Go On Boy, Good Old Santa


Shifting uncomfortably on his lap, grinding her bottom into his groin, Cindy asked again,

"Are you sure that's your belt buckle?"

"Yes, yes," Santa gasped, "Don't worry about it."

"Mmm," Cindy said again, her suspicions, like his 'buckle', rapidly growing...

"Would you like a dolly," asked the lech from Lapland.

Cindy looked at him disdainfully, "I'm a bit old for dolls, you idiot."

"Oh," said Santa, surprised at being called an idiot.

"Got any booze Babe," she asked.

"Well, I've got my Drambuie, for medicinal purposes, you understand."

"Yeah," she said, "give us a slug of that."

"Well, I've only got the one glass," he replied, reluctant to share his favourite tipple.

"That's OK Santa Baby," Cindy said, "Just give me the bottle."

Santa complied, after topping up his glass and taking a swig himself.

"What else have you got for me, Hun," Cindy asked, swigging her first taste of Drambiue.

"Shit," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "This stuff is wicked!"

"I'm glad you like it," Said Santa, "But go easy, it's my last bottle till next Christmas."

"So," Cindy continued, lifting the hapless helpers hat and retrieving the cigar, "Got a light?"

Santa delved deeply into his pocket, shifting his weight as he searched for his cigar lighter.

"Are you sure that's your belt buckle," she asked, for the fourth time.

"Yes, yes," Santa answered, also for the fourth time, "Don't worry about it."

"Got any joints," Cindy asked, giving Santa another, disdainful look.

"Well. there's my hip," Santa answered, "Bloody killing me in this cold dungeon. Arthritis, you know."

"Why do you live here then," Cindy asked.

"Have to, goes with the job, and then there's the reindeer."

"Rain?" Cindy looked at him quizzically, "No, not rain Dear, I'm sure it's snow My Darling."

Santa reached for a tiny bell on the table next to him and, after giving it a shake or two, the queen of the fairies appeared, tiptoeing on the cold ice and wrapping her arms around herself, shivering in her short skirt as she awaited Santa's instructions.

"Ah, Viagra May Dear," Santa said charmingly, "Do be sweet and wave your wand."

The fairy queen responded without question, flicking her wand hurriedly, before retreating to the warmth of Claude's Christmas Kitchen, and the large portion of Yule log that he had promised her.

Cindy, quivering as before, felt a new sensation as Santa unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers to his boots.

"I knew that wasn't really your belt buckle," Cindy said, "But it did make me chuckle, and now, I suppose, you want to fuckle."

Santa grimaced at her poor poetry but, smiling lecherously, broke into verse himself.

"So, if you don't want a dolly, then perhaps, I can interest you in my wally, here My Dear, 'tis near the end of the year, so sit on my lap, and let's be jolly."

It was Cindy's turn to grimace."That's crap Santa," she told him.

"Well, come on Babe, what do you say, are you going to be good and make my day?" Santa asked.

"With dirty old men, I have no sway, but for a smooth talking Santa like you, what can I say?"

"Does that mean you will, or does mean you won't?"

"Did I say I do, or did I say I don't?"

Santa wrinkled his furrowed brow, totally confused by their conversation, her response, however, stretching his imagination and, with grave consternation, felt a strange, but once familiar sensation, and knew that he would rate her, when Cindy asked for a new vibrator.

Cindy looked down at Santa's pulsating pole of impending pleasure, the like of which she'd not had the measure and, with a smile, told him, "Santa Dear, you may take me at your leisure."

The excited old man began to quiver, but did the deed without a dither, hardly able to believe his luck, he was finally having a Christmas fuck!

With much gyrating, he continued mating,
his arthritic hip loudly grating,
this was good, he thought, better than computer dating,
he would, he felt sure, give Cindy his highest rating.

With his hand upon her breast,
Cindy encouraged him to do his best,
And Santa, responding to her prompting,
Found himself not lacking in wanting,
Encouraged by lust and desire,
His blood pressure rose alarmingly higher!

Giggling girlishly, she squeezed his testicles,
And caused Old Santa to drop his spectacles,
But, continuing unflustered,
The Yuletide old gent was as keen as mustard,
To turn back the years and do his stuff,
Hoping that his heart would be strong enough.

With puffs and moans, and stifled groans,
And lots of grunting amid the bunting,
Cindy, inspired by lust,
And Santa fortified with magic dust,
Their deep sighs hid no lies,
Neither faking it,
As they continued making it.

Considering Cindy to be a beauty,
Santa fulfilled his amorous duty,
With Cindy feeling quite ecstatic,
her raptures snapping her knicker elastic,
And the couple, indulging in harmless banter,
Cindy laughed, "Go on boy, good old Santa! "

With Cindy's passions all aflame,
And Santa feeling just the same,
They took themselves to the heights of pleasure,
climaxing simultaneously, both together.
"Oh," Cindy cried, "Oh, oh, oh...and made Santa smile.
"Ho, Santa laughed, Ho, Ho, Ho....in traditional style.

The elves and dwarfs gathered around,
Leprechauns and lecherous chefs began to frown,
Rudolph, rearing up, showed his wares,
And the fairies in short skirts, did their best to hide theirs,
The chipmunks danced to and fro,
And the harlequin had no place to go,

But all as one in a chorus did shout,
To one and all, and all about,
Their voices, clear, 'though a little shoddy,


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