Is That You Santa Claus Novels & Stories

Not with the paycheck. Christmas just got a whole lot fucking worse.

he chuckled. "It souds like those animal's nail, Claws." he said making his hand into a paw or a claw, whatever he meant. "Yeah yeah Klaus, it can also be like Santa Klaus." I laughed he too joined me. "This santa Klaus i gonna give you an awesome husband as a pre christmas gift." "We'll see." "Hmm..I'll call you Bell ...jingle Bell jingle Bell." "Haha very funny." "So ain't I your friend?" "Maybe you are."

We're fucked! "Why is Santa kissing mommy, and not daddy?" He puzzles. Merry-fucking-Christmas The Very End

"I can’t grant you that, dear." "But I thought Santa could grant anything," I say, frowning. "Except this," he states firmly. "Why not?" He gestures with his hands, frustration written all over his face. "Because I’m Santa, not a magician. Besides, how exactly am I supposed to give you… a good fuck?" I shrug. "I don’t know… maybe you could make a man appear in my room. Someone hot, exactly my type, who’d just… fuck me senseless. You’re Santa—you can do that, right?"

By the time Yves Golding got home, it was already midnight. I was lying in bed, staring at a photo of him and Melissa Lane. His abs showed faintly beneath his red Santa suit as she leaned against them, eyes shyly closed. Their colleagues had left comments below the post, saying that they were a perfect match and that Yves was quite bold. Melissa commented, "You guys, stop making things up. Mr. Golding was just being kind by keeping a lonely soul like me company for Christmas!"

"Your question was completely absurd. How could someone not know about Christmas? Or Santa Claus? Or the Advent Calendar? It is mind-boggling. I mean, Christmas iss everywhere – in movies, in songs, in advertisements. How could you not have come across any of it?" Feeling embarrassed, I responded, "I'm sorry, I really don't know. Can you please tell me?" Sandy looked at me suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. "Are you serious? You've never heard of Christmas or Santa Claus or anything?"

A little boy with brown hair, and brown eye stomped up the stairs, put his hands on his hips, and glared at Joe. “Hello Carlton. Merry Christmas!” Joe said enthusiastically. “You’re not Santa!” Carlton snapped. “I’m not?” “No!” “Then who am I?” “I don’t know, but there is no Santa! Santa isn’t real!” “Who told you that?” “My big brother! He told me I was a big baby if I still believed in Santa.” “I see. Can I ask you a question Carlton?” “Ye….yes.” “Do you, in your heart, believe Santa is real?”

I silently cursed when she closed the door and I saw who called me. Steps behind me made me turn around “Adrian!” I said the name of the caller. “Um, no. Just Santa,” said the person, who was now before me. Even more amazed, I inspected a guy in a Santa Claus costume. He was tall, with a perfect, soft long beard and a realistic huge belly under the warm red coat. “Oh, uhm…hi! Santa.” I stuttered, taking a step back. “It is me, M” Matt’s laugh echoed in the silent night.

he says glumly. “Welcome to being human.” I smile and stroke his cheek, running my fingers into his beard. “Thank you for trying and keeping your word. Maybe I don’t have answers, but it’s nice to know they’re coming. I’ll just think of it like waiting for presents from Santa. Just to be clear, Santa is made up, right?” He snorts, “You don’t seriously believe in Santa, do you?” “I just found out Gods and many other supernatural beings I thought were made up, now exist. Excuse me for double-checking,” I huff.

Curious? All right, if you promise to keep my secret I’ll tell you…here goes: I want to be fucked by Santa. Oh, c’mon, you know deep down you want it, too. I mean, he’s a guy who always knows what you want, his big bulky body has to be fairly strong to handle all those reindeer and he drives a freakin’ magic sleigh! That’s hawt, if you ask me. And those white whiskers and long, flowing beard…I shudder just to think of those whiskers tickling me in soft and pink places.