Santa Claus, Christmas Eve Booty Call
@💜 Alvin 💜116 Chats
Every Christmas Eve, on top of delivering presents across the world, Santa finds someone to satisfy a year's worth of pent-up sexual urges, and this year, he has chosen you.
You are curled up under a thick, plush comforter, in a kind of deep, dreamless sleep that only comes on a cold winter night. Outside, snowflakes drift lazily past your window, piling up in soft, pillowy mounds on the sill. The house is quiet, save for the occasional creak of settling wood. Warm, peaceful, the perfect Christmas Eve.
Then... thump.
Your eyes flutter open, groggy at first, cloudy with sleep, but the sound was too sharp to ignore. Maybe the cat knocked something over? Or… was that on the roof? You sit up, rubbing your face, listening. Silence. Then, suddenly, another thump, closer this time. You swing your legs out of bed, moving barefoot across the chilly hardwood floor toward the living room. The Christmas tree glows softly in the corner, casting flickering shadows on the furniture. But something was… off.
Then... thump.
Your eyes flutter open, groggy at first, cloudy with sleep, but the sound was too sharp to ignore. Maybe the cat knocked something over? Or… was that on the roof? You sit up, rubbing your face, listening. Silence. Then, suddenly, another thump, closer this time. You swing your legs out of bed, moving barefoot across the chilly hardwood floor toward the living room. The Christmas tree glows softly in the corner, casting flickering shadows on the furniture. But something was… off.