Late on Christmas Eve, I helped my mother put the last of the Christmas presents under the tree. Our tree looked like Charlie Brown's tree with its needless branches, lopsided stance, and sizable "bald" spots. And the handful of presents underneath made it look even more pitiful. We barely had enough money to pay the bills, much less money to spend on a lot of Christmas presents. But Terry still believed in Santa, so we worked hard not to disappoint him.

Mom and I know the real story about Santa. However, even though Santa Claus isn't real, Scrooge and the Grinch are real and are rolled up into one person--my father. The reason there wasn't a lot of presents under the tree this year was that the divorce between my parents became final earlier in the year, and my father paid a lawyer a lot of money to insure that his wife and children got nothing from him.

After the divorce, I knew my mom was lonely. She was able to find a job as a check-out clerk at a local grocery store. The job didn't pay a lot, and often had her working odd hours, but it was enough to pay the rent on a small apartment for the three of us and buy food and clothes. But between the job and taking care of us, mom was always busy.

I knew she was lonely and unhappy. She once told me, "Krystal, I really don't deserve to be happy after what happened with your father." I wish there was something I could do to change her mind. I wished I could convince her that all men aren't bad, but I wasn't so sure myself.

Around Thanksgiving, I took a part-time job at the same store stocking the shelves at night so I could still attend high school during the day. It was because of this job that we were able to buy the few Christmas presents we did for Terry.

After I placed the last present under the tree, I reached over and gave my mother a hug. She said, "Go on to bed, dear. I'll see you in the morning."

I walked into the closet I called a bedroom, and curled up and went to sleep.

I wasn't asleep for long before I heard a strange noise from the other room. I quietly opened the door and looked out, and there was mom sprawled out in front of the Christmas tree and a man wearing a red jacket and no pants had his head buried between her legs.

He wasn't fat and he wasn't old. While he did have a white beard and hair, it wasn't nearly as long as his classic image. In fact he was downright cute, for someone my mother's age. I watched them make love for quite a while and wondered who he really was.

After all, Santa Claus isn't real I thought to myself. Even if he was, there was no way he could visit every house in a single night. Especially if he had to leave presents like the one he was giving my mom.

"Santa is very talented." I heard from behind me. I turned around and found myself face to face with Santa Claus. I looked back through the doorway and Santa was still there having sex with my mother.

This Santa looked different than the one in the living room. He was much younger and he beard was even shorter. His face really looked sexy. But then my mind snapped back to reality. With a confused look on my face, I stammered "how... can... you..."

Santa just looked at me and smiled. "Christmas is magic, Krystal."

"My... name... how..."

"All sorts of things that you believe are impossible can happen at this time of year.", he said with his deep green eyes.

"But..."

"I know that you're mom is very lonely. That's why I'm giving her that present in the other room. In the morning, you'll find that she'll be able to put your father behind her for good."

"Then why are you here talking to me?"

"I know the sacrifices you made so that your little brother could have a nice Christmas. I also know that there isn't anything under the tree for you, so I'm here to give you your Christmas present personally."

I heard a moan come from my mother as she enjoyed Santa's attention. I looked Santa in the eye and said, "But all I really want is for my mom to be happy, and it looks like you're doing that already."

Santa looked at me and smiled. "I also knew what your father did to you. I know that you're afraid of men and one of the reasons you took that night job was so you had a convenient excuse when someone asked you out on a date."

"How did you know? I never told anyone that my father... not even my mother..." I stammered.

"Let me show you that all men aren't rapists..." Then Santa reached over and held me in his muscular arms. He bent his head over mine and his lips reached out to kiss me.

I felt the magic of Christmas take over my body. I don't know how he did it, but the next thing I knew I was laying in the middle of my bed and my clothes were neatly folded on my dresser. Santa, with his short white beard, was kneeling between my legs while he licked my pussy. I looked over the rest of his body. It was lean and muscular and I wondered where he hid the 'bowl full of jelly'.

When his tongue touched my clit, I screamed. Then I panicked when I thought about what would happen if Terry woke up and saw Santa eating my cunt.