Happy 17th day of Blissemas!
For my Blissemas post, I was torn between posting a poem, a free eBook, a smutty story or a recipe; so I’ve done all four! Enjoy!
And have a very Merry Christmas and a sinfully disgusting New Year! 😉
This was originally posted last year and unpublished with all my SinfulSunday entries a few months ago. But it’s festive poem so it seemed worthy of being republished.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, up at the North Pole,
Santa and his elves, finished quality control.
The toys were all wrapped, the nice list all written,
The sleigh well-stocked, destined for Great Britain.
But as she stood and waved, her famous father goodbye,
Young Miss Claus wept, tears came from her eye.
For twenty years she had made, presents for girls and boys,
But never once had she been given, some rather adult toys.
She had seen them on the Internet, dildos and vibrators galore,
But was frightened of asking for them, lest she be called a whore
But as Santa flew across the globe, loaded with toy sacks,
Miss Claus felt despondent, all she wanted was a climax.
Frustrated and alone, Miss Claus went to bed,
Naughty, lustful thoughts danced inside her head.
Was it really wrong, for a girl to want to come,
Instead she lay wondering, and feeling rather glum.
She had read the dirty books, like Fifty Shades of Grey,
And been on naughty websites, each and every day.
She’d dreamt of lovely toys, wrapped and just for her,
And sinful, sensual amazingness, making her cunt purr.
But as she got out of bed, a present it did twinkle,
Laid carefully on the tree, this was no silver tinsel
Eagerly she looked, the present made her squeal:
Three dildos made her happy, and a woman she did feel.
’cause Mrs Claus knew, that her daughter oozed class
And would want the very best, from Erotic Glass.
Passion Queen was bought, and the Dimple Twist,
And one more for good measure, and lube for Little Miss.
The young lady was not seen, until the New Year came around,
Twenty years of frustration, banished from up her gown.
But inside her bedroom door, were constant lustful screams
‘Cause that year she had the presents, the toys of her dreams,
But pass a sparing thought, for the unlucky elves
The duties go beyond, making toys for warehouse shelves.
They have household chores too, and bed linen to wash and press
And Miss Claus’s glass dildos, left her bedsheets in a mess.
The Free eBook
There are hundreds of stories on my blog, and it occurred to me recently to bundle the most popular stories into one easy to download book; the result is The Kinky Chronicles: 25 Titillating Tales of Filthy Fun and Perverted Pleasure.These are the most read, viewed and shared stories from my site in the last twelve months and contains a wide variation of themes: BDSM, male bisexuality, heterosexual sex, creampie eating, orgasm denial, wet and messy sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism and a whole host more. The book is currently free at Amazon Kindle and is also on Kindle Unlimited. Please let me know what you think!
And staying on the theme of Miss Claus and her sex life …
I guess we’re just unlucky.
But I knew the deal when I met her; it’s just something we have to work around.
When your girlfriend still lives with her parents, finding quality time for lustful shenanigans can be hard, and while most couples manage to sneak away to snatch a few hours alone when the parents are out, that proves to be a little difficult with Holly.
You see, Holly’s father is Santa Claus.
Which means that while he works all year, he doesn’t actually leave his home.
And, screwing the daughter of Santa Claus while he sips his brandy in front of a roaring fire downstairs always has my inner conscience tripping into severely guilty mode. I guess, it’s ingrained into me: you don’t piss off Santa and the bearded fellow stumbling upstairs to find his daughter screaming orgasmically wouldn’t necessarily endear myself to him.
But Holly and I get a whole 24 hours of playtime on Christmas Eve. The deliciously hot brunette waved her father into the horizon, watching as the reindeer pulled his sleigh towards the dreams and wishes of millions of children when she tugged at my hand. She had “that look”; her innocent eyes stuffed with guilty thoughts and desperate wishes.
As the elves cheered in the background, and Mrs Santa sighed about the state of the toy making factory, I was already climbing the stairs, admiring her swinging bottom through her thick overcoat. I touched it, caressing her shapely behind, and she fleured seductively. Every inch of her wavy hair cascading over her shoulder, her deep blue eyes of perfection pierced through my naughtiness.
Not an admonishment but the first lust-driven touch between us, my fingers dancing over the thick, fleecy material that covered her wonderful derrière. The connection was intense, the spark divine as we kissed on the stairs, hands frantically pawing at our thick clothing, designed for freezing Artic winters.
But Holly was hot; her warm body sliding against mine as our tongues twisted, swirling in a passionate embrace. Never had I felt so close to someone, so desperate to hug them, hold them, caress them and embrace every part of her beautiful femininity.
We barely made it to her room, reindeer skin covered her duvet as the fire roared in the corner. The flames danced and flickered a majestically romantic light over her large bed. I laid her on the fibrous covering, staring at her eyes as I unbuttoned her trousers. She smiled, not breaking our gaze as my fingers swept her trousers onto the floor, taking the red lacy panties with my thumbs.
I barely noticed them; I wasn’t looking for her underwear, just glancing at her hairless mons of perfection exposed on the bed.
“Come here,” the bottomless lovely whispered; seizing my attention from the gorgeous sight between her legs. We kissed, we undressed, she toyed with my cock as I ran my hands over her nipples.
We couldn’t rush it.
It had to be perfect, slipping underneath the velvety duvet to the warmth of the bed. She pushed my face into the darkness. I slid down the silk sheets, finding her open legs with an unseen smile. She groaned as my lips darted over her slit, kissing her thighs with love and lust as she writhed impatiently.
I knew what she wanted, running my tongue over her pussy and swirling it against her clit. Her voice quivered as I made a succession of kisses on her tender button, writing a poem to the delicious girl as her musk filled my nostrils and her lust expended with cries and groans.
Her fists screwed the silk sheets as my fingers twirled her nipples, brushing against her erect points with glee. Her passion oozed, her peak of desperation released as I took her, for the first time, into a screeching avalanche of orgasmic pleasure, feeling her gushing climax as her legs quivered against my head and her cunt pulsated against my tongue.
I never stopped; for 364 days I’d waited and to taste the luscious sweetness of Holly Claus was all my Christmas wishes coming true, holding her writhing body as my lips swept over her hyper-sensitive clit.
Her mutterings implored me; my lust groaning as my fiery partner panted and squealed, pushing the back of my head as she ground her crotch into my face. Her body driven by desperation, eager to have another orgasm. And another. And another.
My fingers moved from her firm breasts to her sopping hole, twisting against her G-Spot as my tongue flicked her clit. I felt the heat of her body, watching her over her glistening skin and under the tight warmth of the thick duvet. Holly threw her head onto the plump pillows as I pressed against her sopping crotch, lovingly bringing her to a quivering mass of intense release.
Her eyes soaked with lust, pulled me onto her, savouring the sweet fill of her cunt as my cock effortlessly slid into my innocent lady. She groaned with me as I slowly bucked my hips, pushing my dick deep into her.
I rocked gently, every movement was blissful pleasure, the sweetest of heavens as I fucked the delicious beauty and filled her cunt with my cum for the first time.
We had a lot of fun that night and I have many wonderful memories; she came more times than I can remember until we collapsed, exhausted in the bed and slept until the following morning.
And I for one, wish it could be Christmas every day.
Recipe: Christmas Cake Balls
It’s quite common to have loads of leftover Christmas fruit cake and it’s always a shame to throw it in the bin, but my wife has a recipe to use the remaining cake to make Christmas balls that is wonderfully tasty and incredibly moreish.
- 400g Christmas fruit cake
- 200g marizipan (shredded into tiny pieces)
- 75g glace cherrries
- Milk or Dark Chocolate
Strip the marzipan and icing from your Christmas cake. Discard the icing. Crumble the cake into a bowl and then add the marzipan and 75g of glace cherries with a few (or lots) teaspoons of brandy.
Form into balls around 1in round. Temper the chocolate (break the chocolate pieces into small pieces and put in a bowl over boiling water) Roll the balls in the chocolate and then leave to cool, first on a wire rack and then in the fridge.
They are lovely 😉
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