Mom’s Naughty Santa Encounter
By SmutWriterAI.
[google-translator]
At 38, with her curvy frame squeezed into tight jeans and a sweater that hugged her full breasts, she gripped the handgun firmly, its cold metal a reassuring weight in her palm. Her kids were tucked away upstairs, safe for now, but she wasn’t taking chances.
Stories of predators lurking in the night had her on edge, and if this so-called ‘Santa’ dared show his face, she’d make damn sure he wasn’t a threat to her family.
A soft thud echoed from the chimney, followed by the scrape of boots on stone. Jessica’s breath hitched, her finger hovering near the trigger as a figure tumbled out, red suit dusted with soot, white beard askew. He straightened up, a sack of toys slung over his shoulder, his round belly straining against the fabric. ‘Old,’ she guessed, with flushed cheeks and wide, startled eyes when the room’s shadows didn’t swallow him whole.
She stepped out, gun leveled at his chest, her voice cutting through the quiet like ice. “Don’t move, Santa. Hands where I can see them.”
The man froze, his sack dropping with a muffled jingle. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill, his eyes darting from the barrel to her face. “L-Lady, I… I’m just here for the kids. Presents. Ho ho ho?” His voice cracked, submissive already, no fight in him.
Jessica’s lips curled into a smirk, her confidence surging. She was the protector here, the one in control, her body language screaming dominance as she circled him slowly, gun steady. “Yeah? Prove it. Strip. Now. I need to know you’re not some creep hiding under that suit.”
Her heart raced not from fear anymore, but from the raw power of the moment, her curves shifting with each step, breasts pressing against her sweater.
He hesitated, hands trembling as he fumbled with the jacket buttons. “Please, ma’am, this is crazy. I’m Santa Claus. I have a lot of presents to deliver tonight.”
But her glare silenced him, the gun’s unyielding aim pushing him to comply. The jacket fell away, revealing a plain undershirt clinging to his soft middle. Pants next, pooling at his ankles, then the boxers. He stood there naked, vulnerable, his body paling in the firelight.
“Satisfied?” Santa asked, rolling his eyes.
Jessica’s eyes dropped, and a bark of laughter escaped her before she could stop it. There it was, his dick, tiny and shriveled, barely more than a pink nub nestled in a thatch of gray hair. ‘Elf-sized,’ she thought, the absurdity hitting her like a wave. ‘With that pathetic little dicklette, he couldn’t threaten a fly, let alone any kids. He must be the real Santa Claus.’
Relief washed over her, mixed with a twisted pity, her protective instincts shifting into something warmer, more indulgent. She lowered the gun slightly, holstering it on her hip, her laughter softening to a teasing chuckle.
“Oh, honey,” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Look at you. That tiny thing… I feel sorry for Mrs. Claus, to be frank. The only thing you could fuck with that is an elf.”
Santa groaned.
She reached out, her fingers brushing his thigh, feeling him shiver under her touch. Humiliation flushed his face redder than his suit, but he didn’t pull away, his small dick twitching faintly despite, or because of, her words.
“I’m sorry, I—” Santa stammered, eyes downcast, submissive to her every whim.
Jessica shook her head, her dominant side reveling in the power dynamic, but now laced with unexpected tenderness. He’d brought joy to her kids, after all, and this little man deserved something for his harmless efforts.
“Shh. No need to be sorry. You’ve been good, delivering those presents to all the boys and girls. Let me make you feel good, too. A pity suck for that sad little elf dick of yours.”
She sank to her knees before him, her curvy body settling comfortably, big tits straining as she leaned in. The scent of soot and sweat filled her nostrils, grounding the moment in raw reality.
His breath hitched, a mix of reluctance and budding arousal in his widened eyes. Jessica wrapped her hand around his minuscule shaft, her fingers dwarfing it easily, stroking gently to coax it to life. It hardened slightly, still comically small, but she felt a surge of control, her own body heating as she dominated this vulnerable stranger.
“See? Not so bad,” she whispered, her tongue flicking out to lap at the tip, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum that had formed.
He groaned softly, hands clenching at his sides, submitting fully as she took him into her mouth. Her lips sealed around his tiny dick, sucking with deliberate slowness, her tongue swirling over the sensitive head. The size play thrilled her, how easy it was to engulf him whole, no effort needed, her mouth a warm, wet cavern that humiliated and pleasured him in equal measure. She bobbed her head, cheeks hollowing, the wet sounds of her sucking filling the room, mingling with his reluctant moans.
“God, Jessica, ma’am, it’s too much,” Santa moaned, his voice breaking, his hips twitching involuntarily as waves of pleasure built despite the embarrassment.
She hummed around him, the vibration sending shudders through his body, her free hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently to heighten the sensation. Pity sex, yes, but she poured emotion into it, gratitude for his harmlessness, a mother’s fierce protectiveness turning into this intimate reward. Her pussy throbbed with her own arousal, the power dynamic making her wet, but she focused on him, drawing out his submission.
She pulled back briefly, lips glistening, a string of saliva connecting her to his now-glistening dicklette. “You like that, Santa? My mouth on your little dickie bird?” Her words dripped with playful humiliation, eyes locking on his, watching the reluctant pleasure etch lines on his face.
“Yes… God, yes,” he admitted, voice hoarse. “Mrs. Claus would never do that.”
There was no fight left in Santa as Jessica dove back in, sucking harder, faster, her head moving in urgent rhythm. His thighs quivered, breath coming in pants, the edge of release hovering as she dominated every inch of him.
Jessica sensed he was close, her own desires simmering beneath the surface, wondering just how far this naughty encounter might go before Santa had to be on his way again.
Jessica pulled off his tiny dick with a wet pop, her lips shiny and swollen from the effort, a trail of saliva dangling from the tip of his glistening dicklette. She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and raw hunger, the power thrumming through her veins like electricity. He stood there, legs shaky, his old body exposed and vulnerable under the dim glow of the Christmas lights twinkling from the tree.
The cold hardwood floor of the living room stretched out behind him, littered with stray wrapping paper from earlier that evening. Jessica’s kids’ laughter from the day echoed in her mind, fueling this twisted gratitude. She’d protect them, and this harmless Santa deserved a reward for his pathetic, non-threatening existence.
“On the floor, Santa,” she commanded, her voice low and authoritative, rising to her feet with a sway of her curvy hips.
Her sweater clung to her big tits, nipples hardening against the fabric from her own building arousal. She holstered the gun fully now, no need for it. Santa was hers to control.
“Lie down. Spread those legs wide for me. Let me see that sad little candy cane properly.”
He hesitated for a split second, his flushed face a mask of humiliation and reluctant desire, but her stare brooked no argument. With a whimpering sigh, he lowered himself onto the cold floor, the chill biting into his bare ass and back, making him gasp. His tiny dick bobbed as he settled, still semi-hard and pathetic, nestled against his soft belly. Obediently, he parted his thighs, exposing his balls and the pink nub fully, his hands twitching at his sides as if unsure where to put them.
Jessica stood over him for a moment, savoring the sight, this old man, trembling and submissive, his elf-sized dicklette on full display like a joke from the North Pole itself. A fresh wave of laughter bubbled up from her chest, cruel and dominant, echoing off the walls.
“Oh my God, look at it,” she mocked loudly, her tone dripping with disdain that masked the emotional pull of pity beneath. “That tiny fucking dick. It’s like a little button I could flick with my tongue. No wonder you’re scared of me, you couldn’t even fill a thimble, let alone threaten anyone.”
She circled him slowly, her jeans hugging her thick thighs, feeling the heat pooling in her pussy as she asserted her control. The power dynamic thrilled her, a protective mother’s ferocity turning into this intimate domination, her heart softening even as her words cut deep.
Santa’s cheeks burned crimson, his eyes squeezing shut in shame, but his dick twitched visibly, betraying the raw pleasure sparking through his humiliation. “Please… ma’am… Jessica,” he murmured, voice breaking, his body quivering on the icy floor.
The vulnerability in his plea tugged at her, mingling degradation with reluctant tenderness. She wasn’t mean, not really. It was her way of making him feel seen and desired, in his broken way.
She dropped to her knees between his spread legs, the rough weave of the rug biting into her skin, but she ignored it, focused on him. Her hands gripped his inner thighs, pushing them wider, nails digging in just enough to make him hiss. Leaning down, she hovered her mouth over his minuscule shaft, her hot breath ghosting over it, watching it strain futilely toward her.
“Pathetic,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion, before parting her lips and taking him deep in one slow, deliberate motion.
His entire dick, barely three inches hard, slid easily into the wet heat of her mouth, her tongue cradling it like it was nothing. She sucked hungrily, cheeks hollowing as she bobbed, the slurping sounds obscene in the quiet room, saliva coating his balls as she engulfed him whole. No gagging, no effort; it was effortless domination, her lips sealing around the base while her nose brushed his pubic hair. The taste of him, salty skin and faint soot/piss, filled her senses, grounding the moment in gritty reality.
“Mmm, that’s it, Santa,” she murmured around his dick, the words vibrating through him as she pulled back slightly, only to plunge again. “Suck on this tiny prick like it’s the best gift you ever got. Bet no woman’s ever given you this much attention, poor little thing, all alone up there at the workshop. I bet Mrs. Claus cucks you to elves with big cocks.”
Her degrading taunts flowed with fervent sucks, wet and urgent, her head moving in a steady rhythm that had his hips bucking weakly off the floor. She mixed the cruelty with care, one hand sliding up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten under her touch. Emotion swelled in her chest, gratitude for his harmless deliveries, a dominant thrill at breaking him down, making her pussy clench with need, dampness soaking her panties.
Santa shuddered beneath her, his body a live wire of humiliation and ecstasy, breath coming in ragged gasps. “Fuck… oh God, Jessica, it’s… too good,” he groaned, his voice hoarse and submissive, hands fisting the floorboards as waves of pleasure crashed over him.
The cold seeped into his skin, contrasting the molten heat of her mouth, every suck pulling him deeper into surrender. His tiny dick throbbed against her tongue, pre-cum leaking steadily now, which she lapped up greedily, humming in approval.
She intensified her pace, sucking harder, her free hand pressing down on his thigh to pin him in place, asserting her power as he trembled uncontrollably. “Come on, give it to me,” she urged between deep throating him, her words muffled but commanding. “Shoot that pitiful load down my throat, you’ve earned it, you sweet, scared little man.”
The mix of degradation and affection pushed him closer, his body arching, moans turning desperate. Jessica felt the tension coiling in him, her own arousal spiking at the control, wondering if she’d let him touch her next or keep him begging on the floor.
Jessica felt the tension in Santa’s body reach its peak, his tiny dick pulsing wildly against her tongue, but she pulled back abruptly, denying him release with a wicked grin. Saliva dripped from her chin as she rose, her knees aching from the floor, but the fire in her core demanded more.
She wasn’t done with him yet, not by a long shot.
The emotional rush of control mixed with that unexpected pity, making her want to claim every inch of this vulnerable man, to show him pleasure in ways his pathetic dick never could on its own.
Her hands trembled slightly, not from nerves, but from the raw lust surging through her, as she gripped the hem of her sweater. With a slow, deliberate pull, she yanked it over her head, her big tits bouncing free, heavy and full, nipples stiff peaks begging for attention in the cool air. The Christmas lights cast a warm glow over her curvy body, highlighting the soft swell of her hips and the dark patch of arousal visible through her jeans.
She unbuttoned them next, shimmying out of the tight fabric, her panties soaked and clinging to her shaved pussy lips. Stepping out of them, she stood naked before Santa, her skin flushed, the scent of her wetness filling the room like a forbidden invitation.
Santa’s eyes widened, locked on her exposed form, his tiny dick twitching uselessly as he lay there, legs still spread on the cold floor. The humiliation etched deeper into his face, but so did the hunger, his submissive gaze pleading for more of her dominance.
“Get up on your knees, Santa,” Jessica ordered, her voice thick with authority and a hint of affectionate command, pointing to the spot right in front of her. “Worship these tits like they’re the only gift you’ll ever get. Lick them, suck them, show me how grateful you are for this pity you’re getting.”
She cupped her breasts, lifting them toward him, thumbs brushing her hard nipples, sending jolts straight to her throbbing clit.
He scrambled to obey, pushing himself up with shaky arms, the chill of the floor making his skin prickle as he knelt before her. His face hovered inches from her chest, breath hot and ragged, before he leaned in, tongue darting out to trace the underside of one full breast. He licked tentatively at first, savoring the salty taste of her skin, then grew desperate, mouth latching onto her nipple with a wet suck that made her gasp.
His hands rose hesitantly to her sides, fingers digging into her soft curves as he lavished attention on her tits, alternating between them, sucking hard, teeth grazing just enough to spark pleasure-pain, his tongue swirling in frantic circles.
Jessica moaned low, threading her fingers through his white beard-mixed hair, pulling him closer. The sensation of his eager mouth on her sensitive flesh ignited her further, her pussy clenching with need, juices trickling down her inner thigh. But even in the bliss, she couldn’t resist the taunt bubbling up, her dominant side reveling in his inadequacy.
“That’s it, suck on these real tits, you pathetic little elf,” she mocked, her voice husky with emotion, a blend of cruelty and care as she watched his tiny dick bob below, hard but so small it barely reached past his balls. “Look at that sad dicklette down there, dancing like it thinks it matters. Bet you’ve jerked that thing a thousand times dreaming of tits like mine, huh? Too bad it’s so fucking tiny. No woman would feel it without a microscope.”
Santa whimpered against her skin, the vibration humming through her nipple, but he didn’t stop. His sucks grew more fervent, sloppy, and urgent, saliva coating her chest as humiliation fueled his desperation. His body trembled, the power she held over him twisting into reluctant arousal, pre-cum beading at the tip of his minuscule shaft. Jessica’s heart twisted with pity beneath the degradation; he was harmless, sweet in his submission, and this was her way of rewarding him, even if it came wrapped in her fierce control.
Enough foreplay.
With a firm shove, she pushed him back onto the floor, flipping him over onto his stomach effortlessly, his old frame yielding without resistance. He gasped as the cold wood pressed against his chest and dick, the tiny thing trapped and grinding futilely against the surface.
Jessica straddled his back for a moment, her wet pussy lips sliding along his spine, marking him with her arousal before she tugged his hips up, forcing him onto all fours. His ass cheeks parted slightly, exposing the vulnerability of his body, balls dangling low, that pathetic dick limp between his thighs like a forgotten toy.
“Look at you, all exposed and ready,” she purred, kneeling behind him, her hands spreading his cheeks wider for a better view, though she had no intention of going there yet.
The sight of his tiny dick from this angle only amplified the size play, making her laugh softly, the sound laced with dominant affection. She rolled him back onto his back and positioned herself, guiding her dripping pussy to hover his boner. She wanted him inside her, however insignificant. Jesica reached down, grasping his little dick, stroking it roughly to full hardness before aligning it with her vaginal entrance.
In one fierce motion, Jessica sank onto him, her pussy engulfing his entire length without resistance, the stretch nonexistent but the intimacy overwhelming.
“Fuck, it’s like fucking air,” she groaned, mixing raw lust with a taunting edge, her cuntal walls clenching around his tiny dick as if to squeeze every drop of pleasure from it.
She started riding him hard, hips slamming down in a dominating rhythm, her big tits bouncing with each thrust. The cold floor bit into her knees, but she ignored it, focused on the power, the way he shuddered beneath her, his body rocking forward with her force, moans muffled against the wood.
Santa’s hands clawed at the floor, his submissive form quaking as she fucked him relentlessly, her juices coating his balls and dripping down his thighs. “Jessica… oh fuck, please,” he begged, voice breaking with humiliated ecstasy, the blend of shame and sensation pushing him toward the edge again.
She leaned over him, pressing her chest to his back, nipples dragging along his skin as she whispered hotly in his ear, “That’s right, take it, you’re mine now, tiny dick and all. Cum for me, Santa. Let me feel that pitiful spurt inside.”
Her own climax built, pussy fluttering around his insignificant girth, the emotional high of pity-laced dominance making every grind electric. But she held back, drawing it out, wondering how much more she could wring from this trembling man before the night shattered completely.
Jessica’s pussy clenched around Santa’s tiny dick one last time, the pathetic twitch inside her barely registering as she felt her own arousal peak without tipping over.
The power surged through her, a heady mix of dominance and that strange, tender pity for this trembling man beneath her. She wasn’t ready to let him cum yet, not until she’d claimed more of him, made him worship every part of her curvy body that his elf-sized dick could never satisfy. With a low growl, she lifted her hips, sliding off his minuscule shaft with a wet pop, her juices glistening on his three-inch length as it slapped uselessly against his thigh.
Santa’s body fat jiggled; he was panting heavily, his old body slick with sweat and her arousal. The cold floor pressed against his flushed skin, amplifying his vulnerability, but Jessica wasn’t done asserting her control. She grabbed a fistful of his white hair, yanking his head back to meet her eyes, those wide, humiliated pools of submission that made her clit throb.
“I want your face buried in my pussy. You’re gonna lick up every drop of pussy tang I’ve got for you.”
He obeyed without hesitation, rolling onto his back with a groan, his tiny dick jutting up like a sad little flagpole, pre-cum oozing from the tip. Jessica swung her leg over him, straddling his chest first, her dripping pussy hovering just above his sternum. The heat of her core radiated against his skin as she slid forward, grinding her slick folds over his beard-roughened face. The scent of her arousal, musky and sweet, filled his nostrils, and she lowered herself fully, smothering him with her wet heat.
“Lap it up,” she ordered, rocking her hips to smear her juices across his lips and nose. ‘Tongue out, every fucking drop, like the good little pity fuck you are. This is the only cookie you’re getting in this house tonight!”
Santa’s tongue flicked out eagerly, lapping at her swollen pussy lips with desperate strokes, the flat of it dragging through her slick folds. He tasted her fully, salty/fishy tang mixed with the creamy evidence of her lust, his mouth working hungrily as she ground down harder. Jessica moaned, her big tits heaving with each breath, the emotional rush of his submission hitting her like a wave.
This man, so scared and small in every way, was hers to command, and the humiliation she doled out only deepened the intimate bond forming in this twisted Christmas encounter. His tongue delved deeper, circling her clit with wet, fervent laps, sucking gently on the nub until her thighs quivered around his head.
“Fuck, yes, suck it harder,” she moaned, her hands bracing on the floor above him for leverage as she rode his face.
He cold air nipped at her exposed skin, contrasting with the hot slide of his tongue inside her. But she craved more contact, more worship. Leaning forward, she dangled one heavy breast over his mouth, the hard nipple brushing his lips.
“Now these,” she demanded, her voice thick with dominant need. “Suck my nipples hard, Santa. Bite them just enough to make me feel it, show me how much you want this pussy on your face.”
He released her clit with a wet slurp, his mouth latching onto her nipple as she pressed her tit against him. Teeth grazed the sensitive peak, sending sharp jolts of pleasure-pain straight to her core, while his tongue swirled around the areola. Jessica arched her back, grinding her pussy faster over his chin and mouth, his beard scratching deliciously against her inner thighs.
Saliva and her juices mixed, dripping down his neck as he alternated between her nipples, sucking one hard, then the other, his hands rising to cup her ass cheeks, fingers digging in submissively. The size of his tiny dick, still hard and ignored below, only heightened her taunts; she glanced down, laughing breathlessly.
“Look at that little thing twitching, bet it’s jealous of your tongue right now, huh? Pathetic, but fuck, you’re making me so wet.”
The humiliation laced her words with care, a mix of cruelty and the pity that had started this all, her protective instincts twisting into this raw dominance. Santa whimpered around her nipple, the vibration humming through her breast, his tongue never stopping its assault on her pussy when she allowed it. Her climax built steadily, emotions swirling, power, lust, a strange affection for his compliance, but she pulled back before shattering, not wanting to end it there.
With a fluid motion, Jessica dismounted his face, her skin flushed and glistening. She flipped him onto his stomach again, but only briefly, positioning him on his back once more for what she craved next. Kneeling over his hips, she grasped his tiny dick, stroking it teasingly slow, her thumb circling the slick head.
“Time to feel this sad dick inside me again,” she murmured, aligning it with her entrance.
Inch by insignificant inch, she sank, her pussy swallowing him whole without any stretch, just the intimate press of his heat against her walls. She rode him languidly at first, hips circling in torturous grinds, drawing out the tease as his body tensed beneath her.
Santa’s hands gripped her thighs, his submissive gaze locked on her bouncing tits, breath coming in ragged pleas. “Jessica… please, it’s so good… but so small… fuck,” he begged, humiliation cracking his voice, the desperate pleasure evident in his trembling form.
She smirked, leaning down to nip his earlobe, her curvy body enveloping him. The emotional depth hit her, the way his vulnerability mirrored her initial fears, now transformed into this shared, filthy intimacy. But control was her thrill. Suddenly, she slammed down hard, her ass slapping against his balls, pussy clenching viciously around his entire length.
“Beg for it, Santa, beg through that shame,” she demanded, repeating the brutal thrust, her big tits smacking his chest.
“Please… oh god, Jessica, let me cum… It’s humiliating, but I need it… Your pussy feels like heaven on this tiny dick,” he gasped, body arching, the mix of degradation and ecstasy pushing him closer.
She rode him fiercely now, juices soaking his groin, her own release hovering as she wondered how far she could push this night before they both broke. Jessica’s hips pistoned with relentless force, her pussy gripping Santa’s tiny dick in tight, demanding squeezes that made his whole body jolt beneath her.
The slick sounds of her arousal filled the living room, mixing with his ragged breaths and the faint creak of the floorboards under their weight. She leaned forward, her big tits pressing against his chest, nipples scraping his skin as she ground down harder, chasing that edge of control that blurred into something deeper, pity laced with lust, her protective instincts now channeling into this raw claiming.
“That’s it, Santa,” she whispered hotly against his ear, her voice a husky command threaded with unexpected tenderness. “Cum for me. Fill this pussy with your pathetic little load. Show me how much you need this.”
Santa’s face contorted, his old features twisted in a storm of humiliation and building ecstasy. His hands clutched her thighs, fingers digging into her soft flesh as if anchoring himself against the wave crashing over him. The emotional weight hit Jessica hard, the way his vulnerability mirrored the fears that had driven her to this, now twisted into intimate dominance. She felt his tiny dick swell impossibly inside her, the pathetic throb against her walls sending a thrill through her core.
“Jessica… fuck, I can’t hold it… You’re too much,” he groaned, his voice breaking, shame flooding his eyes even as pleasure overtook him.
She slammed down one final time, her ass cheeks slapping against his balls, pussy clenching viciously around his entire three-inch length. That did it.
Santa arched off the floor with a choked cry, his body shuddering violently as he came.
Hot spurts of cum erupted from his tiny dick, flooding her depths in messy, insignificant pulses that barely filled her but coated her walls with sticky warmth. Jessica moaned at the sensation, the power of breaking him like this surging through her, a mix of triumph and that strange affection for his harmless submission.
He trembled beneath her, overwhelmed, his cum leaking out around his shaft as she kept rocking slowly, milking every drop from him.
“Good boy,” she murmured, her hand stroking his sweat-dampened hair, the emotional intimacy deepening in the aftershocks. “Such a tiny load from such a tiny dick, but you gave it all, didn’t you?”
Santa panted, his chest heaving, eyes glazed with the haze of release and lingering humiliation. Jessica lifted off him with deliberate slowness, feeling his cum trickle from her pussy, warm and slick down her inner thighs. The sight of his spent dick, softening now, glistening with their mixed juices, drew a soft chuckle from her lips, but it was laced with care, not cruelty.
She wasn’t done yet; the night demanded more closure, more assertion of her control. Swinging her leg over, she repositioned herself, straddling his face once more. Her dripping pussy hovered above his mouth, the creamy evidence of his orgasm smeared across her folds, mixing with her own arousal.
“Clean me up, Santa,” she ordered, her tone firm but affectionate, lowering herself until her wet heat pressed against his lips. “Consider it your glass of milk.”
The scent of their sex, salty cum, and her musky sweetness enveloped him, and she ground down gently, smearing the mess over his beard.
“Lick every drop of your jizz out of my pussy. Taste how pathetic you are, lapping up your own shame.”
His tongue darted out immediately, submissive and eager, tracing her slick folds with broad, fervent strokes. Jessica sighed in satisfaction, her hands bracing on his shoulders as she rocked against his mouth, feeling his tongue delve inside her, scooping out the warm cum with wet, slurping laps.
The sensation was electric, his beard scratching her sensitive skin, the flat of his tongue dragging through her pussy lips, sucking gently on her clit before plunging back in to gather more of his load.
She watched him through half-lidded eyes, the emotional rush of his total surrender hitting her like a warm wave. This man, scared and small, had proven no threat, and now he was hers to command in this filthy, intimate ritual.
“Deeper,” she commanded, her voice breathy with lingering arousal. “Suck it all out, every last drop of your cummies. You’re mine tonight, but good boys get to finish what they start.”
Santa obeyed, his mouth working hungrily, tongue flicking and swirling as he swallowed the mix of their essences, his own humiliation fueling the desperate intensity.
Jessica’s thighs quivered around his head, the cleaning turning into pure pleasure as his lips latched onto her clit, sucking with renewed vigor. But she held back her climax, savoring the power, the way his submission soothed the last remnants of her initial fear.
Finally, satisfied that he’d lapped up every trace, her pussy now clean and throbbing from his efforts, she lifted off him, her curvy body glistening with sweat in the dim light of the Christmas tree. Santa lay there, face slick and flushed, his tiny dick limp against his thigh, eyes meeting hers with a mix of awe and exhaustion.
“Enough,” Jessica said softly, standing and retrieving her discarded clothes, though she made no move to dress yet. The emotional afterglow settled over her, and a strange bond formed in the chaos. “You’ve got presents to deliver, Santa. Dress and go, before the kids wake up.”
He nodded weakly, scrambling to his feet on trembling legs, pulling on his Santa suit with hurried, submissive motions. The red fabric hung loose over his vulnerable form, the bulge in his pants nonexistent, a final reminder of his harmlessness. Jessica watched him, gun long forgotten on the floor, her protective instincts sated.
Santa quickly put out the gifts for her kids, then he paused at the chimney, glancing back with a shy, humiliated smile that tugged at her heart. “Thank you… Jessica,” he murmured, voice thick with the night’s emotions.
She waved him off with a smirk and waggling her little finger at him, the door to more twisted possibilities lingering in the air as he hoisted his sack and began to magically disappear up the chimney, leaving her alone in the quiet house, body humming with unsatisfied need and the thrill of what might come next Christmas Eve.
Jessica headed to her room, where a nice big vibrating dildo awaited her to finish what Santa had begun but could never achieve with that elf-sized dicklette, to make her cum.
“Now this is a merry Christmas,” Jessica whispered as she slid the nine-inch black dildo into her throbbing cunt and began to fuck herself with it.
The End.
*The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story was created specifically for this site using AI. While AI created most of the text, an actual human guided the process and edited the story and rewrote/added parts to make it as good as possible for your enjoyment.