Naughty or Nice?

by Alison Tyler

  She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so turned on. Robert was acquitting himself most worthily in his marital duty, fingering her clit, filling her cunt with his manhood, tickling her asshole with his own jolly, bouncing balls. And now he had one more surprise. His hand traveled to her bosom, seeking her nipple through the layers of ball gown and corset.

  She gasped and arched off the bed. She could feel her nipples stiffen, but the pressure of the corset forced the sensation inward, electric jolts of pleasure that radiated through the satin. Her whole torso was burning, melting. She thrashed and twisted, but Robert stayed with her, his balls lodged in her ass crack, his finger flicking her clit in quick time.

  “Fuck me, oh, yes,” she babbled, grinding herself against him in the most wanton manner.

  “Then show me how much you love it. Come on my cock right now,” Robert growled.

  Of course, a lady had no choice but to obey her husband. Except no one could call her a lady now. She was a fallen woman, tumbling through space, her orgasm shooting from deep inside her belly and up through the corset to burst from her throat in a scream of release.

  Robert emptied himself into her with a bestial cry of his own.

  “How was that for a last dance of the Dickens Ball?” His voice was his own, soft and sated.

  “It was the climax of the evening,” she said with a smile. And yes, it would be a tough act to follow, but she already had a few plans for next year. She’d buy him the most elegant and authentic costume, down to the sock garters and a dashing white chemise, then bring him to his knees. She wasn’t quite sure how, but she knew it would work out fine if she just put her faith in the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

  It was becoming a tradition.

  A Good Little Girl

  Shanna Germain

  “Daria’s Delights.This is Kay—how may I help you?”

  “I got a job,” Shannon’s voice on the phone was a pleasant relief from a crazy morning of pre-Christmas underwear sales.

  “Holy shit!” I said.The man standing at the counter looked up from the string-of-pearl thong he was holding. “Sorry,” I said to him. He nodded and went back to trying to decide between pearl and chain.

  Into the phone, a little softer, I said, “Shan, that’s awesome. I’m so proud of you.”

  She laughed. Shannon’s got a big, boisterous laugh that I love. “It’s just a seasonal gig.”

  “Who cares,” I said. “Tell me all about it.”

  “Can’t. It’s a surprise.” Shannon sounded more like her old self than she had since she’d been laid off from work a few months ago. Since then, she’d tried to find temporary holiday work but had mainly been sulking around the house and scrubbing things out of guilt for not bringing in any money.

  “Meet me tonight and I’ll show you,” she said. “I’ll leave directions on the bed.”

  After I hung up the phone, I couldn’t stop smiling, even though the man didn’t buy anything. Directions on the bed? That was our longtime term for an evening of fun, but we hadn’t had the money—or the desire—to do anything in a while.

  All day long, as I wrapped lacy thongs destined for Christmas gifts, I tried to figure out what kind of job she’d gotten that would entail directions on the bed. I couldn’t imagine her bartending. She was too honest to kiss the asses of drunken business men. And I doubted she’d be dancing topless—Shannon’s built more like a barrel than a Barbie. I personally love her thick thighs and round belly, but I doubted that was the look most dollar-stuffers were going for.

  As soon as my shift was over, I ran home to see what she’d left me. Spread out on the bed was a girly miniskirt with a white baby-doll T. “Pigtails are good. Clean-shaven is also good,” she’d written on the sticky note on top of my tennis shoes. “See you soon.”

  I hopped in the shower for a quick rinse and shave. Clean-shaven meant I’d most likely be getting at least semi-naked in front of others soon. Shannon knew there were few things I loved more than fucking her in public. I didn’t know how that worked into her new job. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe I was just going to pick her up and we’d go somewhere after.

  In the bedroom, I pulled everything on, including a pair of boy-cut panties, then took a look in the mirror. The short blue skirt showed my long legs nearly to the bottom of my ass, and the T-shirt Shannon had picked out was so tight it highlighted my small boobs. Jesus, I looked about sixteen. I completed the look with a smear of shiny lip gloss.

  The bad news was that my legs were bare. Shit, I was going to be freezing my ass off. Didn’t she realize it was the middle of December?

  I pulled my down coat out of the closet—I looked like a lollipop wrapped in a marshmallow, but at least I’d be warm in the car. I’d take it off when I got there. Maybe. I still wasn’t sure where there was, although Shannon had printed out a Yahoo map for me.

  The drive wasn’t far—it only took me about twenty minutes. But I was pretty sure I’d taken a wrong turn. Up and down the street, only big, quiet old houses. What was the deal? Was Shannon house-sitting somewhere? Hopefully, she wasn’t babysitting—she loved kids, but, man, after an hour with her nieces and nephews, she had them all on sugar highs and jumping off the furniture.

  I parked the car at the end of the block and threw my coat into the backseat. Shivering, I counted house numbers. I didn’t need to: even before I got to the address, I could see the party lights and hear the tinny sound of holiday music.

  Great, I thought, she’s serving cocktails for some haughty old folks, and I’m supposed to show up looking like Gidget’s baby sister. How does she get me into these things?

  But it was way too cold to be standing in the driveway worrying, so I ran up to the front door and rang the bell. An elf—about my height and with the most gorgeous green eyes I’d ever seen—opened the door.

  “Welcome to the Jingle No-Ball!” she said, sweeping her bell-clad arm around the room.

  “Th-thanks,” I shivered. The whole place looked like something out of the North Pole—there was fake snow everywhere, cotton running in drifts along the floor, and elves rushing around carrying plates of cookies.

  “Make yourself at home,” the elf said with a wink, as she closed the door behind me.

  The other guests were in the living room, milling around with food and drinks. To my relief, I saw that I wasn’t the only one dressed up.There were lots and lots of grown-ups in little-girl outfits—a few even wore footed pajamas and carried teddy bears. I looked at my bare legs and cursed Shannon for not thinking of that, instead. Others wore antlers and red noses, or gift wrapping. I didn’t see any real boys, although there were at least a few girls who were packing, dressed in sailor suits or as boy elves.

  I took a quick look around for Shannon but didn’t see her. At least, I knew from everyone else’s costumes that I was at the right house. I didn’t see her in the dining room, either, which was filled with all kinds of finger foods and steaming bowls of cider and eggnog. I poured myself a cup of eggnog—it was brandy-warm and delicious.

  Through the kitchen was another room, a sort of second living room with a huge fireplace and sparkling tree loaded with presents. Girls and reindeer sat on couches and chairs, while elves ran to and fro with a seemingly endless supply of food.

  And, there, in the middle of it all, in a huge royal chair, was Santa. I took a couple of steps closer and realized it wasn’t Santa, it was Shannon.

  She wore typical garb: red suit, a white wig that covered her blond stubble, and a white beard. Her big belly pressed against the front of her suit, filled it in a way that made it obvious that she hadn’t had to stuff it—it was all her. She was the most beautiful Santa I’d ever seen. I was getting wet, just watching her sit there in her fluffy red suit. I’d never wanted to sit on Santa’s lap so badly in my life.

  There was already someone on her lap, though—and a whole line of girls waiting for her. I could tell just by looking that they weren’t all good girls, either. I wanted to give t
hem a shove out of the way and join the bad-girl list myself. But instead, I got in line behind a pig-tailed redhead in pink pj’s. She was sucking on a candy cane, and it was turning her lips as red as Rudolph’s nose.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a candy cane. Working in retail during the holidays for so many years—listening to “Jingle Bells” thirty times a day and putting out decorations in October—had quenched a lot of the joy I’d once had about Christmas.

  I gave the girl a smile, and she smiled back around the candy cane, showing teeth that were a Christmas-y shade of pink.

  “Hey, where did you get that?” I don’t know why I whispered. It just felt right.

  She ducked her head toward me. “My mommy put it in my stocking,” she said. Then she pulled another one out of her pajama pants pocket and held it out to me.“Mommy says I should share.”

  “Wow, thanks,” I said. “I like these.”

  “Me, too,” she said.

  We stood, sucking on our candy canes, waiting for the line to move. It wasn’t going very fast, though; everyone seemed to be having a great time on Shannon’s lap. And she was the perfect Santa; I could hear her ho-ho-ho’s from where I stood in line, and saw her give more than a few girls a swat on the behind as they climbed off her lap.

  I tried not to get antsy, but watching Shannon, waiting for her, made my insides all wiggly. I sucked harder on my candy cane, trying to let the mint take over my mouth and distract me from what I really wanted.

  Finally, it was the redheaded girl’s turn, which meant I was next. I tried not to look as the girl plopped herself down on Shannon’s lap. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I did hear Shannon tell her she could have whatever she wanted and then give that big belly laugh.

  I was already wet under my skirt and wishing I hadn’t worn panties. Would Shannon be able to get her hands up there? I didn’t know, but that was all I cared about.

  After a few minutes, the redhead jumped off Shannon’s lap and gave her a kiss on the cheek.“Thank you, Santa,” she said. Then she flashed me another pink-toothed grin and stood at the side of the chair.

  It was my turn, and I suddenly got shy. I sidled up to her, my head down. “Hi, Santa,” I whispered.

  Shannon opened her arms wide and said “ho-ho-ho!” in a way that made it sound less like she was laughing and more like she knew exactly what was on my mind.

  I jumped into her lap, and she wrapped those big arms around me and pulled me to her. Her belly was so soft, wrapped in the velvety costume. The beard and hair hid her face really well—the only way I could tell it was Shannon’s face was by her big brown eyes looking at me.

  As I settled in her lap, I realized she was packing—something long and large from the feel of it. The pressure of it against me was incredible—it was all I could do to keep myself from wiggling around like jelly.

  “And what would you like from Santa, little girl?” Shannon asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she jiggled her hips beneath me.

  “I, uh, would, uh…” The unexpected pleasure of the dildo wiggling beneath me made it hard to concentrate. I could feel it rubbing against the thin fabric of my skirt, like it wanted to work its way inside.

  “I don’t see you on my good list, though,” Shannon pulled at her beard with one white-gloved hand. “Something tells me you were a bad girl this year.”

  “Oh, no, Santa, I was…” I didn’t know what to say. Had I been good? And if so, was I going to get whatever I wanted? But if I was bad, then maybe I would have to be punished. I couldn’t decide.

  But it didn’t matter, because Shannon was rubbing her gloved hands up my bare thighs.The fabric was soft and silky against my skin, and I imagined her touching my clit, rubbing, soaking up my juices. She whispered in my ear, her beard scratching against my skin. “I think you were a very bad girl, don’t you?”

  I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. And I didn’t want to open my eyes—I knew there were other little girls and elves who wanted Santa’s attention, but I didn’t want to share. I guess that made me a bad girl after all.

  Shannon’s hands were pulling the skirt up, seeking out my center, and I inched toward the edge of her lap, feeling the dildo slide along my crack. I wanted her to slide her hands under my panties and touch me with those perfect white gloves—I could just imagine them, starting with slow circles, then growing more insistent.

  Shannon gave the inside of my thigh a slap. “Bad girls don’t get what they ask for, you know that, right?”

  “But…” I said.

  “The only butt in this story is yours,” she said. “Now, hop off Santa’s lap.”

  “I don’t want to,” I said. I put my lips out in a big, candycane-coated pout.

  “Well, then you’d better get on Santa’s good list, don’t you think?” She stood, tumbling me off her lap.Then she unbuckled her big square black belt. I went down on my knees in front of her and opened my mouth, begging for her to stuff my throat. I wanted to suck her so badly, I could already taste the rubber. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the redhead sucking on her candy cane hard, one hand down the front of her pink pj’s.

  In front of me, Shannon opened the crotch of the Santa pants and brought out the dildo. She must have picked it up earlier, or else it came as part of the job. It was bright green and ridged like a long, thin Christmas tree.

  She offered it up to me, and I sucked it the way I’d sucked the candy cane. I loved the feel of the rubber against my teeth, the thrust of her hips, the way she grabbed the back of my head like she’d never let go. I moaned against the rubber as her thrusts increased and she forced herself farther back in my throat.

  She pulled away from me before I was ready, leaving me with my mouth empty and my clit beating jingle bells against the stupid panties I’d worn.

  I stood. My panties were soaked, my mouth tasted like rubber and mint, and I could feel the line of girls behind me waiting their turn.

  Shannon sat back down in the Santa throne and steadied the dildo with her hand. “Now, you can come sit on Santa’s lap,” she said.

  I climbed back on her, catching a glimpse of the redhead next to us, who had gotten rid of her candy cane and had both hands down her pajama bottoms.

  Shannon put her hands on my hips.“Turn around,” Shannon said. I turned and looked out into the living room. Everywhere, there were girl couples, sharing couches and floor space. A few girls sat in the corners watching, their hands busy across their bodies. In the Santa line, girls watched us, touching themselves inside skirts and pajamas. One of the girls whose outfit—the zip-up pj’s with feet—I’d coveted earlier was struggling with her zipper. I’d never been so glad to be in a miniskirt.

  Shannon bent me over a bit and pushed the crotch of my underwear to one side, exposing my shaven pussy to the air. Then she positioned me over the dildo, teasing the tip in and out of my lips.

  “Please…” I couldn’t help whispering—I wanted her inside me.

  “Please what?” She pulled the back of my panties down as she spoke.

  “Please, Santa,” I said. She slid the dildo in just a little, and I gasped. “Please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be a good girl,” I said.

  When I said “girl,” Shannon pressed me down on the dildo all the way. I was so wet, it slid up inside me without stopping, and then Shannon had both hands on my bare ass and was forcing me up and down.The slippery rubber inside me, combined with the soft fur of her suit, was driving me over the edge.The chair was so high up it was like I was looking down on all those people fucking around us. And with Shannon driving the dildo in and out of me, all I could think was “This must be what it’s like for those angels on top of the tree. Heaven.”

  Without stopping, Shannon said, “Okay, little girl. Let’s make your wish come true.”

  At first, I thought she was talking to me. “But you don’t know what—”

  But she was talking to the redhead, who had pulled her hands ou
t of her jammies and was stepping up in front of the chair. “Really?” the girl asked. She had her hands behind her back, and her head down, just like when she’d given me the candy cane.

  “Ho-ho-ho, baby,” Shannon said. “Really.”

  The redhead reached out and lifted my baby-doll T.Then she leaned over and put her warm, wet, sticky mouth on my nipple. A spark popped somewhere between my nipple and my clit. Or maybe it was in my head. All I could do was moan and keep riding Santa’s big green dildo.

  Then, with the other hand, the redhead gently touched my exposed clit.

  “Jesus,” I breathed. My vision was blurred, but all around me I could see girls with their hands on each other, moving in the same rhythm as I.

  As we moved together, the three of us, the redhead got bolder with her fingers, stroking my clit harder and harder. She tugged at my nipple with her teeth, and I gulped air, trying to hold on, but I knew I was getting too close to back down and wait. The room was spinning. From the sounds Shannon was making behind me, I knew she was feeling the same way. She bucked beneath me, sending her dick into me again and again.

  Pleasure took over, a three-pronged star of nipple, clit, and insides. For a few seconds, I was lost in a whiteout, feeling only my own body as I came.

  A few minutes later, I was dripping wet, covered in sweat and my own juices, feeling Shannon sigh against my neck.The redhead in front of me gave me one last smile and hopped away into the crowd of girls. A few of the girls in line yelled, “We want to see Santa, too!”

  But before she let me up, Shannon whispered in my ear, “Did you get your wish, little girl?”

  “No.” I pouted my big lip again. “I want Santa to come every day.”

  “He can,” she said. “I get to keep the suit.”

  Carol’s Christmas

  Lisette Ashton