Maybe There is a Santa Claus

***All characters are over 18 and are fictional. Any resemblance to any real-life persons or situations is purely coincidental.

...

ONE WEEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE

Paul had been home for winter break for a little more than a week now. As much fun as he was having in his first semester at college, it was good to be home again. He used the time to catch up with his old friends, spend time with his mother, and get his Christmas shopping done early so he wouldn't become one of those last minute shoppers going crazy over not being able to find the gifts they wanted because they waited until the last minute.

Other than that, he was spending a lot of time in his room playing video games. He was playing with his friends online who were also in the comfort of their homes playing their favorite game series, "Galaxy Mega Wars VI: Battle for the Orion Nebula." They were excited for part VII of the series that had come out recently and been sold out for weeks in advanced sales. They found some on eBay being sold at five times the regular price but held off buying it because they were hoping that someone in their family would get it for them for Christmas.

When Paul was done, he walked out of his room and headed straight to the kitchen to get something to eat. There, he found his mother and her best friend, Sandra, having coffee together. Sandra was there to drop off a couple of Christmas gifts for them both, and Cathy gave her a couple to take home as well.

"About time you came out of your man cave," said his mother, Cathy. "Are you even aware that it's almost 3 p.m. and you've been gaming ever since breakfast this morning?"

"I am aware of the time, mom," said Paul. The truth was, he thought it was noon, not 3 p.m. Even he couldn't believe he lost that much track of time gaming.

"How's it going, college boy?" Sandra asked. "Dating any cute sorority girls?"

"I've done alright," he replied.

"That means he's getting laid all the time," Sandra said to Cathy.

"I'm sure he is."

He didn't want to disappoint them with the truth that he was still a virgin. He just let them be happy, thinking he might be a stud in college.

"I bet you all the college girls are after you," said Sandra. "I can't blame them; look at how sexy you are."

Sandra was always very flirtatious. She was often compared to Samantha from the show "Sex and the City." She kind of looked like her being an older, blonde woman with similar lips as Kim Cattrall. The only advantage she had over the Samantha character was her big fake tits that she got after her divorce several years ago.

"Come on, Sandra. Knock it off," said Cathy.

"What? I'm just saying he's very good looking, you know that."

"Yes, I know. He's a very handsome young man."

Paul was trying to stay humble as they were talking about him like this. He was 19, just under 6-feet tall, and kept in good shape. He wasn't a bodybuilder, but he had a good amount of muscle on him that helped women notice him. He only wished that could lead him to having sex but it just wasn't happening for him.

"Yeah, and we both know where he got his sexy good looks from," Sandra said as she winked at Cathy.

"Oh, come on, Sandra," said Cathy, trying to act humble.

Cathy was 44 but looked a little younger. She was about 5'6", had long chestnut hair, a slim body with perfect 34D breasts that stayed up pretty well for a woman her age. Her ass had gotten bigger over the years but she worked hard at the gym to keep it from getting any bigger and was now at a size that some of her previous boyfriends always enjoyed getting their hands on. She had overheard a few guys at the gym refer to her as a MILF when they didn't think she was listening. She liked hearing that about herself and knowing that there are some young hot guys out there thought she was still hot enough to fuck.

"I'm just telling the truth, and don't act like you don't like hearing how sexy you are," said Sandra. "When I got my new tits, I wanted them to be just as big as yours. Paul, don't you think your mother is sexy and has nice tits?"

Cathy started laughing and blushing from embarrassment. Paul was also a little embarrassed; he never thought he'd ever be asked a question like that. He did think his mother was an attractive woman, and of course, he noticed his mother had big breasts, it was hard not to. She sometimes like to wear tight shirts and show off some cleavage; he was always getting a show with her. He wasn't going to say any of this to Sandra so he came up with a good response that might end the conversation.

"She's a very beautiful woman," he said.

"Thank you, honey," said Cathy and giving him a big smile. "Now changing the subject back to you, is there a special young lady at college you're interested in?"

"Not at the moment," he replied.

"But you are at least dating in college, aren't you?" Cathy asked. "That's a good time to meet someone. That's how I met your father."

"Of course, I did date a few girls," he replied. "It just never last long enough to go anywhere."

The truth was, there was a girl he was dating throughout the semester and it didn't end well for him. Her name was Jenny, they met on their first day of Spanish class. They were both already fluent in Spanish after taking it for four years in high school and were just taking the class to get an easy A for their language requirement course. He asked her out after a few days and they were inseparable throughout most of the semester.

They were also both virgins and Paul was more than willing to wait for her to be ready. His mother always told him that his first time should be with someone who cares about him as much as he cares about her and he felt that way with Jenny. They did do other things together until she was ready to help keep their sexual urges in check. She was giving him plenty of blowjobs and he fingered her pussy plenty of times. She was also the first girl he ever gave oral sex to, and he found that he was very good at it.

He didn't tell his mother he was seeing her because he didn't want to bring her up until after he came back for winter break. He wanted to be absolutely sure things were going well between them before he brought up that he had a girlfriend.

But when they met up after Thanksgiving, she broke it off with him. She confessed that she reconnected with her ex-boyfriend over the weekend and that she was in love with him. Adding insult to injury, she confessed that she had lost her virginity to him over the weekend as well. He was already disappointed to hear that she was leaving him for another man, he could've handled that, but hearing that they slept together was like getting punched in the stomach.

He was miserable for the next couple of weeks until he had to go back home for winter break. During that time not only have he and Jenny stopped talking to each other but she has also cut him off on social media. It was his fault, he was liking too many of her pictures on Instagram at 3 a.m. and it must've freaked her out.

Paul didn't stop there, he made a fake Instagram account to follow her. He realized cyberstalking your ex-girlfriend was not healthy, but he just couldn't resist seeing what she was up to. Jenny loved accounts where people shared art photos and inspirational messages. Accounts like that were easy to fake; he just downloaded a bunch of similar pics from google and uploaded it to his fake account. Once the account looked real enough, he sent her a follow request and she accepted and was now able to see what she was up to online.

Her most recent photos were of her around campus and at a few parties. Then he saw the photos of her boyfriend, a tall, muscular guy who was definitely several years older than her. He had a tattoo sleeve on his right arm, a beard, and long hair that was tied back in a manbun. After seeing this guy, Paul realized making that fake Instagram account was a bad idea. It was better that he just didn't know what this guy looked like.

After Paul made his snack he sat with his mother and Sandra for a while. Eventually, Sandra did move on to other topics that weren't sexual in nature. After Paul was done eating, Sandra had to leave, and they escorted her to the front door, where they said their goodbyes and finally left.

"There's something wrong with that woman," said Cathy when she was sure Sandra was far enough away to say it. "Now come and help me finish the decorations; I've been waiting for you to come out of your room to get this done."

Cathy had started the decorations before Paul came back from college but hadn't had the chance to get it all done because of work and how the holiday had been keeping her busy. Mostly, she just needed help decorating the tree, she could handle the rest. She intentionally kept the tree bare this long so she could decorate it with her son. She liked the little traditions they do together especially for the holidays.

As they decorated the tree. Paul couldn't help thinking about all the things that Sandra had said when she was visiting. Besides the comments she made about him. the ones that got him the most were the things she said about his mother. She kept calling her sexy and making references to her body, especially her breasts.

He had always thought his mother was a sexy woman. He had seen her plenty of times in a bikini in the summers and had occasionally seen her in her underwear over the years. She had a great body with a beautiful face, and he had to admit that he did feel an attraction to her. When he was younger, he did find himself occasionally jerking off to the thought of having sex with her. He felt guilty about doing that each time it happened but he still found himself doing it again nonetheless. He eventually grew out of that phase but it was sometimes still in the back of his mind.

Besides how attractive he thought she was, she was the best person in his life. She had raised him on her own since he was five after his father died. She had helped him do well in school, gave him great advice when he needed it, taught him how to play the guitar, how to drive and even how to shave. Mostly importantly, she taught him how to be a good person and how to treat others well.

Thinking about it, he kind of wished that he could meet a woman just like her. Some people say that men always find a girl who's just like their mother and some people are scared of something like that happening. But he wouldn't mind if he did find someone just like her because that might be the best kind of relationship he could find.

When they were done decorating the tree, Paul went back to his room for some more gaming time until his mother called him for dinner. Cathy made a new pasta recipe that she found online, and Paul absolutely loved it. He wasn't surprised, cooking was another thing she was good at. He often thought she would've been successful as a professional chef instead of working in pharmaceutical sales.

When they were done eating, Paul offered to clean the dishes. She tried to insist on doing it herself, but he insisted that she had done enough for him since he got home and wanted to pull his weight around the house and she finally relented. As he began scrubbing the tougher stains on the dishes, Cathy was about to leave the kitchen when she suddenly remembered something she wanted to talk to him about.

"Don't forget to write out your letter to Santa," she said.

Paul stopped what he was doing and gave her an annoyed look.

"Are you serious?" he asked. "I thought we agreed to end this tradition last year."

Ever since Paul was about four, his mother made him write letters to him every year as a tradition. When he was very young, she had to write it for him based on what he wanted to say. When he was old enough to read and write he wrote the letters himself in a few badly written but adorable sentences. When he was old enough to write better, that the age when he was old enough to learn that there was no Santa, but he kept up with the tradition for his mother's sake. Eventually he got way too old for that tradition and wanted it to stop.

"This would be the last time, I swear," she said.

"Mom, please, I'm way too old for that stuff," he pleaded with her.

"I know, but this may be the last time we get to do this."

"I'm sorry, but it's getting a little ridiculous. Plus, I'm sure you're somehow reading my letters to get me what I want."

"How am I supposed to know what you write after what we do with those letters?" she asked.

The tradition they had was a little different from what most families do when writing letters to Santa. Most would put the letters in the mailbox and address them to the North Pole. Paul's family would do something similar except instead of putting the letters in a mailbox the letters would be thrown in the fireplace. When he was younger, his mother told him the ashes would fly to the North Pole and reassemble in Santa's mailbox, and that's how he received them.

For years, Paul assumed that his mother somehow read those letters because he would often end up getting what he asked for. Not all the time, but enough to make him suspicious about her accuracy. It was one thing when he was younger and she would write the letters for him, or when he was old enough to write them himself but she would put the letters he wrote in the envelope, he was sure that was how she knew what to get him. But when he got older, and she still insisted on that tradition, he would seal the envelope himself and watch as his mother tosses the letters in the fireplace, but somehow he still managed to get what he wanted, at least most of the time. He couldn't figure out how she did it, but he was sure she was somehow reading those letters.

"So, how can I read them if you see that they're being burned?" she asked. "You're also the one who personally seals the envelopes and throws the letters in the fireplace."

"I know, it's a mystery to me," said Paul. "I just know somehow, you're reading them. How else can it explain how good you are getting me the right Christmas gifts?"

"What's the mystery, it's not that hard to pay attention to details about people you know or do a little online research of what some people want."

"I guess that makes sense," said Paul, after giving it a quick thought.

"Please, can we do this one last time? I know you're too old for it, but I just want this tradition to last just a little bit longer."

She gave him those puppy-dog eyes that were hard for Paul to resist. He didn't want to keep up with this childish tradition, but he didn't want to disappoint her either. He came up with a solution that may benefit both of them.

"Ok, fine," he said. "But promise me this is the last time."

"I promise, it is the last time," she said holding up her right hand as if taking an oath.

"Ok, I'll get to it after I finish the dishes," he said.

"Thank you, honey."

She was about to leave the kitchen again before she stopped to say one last thing.

"And please write something real for that letter," she said. "I'm not sure if you've been taking this tradition seriously the last few years and just writing gibberish or giving me an envelope with a blank piece of paper in it."

"I always take it seriously, even though I think I'm getting too old for it," he assured her. "I have thought about faking it in the past, but I do write out something for those letters. I feel guilty if I don't actually write anything."

"Thank you," she said, finally leaving the kitchen.

He smiled and shook his head. He couldn't believe that at 19 years of age, he was still going to be writing a letter to Santa. But he did promise his mother he'd do it, and it was going to be for the last time, so it was no big deal if he did it again this year.

When he was done with the dishes, he went to his room to change into his pajamas, which consisted of flannel pajama pants and an old t-shirt. He then sat at his computer, opened a blank word document, and began to think of what he should write.

He made several drafts of his letter but kept deleting them because he had trouble writing what he wanted to say. There were only one or two things he wanted for Christmas but felt he should write more for this letter. He promised his mother he would write a letter and would feel guilty if he didn't put a little effort into it.

There was a notification on his phone and he saw it as an Instagram post from his ex-girlfriend, Jenny. He forgot he left his fake Instagram account on. He opened the notification and saw a picture of Jenny in a very skimpy bikini, sitting in a hot tub. He heard from a shared friend of theirs that she was going skiing with some friends at a resort before seeing her family's place for Christmas after hearing about it from a friend of his who was dating one of Jenny's friends. He didn't think he'd be seeing a picture like this and was missing her again.

The post was a series of pictures that he had to swipe on to see the rest. The next few were of her and her other friends in the hot tub wearing bikinis, which didn't surprise him much because they were just hanging out at a resort and having some fun. But the rest of the pictures were unsettling for him; they were of her and that guy she left him for. He was all over Jenny, and in the last couple of pictures; they were kissing and in one picture he was grabbing her breast.

"Fuck!" he said loudly, then worried that his mother might have heard him say that.

He got so mad that he tossed the phone away on the floor, not caring if it will get damaged it or not. After he calmed down, put his focus back into the letter. The situation with Jenny inspired him, and he realized exactly what he wanted to write about.

Dear Santa,

First of all, I haven't been entirely good this year. I did a few things in my first semester as a freshman that I probably shouldn't have, mostly at frat parties. But it's college and that's when you do dumb stuff, so I hope you understand. But other than that, I have been mostly good. I'm always there for my mother, I do well in school, and rarely get into trouble.

Paul didn't know why he was writing about how good he was this year when it's not really going to be read by an actual Santa. But he let it go and kept on writing.

First, there's a new game out that I'd like to get if you can get it for me. It's called "Galaxy Mega Wars VII: Revenge of Admiral Anarchy." It's out of stock everywhere and I'm not sure my mother can get it, so I'm hoping there might be some actual Christmas magic in this, and maybe you can get this game for me.

The second thing I want is new winter coat. My current one is getting a little old and not keeping me as warm as in the winter as it used to. I could use something new, especially one with a decent number of pockets. I could never find one a decent one with the pockets that I want.

Paul thought about what he was going to write about next. He had an idea of it because of the post he saw from Jenny, but now he was nervous about writing it. It was something he didn't want to even confess to his friends about, but he figured it was a good way to talk about it.

The third thing I want is a very unusual request, but please keep an open mind about what I'm about to ask for. My Christmas wish is to finally lose my virginity.

Paul took a moment to read what he had just put down. He thought it was crazy to ask Santa Claus for this request, but he kept going with it.

I know it sounds crazy, and I can't believe I'm talking about this in a letter to you, but I really want to finally have sex with a woman. I thought it was going to have sex with my ex-girlfriend, Jenny, but that didn't work out because she went back to her douchebag ex-boyfriend.

It would be nice if I had a girlfriend. Maybe you could use your Christmas magic to set me up with someone in one of my classes next year. There's this girl, Julie, who was in my economics class last semester that I always thought was cute, and we got along pretty well, so maybe you can set up something there.