Santa's magical visit Continued:
Ted had never believed in Santa, not really. But when the air in the living room thickened with something sweet and electric, he’d frozen behind the half-open closet door, breath fogging in the sudden chill. Then June appeared in that whisper-thin nightgown, nipples dark against the silk, and Santa… Santa was real. And hard. And huge.
The moment Santa’s cock had swelled beneath the red velvet, a warm, dizzying haze settled over Ted’s mind. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. His own cock surged painfully against his pajama pants, leaking into the fabric as he watched Santa bend his stepdaughter over the couch, watched her tiny body take every impossible inch. Ted’s hand found himself without conscious thought, stroking in time with Santa’s thrusts, edging, always edging, tugging his balls when the pressure built too high. The scent of pine and sex and something impossibly sweet filled the closet until he was drunk on it.
An hour. A full hour of muffled cries, wet sounds, cookies crumbling onto June’s back while Santa railed her ass. Ted’s forearm burned from the slow, torturous rhythm he kept, never letting himself tip over. When Santa finally came in June’s mouth, painting her innocent face with glowing rivers of cum, Ted’s knees nearly buckled. He bit down on his own wrist to stay silent, eyes locked on June’s throat working, swallowing, spilling, glistening.
Then Santa vanished up the chimney in a swirl of soot and silence.
June stayed on her knees, dazed, lips parted, cum dripping from her chin in thick strands. Her fingers drifted through the mess on her chest, scooping it up, sucking it clean with soft, dreamy moans. She spread her thighs wide, two fingers sliding easily into her swollen pussy, pumping lazily, still riding the aftershocks.
Ted stepped out of the closet.
The floorboard creaked. June’s eyes snapped open.
“Ted!” The word was half gasp, half shout, legs slamming shut. Shock widened her eyes, but the magic still clung to her skin, left her slow, pliant.
He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His cock jutted obscenely from his open fly, flushed angry red from an hour of denial. June’s mouth was still open in surprise; he took it as invitation. One hand fisted in her hair, the other guiding himself past her lips. She gagged, hands flying to his thighs, but he didn’t stop—just fucked her face in short, rough thrusts, hips jerking, beard-shadowed jaw clenched tight.
After a minute he pulled out, sat heavily on the couch, and lifted his legs high, feet on the cushions, exposing everything. His voice came out hoarse.
“Lick.”
June hesitated only a second, pupils blown wide, cum still shining on her lashes. She leaned in, tongue dragging slow from his asshole up over his balls, tracing the thick vein along his shaft to the tip. Ted groaned, head falling back.
Ted hauled her up by the arms, spun her around, bent her over the arm of the couch. Santa’s cum still coated her everywhere—glistening on her ass, dripping from her pussy, pooled in the small of her back. Ted scooped a thick handful, slathered it over his aching cock until he gleamed like frost. The magic tingled against his skin, made him throb harder.
He lined up and drove into her in one brutal thrust.
June cried out, fingers scrabbling at the cushions, but her hips pushed back greedily, chasing more. Ted fucked her like a man possessed—fast, sloppy, the wet sound of Santa’s cum squelching with every stroke. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, pulling her onto him again and again, chasing the release he’d denied himself for an hour.
June came first, sudden and sharp, walls clamping down around him. Ted followed seconds later—hips stuttering, a guttural sound ripping from his throat as he emptied himself inside her, pulse after pulse mixing with Santa’s impossible load until it leaked down her thighs in thick, glowing streams.
He stayed buried for a long moment, breathing ragged, forehead pressed between her shoulder blades. June trembled beneath him, soft whimpers escaping with every aftershock.
Ted pulled out slowly, watching his cum and Santa’s mingle and drip onto the carpet. June stayed bent over the couch arm, legs shaking, utterly spent.
He tucked himself away, pressed a single kiss to the back of her cum-soaked neck, and whispered, voice raw, “Merry Christmas, babygirl, clean this mess up before your mother gets up.”
Then he slipped back into the shadows of the hallway, leaving June alone beneath the twinkling lights.
The moment Santa’s cock had swelled beneath the red velvet, a warm, dizzying haze settled over Ted’s mind. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. His own cock surged painfully against his pajama pants, leaking into the fabric as he watched Santa bend his stepdaughter over the couch, watched her tiny body take every impossible inch. Ted’s hand found himself without conscious thought, stroking in time with Santa’s thrusts, edging, always edging, tugging his balls when the pressure built too high. The scent of pine and sex and something impossibly sweet filled the closet until he was drunk on it.
An hour. A full hour of muffled cries, wet sounds, cookies crumbling onto June’s back while Santa railed her ass. Ted’s forearm burned from the slow, torturous rhythm he kept, never letting himself tip over. When Santa finally came in June’s mouth, painting her innocent face with glowing rivers of cum, Ted’s knees nearly buckled. He bit down on his own wrist to stay silent, eyes locked on June’s throat working, swallowing, spilling, glistening.
Then Santa vanished up the chimney in a swirl of soot and silence.
June stayed on her knees, dazed, lips parted, cum dripping from her chin in thick strands. Her fingers drifted through the mess on her chest, scooping it up, sucking it clean with soft, dreamy moans. She spread her thighs wide, two fingers sliding easily into her swollen pussy, pumping lazily, still riding the aftershocks.
Ted stepped out of the closet.
The floorboard creaked. June’s eyes snapped open.
“Ted!” The word was half gasp, half shout, legs slamming shut. Shock widened her eyes, but the magic still clung to her skin, left her slow, pliant.
He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His cock jutted obscenely from his open fly, flushed angry red from an hour of denial. June’s mouth was still open in surprise; he took it as invitation. One hand fisted in her hair, the other guiding himself past her lips. She gagged, hands flying to his thighs, but he didn’t stop—just fucked her face in short, rough thrusts, hips jerking, beard-shadowed jaw clenched tight.
After a minute he pulled out, sat heavily on the couch, and lifted his legs high, feet on the cushions, exposing everything. His voice came out hoarse.
“Lick.”
June hesitated only a second, pupils blown wide, cum still shining on her lashes. She leaned in, tongue dragging slow from his asshole up over his balls, tracing the thick vein along his shaft to the tip. Ted groaned, head falling back.
Ted hauled her up by the arms, spun her around, bent her over the arm of the couch. Santa’s cum still coated her everywhere—glistening on her ass, dripping from her pussy, pooled in the small of her back. Ted scooped a thick handful, slathered it over his aching cock until he gleamed like frost. The magic tingled against his skin, made him throb harder.
He lined up and drove into her in one brutal thrust.
June cried out, fingers scrabbling at the cushions, but her hips pushed back greedily, chasing more. Ted fucked her like a man possessed—fast, sloppy, the wet sound of Santa’s cum squelching with every stroke. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, pulling her onto him again and again, chasing the release he’d denied himself for an hour.
June came first, sudden and sharp, walls clamping down around him. Ted followed seconds later—hips stuttering, a guttural sound ripping from his throat as he emptied himself inside her, pulse after pulse mixing with Santa’s impossible load until it leaked down her thighs in thick, glowing streams.
He stayed buried for a long moment, breathing ragged, forehead pressed between her shoulder blades. June trembled beneath him, soft whimpers escaping with every aftershock.
Ted pulled out slowly, watching his cum and Santa’s mingle and drip onto the carpet. June stayed bent over the couch arm, legs shaking, utterly spent.
He tucked himself away, pressed a single kiss to the back of her cum-soaked neck, and whispered, voice raw, “Merry Christmas, babygirl, clean this mess up before your mother gets up.”
Then he slipped back into the shadows of the hallway, leaving June alone beneath the twinkling lights.
3ヶ月前
