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Star
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2013
- Location
- London
Santa checked his tablet to make sure he had left everything for the child at this address. What was her name? Yes, that was it, Alice. Her file had a red star to show that she had written a complaint last year. This was an increasing feature of his work. There had always been complaints, of course. The girl whose doll’s eyes were the wrong colour or the boy whose Meccano set didn’t have all the pieces he needed to build a suspension bridge across his kitchen. But children wanted so much nowadays and there were so many different versions that you had to be careful to deliver just the right one.
He had just triple checked the list and convinced himself that it was all there, when he heard a voice behind him.
‘You’ve forgotten something. This is outrageous; it’s the second year running. I don’t want to have to complain again.’
He spun round to find a small child – 5 years old maybe – dressed in a thick dressing gown and holding a doll.
‘Alice,’ Santa adopted a stern tone, ‘you shouldn’t be up spying on me. You should be asleep.’
‘Sod that,’ she replied. ‘I had to stay awake to make sure you delivered everything. It’s your age probably; you’re nearly as old as grandma and she’s always forgetting things nowadays.’
Caught off guard by the tone of her response, Santa protested.
‘I’ve just checked the list. It’s all there. Check for yourself if you don’t believe me.’
She snatched the tablet from his hand and swiped her way to the bottom of her list.
‘There,’ she pointed, ‘you’ve forgotten the baby.’
Santa stared. Yes, she was right. There, at the bottom of the list, was her final request: “A baby please, I’d prefer a brother if possible. Don’t forget, not like last year.”
He sat down on a chair beside Alice and thought about how to explain.
‘I’m sorry, Alice. I don’t deliver that sort of thing. My elves can’t wrap up a baby and it would get too cold on my sleigh all night.’
Alice stared at him with contempt.
‘What do you think I am, a child or something? I know you don’t deliver babies like that. But you can give mummy a baby. That’s how my friend got her sister.’
‘Your friend?’ This was one mixed up kid. The sooner Santa got out of here, the better.
‘Yes, my friend, Janice. She stayed up to watch Santa and when he had left her presents under the tree, he went into her mummy’s bedroom and got into bed with mummy and there was lots of giggling and later that year she had a baby sister and her mummy and daddy told her that Santa had brought it and she knew that was true because she saw him.’ She paused for a breath.
Now Santa understood. Her friend had caught her father dressed up as Santa. How could he explain this to Alice without revealing the truth that lots of fathers did this?
‘I couldn’t do that, Alice. What would your daddy say?’
‘Daddy wouldn’t know anything about it. He left ages ago. So cut out the excuses and get on with it or you’ll be late for the other children.’
Santa began to mumble his excuses as he backed towards the door, but was brought up short by Alice’s petulant rebuke.
‘Stop trying to sneak away. Do as I say or I’ll scream and tell everyone you were touching me.’
She open her mouth, but Santa’s gloved hand had covered it before any sound could emerge.
‘OK, OK,’ he tried to sound sincere, ‘I’ll pop in to see your mummy. You stay right here.’
But Alice was having none of it.
‘No, I’ll just come along with you and wait outside the door.’
She led Santa to her mother’s bedroom door and pushed him through.
***
Alice’s mother opened her eyes as she heard the sound of her door. In the dim moonlight, her bleary eyes made out a figure clad in Santa Claus outfit. She reached out and pulled him towards her.
‘John, have you finished putting out Alice’s presents? Come back to bed.’
She threw back the covers and guided him to lie down beside her. With her right hand working up under his tunic to stroke his belly, she purred softly as she snuggled against the soft fur at his collar.
‘You must be very tired after flying around the world delivering all those presents,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘You deserve a rest. But …’ her hands slid under the waistband of his trousers, ‘… not until you’ve given me my present.’
Her fingers worked through his mat of hair to find a soft warm cock.
‘Oh,’ she exclaimed in mock surprise, ‘Santa’s tired. I expect that’s from servicing all those randy women who lie in wait for him on his rounds. But …’ her hand cradled his balls, ‘… I’m sure these big eggs have got enough left for me.’
If only he were waylaid by randy women, Santa thought. Mrs Claus kept him severely rationed. For the first six months of the year, she insisted that he had to recover from his exertions over the last Christmas. And for the next six months, she insisted that he had to conserve his energy for his exertions over the next Christmas. Which left a window of opportunity around mid-summer. The thought of Mrs Claus was not conducive to stiffening his resolve, but Alice’s mother had the remedy. She burrowed under the bedclothes and took him into her mouth. The warmth of her saliva, the tightness of her lips and the massaging of her tongue soon had Santa responding positively.
‘You lie back,’ she instructed, ‘and let me take the strain.’
Pushing her nightgown over her head, she climbed astride Santa and guided him into her wet and welcoming cunt. Her breasts bounced as she slowly gyrated around his cock, riding up and down, teasing him with changes of pace and direction. Finally, he could contain himself no longer and, with a loud grunt, let forth his stock of sperm.
With Santa’s supply washing its way towards her womb, Alice’s mother slid off, turned over and fell asleep. He slipped out of bed to find Alice standing in the doorway.
‘That’s not how you did it with Janice’s mother. She said you went on top and rammed her hard.’
Santa scrambled to cover his embarrassment.
‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat,’ he informed her as he eased past her and fled.
***
The next year Santa approached Alice’s house with care. He checked all around and found her sound asleep. Relieved, he checked his tablet and noted that this year there was no red star – she had not lodged a complaint. And, to his surprise, under the tree he found a note from Alice.
‘Dear Santa
Thank you for the present. It wasn’t exactly what I asked for, but I don’t mind having a sister. Perhaps I can have a brother for next year.
Luv
Alice xxx’
With the presents set out neatly and a final check that nothing was missing, he was about to leave when he heard a voice behind him.
‘You’ve forgotten something. What about my present?’
He turned to find Alice’s mother sitting quietly on a chair in a corner. Slowly she pulled her nightgown over her head.
***
Which may explain why 9% of children were conceived at Christmas.
He had just triple checked the list and convinced himself that it was all there, when he heard a voice behind him.
‘You’ve forgotten something. This is outrageous; it’s the second year running. I don’t want to have to complain again.’
He spun round to find a small child – 5 years old maybe – dressed in a thick dressing gown and holding a doll.
‘Alice,’ Santa adopted a stern tone, ‘you shouldn’t be up spying on me. You should be asleep.’
‘Sod that,’ she replied. ‘I had to stay awake to make sure you delivered everything. It’s your age probably; you’re nearly as old as grandma and she’s always forgetting things nowadays.’
Caught off guard by the tone of her response, Santa protested.
‘I’ve just checked the list. It’s all there. Check for yourself if you don’t believe me.’
She snatched the tablet from his hand and swiped her way to the bottom of her list.
‘There,’ she pointed, ‘you’ve forgotten the baby.’
Santa stared. Yes, she was right. There, at the bottom of the list, was her final request: “A baby please, I’d prefer a brother if possible. Don’t forget, not like last year.”
He sat down on a chair beside Alice and thought about how to explain.
‘I’m sorry, Alice. I don’t deliver that sort of thing. My elves can’t wrap up a baby and it would get too cold on my sleigh all night.’
Alice stared at him with contempt.
‘What do you think I am, a child or something? I know you don’t deliver babies like that. But you can give mummy a baby. That’s how my friend got her sister.’
‘Your friend?’ This was one mixed up kid. The sooner Santa got out of here, the better.
‘Yes, my friend, Janice. She stayed up to watch Santa and when he had left her presents under the tree, he went into her mummy’s bedroom and got into bed with mummy and there was lots of giggling and later that year she had a baby sister and her mummy and daddy told her that Santa had brought it and she knew that was true because she saw him.’ She paused for a breath.
Now Santa understood. Her friend had caught her father dressed up as Santa. How could he explain this to Alice without revealing the truth that lots of fathers did this?
‘I couldn’t do that, Alice. What would your daddy say?’
‘Daddy wouldn’t know anything about it. He left ages ago. So cut out the excuses and get on with it or you’ll be late for the other children.’
Santa began to mumble his excuses as he backed towards the door, but was brought up short by Alice’s petulant rebuke.
‘Stop trying to sneak away. Do as I say or I’ll scream and tell everyone you were touching me.’
She open her mouth, but Santa’s gloved hand had covered it before any sound could emerge.
‘OK, OK,’ he tried to sound sincere, ‘I’ll pop in to see your mummy. You stay right here.’
But Alice was having none of it.
‘No, I’ll just come along with you and wait outside the door.’
She led Santa to her mother’s bedroom door and pushed him through.
***
Alice’s mother opened her eyes as she heard the sound of her door. In the dim moonlight, her bleary eyes made out a figure clad in Santa Claus outfit. She reached out and pulled him towards her.
‘John, have you finished putting out Alice’s presents? Come back to bed.’
She threw back the covers and guided him to lie down beside her. With her right hand working up under his tunic to stroke his belly, she purred softly as she snuggled against the soft fur at his collar.
‘You must be very tired after flying around the world delivering all those presents,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘You deserve a rest. But …’ her hands slid under the waistband of his trousers, ‘… not until you’ve given me my present.’
Her fingers worked through his mat of hair to find a soft warm cock.
‘Oh,’ she exclaimed in mock surprise, ‘Santa’s tired. I expect that’s from servicing all those randy women who lie in wait for him on his rounds. But …’ her hand cradled his balls, ‘… I’m sure these big eggs have got enough left for me.’
If only he were waylaid by randy women, Santa thought. Mrs Claus kept him severely rationed. For the first six months of the year, she insisted that he had to recover from his exertions over the last Christmas. And for the next six months, she insisted that he had to conserve his energy for his exertions over the next Christmas. Which left a window of opportunity around mid-summer. The thought of Mrs Claus was not conducive to stiffening his resolve, but Alice’s mother had the remedy. She burrowed under the bedclothes and took him into her mouth. The warmth of her saliva, the tightness of her lips and the massaging of her tongue soon had Santa responding positively.
‘You lie back,’ she instructed, ‘and let me take the strain.’
Pushing her nightgown over her head, she climbed astride Santa and guided him into her wet and welcoming cunt. Her breasts bounced as she slowly gyrated around his cock, riding up and down, teasing him with changes of pace and direction. Finally, he could contain himself no longer and, with a loud grunt, let forth his stock of sperm.
With Santa’s supply washing its way towards her womb, Alice’s mother slid off, turned over and fell asleep. He slipped out of bed to find Alice standing in the doorway.
‘That’s not how you did it with Janice’s mother. She said you went on top and rammed her hard.’
Santa scrambled to cover his embarrassment.
‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat,’ he informed her as he eased past her and fled.
***
The next year Santa approached Alice’s house with care. He checked all around and found her sound asleep. Relieved, he checked his tablet and noted that this year there was no red star – she had not lodged a complaint. And, to his surprise, under the tree he found a note from Alice.
‘Dear Santa
Thank you for the present. It wasn’t exactly what I asked for, but I don’t mind having a sister. Perhaps I can have a brother for next year.
Luv
Alice xxx’
With the presents set out neatly and a final check that nothing was missing, he was about to leave when he heard a voice behind him.
‘You’ve forgotten something. What about my present?’
He turned to find Alice’s mother sitting quietly on a chair in a corner. Slowly she pulled her nightgown over her head.
***
Which may explain why 9% of children were conceived at Christmas.
