Unedited Christmas post. I do hope everyone’s Christmas is lovely.
–
Christmas music filled the house, rivaling the laughter from their family.
Tracey fluttered around the kitchen. Her mother was barking orders even though it wasn’t her house. All part of the Christmas shuffle, more background noise that Tracey tried to let float over her. She was waiting for an excuse to take a little time to herself.
“Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas.”
Patrick’s deep voice carried over the music. The roar of the children made her smile.
Wiping her hands, she excused herself from the kitchen to get a few things from the pantry out in the garage. She left the light off, letting the glow from the hallway guide her.
She had just opened the pantry doors when a white-gloved hand wrapped around her throat and she was pulled against a firm body. A bearded face pressed against her cheek, a hint of whisky on his breath as he spoke in a low voice.
“Have you been naughty or nice?”
Tracey struggled for a moment, the hand tightening around her throat until she was forced to go limp. He pulled her out of the pantry, deeper into the garage, pushing her into the concrete wall. His hand remained tight at her throat, a reminder of his control.
He pressed into her, pushing her leggings down and her sweater up. She could feel the rough rub of his costume on her back.
“You’ve been bad, haven’t you?” His other hand was rough against the gusset of her panties. “This is what bad girls get.”
Tracey’s mouth gaped as he rubbed hard at her cunt through her panties. She was surrounded by him. The stab of his buckle at her low back, the tickle of his beard on her face, the whiskey on his breath, and the hint of peppermint that overlaid it all.
She wanted to look in his eyes, to see the way they glowed as he rubbed his clothed cock against her. He held her steady, keeping her cheek on the cold concrete. She found her hips moving counter to his
“Do you want to come, little girl?”
“Yes.” She breathed out the word, nodding to confirm the need bubbling in her core.
He loosened his hold on her throat and then tightened it. “Ask nicely.”
Tracey could only mouth the words. Please, may I come.
“Santa?”
The voice of a child echoed in the garage. He released his hold on her, letting her catch herself against the wall. Slowly, his body left hers until the chill of air stole across her naked skin.
“You’ll have to wait to get your Christmas present.” He patted her bottom and turned to grab the sack that had been left in the corner.
Tracey leaned into the wall, panting to catch her breath. He was already walking back toward the door, red sack in hand.
“I found the presents for some very good little children.”
It took a moment before she could set herself to rights. When she entered the kitchen with the things she’d gone to get, her mother eyed her before handing her an apron.
“Turkey isn’t the only thing looking ready.”
