Naughty and Nice: An XXXmas Story in Three Parts

Read Part One of this story here.

Read Part Two of this story here.

Somewhere, just beyond my peripheral vision, Leila “ probably “ is watching me ride Santa’s cock, my mouth open and gasping.  The knowledge that she’s watching me, watching me while playing the role of Holly the Christmas Nymph, only makes me hotter.

Fuck me, Santa, I think.  Show her how much of a slut I can be.

Santa, for her part, pumps her cock in and out of me, making me moan with every thrust.

“I have a question for you, Princess, She pants, her hips working tirelessly.

Straddling Santa’s lap, her thick cock filling me, her fingers teasing my clit, I groan.  Questions?  I can barely think!

“You want to be a good girl and answer my question, don’t you, Princess?  Yvonne’s avuncular voice takes on a warning tone and she punctuates her words with harsh strokes of her cock.

I whimper, my pussy aching with the growing need to come, my mind focused almost entirely on holding off the inevitable orgasm.

“Yes. Santa, I manage between gasps, as her cock pounds into me.  “Any. Thing. San. Ta.

“Do you like candy canes, Princess? she asks, her fingers thrumming against my clit.

“Er¦ Santa? I answer, aware of Leila’s presence, and suddenly worried that I’m going to have something brittle and full of peppermint oil slid up my ass.

“I think, purrs Holly the Christmas Nymph, standing where I can’t quite see her, “that I might have a candy cane for the little girl.

Be ready to use that mouth on something other than my tits.

“I love candy canes, Santa! I exclaim, with renewed vigor, staring straight ahead.  “I love them so much!  I could eat candy canes all day long, I rock myself on Yvonne’s cock, punctuating my words.  “They.  Taste.  So.  Good!

“Would you like a candy cane right now, Princess?

“Yes, Santa! I declare, panting, guessing where this is going, and hoping I’m right.  “I want a candy cane very, very badly!

“Close your eyes, Princess, Santa instructs.  She strokes my swollen clit with nimble fingers, making my stomach clench.  “Close your eyes like a good girl.

I do as I’m told, trying to keep rocking against Yvonne’s cock as I do so.

“If you can open your mouth very wide, Santa tells me, “I think Holly the Christmas Nymph might have just the thing for you.

I lick my lips.  Even with my eyes closed, I know Leila’s in front of me; I can smell the peppermint lube.

Please, Holly, I want to beg.  Let me eat your candy cane.

Instead, I open my mouth, straining forward even as Yvonne holds me in place, the head of her cock grinding into my g-spot.

Leila pushes her clit into my mouth, and I groan, the peppermint sweetness of the condom mingling with the heady scent of her flesh.  I stroke her clit with my tongue, my cunt clenching around Santa’s cock when I’m rewarded with Leila’s soft “Oh¦

I work my tongue over and around Leila’s clit, sucking on it the way I’d slurped and sucked on her tits in the cloak room not that long ago.  She moans, cupping the back of my head with her hand.  I feel the open edges of her negligee brushing my face as her hips pick up the rhythm of Yvonne’s thrusting.  I can feel the pressure building inside, where Yvonne’s cock is grinding against my g-spot, and I groan, half in pleasure, half in horror.  I know how Yvonne works.  If I want to come, I have to ask for it.  I have to beg for it.  And my mouth is full.

“She has to come before you can, Santa tells me, as if reading my mind, “It wouldn’t be very nice of you not to finish your candy cane.

Between my clenching thighs, Yvonne begins to circle my clit at exactly the speed she knows will push me over the edge.

I whimper, suddenly frantic, wondering if Leila’s one of those girls who can fuck for hours before she finally pops, or if I have any chance of getting out of Santa’s lap without being in a lot of trouble.  I redouble my efforts, stroking and sucking Holly’s “candy cane, as she laces her fingers in my hair.

I flutter my tongue against the tip of her clit, and am rewarded with a breathless gasp.

“Oh fu\’f\’falalalala! Holly exclaims.  “Holy f\’Night!

My muffled giggle is choked off, abruptly, when she plunges the length of her clit all the way into my mouth.  I gag, choking on her clit, working my tongue against the length of it and trying to breathe as she grinds into me.  Between my legs, Yvonne’s fingers circle my throbbing clit, giving me no quarter, threatening to push me over the edge.

I whimper, pressed to Leila’s mons, the scent of her thick around me, her clit sliding over my tongue as she tangles her hands in my hair to hold my head firmly in place.

“Oh god, she moans, “Ohgodohgodohgod.

The drool runs down my chin as she grinds against my mouth, my own cunt clenching tight around Yvonne’s tirelessly pounding cock.  I’m not even trying to ride Santa’s reindeer anymore, or suck on Holly’s candy cane, just trying desperately to hold on against the orgasm that’s threatening to overwhelm me.

Please, I pray silently.  Please let her come before I can’t stop myself anymore.

Finally, her clit twitching and flexing in my mouth, Leila comes, letting out a long moan, her hands loosening in my hair at last.

“Oh, god, Y\’Santa, Holly the Christmas Nymph gasps, pulling away from me just far enough to let me breathe.  “Let her have it.  She’s definitely on the Nice List as far as I’m concerned.

I work my jaw, panting, getting my breath back.  But Santa grinds her cock into my sopping, aching pussy, making me groan in spite of my breathlessness.

“Has she really done enough, do you think? Santa muses, her fingers flicking my clit absently, making me whimper.

The pressure in my cunt is unbearable.

“Oh, please, Santa, I beg.  “Please say I’ve been a good girl, please say I can be on the nice list, please, please, please

Santa chuckles, her fingers thrumming mercilessly against my clit.

“You really want it, don’t you, Princess?

“Uh-huh! I gasp. “Please, can I?  Please?

Holly leans forward, giving me an unparalleled view of her breasts.  I feel her slide one hand under me, stroking my tits through my sweat-soaked blouse.  She pinches one of my nipples, and I moan, half in pleasure, half in torment.  I can feel the wave of my climax reaching its crest, and I’ll be over the edge soon, no matter how hard I try and stop it.

“Oh, god, Santa, I plead, “I can’t help it!  Please, please, I have to!

“Okay, Princess, Santa says, pumping her cock into me as her fingers torture my clit.  “Be a good girl for Santa.  Show me what you’ve got.


At her word, I let myself go.  Rocking myself against her cock, I open myself to the flood of pleasure I’ve been holding back.  My orgasm rips through me, shaking my body and driving the air out of me in a long, guttural wail.  Spent and breathless, I collapse against Leila, as Yvonne’s hips finally come to rest.  My cunt spasms around the thick dildo, my stomach fluttering with aftershocks, but I’m cooked.

“Thank you, Santa, I say, gratefully, when I can speak again.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.

“You’re a good girl, Princess, Santa says, rubbing my back.  “You did very well.

“Ohmigawd, I gasp, letting my face drop entirely into Leila’s cleavage.

She laughs, easing me gently back and planting a kiss on my forehead.

“Okay, that was hot, she says, grinning.

“Yeah, I agree, meeting her hazel eyes.  “All of it.

Her grin widens.

“I’m not done with you yet, she promises, tapping my nose with her finger.

She straightens up, then, and wanders off, possibly to give me a minute alone with Yvonne.

It takes some effort but, panting and laughing, we get Santa’s cock extricated, and me onto my own, wobbly legs.

“I think I need a towel, I comment, giving Yvonne a hug.

“Me, too, Yvonne answers, with a wry glance at her leather pants.  They are slick with my sweat where I rode against her thighs, and her dildo is glistening with my cum in the dim light.  “You’re gonna need to give Santa a blow-job to clean this up.

I grin, wickedly, and drop to my knees.

Gazing up at Yvonne, I toy idly with her cock.

“You really want me to put the whole thing in my mouth? I ask, wide-eyed.  “It’s awfully big, Daddy.  I lick my lips, let my mouth fall open slightly.  “I might choke.

Yvonne grins at the change in game.

“But you’ll do it for Daddy, won’t you Baby Girl?

I slide my tongue along the length of the silicone, tasting myself all over her.

I look up at Daddy, my tongue on the head of her cock, and nod.

All that and more, I think.

The strains of Santa Baby start to flow through the club’s speakers.  Somewhere, I suspect, Leila has flicked the switch on the sound system.

Slowly, I take Daddy’s cock into my mouth.

I don’t care if the entire party walks in on me blowing their Santa Claus.  The night’s just getting started, and this little slut intends to enjoy it to the fullest.

Clive Dixon

An English teacher in a former life, Clive Dixon now works as a psychotherapist. When not listening to his clients talk about their sex lives, he writes erotic and other fiction. His stories have also appeared in Clean Sheets and Penthouse Variations.

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