I saw this and had to share...... "My, Santa...what big...gifts you have."
I almost hit my Santa hat on a tree bough, startled by the interruption from behind me as I stashed presents under the tree at about 3 a.m. Christmas morning, long after my well fucked wife was sl**ping soundly, the combination of Christmas Eve dinner, midnight mass, and vigorous sex having done her in.
The teasing tone sounded almost but not quite like my new wife, right down to the pregnant pauses, which emphasized the fact that my bride loved me not just for my wit and wisdom, but also because even in my fifties, my physical endowment truly was a gift, one she liked to unwrap frequently. Just those words spoken that way were enough to cause my body to react automatically, bl**d flowing to my groin, engorging my organ, my balls roiling in their sac, ready for action.
Then I realized that I was about to meet my new eighteen year old stepdaughter, Emma. She had been studying abroad in Australia, on a full year scholarship. Money was tight, and she would not have been able to fly back for the wedding even if there had been time and warning. Since her mother and I had actually gotten hitched on a whim during a convention in Vegas just three months earlier, she had all the more reason not to have attended.
We had spoken on the phone, and even Skyped a bit, but her focus of course was on her mother, and there was a bit of natural reticence about this new old guy who had blown into her mother's life like a hurricane. Potential hostility was avoided by the fact that I had not broken a home - Emma's Dad had run off with his secretary about a decade ago, moving across the continent, keeping in touch mostly via support checks - and by Emma knowing that at least her Mom had known me for years, even if Emma had never met me. The Vegas wedding might have been sudden, but my bride and I had been friends with benefits for most of the five years that I had been regional sales manager of the company her Dad- Emma's Grandpa- owned. Until the wedding I had been based in a nearby city with a better air hub to visit the branch offices. The boss' wedding gift to me had been a promotion and relocation to head office. As Vice President Sales I worked closely with my wife, the Executive Vice President for Marketing, and my immediate boss.
Maybe that's why I was going even further out of my way this first Christmas together to impress my wife, who was also my boss. Although we had discussed buying a new home that was truly ours, at this stage we were still in the house Emma had grown up in - they hadn't moved after her dad left, hoping to comfort the youngster with familiar surroundings. Continuing that theme, Grandpa had flown Emma half way around the world for one last holiday season in her c***dhood home.
"When did you get home? I thought you were landing at dawn." I asked as I turned half way around, cautiously, knowing that Emma was not used to men in her home, and might have been headed to the kitchen without being properly clothed. I also noted that realizing it was Emma not her mother referring to my gifts had done nothing to reduce my arousal. My cock was about half erect, more than enough to bob up against the fabric of my pajamas.
"I got an earlier connection from the coast. You and Mom must have been at church when I landed, so I got a ride with the neighbours - their son was waiting for luggage at the same carousel."
I immediately knew she was referring to Morris Albertson, whose father Moses was a nerdy accountant in Grandpa's factory. Morris was off at Harvard, headed toward business school. The apple had not fallen far from the tree. But for some reason I was wondering whether Morris had ever tried to get into Emma's pants, and, even more, if he might have succeeded. An image of Emma crowded, an extra in Albertson's Honda Civic, perched on the young man's lap, his pimply face brushed by her hair, his clammy palms accidentally on purpose bumping her breasts, flickered in my brain, overheated under the Santa cap. My cock appreciated the thought, twitching toward fullness.
My head had turned far enough to get my first live glimpse of my stepdaughter. All the pictures were two or three years old, and had shown a nervous, scrawny bespectacled gal with braces and pigtails. On Skype, I had learnt that time had made Emma more mature, more confident, with a trendy haircut. I was not prepared, though, for how much her body had bloomed. What had been a boyish figure now had rounded nicely into curves, hips and breasts even better proportioned than in that brief fantasy image of her being pawed by the neighbour boy.
Once again my little head proved that it was faster than my big head. My fully erect cock was tenting my flannel. It took all my willpower not to look down at it. That meant though that I was looking right at Emma, and saw that her eyes were wide, and not meeting mine. Her jaw dropped in shock. I could not help but notice though that her nipples puffed out, pressing themselves against a sl**p T emblazoned "Aussies do it better". The double entendre was undermined by the iron-on surfing cartoon underneath.
"Sorry to startle you," she muttered after a moment that seemed like forever. "but when I was a little girl, I used to try to sneak down and catch my Dad playing Santa."
I saw a tear form in the corner of her eye.
"Did you ever succeed?" I asked, hoping that chatter would distract her from the sadness that still lingered all these years after her Dad had abandoned her. Also that my cock might shrink while she was busy answering.
"No," she chuckled, "I always ended up just drinking the milk and eating the carrot that my Mom left out for the reindeer. The closest I came was when I was really little - about four I think. I got to the turn in the stairs and heard voices. When I peaked around the corner I saw Mommy and Daddy on the couch, their clothes all mussed. I ran back to my room. Now that I'm older I realize that I almost interrupted them making love."
'Yes,' I thought, 'her Mom does love sex all over the house.'
Picturing my wife, fifteen years younger and riper, fucking on the couch, did nothing to reduce my tumescence. I briefly considered snatching the Santa hat off my head to cover my excitement, but instantly realized that would only be more embarrassing for both of us.
Emma spoke again, after a throaty sexy chuckle which reminded me again of my wife's sensuality.
"Somehow though, I doubt that my Dad ever delivered for my Mom like her new Santa."
"What?" I blurted in shocked response.
"After they split up, Mom used to refer to Dad as 'Mr. Little Dick' , though she did concede once late at night after drinking that his new girlfriend probably was happy with his magic tongue. I was still too young to really understand."
"But now you know."
I heard me say the words, but was shocked that I was having this intimate conversation with the stepdaughter I barely knew. Emma's blush confirmed the inappropriateness of my response. Saying she started it would be a feeble excuse -- I was the adult, not quite her parent, but even worse, married to her mother.
"Well, sort of," she stammered. "that is I know in theory what she meant, but..."
The silence hung between us, both of us able to complete her thought. My nubile stepdaughter had just told me, a virtual stranger, that no man or boy had even eaten her pussy. Instantly. I wondered if it was possible, in this day and age, that such a hot young woman might actually still be a virgin. I knew her mother was a lusty sex goddess, but I also knew that my wife had spent much of Emma's adolescence too busy raising a daughter to date.
As if reading my mind, Emma explained.
"When I was younger it was sports, or science club. Now I'm all about good grades. Grandpa has spent a lot of money sending me to school and I don't want to disappoint him."
Suddenly, my brain took another left turn, imagining that my boss, still virile in his seventies, dating increasingly younger secretaries ever since becoming a widower two years ago, would happily spend more of his fortune educating this angel if she just rewarded him with a few hugs, pressing that body against him, or, even better, wriggling in his lap as a thank you. I knew for a fact that whenever my wife wanted something special, she just rubbed up against her daddy, or bent low over his desk. She often came home and joked about it. In fact, she had recently suggested that we could probably get a really big house if she actually just went ahead and seduced him. I could tell from the glint in her eye that she was at least half serious, since she was ultra competitive, and would love to show that she was a superior lover over the young bimbos.
"I've never even seen an erect cock." Emma interrupted my thoughts.
"At least not until now," she giggled, lifting her hand girlishly up to cover her mouth. The motion made her firm young tits shift under her shirt, erect nipples dancing teasingly. My cock nodded in appreciation.
"You still haven't," I replied, surprising myself with how stern and parental my voice sounded. Though I had a brief starter marriage years ago, I had never had c***dren, had been content to rely on casual sex to warm my nights during my years as a travelling salesman.
"But, Santa, that's all I want for Christmas," she whined playfully in a little girl voice. As she spoke, Emma took two steps closer to the tree, getting quite near to me.
I stepped aside, not wanting to be trapped between my stepdaughter and the tree. She glided along after me, and I backed toward the breakfast counter that separated the kitchen from the great room.
"I've got you now," she chuckled.
"What?" My knees were bumping the stool behind me but I knew I could sidestep into the passageway easily.
Emma responded by lifting her head dramatically, making my eyes follow hers upward. Then I realized that I was standing beneath the mistletoe my wife had playfully hung for her staff party the week before. I had forgotten all about it.
I relaxed, playing along with what I assumed would be the standard social peck on the lips.
She closed the gap until her body heat mingled with mine. I sensed her naked knee slide into the gap between my flannel clad legs. Her fingers curled into my dense mat of curly grey hair, tilting the Santa cap down over my eyes. I felt her breath, fresh and minty, warming my face. My lips lowered until they met hers.
It was all I could do to exercise some restraint as Emma caressed the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, which made my cock twitch in response. Finally, I pulled back. She said, "That was nice, but not the gift I wanted."
Her free hand skimmed down my chest, barely touching my saggy belly before lightly brushing my weighty cock, still ensconced in its flannel.
I leaned in to kiss her again, hoping to distract her, taking that hand gently yet firmly in mine, and moving it to my hip. That proved to be another miscalculation, as my stepdaughter seized the opportunity to first caress the curve of my ass and then squeeze it, draw my stiffness tight against her lithe body. Our lips at least remained closed as this kiss lingered longer than the first one.
"Oh my gosh, this is my stepdaughter." I said silently deep in my skull. The words echoed, each time seeming further away and less relevant.
At some stage, my hand went to her shoulder, without thinking. I suppose that I could have rationalized it as holding her back, but really, I was holding her steady against me, two thin layers of cloth the only things separating the engorged tip of my manhood from the tender flesh above her ... cunt. I know that was the first instance that I though of my stepdaughter's prize as a cunt, a womanly womb built for fucking, begging for fulfillment, desperate to be filled with a throbbing cock. I knew very well that once women got to that stage, they did not really care, any cock would do. I also knew that I had a cock which had pleased more than a few.
Emma broke free first, gasping for air.
"Relax ," she breathed, leaning even closer, her hard nipples tapping against the old-fashioned flannel pajama top I still wore. She rose up on her toes, kissing me harder. This time, her lips parted, my teeth opened in response, and I allowed just the tip of her tongue to touch mine. I could feel a n even stronger shiver run down my body. By the time it reached where her hand was caressing my ass I knew that she was quivering just as much. Our tongues twisted playfully together, intertwined.
"I still want to see more," she reminded me when next we came up for breath.
For the first time, I noticed her eyes were not the washed out sea blue of the photographs, but had a beautiful deep violet hue. They glowed with excitement as I took the lead for the first time, catching her pendulous lower lip between my teeth and nibbling gently. She sighed and pressed tighter against me, distracted from my ass and my cock, her arms rising and her wrists linking behind my head, holding me so close that I felt the weight of her tits shifting against me with each movement of her ribs. My cock was a steel rod.
"Touch my tits while I touch your cock," Emma said, unless I imagined the request.
In either case, she broke loose from the embrace and swiftly scooted the sl**p shirt up and over head, presenting her naked body to me for the first time. The recessed lighting from the next room, and the colourful glow of the Christmas tree, framed her magnificent nakedness.
"I don't think we should do that," I stammered out, though my eyes and my hardness told of a different desire.
"Why not? I might not be very experienced, but even I know how much guys like to touch them, and you're a guy, so I figure that you must want to touch them too."
"But, I'm married to your mother," I reminded her. "It wouldn't be right."
Emma's deep throaty chuckle was identical with my wife's. In hindsight, I must have known right then I was doomed to do whatever this vixen desired, she took after her mother so.
"I don't care. I've always dreamt of this ever since I saw Mommy doing more than just kissing Santa."
Her nipples were long, stiff thumbs sticking straight out of half g****fruit mounds. At least in the limited light, I discerned no tan lines. After just drinking in her beauty for a long moment, my hand moved up to caress her left breast. When my fingertips passed over her erect nipple, Emma moaned and leaned forward, her lips pressing hard against mine, her hand again caught between our bodies. This time, her fingers fumbled only slightly as they fluttered down inside the elastic waistband of my pants, which no doubt was welcomingly stretched open by my stiffness.
I was no pimply faced school boy, far from it, and I had a fulfilling sex life with her mother that kept my reservoir regularly drained, yet it was all I could do not to spew great gobs of goo all over Emma's dainty fingers the first instance that they brushed her skin against the bare flesh of my cock.
"I'm so wet," Emma groaned, her free hand guiding mine along the curve of her thigh, until my fingers brushed against her baby fine curls of pubic hair, while my other hand continued to knead her breast. Her inner thighs were soaked, and the smell of her arousal filled the room. Stepdaughter or not, at that moment all I wanted to do was plunge something inside of her wetness, not caring what - my fingers, my tongue, or my throbbing cock. Although Emma remained in control, I was no longer unwilling.
She still had her hand around mine, guided my fingers along her slit until I brushed against the rubbery hardness of her clit.
"Oh, Santa's not the only one with a stiffie," she giggled."It feels so much better than when I just touch myself. Like the pressure is building up to the biggest rush ever. Help me Santa, do to me what you do to Mommy to help her come. Yeah - I know my Mom loves sex, I used to hear her with her boyfriends."
My fingers no longer needed urging, a couple of them piercing her swollen lips to thrust inside while my thumb thrummed against her clit.
"Oh fuck! Oh Santa! This is like the greatest Christmas gift ever." she screamed so loudly that I feared she might awaken my wife. I pressed my lips hard against her mouth to silence her. Her tight young cunt began spasming around my fingers as the waves of climax shook her body, which was still pressed tightly to mine.
As her breathing slowed, Emma broke lose from my kiss, her brilliant eyes shining up at mine. "That was great, but it isn't really the gift I wanted."
Somehow we had almost forgotten that her slender young fingers were wrapped around my massive member. She had been so focused on her desires that her hand simply had cupped my cock. Without more stimulation, I had remained stiff but had not exploded.
"I still want to see a hard cock," Emma said in a little baby girl sort of voice.
"But it shouldn't be mine," I protested feebly. Inside my brain a little voice said 'Better mine than some young punk like the Albertson k**.'
"Please Santa," she purred, her lips again pressing against mine.
"This isn't covered my the mistletoe tradition," I pointed out, pulling back. I felt the edge of the granite counter-top bump against my back.
"I've got an idea," Emma ignored my protests. "Hop up on the counter and lay back, that way your cock should stand straight up and I will see it easily - if you sit on the stool, I might block the light when I kneel down for a close up look."
"I suppose you won't go back to bed and let Santa finish delivering presents until you get your way," I sighed.
"I do sort of take after my mother," Emma copied what I was thinking.
She certainly came a lot like her, I realized, and had the same over-sized clit. While my brain was thinking about such things, my body was quietly obeying Emma's instructions. Once my ass slid along the surface, she kissed me again, the weight of her body against mine pushing me back until I lay supine. I could feel two hearts beating excitedly as Emma lay there for just a moment, hopefully enjoying the feeling of my fat manhood pulsating against her body, the flannel covered tip tucked right at the bottom of her magnificent cleavage. My question was answered by her actions, sliding along my trapped flesh, moaning appreciation.
"If you're not careful, I'm going to cum in my pants, and you won't get to see it fully erect, you'll just see a mess," I warned.
"Can't have that happen," Emma giggled, kissing each of my cheeks before stepping back and standing upright.
My cock was also upright, poking up proudly from the fly of the old style jammies, fully erect and throbbing in anticipation. She had taken her hand away while pushing against me, and now just stood between my legs where they dangled off the counter, her eyes fixed on the gift she had sought.
"Okay, you've seen a hard cock, now go to bed young lady, Santa still has work to do."
Emma did not obey. Instead, she stepped closer, her flesh hot against my knees.
"But, Santa the gift isn't complete until I get a really good look. This is my first time seeing a real hard cock, and I want to be able to remember it well."
Without even asking permission, her fingers found their way back to my manhood, giving the shaft a single delicate stroke from root to the ridge underneath the helmet. She pumped me harder then, making the slit gape open and a drop of precum bubble up. For a second I was afraid she was about to bend over and lick it off, but once she did not, I realized that I was sad that she had not.
Emma toyed with her gift for a moment, shifting it one way and then the other. Her tongue was flashing out first one corner of her mouth, and then the other, and finally, her lower lip softened and she licked along that flesh. Her eyes never left my erection."I remember from sex ed that this is the shaft," she squeezed to illustrate, "and I think this is called the head". Her thumb flicked my spongy purple knob to indicate, "and these must be your balls in here" She used her free hand to squeeze my sac a bit too harder, but only for a second, "but no one ever mentioned this tab of flesh right here" a fingernail sc****d the flab running under the glans tying it to the shaft, "what's that called?"
"The frenulum" I squeaked, my voice having vanished.
Emma giggled. "That's a funny word, no wonder no one uses it."
She gave the frenulum one more caress for good luck, and then pumped my shaft again.
"You're leaking." More giggles. Good thing my wife was soundly asl**p.
With one delicate hand Emma fondled just the head of my aching cock. With her other hand, she began stroking up and down my shaft gently, with great care and concentration, that tiny tip of her tongue teasingly poking out of each corner of her mouth in turn. My eyes though kept staring at the way her her firm young tits swayed. The slow rhythm might have lulled me to sl**p, except for the way my balls were screaming for release.
"Emma, if you keep that up, I'm going to explode. My sperm that is. I'll have an orgasm and my seed will spurt out."
"Oh, goodie" She was bouncing up and down like a little girl. "I'd love to see that. But if you spurt, will you still be hard enough to fuck me?"
"What? Hold on there girl, you never said anything about fucking. You wanted to see Santa's cock as your Christmas gift. Now you've had a good look, I think it's time for all good little girls to go back to bed so Santa can finish..."
I stopped as that word hung in the air, realizing what I had just said.
Emma chuckled her knowing growl, the one that sounded just like her mother, my wife.
"I think Santa is about ready to finish but that he wants me to help him polish his pole," she said out loud what we both knew she had to say. She gave my still rigid cock a firm pump in emphasis. A bubble of fluid gurgled out the tip. "You don't really want me to stop now."
Without waiting for my reply, she lowered her body from the waist. Her mouth descended smoothly over my erect cock, her jaw slack so that she took all of me in without effort, her hand withdrawing from the shaft to the root, to my balls. I was shocked into silence by her eagerness - no tentative licking around the slit for this girl - who I realized I had just thought of as 'my girl'.
"You didn't learn that in sex ed," I blurted out, my fingers instinctively grasping handfuls of her hair. By that time, she had closed her lips tightly around the very base of my shaft, and proceeded to circle around my diameter with the tip of her tongue. She proceeded to slowly raise her head, swirling her tongue around my flesh as she rose.
Her face wore a dreamy expression. "I figured that Santa might like it if I licked him like a candy cane."
Emma followed this with another girly giggle. Her fingers continued to massage my scrotum.
"What else might Santa like? I've never done this before, I could use some advice."
"Lick the whole thing some more. Make it dripping wet with your saliva before you put it back in your mouth."
Emma ran her tongue all around my cock, kissing the tip, and then the root, and then all over the shaft, rubbing her lips on my flesh.
"I like how it has that silky outer layer over the hard candy inside, Santa" Emma announced. "Am I doing good?"
"Yes," I whispered, once again praying that her mother would not come down to investigate the noise, that if she heard anything she would assume I was just playing Santa.
"What should I do next" Emma asked, her beautiful grin shining across from just behind my erection.
"You already know- lick me like your candy cane."
Emma complied, lowering her mouth along my cock, first bathing the head while holding my shaft just enough to steady the part she was tonguing. She licked it more like an ice cream cone than a candy cane, but I was not about to complain. Emma moaned as her lips grazed the spongy tip of my helmet, tasting the precum.
"This tastes better than any candy cane," she said, gently splurging up my offering before licking all over the head, as if not wanting to miss a drop.
About the third time that she teased the frenulum with her teeth, she asked, "Will you cum a lot if I suck you now?"
All I could do was nod, but that was all the encouragement she needed. Taking about half my length into her mouth, Emma began bobbing up and down a few times, taking more with each motion, until she was closing her lips around the base. She started to suck hard, careful not to let her teeth bite down, but scr****g just enough to heighten the pleasure.
As much as I wanted to enjoy more of her naturally talented tongue, I was almost ready to explode. I would love to see if she liked the taste of my sperm, and whether she would swallow, but knew enough not to shock her, in case she really was as inexperienced as she claimed.
"Emma, darling, I'm getting close, if you want to see me spurt, you better watch, and don't take me back in your mouth right now." I warned her. "I think it might be a big blast."
"Oh, goodie, great gobs of goo," she giggled, her tony fist pumping me purposefully as her eyes focused on my slit. I was startled that somehow, she knew my favourite sexual expression. She had not heard it from me. Had she been talking about my sex life with her mother?
It was too late to worry about the morality or complications of the situation. Emma stroked the edge of my scrotum with a finger and I came. The first blast still startled her. She jumped back slightly as the strand shot up into the air, splattering her chin and spraying a fine mist over her chest. I watched enthralled as the moisture slid down that slope and dangled off her nipple. While I was distracted, Emma managed to close her tiny fist over the slit on top of my cock and captured the rest of my seed in her palm. She proceeded to lift her hand upward, staring at the sliming viscous sperm. To my utter amazement, she lifted it all the way to her mouth, where her tongue flopped out and slurped almost every drop from her hand. What she missed with that first massive effort she daintily licked from her flesh. I desperately wanted to push upright and lick her tits clean, but restrained myself.
"Yummy" Emma giggled. "My gift from Santa sure was tasty."
I pushed myself up onto an elbow and did my best to look as serious as I could with a Santa hat titled over one eye and my hard cock flopping against my thigh.
"And now it's time for all good little girls to go to bed."
"But I'm not so good, and I'm not so little." Emma emphasized her point by starting to stroke my weapon back to fullness.
Emma planted a long but gentle kiss on my penis, licking all the remnants of my orgasm from the tip. This made my head spin, and I was in no condition to object as she reached over and took my hand in hers, guiding it to the cleft between her legs.
"See how wet I am, Santa? That's because I know that Santa brings very special gifts to naughty girls."
My fingers were trembling as they grazed the soft fullness of her swollen labia, and then up and down her slit before Emma finally thrust my fingertips into the puckered folds of her hungry cunt.
"Don't worry Santa, I still am a virgin, but I've had enough fingers and toys up there that I know you won't hurt me."
She paused, bending low to look at my cock from different angles, admiring its renewed girth.
"I think you'll grow back big enough that you'll still find me tight." Then another fit of giggles caused her pelvic muscles to twist around my fingers, drawing me almost wrist deep into her cunt. "Though the cucumber I tried last week might have been a bit fatter, it wasn't nearly as warm, and it didn't move very well."
Emma took a half step back, still holding and admiring my cock. I was almost fully hard again.
"But not here, I don't think - the counter is too high, and was okay as long as you were just laying on it, but I want a good fuck, which I think might involve moving around. Falling to the floor might hurt."
"We can't very well go to your room - your Mom is asl**p, but we don't dare risk her waking up and hearing us fucking across the hall."
Only after I said those words did I realize that I had again given up resisting and simply accepted the fact that I was going to fuck my stepdaughter. Apparently, Emma already knew that. She was looking around, trying to locate the perfect spot, all the while keeping her palm tight enough around my shaft that she could pump me slowly, building and maintaining my hardness. I felt my hips rising from the counter-top, fucking her fist.
"The couch?" I croaked.
"Hmmm.... it's a narrow ass piece of furniture, I never did like it." Emma replied. "I know, Santa - since you're giving me another gift, we should fuck on the rug in front of the tree - the one between it and that chimney you came down."
I did not get a chance to respond because Emma tightened her grip around my cock and used it as a handle to tug me forward, until my ass slid off the counter top. I landed neatly on the balls of my feet, stumbling only slightly as Emma led me back toward the tree, just as excited as a six year old on Christmas morning. Her young curvaceous ass bounced just about two feet ahead of me, a feast for mt eyes, and a treat guaranteed to keep my balls tight and my weapon hard. Each time I pulsed back to full fatness, Emma rewarded me with a squeeze of her palm.
Once we were in front of the tree, Emma dropped to her knees. She planted a slow luscious kiss on the end of my cock, lavishing the slit with the tip of her tongue, and followed up by raining a plenitude of gentle kisses along the shaft while her fingers remained curled around my girth.
"I think I like this gift, Santa, I may have to play with it a lot," Emma laughed, then teased my flesh with her teeth, nibbling first one side of my cock and then the other.
With her free hand, she dug my balls out from their nest behind the flannel of my jammies. She shocked me by opening her mouth wide and sucking on my balls, first one and then the other, and then somehow fitting both in her cheeks, as if she was about to swallow me. Electric shocks shot through my cock. No woman had ever worshiped me like this young virgin, not even her wanton mother, my wife.
I felt a big drop of precum surge up the shaft, no doubt dangling right before Emma's eyes. I felt her mouth relax into a smile as she spit out my scrotum and swiftly slurped up my seed.
Up to that moment point I had not had a chance to fully appreciate Emma's nude body, since she had been tight up against me when she had stripped. Her tits were like perfect teardrops growing out of her chest, topped by those tasty nipples I had already sampled. Her stomach was tanned, flat, muscled yet still feminine, fine fuzzy hairs glistening in the lights of the tree. Her waist was a delicate indentation, widening out into those unmistakably womanly hips, ample yet supple.
I realized that I was barely breathing. I knew that I had to fuck this angel, virgin though she was, stepdaughter or not. I had to bury my hardness deep within the cleft where her hips met.
A brief image of her on all fours, me fucking her doggy style flashed through my brain, but she had already laid back on the hearth rug, her legs spread, the fingers of one hand caressing herself from nipple to clit, while her other hand guided my cock forward toward her treasure.
"I want you to fuck me with this big cock, Santa," Emma moaned. "Please, please, put this big cock inside of me. I promise that if you do, I'll be a good little girl next year."
I had no real choice except to fall softly to my knees, my elbows instinctively cushioning my landing. I rubbed Emma's wet slit, watching her petals flower before finally slipping a finger inside, eliciting a deep moan from my stepdaughter. Her hips rose from the floor, responding to the pleasure created just by me fingering her.
"Santa, this is great, but I've been fingered before, I want your cock."
My hips thrust ineffectively forward, thrusting my cock in search of her honey pot as if I was an inexperienced teenager, not a middle aged man newly married to her mother.
"Let me," Emma giggled, like how many thousands of teenage girls had in how many thousand back seats. Suddenly, her first time felt so much like my first time.
Her hand lined the tip of my cock up with the wetness of her slit and she coached me, using one hand to guide my length along the slit so that my tip tweaked her clit, while her other hand grasped my ass, controlling my thrust. After two or three of these slides, she twitched her hips somehow, and about two inches of my cock slipped between her labia.
"Ohhhhh, Santa," she cooed, "that's sure no lump of coal."
The next thrust easily allowed my entire length to slide into her wet but tight cunt. I paused, marvelling at the sensation, unable to recall when I had last fucked a cunt which fit so much like a glove, her muscles already trying to milk me. I was glad that I had come once already, because I knew that for this deflowering to be as special as my stepdaughter deserved, I had to have enough endurance to keep fucking her until she climaxed.
"Oh, Santa, it feels so amazing, having the gift of your fat cock stretching my pussy."
The hand that had been guiding my ass now fluttered up my back, bouncing along the spiny ridges with just enough pressure to thrill, not tickle. With each beat, the current ran through to my cock, which pulsed in rhythm.
Emma curled her fingers in the thick hair on the back of my head and f***ed my face toward hers. Our lips meta; our mouths opened; our tongues twisted like two tango dancers. Her hips started to twist like her tongue, corkscrewing her cunt around my cock, pulling my meat even deeper into her tightness.
"Fuck me faster," Emma demanded, loudly enough to startle me. If she was too loud, she might wake up my wife.
"I need your hot white cream to fill up my virgin pussy," Emma exclaimed.
I slid my hand over to cup her left tit, clamping two fingers around her hard nipple, hoping that this might encourage her orgasm. As if reading my mind, Emma slipped a few fingers between our bodies and started to strum her clit as I continued thrusting into her, maintaining a steady pace, feeling her cunt stretching around my girth.
"Make me come. Santa, make me come for the first time with a cock inside of me. Be the first man to ever make me come."
Emma grabbed two handfuls of my ass, her fingernails biting into my flesh, pulling me even harder and deeper within her. I basically couldn't move, but the contractions of her pelvic muscles around my cock was motion enough. Soon her hips were adding to the effect, humping up off the rug and thumping back down.
"You have to come too Santa. Somehow it won't feel like I've really lost my virginity unless you pump your cream deep into my womb. Otherwise, it will be too much like when I play with my veggies," Emma still managed to joke even as she thrashed wildly about.
"Silly, Mom put me on the pill before I went overseas. But don't tell her I didn't get lucky over there, she'd be heartbroken. Sometimes I think her dream life is one big series of dirty romantic movies."
"And here I thought I was her dream lover."
"Shut up and fuck me," she laughed again.
I kneaded both of her breasts, trying to tip her over the top by twisting each nipple in a different direction. This made her bite her bottom lip. Remembering how she had earlier fingered herself as we fucked, I moved one hand down to her pearl. She liked how I teased that even better, groaning her appreciation.
A Christmas bauble jingled as my hip almost brushed against the tree. Suddenly I pictured Emma climaxing so f***efully that she might buck me right off of her, sending me flying right into the tree, causing it to come crashing down, waking her mother. Between the chatter about dream lovers, and that image, I decided that it was time to finish this interlude, no matter how demanding Emma chose to be. We were pushing our luck.
Emma moved a hand back up to draw me into an even more furiously energetic lip lock, and her left leg hooked around my right calf, forcing me to fuck in a fresh rhythm.
We wrestled each other, my cock slamming deep into her tight cunt, her leg and hand pulling on my ass and my leg to keep everything going like a carnival ride. Without warning, her tongue still twisting with mine, Emma came. Our teeth knocked together so hard that it was like I was swallowing her scream. Her climax made her muscles clench like a fist, and then release. This caused my balls to shoot yet another load, until I felt empty, my shrinking organ sunk deep in her cream depths, my cream oozing out onto the rug. Exhausted, I rolled off of her, laying between her and the tree.
"Oh, Santa, I hope every day is like Christmas from now on," Emma smirked, ruffling my hair.
"Merry Christmas, Emma," I moaned in response. As my breathing returned to normal, my thoughts turned to that juicy cum filled cunt. My tongue wet my lips in hopes of being given the opportunity to sample Emma's cream pie.
Before that thought had even fully formed, Emma bounced upright with coltish energy, scooping up her T shirt and dropping it over her well fucked body, and then bounded up the stairs, leaving me struggling to not doze off under the tree.
Santa still had more gifts to unpack, but he had just received his best Christmas gift ever.