Santa's Helper - Cover

Santa's Helper

by Dreamwalker

Copyright© 2009 by Dreamwalker

Fantasy Sex Story: Okay, I told myself play along if this is a dream don’t wake me. I was dying to see what this intruder was really up too. After all there is no such thing as Santa Claus.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   Consensual   BiSexual   .

You know how the Christmas story went, "Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse." Well, in my house, there was no one stirring, except me, I'm wide-awake, and surfing the net. Our, two dogs were sleeping in their kennel, and my husband, was sleeping soundly in the bedroom down the hall.

It's Christmas Eve, and for the first time, we aren't able to spend it with our children. However, we made the best of it, and had that day all planned out; sleep late, play lazy, and maybe with weather permitting go to a movie. My husband even had a holiday feast in mind, turkey, with all its trimming, green-bean casserole, baked potatoes, apple salad, and a yummy apple pie for dessert.

A smile crossed my face as I remembered the comment he made. "Honey, this meal is guaranteed to spice up our life, and expand our waistlines."

I chuckled in reply, "For your information, my waistline doesn't need any more expansion, it need more reduction."

As I sit here, I look around the room, a festive Christmas tree decorated one corner of the living room, lights twinkle in every window, and a decorative candle adorned the coffee table ... so why am I feeling so blue right now?

Maybe it's because up until a few years ago, we'd spend Christmas here at home, with a house full of people, children's laughter, great food, homemade candy, a variety of gifts, and the harmonious sounds of Christmas carols, serenading through the air.

I know that life goes on children grow into adults, and start families of their own. Nowadays we'd travel to see them, during the holidays, and make new memories.

This year's different, because I myself cannot travel to see them. Although my mind says yes, my body, with its numerous health problems says no. I just want to ignore things and yell, "Baahumbug," and enjoy the joyous season anyways.

I put my head in my hands and whispered, "You know what I want for Christmas? I want someone special, just for me, to help me do those things I no longer can do." I giggled and smirked, "Like that's going to happen."

I logged off the computer, and then went into the kitchen and poured myself of cup of eggnog, and added a little bit more rum than usual to it. Why not, maybe it could warm up my spirit.

I then walked into the living room, went over to the sofa, sat down, and pulled back the curtain to see if it was snowing yet. After all, I'm always wishing for a White Christmas.

Some of Jack Frost's handiwork covered the window and the streetlight looked like a refracted halo. I scraped some of the ice away, and could see big puffy snowflakes and about two inches of snow on the ground. I think its pristine whiteness is enchanting. Some of our neighbors go all the way out and have many Christmas lights. The white blanket reflected a holiday spectrum of colors, red, green, and gold. For a moment, I forgot about being depressed on Christmas Eve

I finished the eggnog, sighed, and decided to go back to bed. I soon feel asleep, probably due to the liquor.

I not sure what woke me up; but when I listened closely, the sound appeared to be coming from the den. I stretched, and thought, 'It's probably the dogs, chasing there toys across the floor. A second later, I froze, because they're in the kennel and their toys are in another room. I desperately tried to wake hubby up so he could go check out things, but the only thing that could do that was a lightning strike.

So, I bit my lip, cursed under my breath, slithered out of bed, and put on my robe. I decided not to turn the light on to look for my shoes, because I was shaking so badly with fear, I thought I would knock it off the bedside table onto the floor. As my beating heart echoed like a big base drum in my ears I crept toward the bedroom door. All of a sudden, my toe found it. I though about covering my mouth to stifle a scream, but I was too freaking afraid to say anything.

I peaked around the door to see what the noise was and didn't see a thing. I walked cautiously toward the den, shaking so badly I thought I would pass out with each step I took. About half way through that room, I could see into the living room. To my surprise there in front of our Christmas tree was the intruder.

I shook my head, because for a moment, I thought I was seeing some one in a red Santa suit. It cannot be, maybe the rum was playing tricks with my head. I decided to get a closer look, and slowly I crept towards him, thinking to myself, it this is Santa, I want to make sure eye-to-eye.

The close I got, the more puzzled I become. The intruder was not a jolly ole man; the curves were all in the wrong places.

I mustered all the courage within me and asked, "Aren't you suppose to be a jolly fat man, who comes down the chimney?"

The intruder screamed, like a woman. "You scared me!"

"I scared you? Lady this is my house!"

She blushed and then asked, "Is this 410 Greenville rd, Brentwood Tennessee?"

I was even more confused at this point and answered, "Yes, why you asking?"

"I have strict orders from St Nick himself to be here in your house under your tree tonight. I was just about to sit down when you scared the dickens out of me. Pull up a chair I will explain everything."

 
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