A Christmas themed erotic story!
So it’s Christmas – well it is at the time of writing!
I’m sure this book can be enjoyed all year round though!
It’s about a well-endowed Santa who needs to empty his heavy sack once a year – I think that gives you a clue 😉
Have a read of the except below the image, and if the magic of Christmas takes over, just hit the buy button!
This book is also in select, so if you have a subscription you can read it for free!
I kicked my slippers off and curled my legs underneath myself. The fire roared in the hearth and the smell of freshly baked mince pies wafted through the room.
The Christmas tree twinkled as it loomed over the pile of presents that surrounded its base, and my favourite Christmas song was just beginning on MTV. Our favourite Christmas song I reminded myself, although my husband was not here to sing along with me.
We had always said that Christmas was officially here when we first heard Fairytale of New York being given air time. The first time this year had got even earlier again. We had first heard it in mid-November – nowhere near Christmas in my book.
Well, now it was definitely Christmas. The 24th of December, my favourite night of the year, and I was spending it alone, yet again.
I was proud of Paul, my hard working husband, but I wished he could be here with me when I awoke on Christmas day, excited and eager to open my gifts. Maybe next year.
I drank the last of my wine as Kirsty MacColl and Shane MacGowan sang their last lines, and climbed off the sofa.
It was time for bed, but not before I did one last thing. It was a tradition that I’d carried out every year since I could walk, and being twenty-eight hadn’t curbed my enthusiasm.
I poured an inch of Brandy into one of our best crystal glasses and placed a warm mince pie on a plate next to it.
I knew the brandy and pie would be untouched when I came downstairs in the morning, but I still liked to stoke the tiny sparkle of belief in Santa which still burned gently, somewhere deep inside me.
I left the fire to burn out on its own and climbed the stairs to spend another Christmas eve alone in bed.
I brushed my hair in front of my dressing table mirror, and made a mental note to remove some of the long brown hairs from between the bristles before I next used it.
I removed my make-up and put on my favourite sleeping outfit – a simple pair of black panties, and climbed into bed.
I drifted off to sleep, with images of roast turkey and all the trimmings swimming around my mind. Paul would be home by ten in the morning, and we would prepare the meal together, as we did every year.
I slept peacefully until the early hours of the morning when I woke up with a heavy throb in my groin.
Almost immediately, I began missing Paul. Not for his bedtime conversation, or the feeling of him lying next to me, but for his cock.
I was the type of woman who would quite happily have sex ten times a day if possible, and if my husband couldn’t provide it, I was quite happy to reach orgasm the old-fashioned way.
I turned my bedside lamp on and leaned over the side of the bed. I opened the drawer in the base and the sight of my dildo gave me familiar tingles between my thighs and my nipples quickly hardened.
It was nearly nine inches of realistic rubber cock and my pussy began getting moist as I imagined its thick girth opening me up.
I slipped off my panties and spread my thighs wide. I ran a hand over my smooth mound, gasping as my thumb made contact with my swollen clit.
I grasped my dildo with my free hand and placed the thick head at the entrance to my hole, beginning to gently insert it into my tight entrance.
Using my other hand, I spread my slippery lips with two fingers and groaned as I slowly began feeding the thick length of the dildo into myself.
If you want to find out what happens when Santa makes an appearance, just click the buy button!