1. Bad Santa: A Christmas Eve (Part 1)


    Date: 12/18/2014, Categories: BDSM, Sex Humor, Author: catherine-belmont, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    neglected her breasts, slowly slipping open the bows on the sides of her panties until they fell to the side. Her hand became more insistent, pushing aside her panties, her ass rising up from the bed until her panties slipped to the foot of the bed, no longer needed. With one hand pulling back one slick pussy lip, the cool air of the room blowing on her superheated flesh; her finger began to work her pussy up into a frenzied state. Her hips began to move, first up and down gently as if she were trying to hide her arousal from her unseen lover. That changed as soon as two fingers found her pussy, sliding easily into the slick passage, Monika clamping down on them, her lips purring to her unseen lover, “Can you feel me?” Monika fingered her tight, hot pussy for almost a half hour, always wet but never even getting close to cumming. And the longer she went, the worse it got; her mind now just trying to reconcile with her inability to cum instead of trying to cum. She was so horny, but she felt desperate and impatient. She finally stopped, putting her panties back on, buttoning up her top. She flipped off the light, leaving the Christmas tree lights on. She slipped her hand into her panties, closing her eyes to fall into a fitful sl**p. She began to dream, more like nightmares as her unfulfilled arousal overcame all else in her mind. She woke up with a start; the loud noise on her roof scaring her. It hadn’t snowed for a while so there shouldn’t be any snow up there that ...
    might have slid down. What the hell was going on! Her attention turned to the fireplace, sounding like a flock of birds were flying down it. Or maybe bats. Monika was sure she was dreaming, closing her eyes and then opening them. There he was standing in front of the fireplace, not a hair out of place as though he just seemed to vaporize onto that spot. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” Even though she knew the first answer, she still asked it because it was as though her mind had already conjured him up. His voice was loud and demanding when he spoke. “I thought the red suit and white beard was a dead giveaway,” he said sarcastically. Damn girls were sometime more stupid than he remembered. Hot, tight pussies are what attracted him. And they would do anything for Santa. He took advantage of that and them. “If you’re Santa Claus, I’m the Queen of England!” She looked at him. Yes, he was wearing a red suit, the collar lined with white fur, a thick leather belt around his middle and black boots. He wasn’t fat and jolly though; his body muscular, his waist trim, his arms thick with muscles. His beard was white, as was his hair, but it was neatly trimmed as though he had just trimmed in minutes ago. And it wasn’t long, no more than an inch. And the black belt looked more like a belt you would spank and errant c***d with, not hold up his pants. She looked down at his red suit, blushing shamefully when her eyes stopped at his crotch, the thick bulge in his red trousers ...
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