Horny Holidays (The Complete Collection)

by Layla Bangs

  “Yeah, Yeah we should… I’ll message you” Jane replied before we both disappeared through the gap in the fence.

  As we both drifted off to sleep I had to pinch myself to confirm what I had experienced wasn’t just some kind of cruel dream.

  Moving our lives to the French Riviera had been very difficult, but now we had a reason to stay.

  Just one night had changed the path our life together would take forever, and I’ve never been more excited to see what tomorrow might bring.

  Defiling Mrs Claus

  Horny Holidays Part Three

  “Come over here and sit on Santa’s face…” there he goes again, the dirty old fuck. Fucking Mrs Claus while we Elves work our fingers to the bone on the other side of the paper thin wall of the wrapping department.

  He knows we can hear them. Hell I think it encourages him to carry out more and more perverted acts as we handle an endless conveyor belt stacked high with presents for spoilt brats, nursing our rock hard cocks and no way to relieve them.

  It’s been this way ever since he met the latest in a long line of Claus wives. This one was a departure from his normal fair.

  No more round jolly woman, no blue rinse or permed hair. No rosy cheeks. Well except those she gets from being slung across his knee and being spanked that is.

  No, this Mrs Claus is different.

  She’s the Santa equivalent of a trophy wife, a blond bombshell. Sex on legs, full round breasts that always seem to be housed in a top cut so low, she’s always one sneeze away from a wardrobe malfunction.

  Black stocking covered legs that turn into beautifully thick thighs before disappearing beneath an obscenely short skirt and an ass that would I’d follow to the ends of this Earth just for a feel.

  What she saw in that fat old bastard escaped us all on the workshop floor; all we know is that we’d give anything to be in Santa’s place right about now, anything to have that sweet little ass wriggling on our faces instead.

  Judging by the shrieks of delight resonating through the walls right now, he’s showing her a good time.

  I can just imagine him waddling out from his office, running his fat hands through his thick white beard as it glistens under the fluorescent lights.

  The sweet smell of her pussy thick on his breath as he smugly smiles at all of his, knowing full well what we’d just been subjected to…

  Jealous wouldn’t begin to sum up how I feel at the moment. I know how he treats his women, and I know what will happen to this version of Mrs Claus. He’ll treat her like a princess. Buy her nice things, lavish her with all of his attention and affection.

  But come Christmas Eve, like he does every Christmas Eve, he’ll be fucking everything with a warm hole.

  Every single mother, every married woman, whoever happens falls victim to the jolly demeanour and tight red pants.

  Still, I can’t say I blame him. We’d all walk in his boots given half the chance, but it’s strictly against company policy for Elves to engage in sexual relations, and seeing as the Toy Workshop is the only gainful employer in the greater North Pole region, no-one is too keen to push the rules.

  It’s funny reading the books, watching the endless stream of TV shows and listening to various Christmas stories about Santa and his Elves. Kids are led to believe that Santa is this big old jolly man, kind and caring, fulfilling the wishes of children the world over.

  The reality is located at the polar opposite of those ideals.

  He’s lazy, cruel and horny. There’s a really simple explanation for how Santa fits down the chimney.

  Long story short, he doesn’t. We do. Elves are not the short impish creatures the stories would have you believe.

  We’re thin, athletic and tall. We need to be to carry all the shit Santa won’t sully his chubby hands with.

  “What do you think he’s doing to her in there?” Sammy, one of the slower Elves on the line asks me. Normally I don’t humor his endless questions but this time I bite.

  “Gee I don’t know Sammy. Maybe he’s getting her to paint his office on a pogo stick or something?”

  Her screams are rhythmic and forced and I imagine Santa having her bent over his desk as he plows her from behind.

  Her cries finally reach a fever pitch as she screams loudly. I can only assume Santa has finally filled her cunt with his salty payload.

  I look down the line at a bunch of uncomfortable Elves adjusting their festive uniforms. The smell of a room full of excited cocks makes the sweat-shop like floor even more unbearable.

  “I can’t take this anymore Sammy… I need to have a piece of that ass!”

  I can feel the familiar cool wet sensation of my pre-cum stained briefs pressing against my stiff cock. I need some pussy. I need it before I crack and do something stupid.

  “What are ya gonna do?” Sammy asks, his slack jaw hanging low as he patiently waits for my answer. God damn it. Is everything a fucking question with this guy?

  “I don’t know Sammy… I don’t know. But I’ll think of something…”

  “Well be careful… you know the rules. I heard a guy got fired last season just for saying hello to Mrs Claus in the hallway. Santa doesn’t fuck around Jimmy…”

  He was right. And I hated when Sammy was right.

  A man like Sammy should not be encouraged when it came to thinking; it has the nasty habit of getting us all in trouble.

  As the whistle blew signalling the end of the shift, my mind raced with how I could engineer a situation that meant I could be alone with Mrs Claus. Even if it meant my job.

  Hell, especially if it meant my job.

  “Try not to be too late tonight Chris!” I knew that sweet voice. Everyone in the workshop knew that voice.

  When you’re the only female in the North Pole, such details don’t go unnoticed.

  There wasn’t an Elf in sight who didn’t drop what they were doing at that moment and take in the beautiful figure cutting a path across the shop floor.

  She looked like sex and even smelt fresh of it as she glided past us. I knew at that moment that any punishment I’d receive for pursuing a taste of her would certainly be worthy of the crime.

  She knows we all lust after her. I think it thrills her to know that she is the forbidden apple in the little Garden of Eden that we all occupy.

  As I settled down into my bunk bed, staring at the ceiling to the endless murmurs, farts and anonymous masturbation sessions of the twenty odd other Elves all sharing the same quarters, I began forming a plan in my head to get Santa out of the way long enough to get close to Mrs Claus.

  I knew that if I could just get her alone, unimpeded by the watchful eyes of the others, she would be all over me.

  That’s when it hit me. All I have to do is sneak into Santa’s house while he’s sleeping, steal his cell phone, find some incriminating evidence and send it to Mrs Claus by ‘mistake’.

  Santa is as careless as he is fat, there’s bound to be something.

  Mrs Claus has a reputation as being a fiery mistress, and if my suspicions were correct, Santa would be sleeping in his sleigh for the foreseeable future.

  The plan wasn’t without risk of course, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I’ve lost track of the last time I got my dick wet.

  I waited for the witching hour, my heart pounding every time I got to thinking about the plans for the night. As the background noise in the dorm faded into intermittent snores and the odd sound of someone tossing and turning I decided it was time to make my move.

  I gingerly peeled back the bed clothes, somehow managing to make it to ground level without disturbing the body sleeping on the bunk below.

  I had already planned my route across the squeaky floorboards, visualising the optimal path to take to in my head minimize the chance of arousing any suspicion.

  Once clear of the dorm, it was simply a matter of keeping to the shadows as I made my way to the Claus compound of Santa’s Workshop.

  Security was relativ
ely tight around the Claus compound. There has been a history of disgruntled employee break ins, usually resulting in petty vandalism, sometimes things took a more sinister turn.

  From memory the worst thing to happen was when a loner Elf called Rico managed to gain access. Rico was obsessed with Christmas and Santa was the living embodiment of all things festive.

  Rico ended up shanking a guard and was found on Santa’s kitchen floor surrounded by candid photos he’d been taking of Santa for weeks.

  Rumor has it he was abandoned in the middle of nowhere, miles from the workshop never to be seen again.

  Luckily for me the heightened vigilance of the guards had long since abated and they could usually be found dozing on the job, particularly at this time of night.

  I snuck past the guard’s checkpoint easily enough; the door blocking access to the Claus compound was a different story.

  Since the Rico incident, the rustic old fashioned lock had been replaced with swipe card access.

  The card I use to get into the Workshop lacks the correct clearance. Being the enterprising Elf that I am, I carry around tools perfect for disassembling and short-circuiting such devices.

  Years of building and repairing electronic toys has its advantages I guess.

  The Santa compound is unlike anything I’d ever laid eyes on. The rest of the Workshop had a certain old-timey aesthetic.

  Not this place.

  Santa’s private quarters were flashy, grand marble tiles adorned the floors and gold trim featured on nearly every surface.

  It made me sick, thinking about how the workers lived in comparison to this. I made sure to break the head of an expensive looking statue that flanked a brightly lit water feature on the way in.

  Someone has to keep up the timeless tradition of petty vandalism.

  After making my way through the luxurious interior I soon found myself at the doorway to his bedroom. I resign myself to carrying out my task. It was too late to turn back now.

  The room was pitch black, and if not for the thundering sound of that fat bastard’s snoring, I’d have no bearings at all.

  I ran my hands over his night stand, my fingers brushing across his cell phone.

  I made sure it was set to silent mode before retreating outside his bedroom door so I could scour his phone from the relative safety of the hall.

  It didn’t take long to find a string of explicit photos, none of them of Mrs Claus. I attached the mother load to an email addressed to Mrs Claus before hitting send, and that’s where my plan quickly fell apart.

  I had overlooked the fact her cell phone was within earshot, and not set to mute like the phone I’d just swiped was.

  I nearly shat myself when a loud jingle exploded from her phone. Without thinking I threw down Santa’s phone and took off down the hall, hiding in a cupboard under the stairs.

  From my vantage point I had a clear view of the happy couple’s bedroom door. I watched Mrs Claus stagger from her room, half asleep and bleary eyed. That was soon to change.

  I’m no lip reader, but I’m fairly sure the only words she said under her breath as her body snapped back into the land of the living were something along the lines of: “What the fuck!”

  With her face lit up from the screen of her cell phone, I watched her eyes dart backwards and forth, up and down as she scanned all the filthy photos of Santa that I had thoughtfully sent her.

  I could see she was torn. Torn between whether she should keep flicking through the photos of her man in more and more compromising positions, or whether to storm into the bedroom and kick his ass.

  Luckily for me she chose the latter option.

  As Mrs Claus made her way back into the bedroom, I used the moment to make my escape from the house, taking up a safer vantage point outside, perched under a window outside their room.

  Initially I was worried that I would miss out on any heated arguments. That fear was unfounded as I was soon to discover.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are you fat asshole? Who are these sluts huh? Am I not good enough for you?”

  Mrs Claus was really letting him have it. Santa could barely get a word in edge wise, still what good would it do? How was the slave driving piece of shit going to talk his way out this one?

  “I… I… I can explain Susie… Please just let me explain!” Santa stood across the room from Susie, arms extended with his palms flattened, ready to deflect any errant furniture or anything else that will be weaponized in the heat of the moment.

  “Explain? You can explain this shit to me? Do tell Chris… How do you explain this picture of your cock resting on top of this woman’s ass? Or how about this photo of you smiling, your fingers inserted in this other woman’s cunt? Please explain it to me Chris because apparently I’m missing something here!”

  I almost felt sorry for Santa as I watched him come to the realization that his situation was hopeless.

  Almost.

  He pulled on his boots, grabbing his bright red jacket that hung over the back of a chair and waddled slowly from the room.

  “I’m sorry Susie…” he uttered under his breath as Susie followed him from the room.

  “Yeah real fucking sorry Chris. I’m the fucking sorry one!” she snapped as they both headed down the hall.

  Susie stood on the porch as I watched Santa disappear into the garage, within moments he emerged in his sleigh, a dilapidated old reindeer pulling from the front.

  “Are you sure about this Susie?” Santa called out, his voice straining.

  “Just go… I don’t want to see you at the moment…” Susie collapsed onto the porch at the sight of Santa disappearing into the night; her head was in her hands, whimpering before bursting into tears.

  Any sense of guilt that I had in me soon faded away as I realized the situation I had engineered had finally bore its fruit.

  Susie was alone, ready for me to come along and comfort her. She was better off without Santa, and it was my job to show her the light.

  “Are… Are you OK?” I ask gingerly, as I approach Susie on the porch. She’s startled at first, but my friendly face and obvious concern soon puts her mind at ease.

  “How did you get into the compound?” her question catches me off-guard, but somehow I manage to lie about my presence and sell it with just enough confidence.

  “I um… Security sent me to uh… investigate reports of a disturbance…”

  I feel my cock harden as I gaze into her deep blue eyes for the first time; I catch a glimpse of her cleavage nestling beneath the tight night gown that clings to her body.

  I get the feeling she knows I’m looking but she doesn’t seem to mind, or at least she doesn’t let on that she does.

  “Yeah… you could say that…” Susie replies, I detect her voice quiver slightly.

  “Ma’am are you OK? You look pretty shaken up.” I reach into my pocket, and pull out a handkerchief, offering it to the beautiful figure sitting before me.

  She graciously accepts my offer. “Thanks… I’ve just had a fight with my Husband. I don’t think he needs any introduction. I kicked him out…”

  She dabs the handkerchief around her eyes, wiping the tears from her pale skin. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

  Susie hesitates for a moment; I can tell she is unsure whether to trust the stranger standing before her.

  “Fucking asshole has been cheating on me… God only knows for how long. Good old Susie huh? Sure knows how to pick her men…”

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s his loss. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…” Susie smiles sweetly, gazing into my eyes.

  “Thanks… that’s really kind of you…”

  “Do you mind if I take a load off? It’s been a hell of a day.” I ask as Susie shuffles over, there’s just enough room for us to sit side by side on the step.

  As I settle down next to her I can smell the sweet scent of her perfume, it dances around my nostrils. I feel my head spinning as my eyes lo
ok over every inch of her body.

  I sense her returning the gesture; her eyes seem transfixed on my tight trousers, particularly the growing bulge between my legs.

  “How did you find out?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “He sent me an email with pictures… pictures of himself balls deep in other women. It’s… it’s like he wanted me to catch him…”

  Susie broke down, her head leaning on my shoulder as I ran my hands over her arms, pulling her in tightly, gently squeezing her flesh as she sobbed against me.

  “It’s OK” I said softly. “You’ll find the right man soon enough…” I whispered into her ear as I pulled her even closer.

  Susie moaned with approval as I held her tight. I knew it wouldn’t be long until she was putty in my hands.

  Little did I know, I’d be the one doing the melting.

  I nearly leapt from my seat as I felt Susie’s soft but firm hand tracing a path up my inner thigh. I was supposed to be me seducing her but she had beaten me to it. I played the innocent card.

  “What… what are you doing?” I asked, my voice failing to hide my obvious desire.

  “What about Santa?” I asked as her hand neared dangerously close to my cock as it throbbed beneath my tight green pants.

  “Santa has been naughty this year… he doesn’t deserve any more presents from me…” she breathed heavily into my ear as she took my ear lobe between her supple lips, sucking hard on my sensitive flesh as my entire body trembled against hers.

  “You on the other hand… I can tell that you’ve been very good this year and I think you should be rewarded…” my cock pulsated as her hand closed tightly around it.

  She rubbed it hard through my pants as I felt the familiar sensation of pre-cum ooze from my slit.

  “My my, your cock puts Santa’s to shame…” she smiled wickedly as her eyes gazed down at my crotch.

  She looked up only to see me staring into the dark crevice between her two full breasts.

  “I can see you’re a breast man. Would you like to touch them?”

  “Very much so…” I said breathlessly, still at the mercy of her curious hands. Susie slid the straps from her negligee off her shoulders, I watched the smooth silk fabric slide down her body until it pooled on her lap, her full breasts finally naked under the soft porch light.