You know what I love about coming home to my girlfriend at night? She always surprises me. And tonight is no exception.
I took the Santa Claus gig at the local mall because we needed extra money. It’s not the because of the love of making little kids smile or creating memories for parents. Fuck no. I got the gig so we won’t be in the fucking dark for the month of December. It’s the recession and we’re barely making it. Trish had to pick up a few extra shifts at her waitressing job just to make sure our bills are covered. So yeah. Ho-fucking-ho-ho.
But being Santa Claus is not what’s cracked up to be. Screaming babies, impatient parents, and shitty diapers are only the highlights of my day. I sit in an uncomfortable throne that’s supposed to look like it’s made of plush velvet but really made out of some hard-ass plywood that’s conveniently covered. So now I have ass splinters on top of smelling like baby vomit at the end of the day. Yeah, go ahead and laugh. Everyone else does; you should join the party.
It’s 8 o’clock and that means it’s time for me to get the fuck home and think about how much of a douchebag I’ve become. Being 29 and working as a part-time Santa is not how I imagined my life after graduation. Oh well. I leave the mall and make a beeline straight home. All I want to do is sit on the couch, scratch my nuts and watch some SportsCenter. But the moment I step through the door, I know that’s not going to happen. It seems Trish had other ideas in mind. Her thigh-high red latex boots and her hot little Mrs. Santa number tells me she wants something more. But that blaring Nine Inch Nails music in the background definitely tells me she doesn’t want to be made love to tonight. She wants to be fucked like it’s nobody’s business. Suddenly, I’m not so tired anymore.
She turns to me and looks at me with a sexy twinkle in her eyes. I know what that means. I’m barely taking off my dirty-ass Santa costume before I see Trish adjust herself on the dining room table. She spreads her legs and all I see is pink. Her shaven lips are begging me to spread them and see that wonderful, delicious clit. Her Santa dress is barely containing her big-ass titties and it’s just barely holding up with a few strings. That’s okay. I’ll rip those damn things apart and buy her a new outfit later. Fuck it, start a tab. I’m going to be tearing up a lot of shit tonight.
I clear off the table and all sorts of shit fall and break on the floor. I told you to start a tab. Anyways, my focus is on fucking my girlfriend’s tight little pussy, not some goddamn Crate & Barrel shit. I’m barely out of my Santa uniform when my cock jumps out of my pants. He’s ready and I can’t blame him. I position myself in between Trish’s thighs and enter her wet heat. Fuck, she feels amazing. It’s been a while since we fucked and it’s something we both need right about now.
But my baby doesn’t want the romantic shit and honestly, I can’t blame her. I just need to knock it out of the park right now. I start to thrust fast inside her, making the kitchen table squeak and move with every motion. I lift her legs so her ankles are by my ears and I just go hard. Trish is barely holding onto the table while she screams out in pleasure. That’s right, baby. Scream for Daddy.
Trish climaxes shortly afterwards and I slow down to let cum all over my dick. But we’re not done. Not by a long shot.
To be continued….