Mrs Santa Blow Mold Novels & Stories

“It’s a miracle the North Pole hasn’t melted from how hot you look,” Santa drawled. Mrs Santa was back and fuck did she look a lot more hotter than she had left. Her boobs were huge and almost spilling from the low cut shirt she had on. Santa’s eyes lingered a bit too much at her chest before taking down her body as he took her in. Her waist was smaller than he remembered and her ass fatter. His dick immediately hardened. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, pulling her close with his hands by the waist.

Jenna and Oliver dozed off together, her head on his chest, his hand absentmindedly stroking her arm. The room felt like safety. Home. At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep, tucked against Blaise’s heartbeat, Storm tucked against mine — because the next thing I heard was Beth whispering loudly: “Just come in — they’re all out.” Blaise shifted, blinking awake. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. And then— Santa stepped into our den. Full suit. Boots. The big red bag slung over his shoulder. Behind him, in a green velvet dress and holly in her hair, stood Mrs. Claus.