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It was a little past midnight when Santa slipped into Kim’s bedroom, but then it was always just past midnight on Santa-time. Only when the last present was delivered would time resume it’s natural progression, so Santa knew he had no need to rush, and he had every intention of making the most of that magical loophole this Christmas Eve.

He saved Kim’s house for last, not because she had headed up his naughty list, though he’d seen her while she was sleeping and knew when she was awake, and while some of the things he’d caught her doing when she was alone might count as naughty, they for sure weren’t bad.

Quietly, he unzipped his warm, red wool jacket and tossed it over a chair before sitting down to unlace his black leather boots that were leaving small wet puddles on the wood floor. In his wool socks, he padded over to the edge of the bed and sat down, watching Kim as visions of sugarplums danced in her head. The warm blankets were pulled up against her chin in the chilly room and she was curled in a snug little ball. She looked so cozy he hated to disturb her rest, and being Santa, he knew he could easily be in and out of her house without waking her, but her one request of him had been so specific and heartfelt, there was no way he would let her sleep through it.

Gently, he pushed her tousled curls out of her face and stroked her cheek. She shifted a bit in her sleep and snuggled deeper into her pillow. Santa smiled and leaned over, letting his soft, closely trimmed whiskers brush against the sensitive skin of her neck as he whispered in her ear, “Wake up, Kim. It’s Christmas.”

Kim opened her eyes and looked at him past lids still heavy with sleep. “Santa?”

Santa smiled. “Merry Christmas, Kim.”

Kim smiled back at him. Even in the bedroom lit only by the cold gray of the moonlight on the crest of the new-fallen snow, she could see his blue eyes twinkling and his merry dimples as he smiled down at her. “Did you get my letter?”

“That’s why I’m here. I don’t often get letters like that from grown-ups, but then, you’ve never stopped believing in me, have you?”

“Never,” she said. “Though you’re not quite what I expected.” She blushed slightly.

“You can’t believe everything you read, sweetie,” he said with a deep chuckle. “I don’t wear red velvet. Wool is warmer. And I only started growing the beard last January. I think it filled in nicely.” He scratched at the thick growth of dark brown hair on his chin with a satisfied smile, and Kim liked that it was not white and fluffy but merely shot through with silver, as was his close cropped hair.

Kim rolled onto her back and propped herself up against her pillows. Her sheet slipped down exposing a bare shoulder. “I thought you’d be older.”

“And fatter, too.” He laughed again, his deep sonorous chuckle filling the room. Kim blushed. “I admit, the cookies take their toll,” he said, patting his tummy, “but I try to keep myself in shape. More or less. I hit the gym a few times a week.” Kim laughed with Santa. “Now, about that letter of yours.”

She blushed a deeper red. “It was probably a bit forward of me,” she confessed.

“Only true believers write to me with any kind of directness. It’s as if they know we’ve got a business transaction of sorts going on. ‘Dear Santa: I’ve been good and you’re in the business of rewarding good behavior. Ergo, here is a list of my demands. Love Timmy.’ Timmy knows I make a list, I check it twice, and if he’s toed the line and been a good boy, I’ll make good on the whole Santa promise. It’s grown-ups who stop believing, or figure there’s some sort of a catch.” He studied her with a dimpled smile. “But not you.”

“You’ve never let me down before,” she said simply.

“And never will,” he said, sliding closer to her and running his hand over the bare skin of her shoulder and upper arm. She shivered slightly. “You’re under-dressed for a room this cold,” he said. “You’re going to freeze to death.”

“It’s nice and warm under the covers,” she said, snuggling back down under the thick down comforter. “And if you’re here to fill my Christmas wish, I expect I’m going to be warmer still before the night is through.”

Santa grinned at her and his eyes twinkled again. “We both are.”

He leaned over and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm on hers, and she returned his kiss, slipping her arms out of their warm cocoon and around his neck. Her hands skimmed over his shoulders, feeling his strong muscles beneath his well-worn flannel shirt. The blankets slipped down, exposing her bare breasts and she pulled him close, letting her hard nipples rub against the soft fabric.

Santa released her mouth and let his lips wander to her neck. She nuzzled close to him, breathing in the strong masculine scents of spice and evergreen, but with a hint of vanilla and a bit of peppermint. “You smell like Christmas,” she murmured into his ear.

He leaned back and smiled at her, taking her face in both of his hands. “I am Christmas, my love,” he said, and kissed her again. She tipped her head back and her lips parted, inviting him to take, as well as to give, and he did, seeking her tongue with his own and sliding his hands over her smooth, bare skin.

Her hands found the buttons on the front of his shirt and she undid them slowly, opening her gift with great care and deliberation. She peeled off the layer of flannel and he shrugged and let it slide to the floor. Reluctantly pulling away from her candy-sweet kisses, he pulled his thermal shirt over his head and tossed it aside before reclaiming her. He pulled her close, stretching out beside her to feel her skin against his.

She ran her hands through his chest hair, exploring his body. Her hands were as soft as velvet in their seeking, grazing over his nipples that had grown as hard as holly berries and over his soft, slight paunch. He smirked at her. “Cookies,” he said again. “They’re going to be the death of me.”

Kim laughed and let her hands slide lower. “I don’t mind,” she said, as her hands skimmed over the denim of his pants. His breath caught as her fingers touched him through the sturdy fabric. “It seems like a good time to make a North Pole joke,” she said, “but I’m sure you’ve heard them all before.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said, exhaling deeply. “Not a lot of women visit the North Pole.”

Kim was indeed surprised. “Not even a cute little lady elf from time to time?”

“Between the inter-species difficulties and the complications of employee relations, power struggles and what have you, it’s really just not worth it. It’s easier, safer, and better for everyone if I just polish my own sleigh. So to speak.”

“Now that’s a shame,” she said, popping the button of his fly open and sliding the zipper down. Her hand worked inside his flannel-lined jeans and she pushed them down on his hips, freeing his cock. He moaned as her fingers stroked the velvety hardness and she felt him respond in her hand. “Santa really deserves a gift, too.”

She helped him wriggle out of his jeans and she pulled the covers back, inviting him into her warm bed. He pulled the blankets around them and kissed her, feeling his desire go from the low, glowing warmth he felt for her all year long grow into a strong flame, crackling between them. He explored the body he’d coveted for so long, letting his hands wander a form as softly sloping and smoothly white as rolling hills covered in a fresh layer of new snow. Only infinitely warmer, he thought, as she parted her thighs and offered herself to him, asking him with her body to add more fuel to the growing fire.

His fingers parted the tangle of curls and sought her clit, her deep sigh of delight as he gently rubbed the hard little berry caused him to throb in her hand. Her hand closed around the shaft and she stroked him gently, drawing a low moan from the back of his throat. Hungrily, his lips closed on hers, tasting her mouth, then her neck, and over her breast to her quivering nipples. He flicked at the firm little gumdrop, making her squirm before sucking it into his mouth.

Kim parted her legs wider for him, still stroking his hard, thick cock, until he slipped out of her grasp as he continued kissing a trail down her nude body. Over her belly button and down to her mound, tickling her with his beard and nibbling a path to her pussy.

The air in the room was cold as the warm blankets slipped away, but neither Santa nor Kim felt it. She grasped at the sheets beneath her as his hands parted her thighs and spread her wide, and she held her breath as she anticipated the touch of his mouth on her. He kissed her quivering clit, pressing his lips to it and rubbing them back and forth. He sucked gently, pulling the tender bit of flesh between his lips, letting his tongue slide against it. Kim moaned and put her head back against the soft pillows, letting Santa eat her pussy.

He savored her like a Christmas feast, running his lips and tongue over her shining pink folds, dipping his tongue in to savor the musky sweetness of her. He wrapped his arms around her soft ass and pulled her close hungrily, letting her juices run down his chin and soak his beard. He tickled her with the coarse hairs, running them up and down the soft skin and making her sigh with pleasure.

Only when she was grabbing the head board and begging him for more did he slide up her body, warm skin on warm skin, his legs between hers as she wrapped her legs around his strong back. Her hands encircled him, pulling him close, seating him between her thighs as he put the hot head of his cock against her pussy.

Gently and slowly, he slid inside her, letting her feel every inch of his shaft as it filled her. She looked into his eyes and saw the warm twinkle replaced with a strong, steady glow. She kissed him, feeling their bodies joined and their hearts beating as one. She tasted her own passion on his lips and her cunt contracted at the deliciousness of it. She tilted her hips, wanting to feel him even deeper. “I love you, Santa,” she said.

“I love you too, Kim. I’ve always loved you.”

Slowly he began to move, pressing his cock deep inside her before pulling out slowly. She was tight and hot and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so complete in a woman’s arms. He sank into her again, feeling her hips come up to meet his, her lips on his own, their breathing and movements falling into synch as if they had always known the rhythm of this dance.

Outside the frosty-paned window, the evening was still and the moonlight was clear, cold and bright. The snow sparkled like tiny diamonds, and not a creature was stirring as the two bodies joined together and time stood still. The only sounds that night were the soft, muffled noises of lovemaking—gentle sighs and deep moans, the squeak of the bed frame with each deep thrust, the soft smack of damp flesh grown sweaty with exertion and the heat of passion. Wet kisses and soft grunts as they moved faster, thrust harder, giving themselves over to each other and to the final, ultimate release of pleasure.

Kim cried out as she felt his cock swell inside her, bursting forth like the spew of foam from a champagne bottle, running out of her in celebration. Her own pleasure exploded, set off by his climax, and she clutched at him, letting wave after wave erupt and throb deep within.

They lay together as the sound of a rooster crowing broke the stillness of an early Christmas dawn. Her bedside clock read 4:30 and Santa kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her. “Come back with me to the North Pole,” he said.

As the first rays of Christmas dawn rose over the world, Santa and Kim flew over the icy frozen northern pole of the world, and under a pink and purple sky, nestled in the crook of Santa’s strong arm while he held the reins of his sleigh, Kim got the first glimpse of her new home at the North Pole.