I won't bother trying to describe myself. You've all heard my description--

"nose like a cherry", and a

"belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly"

and all that shit. What the prick who wrote all that about me didn't know was what was hanging under that bowl of jelly. What's the point of fulfilling all those wishes for everybody else if you can't help yourself out once in a while?I get around a bit, about once a year. Most of the time I'm just hanging around the old pole, trying to interest Mrs. Clause in a little of the old roly poly, usually with damned little success. For a long time I just thought she was too old for sex, then I began to notice that far-away look in her eye more and more often and thought I could see more movement under her long skirts than could reasonably be explained. So, I kind of lurked around the corner of the hall one day until she began breathing a little faster and moaning a bit.Before long, she was really yelling for somebody to go faster because she was about to cum. I couldn't figure it out because I had just left the room a few minutes earlier and thought she was alone. Then it dawned on me. I stalked back in there, stood directly in front of the hussy and whipped her long skirts up.Yep, there was that damned Pinnoccio doll she had asked for last XXXmas, and from the looks of things, he had been telling many, many lies. I was so disgusted.

"You think just because you're a doll you can get away with anything, don't you? Going around sticking your nose in other people's business! Now go wipe that stuff off your nose and try to act like a little boy for a change."

Mrs. Clause looked at me tearfully, not knowing what direction my wrath would lead me in this time. I guess she was remembering the time I caught her with Rudolph, but that's another story.However, I couldn't get too mad at her. At least this told me she hadn't lost interest in sex, she just got more kinky.

"Don't worry, sweet cheeks. I'm not mad, but just to even things up a bit, I'm thinking about paying a visit to the teenage boys' wish locker."

"Oh, no, dear. Don't do that. You know how weak in the knees that leaves you and you have a lot of traveling to do this week. Just let me suck on that big thing a little while you calm down. You really need to finish reading that stack of letters that came in this morning. I've sorted them by age group and sex. Tell you what. Why don't you read a few from this batch while I hum your favorite tune?"

"Good idea, dear. Let's see now."

"Dear Santa. My name is Nadine and I'm 23 years old. I'm still a virgin because I'm too afraid of how it may change me if I ever lose my virginity. I am so crazy about sex that I've already worn out all those silly vibrators you brought me last year. They were costing me a fortune in batteries, anyhow. I know that it is probably asking too much, but could you see your way clear to stopping by my house long enough to pop my cherry for me? It would make me ever so happy. Here's a picture of me and my pussy. Hope you like it. (Signed) Nadine"

"Ho, ho, ho. There's one good little girl who will get her wish."

Mrs. Clause took her mouth off long enough to complain at my disrespect.

"Who you calling a 'Ho', Fat Man? I never charged a penny in my life. In fact, it's getting where I have to pay more every time, it seems."

"Shut up and suck, woman. I'm busy reading here."

"Dear Santa. My name is RuthEllen and I'm having so much fun with those lovely boobs you gave me last year. All the boys seem to enjoy them, too. Last night I let Mr. Brown get a good look at them when he was taking out the garbage and I think he liked them, too. He takes out the garbage a lot. The cans are right under that little slit where my shades don't quite come to the bottom of the window if I'm not really, really careful, you know. Anyhow, I was massaging them like you showed me to do to help them grow evenly, and I could hear him trying to get the lid on the can without looking down. I felt so sorry for him, poor man, so I made sure he could see ok without having to climb too high, but I guess it wasn't good enough because I heard a lot of banging and cussing after a while. Maybe I can take some chicken soup over to him after his wife leaves for work. Oh, and could you please bring me one of those Pinoccio dolls you were telling me about? Love, RuthEllen."

"Dear Santa. My name is SueAnn. I'm from Texas, too, and my boyfriend just can't seem to keep up. I've tried and tried to get him to take his Viagra you gave me last year, but he says there's no skin left on it. If he takes any more Viagra, he'll bleed to death. What am I going to do? I really enjoy it when you let me sit on your lap, but that only happens once a year. Can you bring me something for my problem? I can't wait to sit on your 'lap' again, if you know what I mean. Last year, it was the middle of January before I had much feeling in my pussy after that stretching you gave me. I'm not complaining, but you sure make a girl look forward to XXXmas. Love and kisses, SueAnn."

"Dear Santa. I feel silly writing this because most of my friends tell me you don't exist, but SueAnn and RuthEllen have told me some pretty wild tales and I guess I don't really have anything to lose except my pride if this is just a practical joke, so here goes. What I want is a tight pussy. No, I don't mean I want to get my cat drunk. I mean I wish the little bitty cocks I get around these parts could reach both sides at once. It's hard as hell to have to keep wiggling back and forth so one side doesn't dry out before he can work his way back over to it. I mean, shit! I thought Texans were supposed to have big dicks and I can squeeze a hot dog in two without trying too hard and still can't get any satisfaction. If you can't make my pussy any tighter, can you at least get me a job in New York? I've heard they are all pricks, there. Love, NancyJane."

"Dear Santa. My name is BillyJoeBob and I don't know what kind of shit my girlfriend is writing you but I can tell you one thing. One woman's 'hot dog' may be another man's 'stick of baloney', if you get my drift, and she couldn't get a good grip on a dry two-by-four with those loose flaps she calls 'lips'. I hope to hell she asks you for a tighter pussy, like she's always threatening. It wouldn't hurt a thing if you could take some of those warts off while you're at it, too. Thanks a lot, BillyJoeBob."

"Yo Santa. I know everybody thinks we're all a bunch of big pricks here, but I want to know what time you're fuckin going to get here this year, you old fart. Last year I had to fuckin wait all fuckin night long for your fuckin sleigh to get up on the fuckin roof and one ah your fucking reindeer shit all down my fuckin chimney and I can't get the fuckin smell out of it. Try to get your lazy fuckin ass here on time this year and plan to spend some fuckin time cleaning my fuckin chimney or I'll sue your fuckin ass off. Oh, and bring me a million fuckin dollars, motherfucker... (Signed) Vinnie.I had to stop and think a minute before I could place the darling boy. I suppose I had sort of blocked that memory and Mrs. Clause was beginning to hum the credenza about now, so I grabbed another letter to help divert my mind a little, although the thought of how much he would enjoy a million crabs made me smile."

Dear Santa. I'm ever so hopeful that you will grant my wish this year. I know you told me to be patient, but this is the 27th year that I've waited for Mr. Handsome to come back and let me see him after XXXmas is over. It's not that I haven't enjoyed his special game he plays every year right after I hear you drive away. You know, the one where he throws my skirt up over my head so I can't see him and sticks that big thing in me, while he calls me his