They came in a little too fast and made a hell of a racket during the landing. Kris sighed and shook his head. He could say something to them, but there was no point to it, they weren’t going to listen. They didn’t get nearly enough flight time during the rest of the year, so when the opportunity arose, they always went too fast.

He grabbed his sack and stepped out of the sleigh, sinking into the snow covering the roof and started for the chimney. He laid a finger along side of his nose, winked and swirled into a red and black cyclone that rose up over the lip of the chimney and vanished down the flue.

Sue’s eyes popped open as she heard the noise on the roof, and she looked at the ceiling. She couldn’t believe it. Either some dim bulb was trying to break into the house by coming down the chimney, where, incidentally, there was a gas stove insert installed, or her best girlfriend had been right all along, insisting that Santa was real.

Sue was eighteen years old, a brunette, five feet tall and slender. She was a pretty girl, with a bright smile that showed her even, white teeth and crinkled her nose. Her eyes were brown and her mouth was wide, with full, red lips. She played basketball and field hockey, and it showed. Her body was firm and muscular, with long, slim legs, trim hips, a taut, round little ass, a tiny waistline and teacup sized breasts. She was an adventurous girl, and not the least bit shy about going after whatever she wanted.

She was a tad embarrassed that she was camped out on her parents sofa in the living room, but her best friend Katie had insisted that Santa was real and that she would not regret waiting for him, although Katie flatly refused to tell her why.

“Trust me!” Katie had said earlier that day, her eyes burning into Sue’s. “If you believe hard enough, if you believe with all your heart, this night will change your life.”

She watched in astonishment through slitted eyes as the gas stove just ... vanished and a small red and black tornado popped out of the fireplace. It hovered over the hearthrug for a moment and suddenly solidified into a very big fat man. He was dressed in a red suit trimmed with white fur, shining black boots, an equally shiny, wide black belt and black mittens. Behind him, a fire just ... faded in, on a grate that hadn’t been there in years. She could hear the wood popping and smell the fragrance of it as it merrily blazed away.

Sue blinked, shook her head, rubbed her eyes and stared at the quite frankly impossible scene in front of her. It couldn’t be, but it was. Santa Claus!

She forgot her plan she had made if the impossible happened and he actually showed up, and stared at him as he let an enormous sack drop to the floor from his shoulder, and then straightened up with a groan. The sack landed with a thud that seemed to shake the house, but Santa was blissfully unaware of the noise he was making. He found the plate of cookies that she had put out for him, and he wolfed them down. They vanished very quickly indeed, and so did the glass of milk.

He set the glass down and let go a thunderous belch, sighed in satisfaction and started to dig into the huge sack. Sue suddenly remembered why she was there and picked up her daddy’s digital camera, aimed it at the fat man and pressed the shutter button.

Nothing. No flash, no click of the shutter, no nothing. She turned the camera around to see what’s wrong with it, and it went off, the flash blinding her for a moment and making her gasp in surprise. When she could see again, past the after-image of the explosion of light that had dazzled her, Santa was standing in front of her, a merry grin on his face, his eyes crinkled with laughter.

“Ho, ho, ho! What are you doing here, sweet Sue? You should be tucked away in your bed, dreaming sweet dreams of Christmas day.” The chuckles rolled out of him and his belly shook with each one. His voice was deep and rich, and as soothing as a hot bath on a cold winter’s day.

Sue rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of the after-image of the camera flash, and then looked at him again, her jaw slack with disbelief. “I must be dreaming!” she said to herself. She pinched her thigh and winced, and forgot to rub the spot as she stared at the impossible sight before her again.

“Ho, Ho, Oh, you don’t believe what you’re seeing!” He leaned over her and looked her in the eye. She could smell his breath, redolent with the odors of peppermint candy canes, sweet, dark chocolate and other Christmas goodies. His smiling eyes caught hers and held her spellbound as she gazed into their depths.

“Are you really...” She couldn’t finish the question; suddenly she was afraid that she was losing her mind, and that he really wasn’t who he seemed to be.

“That’s right, sweet Sue. I’m Santa Claus, in the flesh.” He straightened up, his eyes never leaving hers. “Ho, Ho, Oh, you’re worried. You think that you’re losing your mind, or that you’re dreaming.” A huge grin split his snow-white beard and he laughed again. He turned and waved, his hand leaving a trail of sparkles hanging in the air, and a huge throne appeared next to the Christmas tree. He sat in it and patted his knee. “Come and sit on my knee, sweet Sue, and let’s see if we can figure out if you’re right or wrong.”

Sue slowly got off the couch and approached him, stopping just out of reach. He leaned forward and she gasped as he scooped her up in his arms, even though she’d been a good five feet away from him. He sat her on his lap and smiled at her merrily, his hand patting her knee.

“You’ve nothing to fear from me, sweet Sue.” he chuckled. He patted her knee again. “If this is a dream, like you think it is, well, nobody ever got hurt from a dream, did they?” Sue shivered as he rubbed her knee. His hand was warm, very warm in fact, and his mittens had vanished, even though she had not seen him take them off.