Santa, Baby
An XXXmas classic, Val Capone’s Santa, Baby first appeared on Black Heart’s website in December of 2007. We thought it was worth it to re-run this naughty little item for Christmas Eve 2008, to get you in the spirit of XXXmas. Enjoy!
Everybody was saying it’d be a white Christmas, except for the meteorologist, who pointed out that lately they’d been been setting record highs for December. The air barely carried a hint of the crisp chill necessary for a good old-fashioned snowstorm, according to Stan Weatherman, but Casey persisted in her fantasies of falling snow, a roaring fire, cookies and hot chocolate… and catching Santa as he climbed down her chimney.
A fellow Santa-lover, at New York SantaCon 2008 (photo by Flickr member istolethetv)
Sure, Casey was a bit old to still believe in Santa Claus, 18-year-olds being so hip and jaded these days, but she was a romantic at heart and a pervert at bottom. The thought of some jolly fat man in a red plush suit shimmying down a sooty pipe to bring her whatever her coal black heart desired made her lady bits get all wet and tingly, and she spent most of her 12 days of Christmas break masturbating to the tune of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” Sick, really, but it happened to be the closest anybody ever got to writing a song whose lyrics flat-out screamed “I want Santa to screw my brains out under the old Tannenbaum!”
The poor girl was so smitten with the fat pseudo-saint that she’d wait in hour-long line-ups at her local mall just to sit on an elderly man’s knee, kiss him on the cheek and—when asked what she wanted for Christmas this year—whisper that she wanted to be fucked reindeer-style while Santa’s elves watched… and could she get a picture of that? A few of the Santas called security and had the poor stray lamb banned from Santa Land. Some of them kindly suggested she get a boyfriend her own age. One horny Santa took her number and told her he’d call once the stores had closed for the evening.
It was December 24. Casey knew she had it in the bag. Who could resist her prurient smile, her lithe body, her hint of innocence mixed with a need for total degradation at the hands of a man who played with little people all day long?
Around midnight, Casey’s cell phone started to jiggle like a bowlful of jelly, playing a muffled version of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” from the confines of her jeans pocket. She knew it was him.
“Hey, Santa baby,” she cooed. “Hurry down my chimney.”
“I’ll be there in a flash,” he replied.
Luckily for St. Nick, not a creature was stirring in Casey’s parents’ house—unless you counted the dirty mouse herself. She crept downstairs to the living room where the stockings were hung and the tree silently flashed its coloured lights to the tune of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Casey wondered if it was true that Santa was married to that bitch, Mary Christmas. But it was a fleeting thought, briefly chased off with, “I bet she can’t make his yule log burn like *I* can.”
With a pop and a whoosh of chilly Christmas air, a man leapt out of the fireplace. He was wearing the red plush suit, shiny black boots, a giant belt with a golden buckle and carried a sack fat with presents. His white beard was enormous. His eyes sparkled behind gold wire spectacles. He removed his red stocking cap and took a little bow.
“Good evening, my dear,” Santa said, taking Casey’s hand and planting a kiss upon her delicate knuckles.
Casey blushed. She couldn’t believe her XXXmas fantasy was about to come true, and for all her filthy bluster, she was just a nice, Midwestern 18-year-old girl meeting her idol in person for the first time. She couldn’t speak.
“Now, I’ve checked my list twice, and it seems you’re on the Naughty side,” Santa continued, pulling a paddle from his bag of tricks. “Come over here and let me teach you about the true spirit of Christmas, young lady.”
Santa seated himself in the family’s Lay-Z-Boy, and Casey bent over his knees. He pushed her nightie up over her firm, round backside and spanked her three times. She could feel her nipples hardening and her cunt getting moist. Santa paused in his paddling to remove her nightgown entirely and fondle her breasts. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.
“I can’t stay long, dear, because the other children will be waiting for their presents,” Santa whispered hoarsely, “but you’ve been waiting all year for a few licks from my candy cane, so let’s get it on.”
He unbuckled his belt and let his red pants slide down his legs. Casey climbed into Santa’s lap and took a sleigh ride to the place where passion knows no bounds, all the time observed by eight tiny reindeer. As she came all over Santa’s little helper, he placed his finger alongside his nose and, quick as a wink, disappeared from sight. Casey was left alone in the living room with Santa’s hearty “ho ho ho!” echoing in her ears. The silent night went on as she collapsed into a feverish slumber, still feeling Santa’s phantom hands caressing her body until morning.
