long-sleeved, black turtleneck, and a pair of black stockings up to her thighs. She was otherwise naked from the waist down, bush on full display against her peach skin.

But Betty-Ann was snuggled in wool tweed, light like her skin, with a set of curlers in her caramel locks as she turned through pages of a magazine.

Dorothy took another hit from the bong. "I'm just saying that if a wealthy, generous, older man came down my chimney with his bag sack, I wouldn't be opposed to it."

Kitten laughed. "I don't know. He's a married man who likes to watch people while they sleep and breaks into their houses each year."

"Yeah," Betty-Ann added, "my uncle Harold used to do that and people were always opposed."

The three laughed together.

Kitten blew rings of smoke, which grew unnaturally into a shadowy mess and the women all coughed wildly as something... Someone... appeared out from it.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" a deep, bellowing laugh sounded, "Merrrrry Christmas!"

"It's not even Christmas." Betty-Ann said.

"THAT'S what you're getting from this?" Dorothy choked laughing. "Fucking-- who are you and what are you doing h-"

"SANTA!" Betty-Ann jumped on the large man now before them.

He was certainly dressed like Santa.

"Betty-Ann! You look as precious as ever."

"Oh, don't you start!" she giggled.

Dorothy stood silent for a moment. "Betty-Ann... Do you know him?"

"Of course I do! He's Santa Claus."

"But you, personally, know him?"

"I told you years ago. Don't you remember?"

"...no?"

The caramel-haired woman cackled and gave Santa a long kiss to one of his rosy cheeks.

"Wasn't that the time we did shrooms with your cousin Melody?" Kitten asked.

"Oh yeah... what a hypocrite!" Betty-Ann laughed and further coughed into the dissipating smoke. "Anyway Santa, did you come here to cum here or what?"

"I see what you did there. And, my deer, I wouldn't be opposed to it," he winked at Dorothy.

Soon clothes were just about flying off like reindeer and Dorothy's knees met the floor.

Dorothy circled her tongue around his big chimney-hard candy cane before practically inhaling it, its thickness and length increasing more and more within her trained throat.

She breathed deeply through her nose, taking in his masculine scent, her mouth gripping the Santacock as she quickened faster than eight maids a-milking and played with his jingle bells.

He breathed deeply too, as if calming himself, and pet her inky hair.

Betty-Ann popped bubblegum through her own soft sighs as Kitten sucked upon her clit, almost covering Betty-Ann's intimate curls, which were a natural gradient of caramel into brunette.

Then all of the women's bodies chilled suddenly, ice crystals appearing around the room, breath seen in the cold air.

There was a knock from somewhere in the apartment, but out of view.

Betty-Ann went wide-eyed. "Jack?"

"Oh, hello," a man's voice sounded, "I didn't want to interrupt, but I could just sense the fun, and well... May I join you?"

"Who's Jack?" Kitten asked.

But Dorothy only laughed as she played with Santa's cock, "by the sound of that voice, someone who should've fucked me yesterday."

With giggles and the guffaws of the saint's Ho-Ho-Hoing, the four invited the mysterious Jack in.

A man glided into the room on the ice that appeared beneath him, marshmallow skin ribboned with snow, cloaked in a robe of similar style. His hair was long and white, jeweled here and there with icy pins, and his pupil-less eyes glowed of pure frost.

Dorothy stared a moment. "Is that... Are you fucking Jack Frost?"

"Not yet!" Betty-Ann cheered.

"I am Jack Frost. And who are you? Besides gorgeous, of course."

"My name is Dorothy."

"And that's Kitten!" the caramel-haired woman said, "I'm just so excited you're here!"

She jumped upon him too, wrapping her legs tight around his waist as she barreled kiss after kiss upon the whitest cheeks Kitten had seen since she was mooned by an Irishman.

Dorothy sucked upon Santa's ornaments as she motioned Jack over.

He kissed down her back with sharp cold skin, still somehow feeling deliciously light and gentle, comforting even.

Betty-Ann kissed upon his back, and Kitten on hers, the kissing conga frozen way soon overpowered by the heat of three deeply wet pussies.

It wasn't long before Kitten and her roommate tag-team tongued Jack's frosty cock and snowballs, and Santa was full-blown fucking Dorothy, dramatically thrusting and just staying there before surprise-thrusting again. Grunting and grunting.

"You know what? This isn't working for me." Dorothy pulled the saint out of her and shoved him on his back.

"Oooh, you are a naughty girl."

She rode him fast and hard, gripping his soft, chubby flesh.

"Ho, Dorothy!" he quivered.

"I want to have her too," a thick and chocolate grey-haired woman appeared in a Santa dress.

"Holly!" Betty-Ann ran to the woman.

"Oh, Betty-Ann!" the woman cheered and the two shared a few pecks before turning to the group.

The woman's warm smile soon faded upon seeing the icy man.

"Jack." she seethed,

"Holly."

"Betty!" Betty-Ann shouted.

Dorothy and Kitten glanced back and forth between the icy stares and the slow reveal of a massive strap-on as the apparent Holly raised her red dress, not breaking eye contact with Jack for a moment.

"Yes!" Dorothy started, "Get over here!"

The thick woman slid to Dorothy, who was resting on Santa's cock, and the two coated Dorothy in lube and guided the strap-on in her ass, the young woman riding both Clauses simultaneously.

Kitten rimmed Jack's frozen asshole as Betty-Ann playfully kissed and licked her roommates clit.

A million grunts filled the icy air, Jack jacking off and cumming over and over again.

The Clauses-and-Dorothy trio switched positions, Holly throwing the strap-on to the side as Santa plowed her and Dorothy straddled her face, the younger woman bouncing her ass like her life depended on it.

Betty-Ann rode Jack, who glowed so wildly that you could see it through her body, as Kitten straddled on his face, sliding the three of them close enough to high-five Dorothy, which she did.

Santa thrusted and thrusted and shouted up to the housetop as he shot his massive load deep in his wife's pussy, the old woman moaning into Dorothy.

Dorothy left the now-collapsed couple, wet as the Rio Grande, and stepped carefully across the ice to the other three.

The other women removed themselves from Jack and Jack grabbed onto Dorothy's waist.

"Fuck me," she said.

"I intend to."

He lifted her into the air and onto his massive erection.

Kitten and Betty-Ann held her as she put her ankles on his shoulder and flailed her body about in pleasure, and he kissed her deeply and sweetly, bending her in a display of her surprising flexibility. Or unsurprising, depending on how intimately one knew Dorothy, and the two roommates kissed each other as well.

"Ah, fuck!" Dorothy shouted.

Jack pounded harder and harder and harder, unleashing waterfalls of cum deep within her and not stopping for a second.

"OH YES!" she screamed. "OH FUCKING YES!"

His cum flooded her insides, shooting pheromones sweet enough to ripple orgasms throughout the room.

Every pussy and cock around pulsated in pleasure, hot, wet, and heavy, as Jack thrusted even more.

He thrusted and thrusted until the apartment shook, breaking glass, icing the fire, and lights flickering.

Kitten and Betty-Ann collapsed onto the floor, sending Dorothy with them, Jack panting, but standing.

With the swoop of his hand, Jack absorbed the ice and snow throughout back into himself, and the wrecked apartment sorted back together, even cleaner than it had earlier been.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

"The oven!" Kitten, who was now barely awake, ran her tired self over, but Santa Claus had beaten her to it, directly grabbing the hot tray and shoveling a few warm, melting cookies into his mouth. He'd evidently already helped himself to milk in her fridge, his glass sitting on the counter.

"Delicious!" he said. "Now, I really should be off."

"Wait!"

"Yes, Dorothy?"

"I'm wildly curious. Do you really have a list of who's naughty and nice?"

"Of course!"

"Which list am I on?"

"You're not on any list, silly," he laughed. "I would never gift a Jew."

With a few ho-hos and a Merry-Christmas, he and Mrs. Claus disappeared into the night, but Jack stayed while the cookies actually cooled enough for the women to eat, and talked with them into the evening - including Betty-Ann removing her curlers and Dorothy's rant about some new film with a living snowman. The four laughed and played games, which Jack almost always won.

"You know..." Betty-Ann said, "maybe it is Christmas after all."

Kitten raised a glass of milk and clinked with the others. "Then, merry Christmas to all! And to all a goodnight!"

"And a good-fucking-riddance to Saint Dick!" Dorothy laughed.