Mr. Michaels looks so dorky in that Santa outfit. It's so obviously him too with that fake beard drooping beneath his chin, swaying when he turns his head. No kid could be that dumb. I think Billy just plays along so his Dad doesn't feel bad. He's a good kid.
No one could say Mr. Michaels doesn't try, though. He went down the goddamned chimney for Christ's sake! That's some serious commitment. I don't think that thing has been swept in a decade. He has to buy a new Santa suit each year because all that black shit is impossible to get out. That can't be good for his lungs, either.
Mr. Michaels doubles over in a fit of coughing when he emerges from the small black space in the wall. A black puff of smoke rises and dissipates into the warm living room air while he's hammering his sternum with a fist.
"Ho-h-" Mr. Michaels chokes, bending over and holding his knees. When his coughing comes to a lull, he lifts his head to say, "Ahem. Ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas!"
"Hey Da---I mean---it's Santa!" The feigned enthusiasm in his tone would be obvious to anyone else but Mr. Michaels.
"Why hello there, little Billy!" I have to admit, Mr. Michaels is adorable. "Tell me, have you been a good boy this year?"
"Shouldn't you know already?" Now little Billy is being a little smart ass. Mr. Michaels shoots me a quick glance, coughs out more smoke, then composes himself.
"Ho-ho-ho! Of course, of course! You've been really good this year. Santa is proud of you!" He leans to give Billy a gentle pat on the head. "Now, where did I put it..." Billy raises an eyebrow, looking like he is struggling on the inside to stop himself from bursting with laughter.
"Ah---here it is!" Billy has already torn into the wrapping of the small rectangular box before Santa has even let go of it.
"Oh my god! Super Dragon Fighter VI!" Billy jumps up and down, hugging the box against his chest.
"What do you say to Santa?" I ask Billy.
"Thanks D--thank you, Santa!" In his eagerness, Billy runs off to his room without even saying goodbye.
I give Mr. Michaels a little wink.
"You're a total mess, y'know." I wipe away some of the dark charcoal on his cheek with my own spit. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." I grab Mr. Michaels by the hand and lead him to the master bedroom.
******
I sit Mr. Michaels down on the bed and work at getting his black leather boots off.
"That was really sweet what you did for Billy," I say. Then I snicker when I get his boot off to reveal blue and green Christmas socks with reindeer faces on the toes. "You really did go all out, didn't you?" We laugh together and Mr. Michaels leans back onto the bed, covering his face to hide his embarrassment.
"Well I thought it was adorable. There aren't many fathers who would go to so much trouble to make their kid happy." When I get the second boot off, I start eyeing his thick red coat with the furry white cuffs. I wonder if he'll let me take it off him.
Before he has a chance to react, I get on to the bed and saddle myself across his pelvis. I reach to undo the front of the jacket with both hands and manage to reveal part of his bare torso underneath before he catches me by the wrists.
"What're you--"
"Shhhh..." I whisper. "We don't want Billy to hear us." I glance down at the nipple peeking out from underneath and my tongue darts to the corner of my mouth. The sight of his bare chest has my senses going wild with lust.
"But--you're the babysitter. It just wouldn't be--" I press an index finger to his lips while bending down to press the flat of my tongue against his exposed nipple. My tongue glides up his bulging pectoral, leaving a wet sheen of saliva that glistens in the dim light of the bedroom.
"You haven't given me what I want for Christmas." Mr. Michaels' lips begin to tremble. "And this girl always gets what she wants from Santa Claus... every year." When I feel his grip on my wrists loosen up, I take advantage by slinging both sides of the jacket off his chest.
I press both palms firmly into his rippling abdomen and begin to rock my hips against his pelvis. I can feel his growing dick through the soft fabric of his pants. I lift off my shirt and unhook my bra, letting it fall onto his chest, watching it rise and fall with each rapid breath.
I bounce myself up and down, slamming against his pelvis while rocking my hips. Mr. Michaels' gaze is fixed on my supple tits as they jiggle and bounce together. My finger rolls over the muscles of his toned six-pack, curling to work at his brown leather belt.
When I get the buckle undone, I whip the belt off with a quick snap. Staring down at the bulge of his pants, I grab hold of my breasts, squeezing them together, saying, "I want you inside me."
I kneel down onto the carpet floor and pull down on the waist of his pants. Mr. Michaels' erect cock springs into the cold air, and my lips curl into a mischievous grin. I slip the pants down and off his ankles, then move in between his legs.
Gripping his bare thighs with either hand, I lower my head between his legs.
"My, my... Who knew Santa had such a big cock?"
Then Mr. Michaels moans long and deep when he feels the wetness of my tongue sliding along his stiff dick. I work my way up the shaft, slowly, savoring the taste of victory. Mr. Michaels has totally given in to his desire now. It's only a matter of time before I've got this enormous cock balls deep inside me.
When my tongue reaches the head, I lick all around it, flicking playfully at the tip. I can't help giggling at the sight of his legs twitching as my tongue curls around the neck. Then I glide along the length of his shaft, coating it in a thick sheen of saliva.
I wrap fingers around the shaft, hovering my mouth at the head, exhaling warm breath onto his dick as my lips part.
"Is Santa ready to give me my present?" I cup his balls with one hand while stroking the shaft with the other. "I've been a really naughty girl this year..." Mr. Michaels grips the bedspread tight when he feels the warmth of my mouth on his dick. He moans loud enough that Billy must have heard.
The suction of my lips on his head makes a popping sound when I stop a moment to say, "But I like being naughty..."
Then I thrust his cock deep into the back of my throat, as far as I can go before I start to retch. The muscles of throat squeeze his entire length as I bob my head up and down, stroking his cock in the wetness of my whole mouth.
Thick beads of saliva roll down his shaft down to his balls. I gag again and again, but force myself to push past the pain. I am determined to deepthroat his entire cock like an expert whore.
My grip on his thighs is strong enough they have turned red at the spot where my nails are digging in deep. Farther and farther, I plunge his cock into the very depths of my throat, drooling along every inch of it.
My throat swells with the girth of his cock slipping in and out. Droplets of spit dribbling from my lips fall and wet his trimmed pubes.
Mr. Michaels moans and grabs hold of my head, pushing on it from behind to get me down the very last inch. I gulp it down and gargle on his cock, connecting my nose with his abs. Black tears roll from my bloodshot eyes, down my cheeks and off my chin. Holding his cock down my esophagus is making it hard to breathe.
I want to come up for air, but Mr. Michaels holds me there. He groans and clutches the back of my hair with both hands, thrusting his pelvis far enough that his balls tap my chin. My throat clenches out of reflex. The lining my throat burns, stretched by the enormity of his cock lodged inside. I desperately need to come up for air.
His cock twitches in the back of my throat and I know he's getting ready to cum. I tap wildly on his thighs, trying to get him to let me off his dick. But Mr. Michaels seems intent on cumming in my mouth.
No fucking way. If he wants to shoot his load, it's going to be inside my pussy. The whole point of seducing Mr. Michaels is to get pregnant, after all.
I use my hands to push off against the bed to lift my head slowly off his cock. As I hoist myself off his dick, thick strings of saliva cling between his shaft and my lips. Mr. Michaels is squinting hard, refusing to relinquish his dea
th grip on my hair.
"You can't cum yet, Mr. Michaels..." I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand between heavy breaths. I giggle and stroke the head of his cock a bit, just to tease him. I wince a little at the pain of him clutching tighter on my scalp. His dick continues throbbing in my hand, right on the verge of ejaculation. "You haven't even started fucking me yet."
With that, his grip begins to loosen and blood returns to the white of his knuckles. He sits up on the bed in what looks like excited anticipation. Mr. Michaels has a kinky side to him after all.
I step out of my pants and slip my black lacy panties down just past my ass. I give it a little shake and wink at Mr. Michaels, giggling at the sight of him--slack-jawed, with wide eyes fixated on my round, flushed cheeks. I slap one cheek and wiggle with giddiness. At last, I'm finally about to lose my virginity.
I slide the panties all the way off and crawl up onto the bed, straddling myself just above his cock. I pick up his hands and guide them to the sides of my ass. His hands are cold and trembling against my soft, smooth skin as they travel up from my thighs.
My pussy is dripping wet. I want Mr. Michaels to enter me. His enormous cock twitches beneath my open crotch. I need him inside me.
I wrap delicate fingers around his throbbing shaft and direct it toward my sopping wet entrance. I bite down on my trembling bottom lip as I begin to lower myself down, slowly. Mr. Michaels squeezes my ass cheeks and his eyes roll back when the tip of his dick connects with the wetness of my labia.
The head of his cock parts my folds as the tip enters me. My back arches and my body jolts. The warmth of my pussy wraps tight around the head of his dick. We moan together, loud and long.
The size of him feels like more than I can handle, but the immense pleasure compels me to lower myself farther down onto his cock. The girth of his cock spreads my walls apart as he enters deeper... and deeper...
"Ungh!" I cry out when his cock bottoms out at my cervix. My whole body shudders. The subtle pain is drowned by pure ecstasy. My ass cheeks press against the firmness of his thighs. I can't believe I fit his entire cock inside me!
The tightness of my walls wrap around the whole length of his cock. I compress my walls to squeeze every inch of him, enjoying the sensation of him filling me whole.
The Mr. Michaels groans when he slips in my wetness as I rock my hips against him. I leverage myself with my knees to lift myself up, then slam hard back onto his pelvis. His cock slams into the very depths of me and my spine tingles.
Again and again, I buck wildly against him. My fingernails scrape along the surface of his chest. My wet juices coat the length of his dick as I ride him.
His grip on my ass cheeks gets tighter with every fucking motion. Mr. Michaels holds me down on his cock and drills into me, moaning and squinting hard with every impaling thrust.
I can feel a warm tingle building deep within my core. Mr. Michaels lifts me up with his pelvis with every plunge into my tightness. We moan and cry out with abandon. Little Billy must hear us for sure.
Then my eyes go wide when the head of his cock twitches deep inside me. He must be getting ready to cum.
Desperate for his seed, I press my palms flat against his chest and hold him there. I fight against his thrusting and take control, using every muscle of my core to coax the spunk from his cock. My hips sway and bounce against him, fucking him like an animal, compelled by nature to breed.
"I... I want you to cum inside me..." I say between huffing and groaning. Mr. Michaels seems to pause a moment in hesitation. But it's too late for that now. The head of his cock twitches again at my cervix, ready to explode.
"It's okay..." I say to him, seeing the apprehension in his face. "I want you to..."
I bite down on the corner of my lip and watch his eyes roll back. Mr. Michaels can't hold it back any longer. The expression of his face turns to one of pure ecstasy when he ejaculates inside me.
"I'm fucking c--cumming!" He yells, thrusting himself into me as deep as he can. His legs spasm in a fit of orgasm.
My head tilts back and we moan together. What started as a subtle tingle has erupted into a wave of electricity coursing through my body out to every extremity. Our bodies convulse against one another. My upper body shudders and my legs push hard into his ribcage.
I gasp as his massive load fills my insides. I can feel his warm, thick cum coating my walls. Mr. Michaels just came inside me!
My vision blurs and my mind goes numb. My head droops and I fall forward onto his firm chest. My breasts heave against his hard pecs as the last bits of cum dribble from his dick.
As we lie there together in mutual bliss, I think about what will become of us now. Mr. Michaels has almost certainly impregnated me. Will I finally be able to live the life I've always wanted, free from my controlling mother? Will he have a cute kid together just like little Billy?
Then our bodies tense when the bedroom door creaks open.
Little Billy is standing in the doorway in his pajamas, looking utterly confused. His eyes are fixed on the red and white outfit strewn across the floor.
"S--Santa?"
TOO TIGHT
Mr. White always has all the good food. The stuff Mom never buys. I guess that's why I'm over at Mr. White's house more than my own. I can't stand being around my mother.
She is always teasing me about my weight, and it really hurts sometimes. She thinks she's just being funny when she pokes my belly fat, going, "My daughter is getting so chubby!" Then she laughs like it's all a big joke.
The truth is I am really self-conscious about my weight. I'm not obese or anything like that, but it hurts to be made fun of like that. My mom is probably the reason I go over to Mr. White's to binge eat all the time.
Maybe I should see a therapist about that.
Anytime I ask her to buy the foods I like, she tells me, "Not with my money. Get a job if you want to buy junk food!" But that skinny bitch doesn't know how hard it can be for a big girl like me to land a job.
People look at you differently in in interviews, always staring with those judgmental eyes. Trying to find a job in retail when you're overweight is a nightmare.
But Mr. White doesn't seem to care. He is really the nicest person on Earth. He used to be overweight himself, so he really understands what I'm going through. But one day he somehow managed turn his life around. He got fit in just under a year--totally ripped, actually.
Then he scored a hot wife and moved to the suburbs next door. Ever since then, I've been making every excuse possible to be around him.
I saw some of his old pictures when he was overweight like me. It's incredible how much he has changed. The guy is a total hunk now. He's always telling me that I shouldn't care what people think of me.
"No matter what they say, you're gorgeous to me," he told me once. Then he nudged me, saying, "Hell, if I wasn't married..." then he just laughed without finishing the sentence.
Did he really mean it? In truth, I would give anything to be his wife. Being over there all the time, I sometimes pretend to be. That bitch is hardly ever at home anyway. Usually it's just me and Mr. White, sitting together on his couch watching television.
And honestly, those are my happiest moments. Just sitting there next to him, gorging on junk food and watching our show of mutual interest.
I like to fantasize that we're a happily married couple.
More than that, I fantasize about Mr. White impregnating me. The truth is, I want to be more than just his wife. I want to have a child with him. Then I can move out of Mom's house and eat whatever the hell I want without her nagging me all the time. I'm nineteen already for Christ’s sake!
If I got myself knocked up by Mr. White, I could finally escape the clutches of my stupid mother always telling me what to do--that I need to get a job, to lose weight. It never ends. That bitch will never understand. Mr. White and I could be so happy together.
And I know he wants a piece of this ass. Mr. White is always flirting with me when hi
s wife isn't around. Just harmless stuff really, but it lets me know he would totally fuck me given the chance.
All I would have to do is give him a little bit of encouragement--let him know that this pussy is wet and ready for him any time. I may still be a virgin, but I'm confident I know how to make it worth his while.
He even caught me masturbating on that couch once. I was feeling super depressed after an argument with my mother, so I was sobbing into a bowl of ice cream with a bag of potato chips on my lap when the urge struck me.
I saw handsome Mr. White smiling next to his wife in a framed photograph of his wedding, looking all dressed up, and I just couldn't help myself.
I imagined I was her, what we would do together the night of our honeymoon. I slipped two fingers down my pants and felt the soggy spot around my clit. I let my eyelids drop, fingering myself a little while thinking about all the naughty things I wished Mr. White would do to me.
She Wants It Rough Page 13
