This story centers around the visit of the lovely and vivacious Sue (who looks and acts a lot like me, although she apparently has smaller breasts and nipples that respond slightly more slowly than mine do to gentle caresses) to the mall's Victoria's Secret shop at the end of a long day of Christmas shopping. Two libidinous female employees invite her to join the after hours festivities, at which she will become the Christmas present for the mall's Santa.
I guess I shouldn't spoil the suspense -- but the supposed impostor is the real Santa himself. (This is where Sue departs a little from reality. Her Santa is not circumcised. He was the last time I made love to him.) Sue has a lot of fun with the story, replacing the typical descriptions of sexual activity with terms and metaphors related to the Christmas season. I checked with my word processor's "find" function, and the word "musky" doesn't appear even once; and the only time "rod" occurs is in the middle of "strode," "produced," and "prodigious" -- the latter not in its usual context in a sex story! Instead, the aroma emanating from his cock is "the delicate fragrance of apple blossoms and almonds, with maybe a hint of balsam fir." Santa's rotund cock is deliciously sweet and fruity. And Santa's sweet candy cane drives deeply into Sue's fiery open hearth. The only image I found to limp a little was Santa's offer to let Sue ride his North Pole.
Of course, like any depraved a.s.s. writer, Sue skirts the moral issue: what about poor Mrs. Claus, waiting chastely at home at the North Pole with all those tiny but horny little elves? Nevertheless, this story managed to get the vision of Santa's "sugar plum" dancing in my head. This story definitely put me into the spirit of things. You'll have to read the story to find out what Santa said as he rose out of sight.