Dear Santa

by Tarabeth


Every year since Dominic was born, Chris has dressed up as Santa and made a trip to Claire and Mitch's loft to drop off the kids' presents and fill their stockings. It is a wonderful tradition, and I am so thankful that Claire hides the camcorder and records the visit so that I get the opportunity to see my husband at work.

Thankfully, because the Attwood's live in a big city and the loft is just one of three in their building, and they don't have a fireplace, the kids have never had a problem with watching Santa come in and out the front door.

Claire and Chris always disappear for a few minutes during the families Christmas Eve dinner, so that Claire can give Chris a bag of toys and all of the kids stocking stuffers.

Chris keeps the Santa Suit in a footlocker in the attic. He leaves our house at about ten, fully dressed in the beautiful red velvet suit. I give Santa a big kiss before he goes and ask him to drive carefully.

Chris arrives at the loft, unlocks the door, and pronounces his entrance with a cheerful, "Ho, Ho, Ho." He makes sure to go about his task of depositing the gifts "oblivious" to Mitch, Claire, Dominic, Jonah, and Lilah peeking at him from the hallway. He meticulously unpacks his satchel adding the children's gifts to the other presents under the tree. He fills each family members stocking with candy, silver dollars and fifty-cent pieces, a special ornament, and other fun trinkets. He then moves to the dining room and eats the small plate of cookies and drinks the milk. As he leaves, he lays his finger beside his nose and declares, "A Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night." He locks the door behind himself and then makes his way home to me.

By the time Chris gets home he has usually shed part of his costume, arriving at our home without his white beard and hair, his cap, and coat. I usually find my husband in Santa pants held in place with a pair of red suspenders, a white t-shirt, and his black leather boots.

I usually wait up for him in the living room, and we welcome in Christmas day in front of our well lit and decorated tree. But this year I decided to do something a different and to leave Santa a little note and treat of my own.

I heard Chris come through front door. I had left the tree lit and a dim light on the console table that supplied just enough light for Chris to see the note I had left for Santa.

Dear Santa,

I have been very good this year - well okay I'll admit to an occasional pout, and a bit of mischief that left me teary and with a sore bottom - but I also did my best to be kind, help and respect others, spend quality time with my friends and loved ones, mind my manners, and happily submit to my husbandly duties.

I have left you a warm snifter of brandy. Please bring your brandy into the bedroom and join me for a bit of Christmas Merry and Naughtiness.

XOXOXO

Your Loving Brat

Chris walked into the bedroom carrying his brandy. He was pleased to find me sitting on our bed, naked and holding a sprig of mistletoe over my nether region. "Hi Santa. Can you guess what I want for Christmas?"

Chris growled. He set his brandy snifter on the dresser and slipped the red suspenders off his shoulders. "Santa doesn't bring naughty boys presents," he teased. He pulled his shirt off over his head.

I decided to play along and gave a pout.

"Oh, you better not pout," he said slipping out of his pants and boxers. He sat down on the bed and pulled be across his bared lap. He landed a playful swat on my butt. "Is this what you wanted?" Chris asked. He landed several more swats. At each swat I gave a little thrust into his lap, causing our growing erections to meet.

"Well, Santa, I have been a very naughty boy," I told him.

Chris softly ran his fingers in zig zags up my thighs and over my cheeks.

I spread my legs a bit.

He ran his finger down my crack and a lone fingernail tickled my testicles.

I arched my back.

He landed another swat; this one much harder. I was sure it had left an imprint of his hand.

I yelped.

"You better not cry," he playfully warned as he began to warm up my ass with more swats. They were quick and stingy, but all I cared about was that each one caused my cock to rub against his. He finally stopped when my butt was giving off a warm glow. He leaned over to the bed side table and grabbed the lube. "Well now that I have punished you for being naughty, I think it is time to reward you for all the nice things you did this year.

"Yes please," I said as I felt his finger swirling around my anus. I moaned as it pressed forward. He stretched and teased me until he felt I was ready to take his cock.

Chris applied another swat. "On your hands and knees Brat," he ordered.

I slid off his lap and assumed the instructed position. I could feel Chris kneeling behind me, and I wiggled my ass at him.

Chris began spank my sit spots. I turned my head and gave him a bit of glare, indicating that I was ready to be fucked.

He let out a jolly laugh and continued to spank. "I want that ass to be nice and rosy."

The heat continued to grow, when he was finished, Chris grabbed hold of me cheeks with both hangs and began to squeezed and deeply massage them. As the massage continued, his thumbs spread me wide. I could feel him move closer behind me. He was positioning himself for the fuck. His cock pressed against me, and I leaned back into him. I wanted him inside of me. He set a quick and rough pace, banging his balls against my ass which each thrust. I rubbed my cock, using my precum to lubricate myself. We both came quickly, and Chris collapsed on top of me. I could feel his heavy breathing on my neck. He whispered softly into my ear, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight."


~ Tarabeth

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