Have you ever noticed that when you are depressed, the world seems so sickeningly happy? It’s the same kind of torture as when you diet, the world will turn up the heat on fast food joints. Anyhow, here I lay in bed, alone and naked. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s “Riviera Paradise,” is on endless repeat on the CD player. I’m mistress of my own pity party. Tonight, I’m the queen of Bitchdom.
However, I do take some happiness in knowing that I chose not to partake in the family torture holiday booz-a-rama. I glance at the clock, by now, there will be at least two fist fights, mom will be crying, grandpa is sleeping, and my lesbian sister will be entering with her gang of butch girls.
I thought my new choice would be better. However, I’m realizing that sometimes-alone can really be alone. Earlier, I had fixed my self a nice dinner, lit candles, had nice music, watched some movies, and soaked in a long hot bath. Now I’m pathetically lying in my bed.
I take a deep breath, relax a little more, and close my eyes. Logically, I know that by taking matters in my own hands, my life will be better. I wished silently that next year would be better, much, much better. At last, I can feel the waves of sleep claiming my body.
Suddenly, I hear noises. I know that someone is in my apartment. I can hear footsteps. I realize that my cordless phone is under the couch cushions to silence the family phone calls. My cell phone is in my purse. I can hear it being dumped out on the floor in the hallway. The voice of the stranger sounds large and mean. I finally remember that my old cop boyfriend bought me a .22 pistol just for moments like this. I fumble for the drawer of the nightstand. In the process, I knock over my nightlight and it crashes to the floor. The footsteps stopped and walk towards my door. Still fumbling türbanlı porno with the contents of the drawer, I finally find it and aim it at the door. I’m ready to blow away anyone that dares to fuck with me.
The doors bursts open and the light is flipped on. My eyes are trying to adjust.
“Who the fuck are you?” the voice asks.
I’m confused, why is the stranger asking me that. I should be asking that. MY eyes slowly adjust. I can’t believe it, it’s a man in a Santa suit.
“Is that thing loaded,” he asks, then he laughs.
I look at my shaking hands. I’m not holding the pistol. I’m aiming my vibrator at this guy.
Logic finally returns to me, “Wait a minute, who are you? Why are you robbing me?”
“Robbing you? I’m not robbing you! You’re in my apartment?” he said indignantly.
This has gone nuts. “This is my place!” I plead, “What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”
He slowly looks around. “Fuck, I can’t believe it. I’m in the wrong fuckin’ apartment!”
I can’t help but start to snicker, “Where are you supposed to be?”
“You’re in 510!”
“No fuckin’ way. I thought things looked different!”
I realize that this man is pretty drunk. I’m wondering how the management of the building has two keys that are the same as mine, and so close together. He is weaving back and forth; he keeps looking around the room, and finally smiles. “This ain’t my room”
I also finally realize, that I am sitting up in my bed, pointing my vibrator at a drunk Santa, and the covers are at my waist, my breasts are bare. I reach and pull the covers up to cover myself.
He looked disappointed. “Ohhh shit,” he said, “I was enjoying those!”
“I think you should leave before I call the türk porno cops.”
“Wait a minute, as long as I’m here, let me grant you three wishes.”
I should be fuming, but I am giving in to this charming but drunken Santa. After all, he is kinda cute. Prematurely gray, 6 foot tall, with deep blue eyes.
“I think that’s the Genie thing, you’ve got it mixed up.”
He ponders, and then he says “Pay no attention to the drunk Santa behind the curtain”
“Wizard of Oz” I correct.
“Hmmm, any chance you being Sleeping Beauty?”
“I never pictured Prince Charming with a fake beard.”
We both started chuckling, and that gave way to wholehearted laughing. I threw my vibrator at him.
He looked at me with wide eyes, and announced, “Pillow fight.” He ran across my room, grabbed my extra pillow and started hitting me with a pillow. I grabbed mine and fought back. I knew that the blankets had fallen away, but I didn’t care. I scored some big hits to his face and he fell down and faked to be dead.
“I’m dead,” he said as he fell on my bed.
I leaned over him, I smiled, “I bet I’m in big trouble for killing Santa!”
“Santa needs CPR,” he muttered.
I slowly put my lips on his, he kissed back. My tongue danced with his tongue. His hands found my breasts. Never have hands on my breasts felt so good, so warm, and so gentle. He teased my growing nipples. My pussy seemed to be wired directly to my nipples. I have never had this feeling before. For the first time in my life, I had a mild orgasm due to fondling my breasts.
I wrapped my legs around his waist. I could feel his hard on pressing against his Santa suit and my crotch. I asked quizzically, “Is that your Yule Log, or are you glad to see me?”
He just smiled. He whisked türkçe porno his beard off and put it over my chin, “Ok Mrs. Claus, be prepared for your gift!”
He relaxed my legs, and lowered his mouth to my pussy. I had another orgasm just on his touch. I was pumping away with my crotch to his penetrating tongue. He circled his tongue, sucked on my clit, and clenched on the cheeks of my ass with his powerful grip. I couldn’t hold back. I found myself begging for a good hard fucking. He obliged me, boy oh boy, did he oblige me. He freed the monster from his pants and brought it near my mouth, I sucked for a minute, then told him “No, it needs to go in me, DEEP! HARD! FAST!”
He lowered the monster and slid it right in my waiting pussy. I put my heels on his shoulders. He trusted away. He churned, He pumped and pumped. His hands were gripping my tits. They fought to spring free and thrash about. My nipples felt like they would soon explode.
I had waves of orgasms. Each one build on the other. I started to see colors. I felt faint and passed out as I felt him pump what seemed like gallons of cum in me.
I woke up alone early on Christmas morning. My bed was trashed. My body felt trashed. I thought to myself, “Did I dream this?” When I put my hand on the wet spot on the bed I knew that I hadn’t. My whole lower body felt like I had been riding a wild bull. I hoped to find my Santa making breakfast for me. I waddled to the kitchen wearing nothing but my bed sheets. He wasn’t anywhere to be found.
I saw my purse on the floor emptied. I pick up my wallet. All my cash was gone. So was my watch and earrings. I saw two notes on the counter. The first one said “Merry fuckin’ Christmas. The second one asked, “Do you believe in the Easter Bunny? I do.”
I was enraged! I thought I’m going right up to his apartment and ask him what the fuck he did with my money. He told me he lived in apartment 610. Then it dawned on me. There is no sixth floor!
I started to cry, then laugh. In some weird unthinkable way, I couldn’t wait until Easter!