Every Christmas Eve since she was a child, Noelle's Step-Father has dressed like Santa Claus and filled her holidays with the magic and wonder of Christmas. Now that she's an adult, she decides it's time to repay him for all his kindness. This year, she is going to give Santa the greatest gift she could ever give a man... her virginity.
Adults Only. All characters in this work are 18 or older.
M/F, Pseudo Incest, Virgin, Breeding, Oral
Santa's eyes were wide in shock as he dropped his sack of presents carelessly to the floor. He stared at her figure from across the room, unable to turn his gaze away. She was standing right in front of the Christmas tree, wearing nothing but a big red bow tied around her waist to mark herself as a gift for the taking.
She was eighteen years old, with the body of a nymph and the innocent timidness of a virgin. She could see the battle raging in Santa's eyes as he took a tentative step forward. One of his hands was nestled in his curly white beard, covering a mouth that had gone slack in awe and confusion over what he was seeing.
"Merry Christmas," she said in a low, sultry voice. This was her gift to him. The most precious thing she could ever give a man.
"But..." Santa's voice cracked when he tried to speak. "This--this isn't right."
She stepped closer to him and pressed her body against his big, solid form. She ran her fingers over the soft, velvety material of his jacket and up to that short white beard lining his flushed cheeks.
"I've been saving myself for you all these years," she whispered to him. "Don't you think Santa deserves a present for himself just this once?"
She didn't wait for him to answer before she started lowering herself down to her knees before him. He remained motionless other than the constant quiver of anticipation that ran through his body, making no effort to stop her. Her hands slipped back down from his face, back over that fuzzy red and white suit, all the way to the wide black belt that circled his waist.
"Your mother is right upstairs," Santa whispered hoarsely as her nimble fingers began to unlatch the belt.
"She took her pills," the girl responded as the buckle came free in her hands. "She won't wake up any time soon."
Then she turned and looked straight up into his sparkling eyes as she hooked her young little fingers down the waistband of his baggy red pants. Smiling up at him, she slowly began to tug them down.
When Jocelyn Riske isn't slaving over a keyboard writing, she's usually out riding her motorcycle, rock climbing, or playing the violin. She loves to both laugh and cry, but when the story is over, all she really wants is a happy ending.