’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, except one naughty mouse, The mistletoe was hung in the bedroom with care, And underneath there she lay, with lowered underwear.
Slumped over pillows, amorously on the bed, Envisioning mistletoe kisses and giving her boyfriend head, But this year he was working, far interstate, Her mistletoe kisses would have to wait. When from downstairs there arose such a clatter, She sprung from the bed to see what was the matter, Naked and sweaty to the front door she dashed, It looked as if some sort of sleigh had crashed.
To her wondering eyes what had appeared, A man in a red suit with an extraordinary beard.
Not your classic hunk, but he did look slick, And suddenly she realized it was her boyfriend Nic!
Up to the bedroom, she desired his cock, On the bed naked except her fishnet knee-high socks,
The fireplace lit the room with passion and love, As the stockings dangled from the mantlepiece above. Then, in a twinkling, he whispered in her ear, ‘Have you been naughty or nice this year?”
She flipped herself over, onto her back,
“Oh St. Nic, you know the answer to that”.
Off came his fur, from his head to his foot,
His clothes dispersed on the ground, covered in soot,
Sliding his way down, his tongue trailing her thighs,
His snowy white beard tickled, she let out a cry,
His eyes – how they twinkled as he went down, her legs spread,
His rosy red cheeks glowed as he watched her enjoy head.
Then he grabbed both her legs, pushed them up high,
Whilst entering his throbbing penis, she released a sigh.
Taking off both his gloves, rubbing her wet clit,
He kept poking her fire until it was lit,
He had a broad happy face listening to her moan,
Pounding against her thighs, they loved to the bone.
With her lustrous moans, her legs began to quiver,
She was ready to come, he could tell from her shiver,
Increasing his pace, her pussy was tight,
As she came she yelled “What a Christmas Eve night!”
But that wasn’t the end, she was ready for more,
Flipping him over onto the floor,
Her trembling fingers were rubbing his dick,
Her mouth near it, teasingly giving it a lick.
He shouted, as his large baubles she began to suck –
“Looks like this Christmas you’re in good luck!”
Shaking his belly, he was about to blow,
Covering her body like a blizzard of snow.
Her body covered wet, what wasn’t hers, was his,
She was saturated in good old St Nic’s’ jizz;
And his face lit up like a star on a tree,
He’d never been so satisfied, much to her glee.
Off to his sleigh, he’d delivered his present,
But he had one more gift before he went absent,
She heard him exclaim as he reached in his sack:
‘Use this LELO vibrator until I come back!’