SANTA'S NAUGHTY AUNTS

As if the holidays aren't crazy enough, with the shopping and the traffic and the non-stop Christmas carols that are like the sound of a dentist's drill to my tortured ears, I'm in considerable demand around town for people who need a stooge to play Santa Claus. It seems like every church, elementary school, and shopping center within five miles has my phone number and knows that I make a convincing St. Nick. I'm a largish individual, six-three and with a considerable circumference, so I look the part. And it's hard to turn down a chance to make little kids happy, especially since my mother is usually the one giving out my name and number so freely.

I don't think Mom would be so enthusiastic if she knew what happened the first time I put on the red suit. Two years before she'd called me at the last second because Vince Peterson, the jerk who was supposed to do the ho-ho-hoing for her church group, had fallen down his steps and broken an ankle. I bailed my mother out, but no one had told my Aunt Jess, who belongs to the same group as my Mom, that I was pinch-hitting. It turned out that this Peterson prick had been trying to get my Aunt into bed for months, and that she'd decided that THIS would be the night. Turns about my Aunt always had a fantasy about sitting in Santa's lap, but not to tell him what presents she wanted, if you get the drift.

My Aunt Jess is a sexy, busty woman with sparkling blue eyes and spiky brown hair, a relentless flirt who I'd had guilty fantasies about since the day I met her. She's the second wife of my Uncle Don, my mother's brother, so when she started taking off her clothes, not knowing that it was her nephew behind the beard, I comforted myself that what was about to happen wouldn't exactly be incest because we weren't related by blood. As if that would get me off the hook if anyone found out.

The sex was UNBELIEVABLE, made even more so because Aunt Jess didn't know that it was me she was screwing. I stayed in character, deepening my voice and telling her, "Oh, you're a naughty girl, you're very naughty indeed!" as she sat in my lap and eased her pussy up and down my shaft. Through it all she believed she was fucking Vince Peterson, and that ignorance lasted until the next day, when she called Vince, found out he was laid up, and learned from my mother that her darling nephew owned the penis that she had stroked, kissed, sucked, and fucked.

Of course she was aghast, outraged, angry. What I didn't expect was her insistence that our affair continue. We were standing in the driveway of my mother's house, Aunt Jess smoking a cigarette, and after she took a long drag she blew a cloud of smoke over my shoulder and looked at me with a coy, sexy glimmer in her blue eyes. She said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to deny myself the most incredible lover I've ever had."

"Wait, what?" I'd said with disbelief.

"I mean that you come to my house tonight, after nine, when Don goes out to watch the football game, but this time don't bring the Santa suit. I think fucking you should be enough of a taboo without you being dressed as Santa Claus."

"You, you want to keep doing this?"

She dropped her cigarette on the street and stubbed it out. "Honey, I know how to please a man. You mean to tell me that wasn't the best fuck of your life?"

I gulped. "Yes, it was. It was incredible."

"Then come over after nine, and we'll play some reindeer games."

For the next two years my Aunt and I carried on a very quiet, but very intense affair. We only met once a month or so, usually when my uncle was away on business. I knew what I was doing was wrong, wrong, wrong. But when you've fantasized about a woman since you were a kid, a gorgeous, sexy, unattainable woman, and add to that the incest taboo that should have raised a red flag the size of a football field, well, it's hard to resist that siren call. Especially when she calls you on the phone and says, "Baby, I'm so wet for you right now."

It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving. "Are you? Are you indeed" I said, feigning indifference.

"Don just left, he's going deer hunting tomorrow and he's spending the night at a friend's cabin. I'm here all alone..."

Already my cock was plumping. "Well, I don't have any plans..."

"You do now, honey."

Twenty minutes later I was at Aunt Jess's house, kneeling on Aunt Jess's carpet, my head between Aunt Jess's legs. My tongue burrowed into her moist pussy, her hips grinding slowly as I licked and nibbled at her. I looked up and she was smiling at me, her long-nailed fingers stroking my hair, her brown nipples stiff with excitement.

"Are we going to enjoy our Christmas tradition again this year?" she asked.

"Mmm-hmm," I murmured as I closed my lips around her clitoris. Last year we'd re-enacted our first encounter, I dressed up like Santa and she pretended that she was a little girl who wanted to tell me what she wanted under the tree this year. Some pretty twisted stuff, I know, but when you're screwing your uncle's wife, well, it's all a bit twisted.

Aunt Jess closed her eyes, a dreamy smile on her face, and ground her pussy in my face. "I'll show you what a good little girl I've been."

My tongue flicked over her clitoris, and I paused long enough to say, "I thought you were a naughty girl."

"Maybe just a...a little bit," she moaned. I sucked on her button and licked her for all I was worth. Her magnificent breasts lolled heavily on her rib cage, and I reached up and gently caressed them as I brought my Aunt to orgasm with my tongue. She sighed, sighed again, and then her dark blue eyes opened and looked down at me with fearsome intensity. "Oh, baby, Timmy, baby..." Her eyes closed and she shook all over, her juggs jiggling deliciously in my hands. "Oh, baby!"

When her quivering hips slowed I rose from my task, wobbled on my knees until I was in position, and slowly fed my erection into her pussy. "I love how you're always so hard for me," she said through gritted teeth as I penetrated her. "I love how you're so...fucking...HARD!"

When my penis was buried inside her I shut my eyes and tried to find the strength to tell her that this time, THIS TIME, had to be the end of it. Eventually we had to get caught. And if we got caught...I didn't want to think about it. It would destroy my uncle, my parents...and of course it would be a nightmare for myself. But every time I mentioned the potential for disaster, Aunt Jess dismissed the possibility out of hand. "I don't want to stop fucking you, honey. Do you want to stop fucking me?"

"No..." I always said, because she usually asked the question when I was in the position I was now, sliding in and out of the tight, humid cavity between her legs. The sex was sooo good, it was so good that I was willing to take the risk, break the taboo, risk the wrath of the gods.

I slowly moved my hips, looking down at the stick moving in and out of her luscious body, and had to look away. I looked up and there was Aunt Jess staring at me, her dark eyes glowing with lust and mischief. "You dirty boy, fucking your Aunt."

"Please, don't say that," I panted, as I started thrusting faster.

"But it's true, you shouldn't be fucking me, I'm your Aunt, we're not supposed to be doing this," she teased. She loved playing the naughty girl, maybe that's where her Santa fetish came from, her desire to make up for her transgressions in the way she knew best. "You shouldn't be fucking me, honey."

"Aunt Jess, please." She still insisted that I call her AUNT Jess, not just her name, to both maintain the thrill of this illicit affair and to keep everyone else from suspecting a thing.

"You shouldn't be fucking me with that big, thick cock," she moaned, stroking my forearms with her long fingernails. "You shouldn't be pumping me like you are, slamming your cock in and out of my pussy...oh yeah, oh...you beautiful baby boy...fuck me...fuck your Aunt...that's the way I like it...oh, baby...baby..."

I thrust faster and faster, unable to control myself any longer. I was getting closer, so close, I was going to pump my semen into this forbidden womb, when suddenly Aunt Jess panted, "Don't come!"

"What?" I groaned. In a few seconds I wouldn't be in a position to fulfill her wishes.

"Don't come in me! I..." she closed her eyes and arched her hips as my cockhead scraped some sensitive place inside her, "I want to SUCK it out of your prick!"

"Oh," I said, sounding stupid. I pulled out, took a seat on the couch next to her, and she grabbed my cock and laid out on the couch, her head in my lap. She printed kissed all over my penis before she put me in her mouth and started sucking. Her warm saliva ran down my shaft as her silky lips glided up and down my cock, and when her fingernails started playing with the sensitive ridge of skin just under my balls I knew she was anxious for me to come.

So I did. "That's it Auntie, suck that cock, suck it!" I said, giving her the encouragement she was looking for. "Suck your nephew's cock!" I felt stupid talking that way, but when a woman can tie you into knots with her tongue, you indulge her.

She pulled her mouth away and tongued my purple cockhead. "Give Auntie your come, baby boy. Come on." Her mouth engulfed me, her fingers jacked me in rhythm with her sucking lips, and I capitulated. "Oh, Aunt Jess, please," I begged as I ejaculated, "we...we HAVE to stop doing this!"

She swallowed every sticky drop of my semen. I moaned and writhed as yet another incestuous orgasm coursed through my body. When I stopped trembling Aunt Jess released her hold on my penis and rested her head on my thigh. She looked up at me, her dark blue eyes so calm and kind. "Are you sure you want to stop fucking me?"

"No, I don't want to stop," I said. "But we have to. This is wrong, this is so wrong..."

"No one will find out, honey. And come on, this isn't technically incest."

"Sure, if my mom finds out about this, I'll get off on a technicality."

Aunt Jess laughed. "Well, at least you'll get off!" When she saw my expression she stopped laughing. "She won't find out. We're both very careful, and very discreet. Right?"

"Right," I had to agree.

"We're just having some fun, that's all. Hasn't this brought us closer together?"

"Jesus, it's brought us to the point where I'm INSIDE you half the time."

She laughed again. "You know what I mean. You love me more than any of you other Aunts, don't you? More than you're Aunt Wilhelmina, right?"

It was telling that Aunt Jess had picked on that particular aunt, and used her full name. I referred to the second wife of my Uncle Carl as Aunt Billie, the name she used. I guess if your given name was Wilhelmina you'd find a nickname too. My Aunt Billie and Aunt Jess had quite a bit in common, so much in common that it was perhaps understandable that they wouldn't get along. Both were second wives, both were very attractive, and...well, I guess that's all it takes for women to take a dislike to each other, although these two beautiful woman took every opportunity to snipe at the other. My Uncle Carl met Billie after my Uncle Don met Jess, but Carl and Billie got married first, stealing the Jess's thunder, as she wanted her wedding to be the family focus of attention that year. That got the feud off and running, and it had continued strong for the last eight years.

So I played it safe when I said, "I'm definitely closer to you than Aunt Billie."

"What a silly name. She sounds like a goat."

I might have played it safe, but I wasn't playing along. "I should be getting home," I said, ignoring that last jibe.

As I dressed Aunt Jess lit a post-coital cigarette and crossed her legs. "Of course you're playing Santa for our church group again this year?"

"Of course."

"I'm on the cleanup committee again. Well, I am the cleanup committee. So I'll be the last one out of the building. I'm thinking we can keep out tradition alive."

I swallowed hard. "You mean, right in the hall?"

She dragged on her cigarette and nodded. "Mmm-hmm. That's what I want for Christmas, honey. I want to show Santa what a good girl I've been."

"OK," I said, already excited. "But we have to be careful."

"We will be, honey. I promise."

*****

The next two days passed with little to comment upon. Work, traffic, shopping. I'm always late with my Christmas shopping, and this year was worse that usual. I don't have that much shopping to do, either. My Mom and Dad, my two older sisters, a niece and a nephew. And then there's the grab bag gift. Instead of buying every aunt, uncle, and cousin a gift, my dad throws everyone's name in a hat and assigns a person for you to get a gift for. It sort of slipped my mind that year, until my dad called me and said, "Don't you want to know who you got in the grab bag?"

"Oh, right. Who?" I hoped it would be Aunt Jess, as I already had her gift safely tucked away in my pants.

"Your Uncle Carl." I frowned. I didn't have a clue what to get him. But when my dad said, "And Aunt Billie got you," I actually winced.

"Any idea what Uncle Carl might like?" I asked.

"Nope, and I have no interested in finding out," Dad said. He's never taken a cotton to Mom's youngest brother, perhaps because he's a borderline nut. "Maybe you should ask Aunt Billie. And if you do, find out what she might like." He sounded morose. "I got her in the grab bag."

"Oh. You have any ideas?"

"Are you kidding? After what Carl got her last year?"

"Good point."

"Look, she already asked me what to get you, so you could drop some hints, give her some ideas. I told her to call you up and see if you wanted to go to lunch with her next week, she works downtown too. That should solve both your problems. And maybe solve mine too."

Lunch with Aunt Billie. Innocuous enough, unless Aunt Jess found out. Then it would hit the fan. Oh well, I'm getting good at clandestine Aunt meetings. I could keep this one under wraps too.

She called the next day, I heard that breathy voice said, "Hi, Timmy? This is Billie."

My hand gripped the phone just a bit too tight. "Hi, how are you?"

"Confused, like you. You talked to your dad? I have you in the grab bag, and I have no idea what to get you."

"Well, I could just tell you. I've actually had my eye on..."

"No, no. It's terrible that I only see you once or twice a year. An aunt should have a closer relationship than that with her nephew." I was glad she couldn't see the expression on my face. And when she said, "You mother says you see your Aunt Jess all the time, you and her go to dinner occasionally and you help out with her church group, and that makes me feel like I'm left out...are you OK?"

I tried to stop coughing. "Fine, I'm fine," I croaked. "You live further away, you're busy, don't feel bad about it."

"Well, I do. So why don't we meet for lunch tomorrow, just to talk. I have some ideas for what you can get Carl. He's a pain to shop for, so I won't give away my best ideas, but I think I can help you."

We made a date for noon the next day, and at the stroke of twelve I was standing in the foyer of a popular downtown eatery, so nervous my palms were sweating. Hey, no big deal, just lunch with my aunt. Piece of cake.

And then I saw her, and it was like the temperature in the room went up twenty degrees. Every man in the room turned to look at her, because she is well worth looking at. Aunt Billie is about 40, a tall, elegant woman with light blonde hair that curls up at her shoulders. Today she wore a bright red suit, in keeping with the holidays, and her skirt was just short enough that you wished it was an inch shorter. She saw me, smiled with her bright red lips, and gave me a little wave.

A wave I very nearly missed, because I wasn't looking at her hands, or her legs, or her eyes. I was staring at her breasts. I couldn't help it. It's not that Aunt Billie's tits are tremendously huge, although they are rather tremendous. What forced my attention to her bosom was the plain fact that, last Christmas, my Aunt Billie had undergone breast augmentation surgery, a gift from my Uncle Carl. That was the gift my father so morosely brought up when I talked to him. How exactly one asks one's wife to trade up from a 32B to a 34D without getting a frying pan to the chops I do not know. What I do know is that Aunt Billie's bosom was the big family scandal of the past year, and I as yet had not gazed upon her new and improved grillwork. And as she came up to me and gave me a hug, those magnificent mammaries demanded my attention.

"Am I late?" Aunt Billie said, checking her watch as I checked out her breasts. It was easy to do so because she wasn't wearing a brassiere. I could tell THAT because her suit had a rather deep décolletage and, well, I didn't see anything there but soft, creamy skin.

Aunt Billie said, "Timmy? Was I late?"

I tore my gaze from her breasts. "Oh, no, not at all." I winced, it sounded to my ears like I said, "No, not tit all." Thankfully she didn't pick up on it. I think.

"My goodness, look at you," she said. "You look so handsome, all dressed up." She reached up and gently tightened the knot of my tie. Her fingernails lightly scratched my cheek. "You could use a shave," she said with a smirk.

"I'm actually letting it grow for a few days, it makes wearing my Santa beard a little less itchy."

"Oh, that's right, from what your mother says you've practically BECOME Santa Claus." She reached out and tickled my belly with her long nails. "I think you need to put on some pounds to fill that suit." My cock gained five pounds just from the touch of her fingernails.

The hostess arrived and seated us. For the rest of our lunch we talked about Christmas, potential gifts for my Uncle (the best suggestion being a round of golf at a rather pricey local course) and, unfortunately, her breasts.

I just couldn't help it, I mean they were RIGHT THERE, two magnificent globes just peeking out from her suit jacket. Maybe five or six times I felt my attention drawn down to the dark canyon of her cleavage, my brain whispering, "Is that a nipple? Really, come on, I think I see nip!" My eyes couldn't help but obey.

The check arrived, and before she could move I snapped it up. "I've got tit..." I said, and I really SAID it this time, there was no hiding it. I quickly corrected myself, "...it, I've got it, the bill," but Aunt Billie was laughing.

"This whole time you've been looking at me with this INTENSITY on your face," she said, still giggling. "I mean, I could practically hear you thinking, 'Don't look down, don't look down...' "

My face felt like it was on fire. "I am SO sorry, I'm absolutely mortified, I can't tell you how sorry and mortified I am..." I stuttered.

"Honey, don't be embarrassed! If I didn't like the attention I never would have had my tits done. And I wouldn't dress the way I do." She smiled at me and touched my hand. "I would have been upset if you hadn't looked."

"But I'm not supposed to look, you're my Aunt...this is just a bad subject for us to be discussing."

She sighed. "Well, maybe you're right. I apologize. But I don't want you to apologize. It's my fault, not yours."

Her fault for having breasts that Michelangelo himself might have sculpted, my fault for being, well, male. I paid the check, she insisted on leaving the tip. "This was nice," she said. "We should do it more often."

"We should," I agreed. I don't know if I agreed because I enjoyed my Aunt's company or her breasts, but I don't think she was looking for my motivation. "Maybe after Christmas?"

"Maybe before. You really didn't give me any hints about what to get you. But maybe I can figure that out for myself," she said, and she gave me a good-bye kiss on the cheek. We left the restaurant, and as she turned to walk down the avenue to her office she said, "When do you play Santa for your mother's church group?"

"Um, this Friday."

"I think I'll stop in. I'd love to see you playing St. Nick. Is that OK?"

OK? Aunt Billie and Aunt Jess in the same room, and the latter expecting a ride on Santa's lap? "Sure, that would be great," I squeaked. I couldn't think of what else to say.

"I'll see you then, honey." She walked down the street and I watched her walk. I cursed my Uncle Carl and my Uncle Don. Why couldn't they have stayed married to their first wives? Even though I remembered my first set of Aunts as mean, vindictive, shrewish creatures, they at least didn't cause ME much turmoil. Unlike these two. I had a bad feeling that Friday night was not going to be a sleigh ride in the park.

*****

On that Thursday night I got home in such an evil mood about the whole Christmas season that Ebenezer Scrooge himself would have said, "Whoa, dude, chill out!" I'd done my first Santa gig of the year at a mall near my house, and the kids had been appalling. First of all, a baby pissed on me. Take it back-her parents set her on my lap KNOWING she was wet. Then all the other kids kept saying, "Ugh, Santa, did you pee your pants?" The smell wasn't too good either. And then some little brat tore into me because LAST year he told me he wanted a puppy, and I hadn't brought him a puppy, and HE WANTED TO KNOW IF I WAS LISTENING NOW, BECAUSE IF HE DIDN'T GET A PUPPY THIS YEAR HE WAS GOING TO BE REALLY, REALLY MAD!!!

I got home, threw the soiled suit in the washer, and grabbed three beers out of the fridge. "Damn capitalism," I muttered. "Takes a holiday celebrating love and goodwill and turns it into a shopping marathon. Everyone's going to hell..." I popped the top off my first beer, turned on ESPN, and collapsed on the couch, utterly fried.

I barely had two swigs down my gullet when the phone rang. I resisted the temptation to scream, "WHAT!?" into the receiver.

"Hello?" I chirped like a crazy person.

"I'm gonna suck your dick, Santa. I'm going to put your cock in my mouth until you promise to give me everything on my list. And then I'm going to sit on you like your own little ho, ho, ho."

"That sounds very, very nice," I said in my booming Santa-voice. "Will there be cookies and milk too?"

"You want cookies and milk?" Aunt Jess shrieked.

"Santa always get cookies and milk!" I thundered back.

"Well, this year Santa gets his dick sucked! Got a problem with that?"

"Hmm..." I rumbled, "I guess I get enough milk and cookies at the other houses..."

She laughed. "I bet you do." She lowered her voice, "Timmy, I'm really looking forward to tomorrow."

"Are you sure, totally SURE, that we'll be alone?"

"I'm positive, don't you worry. Everything will be fine."

"Good. Um, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?"

This was the part I dreaded. "Well, Aunt Billie will be there tomorrow too."

There was a pause. "Will she?" Aunt Jess said, her voice so chilly a skin of ice formed in my beer. "And how did she find out about it?"

I told about my lunch date with Aunt Billie, excising all the talk about her breasts. Not that it mattered. "What did her tits look like?" Aunt Jess asked.

"What?"

"Her tits, I know you know that she had her tits done. How did they look?"

"She's my Aunt, I didn't look at her breasts!"

"Timmy, I'm your Aunt, and you've licked my pussy, come in my mouth, and fucked my brains out. So don't get dainty on me."

I swallowed. "I don't know, I guess they looked OK."

"Not freakish?"

"No."

"I'll bet you got all riled up looking at her titties, didn't you?" she said, and she didn't sound happy.

I took the offensive. "I'll tell you this much-they weren't as nice as yours."

It worked. "Really?" she cooed.

It was a bit of a lie, but just a bit. Aunt Jess has big, round, heavy breasts, and if they sag just a bit, well, all that does is excite me even more. She has fucking fantabulous breasts. But Aunt Billie has PERFECT breasts, and even though I know that nature had less to do with it than modern plastic surgery, well, I'm not strong enough to object.

I spoke in my Santa voice. "I hope tomorrow when Santa kisses your beautiful breasts you won't think his beard tickles too much."

"I love the way your beard tickles my nipples," she said, her voice smoldering. "Tomorrow, Santa, I'm going to make you a very, very merry."

After we hung up I got out of my suit, laid on my bed, and started jacking off, just for something to do. I was troubled by the fact that, as my fist flew and my fantasies flashed before my eyes, that I was thinking about Aunt Billie as much as Aunt Jess. I was troubled enough that I stopped my hand. It was normal for me to be respond to Aunt Billie, but I had to get this under control. I had problems enough with Aunt Jess, and I didn't want this year's family scandal to be how Timmy couldn't stop staring at Billie's breasts. Even though that scandal was nothing compared to what other secrets might get out.

I threw the suit in the dryer, and when the buzzer sounded I got it out and tried it on, making double sure that it hadn't shrunk at all. It hadn't-it still looked as though the suit was tailor-made for me. Put on the beard and cap, and my own mother wouldn't know who it was behind the beard. As, indeed, my Aunt Jess had not known that it was her nephew she screwed that night two years before.

"Ho ho ho!" I said to my reflection. I sighed, and looked to the heavens. "Just get me through tomorrow, Lord," I prayed. "I promise, I'll repent, and do no wrong. I just need a little more time." I felt apprehensive as I stripped off the red suit. Gonna be a rough night tomorrow.Friday was Santa night for my mother's church group, and as I had the past two years I got dressed in a small anteroom tucked in a hallway behind the big main hall. There was a gentle knock at the door, and I heard my mother say, "Honey, are you dressed?"

I pulled on my red coat. "Yes."

The door opened, and it was Mom and Aunt Billie. "Oh my God, you look fantastic!" my aunt said.

"Wait till he puts on the beard," Mom said. I did, and Aunt Billie shook her head in amazement. "I mean, honey, I don't think you're fat at all, but all dressed up like that, you ARE Santa Claus!"

"Well, I do work out!," I said in my Santa voice, and she and my mother laughed out loud. They were still laughing when Aunt Jess came in. "I thought I heard Santa in here," she said.

"Jess, how nice to see you!" Billie said, and my Aunts hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. Mom excused herself to see when I should make my appearance. Leaving me in a tiny room with my two rivalrous Aunts. Goody.

"My God, you look wonderful," Aunt Jess said. "Your hair, you can't see any of the gray around the roots!"

"Thank you! And you look fantastic yourself. I'm glad to see you didn't put back on too much of the weight you lost last year."

"How nice of you to notice," Aunt Jess replied. "My goodness, look at those beauties," she said, admiring the exquisite globes jutting out from under Aunt Billie's tight white sweater. "A year ago you were flat as a board, and now, boing! Amazing what miracles technology can achieve these days!"

"Isn't it, though?" Aunt Billie said. "If you want, I can give you the name of the surgeon who operated on me. You might want to get yours done before they're sagging around your ankles!"

They both laughed cheerfully and I shut my eyes, waiting for the hissing and scratching to commence. But instead my mother came back in. "OK, Santa, you have a full house waiting for you!"

Thank God, I whispered under my breath. Both my Aunts gave me a little hug, and then it was showtime. I strode out the door and entered the hall with a stentorious, "HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

Recently in the news you've probably read about how 60% of all Americans are overweight, and that the percentage is even higher among children. Let me tell you, they didn't need a big study by the Journal of the American Medical Association to figure that out. Just ask a few poor bastards who play Santa Claus and we'll give you the straight dope. These goddam kids weigh more a barrel of nails. Time after time these moron parents picked up their kids, veins bulging from the strain, and plopped them in my lap as though I was some kind of indestructible Robo-Santa. This one kid, maybe six years old, I swear to God he weighed a hundred pounds. Mommy AND Daddy had to hoist him into position over my lap, and before I could shriek, "No, please, mercy!", they dropped him like a sack of potatoes. I squealed in agony as his fat ass crushed my pelvis.

"Are you OK, Santa?" he asked.

"Fine," I gasped. "Santa's just going to be urinating blood tonight."

"Oh," the oblivious tyke said, and launched into his laundry list of desired goodies. By the time he finished my color vision returned and I no longer felt like I was about to vomit. "This is the last year," I croaked to my mother. "If you ever want to be a grandmother, this is my last year."

"I am a grandmother, honey," Mom replied. "Remember your niece and nephew?" She skipped away so fast she didn't hear me say, "I hate those little bastards."

After an eternity, it was over. The squealing kids and their negligent parents filed out of the hall. Aunt Billie came up and gave me a hug, her big beauties flattening against my shoulder. "You were so good with those kids!"

"I h...hate them," I muttered. "H...hate th...them."

"No you don't, they're just a bit much all together like that." She leaned close and put her hand on my arm. "You look so fantastic in that suit."

"Thank you."

"Really, really wonderful. And it's so sweet of you to help your mother, and make all those kids happy."

She was stroking my arm. "It's no big deal," I said.

"Is it hot in this suit?" she said suddenly.

"Yeah, pretty hot," I said. I didn't add, "It's even hotter with you touching me and your tits right there for the grabbing."

She gently rubbed her finger over my brow. "You're sweating, that's why I ask."

I was hard as a rock inside my suit. She felt the heavy red fabric of my jacket and smiled. "You make a very handsome Santa."

I said thank you again, and tried not to quiver in my black boots. Aunt Billie withdrew her caressing fingers and said, "I was wondering, when you're finished, maybe you'd like to go out to dinner? Carl's at an office Christmas party, so I'm at loose ends tonight. It's my treat."

I tried to make my smile calm and relaxed. "I'd like to, but to be honest, after an hour in this suit I'm pretty sweaty and smelly."

"You could shower and change and meet me somewhere..."

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass tonight. I'm pretty beat up, and I'm pooped."

Aunt Billie smiled. "OK, honey, maybe after the holidays." My mother scooted past and Billie said, "I'll be sure to say goodbye before I leave."

Which, thankfully, was five minutes later. She trotted up, gave me a kiss on my whiskered cheek, and she said slyly, "I think I know what I'm going to get you for Christmas,"

"Hip replacement surgery?"

She wrinkled her nose and giggled. "Not quite, honey. Are you sure you'll pass on dinner?"

"I'm sure, sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, you've had a hard night. See you Christmas Day."

I wished her good night, and I watched her say goodbye to my mother, and then say something to Aunt Jess that had them both laughing like lunatics about to get violent. And then Aunt Billie went out the door, and I relaxed a bit. Five minutes later Mom left, and I relaxed a bit more.

Aunt Jess was supervising the cleanup effort, which mostly entailed straightening chairs and picking up the odd piece of wrapping paper. Across the room we made meaningful eye contact, and she blew me a kiss. I went into the anteroom, had a long drink of water, and ten minutes later, when the place sounded empty, I walked out into the big room and nervously called out, "Um, anyone here?"

"Just one naughty little girl." Aunt Jess walked out of the darkness. She'd already stripped down to a lacy red bra and matching panties, and her lipstick and nails were the same fire-engine color. I sat down in my chair and beckoned her with my velvet-gloved hands. "Come tell Santa what you want."

Aunt Jess did not crawl into my lap as I expected. She knelt before me and rubbed my erection through the heavy red trousers. "What did your Aunt Billie ask you before she left?"

"Huh?" I asked in my own voice. "Nothing."

Aunt Jess reached inside the fly of my trousers, did some manipulations of my underclothes, and withdrew most of my penis. She began slowly stroking my erection. "Nothing? I saw her talking to you for quite a bit, so it wasn't nothing."

I was so overexcited from my conversation with Aunt Billie that the fingers caressing me had me squirming. "She just said that it was nice I helped my Mom out."

"Was that all?"

"Yeah. She said I really looked like Santa."

Aunt Jess played with me a few seconds longer, and then she smiled up at me. "Yes, you really do look like him." And so the interrogation ended. I got back into character. "Of course I look like Santa!" I boomed. "I am the one and only!"

My aunt smiled as I played my part. "Do you know what I want for Christmas?" she asked in a little-girl voice?

"What's that, my dear?"

"My mouth full of Santa's come." She lowered her bright red lips to my penis. I felt the wet warmth encompass my helmet, and then she began sucking my cock with long, liquid strokes of her wonderful mouth. The fingernails of her left hand played with my testicles, the fingers of her right hand circled my shaft and began pumping me as she loved me with her mouth.

"I think Santa will be able to bring you that present, my dear," I groaned. I rested my gloved hands on the top of her head and caressed her short brown hair. "But I think I'll have to give it to you before Christmas Day."

"I think I want it right now, Santa," Aunt Jess said, and she started sucking me fast, pumping me fast, her fingernails busy with my balls, and my hips gyrated desperately as my gorgeous Aunt gave me head. The huge room was filled with the wet sounds of her mouth sucking my dick. "Santa," she cooed, "I want my present NOW! I want it NOW!"

"Uh...uh...I think..." her tongue swirled around the sensitive skin that crowned my cock and I REALLY started to sweat inside the suit. "I think...I'll give it to you now...AHHHH!!!" My Aunt's eyes rolled back in her head as my penis pumped semen into her greedy mouth. My balls twitched joyously as Aunt Jess's sucking lips and stroking fingers coaxed more and more come out of them. When she finished, she lifted her beautiful face and smiled with smeared lips. "Mmm...that was EXACTLY what I wanted."

"Is...is there anything else you want Santa to give you?" I panted.

"Actually, there is, but it might take a few minutes before you're ready to give it to me." She crawled into my lap and straddled me, my limp penis rubbing against her panties. "Doesn't Santa want to see what I wrapped up for him?"

"Santa wants that very much!" I reached up and twisted the clasp that held her brassiere. It isn't easy, unsnapping a bra while wearing thick red gloves, but I'm getting rather good at it. The lacy cups sprang open as I freed her heavy, straining breasts. They were magnificent, and I told her so. "I like this present very much!"

I leaned down and kissed the hard brown tip, kissed it a few times before opening my mouth and suckling it softly. "Santa, oh, oooh," Aunt Jess sighed. She toyed with my beard with her long fingernails as I licked and nibbled and sucked her big, stiff nipples. "Santa, baby, baby," she moaned. A hand reached between my legs and tickled my slowly expanding cock.

I moved to her other nipple and felt it also slowly firm and expand in my warm mouth. "Your beard feels so good on my breasts," she said. "I wonder if it would feel good...between my legs."

She stood up, slipped off her panties, and put her left foot on the seat next to my hip. I put her my hands on her waist, to steady her, and helped her stand on my chair. All I had to do was pull my head in just a wee bit and her pussy was right there for the tasting. Let me tell you, it's not easy to perform cunnilingus in that position with a full, fluffy beard. I really had to mash my face into her groin to allow my tongue access to her most sensitive parts, but fortunately the beard itself provided so much stimulation that Aunt Jess didn't seem to mind.

She exhaled loudly. "Oh! Oh, Santa, your beard feels so GOOD on my pussy...that's it, rub it all over me...shake you head from side to side as you do that...ohhh, Santa, baby, yes!" My tongue finally found the tight little nub of her clitoris and she laughed. "Oh, yeah. Ohhh, yeah. Lick it right there, lick it, rub your beard all over me, lick it, come on baby, come on Santa, I'm a naughty girl, show me how naughty you are...OH!"

My head was gyrating so wildly that I thought my red stocking cap would fall off. But Aunt Jess pulled it down tight over my ears just as she started to climax. "OH! OH! Santa, eat me, baby, yes!" She started to quiver all over and I reached up and caressed her big tits. "You're gonna make me COME, oh, baby, Santa, you're gonna make me COME!" She pulled the hat down even further, until it nearly covered my eyes. It started to hurt, but I couldn't really say anything, what with my tongue buried in the wet petals of her pussy and my beard muffling nearly all sound.

"Yes! Yes! Santa, oh, Santa, I'm...I'm..." And she let out a shriek so loud I thought for sure SOMEONE would hear us, but I was beyond caring about that, I just wanted my gorgeous Aunt to come so I could get her in my lap and start thrusting.

Come she did, Aunt Jess panted and moaned as my tongue and beard brought her to orgasm. Her fragrant juices flooded my face, and I realized that I'd have to wash the beard thoroughly before I played Santa again, or I might be asked some very embarrassing questions by the little kids. "What's that smell, Santa? Why does your beard smell like...like..." I didn't want to think about what they might come up with.

But that was about the last thinking I did for awhile, because Aunt Jess finally came down from her perch over my face and settled in my lap. I was hugely erect, and she tickled me with her fingernails. "I think Santa is ready for his next present."

"I think so too!" I boomed. Again I put my gloved hands on her hips and helped her rise the few inches she needed to fit my penis between her legs. She rubbed me over the moistness her orgasm left behind, and then she eased her hips down, and her wonderful pussy totally engulfed me.

"Ohh..." we said in unison. A huge smile spread across her face as the full length of my penis penetrated her. She put her arms around my neck and leaned in so close her nipples rubbed against my red coat. "Santa, doesn't it feel so good inside me?"

"Mmm, you feel as tight as a chimney after Santa eats too many cookies!" She laughed out loud, and I eased my hips back a few inches before sliding myself inside again. It felt wonderful, so wonderful I had to do it again. And again. Pretty soon Aunt Jess and I were slowly fucking, the chair groaning lightly under our combined weight.

I let my red velvet gloves roam all over her lush body, over her back, her buttocks, her stomach, her breasts. I returned her nipples to my mouth as I circled her waist with my arm and helped her bounce up and down my shank. "Oh Santa, oh Santa, Mrs. Claus must be a lucky woman."

"Mmm, she doesn't know how good she's got it. All she does is complain about the cold, about the elves, how I weigh too much..."

Aunt Jess moaned. "You just need to give her this more often, she'll forgive you everything."

She put her hands on my shoulders and I put my hands on her waist and we repeated the act we committed two years before. I drove my cock inside her faster and faster, her big tits jiggled as my hips crashed into her buttocks, and I couldn't take anymore. "Oh, you naughty little girl," I groaned.

"Am I naughty, Santa?"

"Oh, very, very naughty. But...uh...uh...Santa likes the naughty girls much more than the nice ones!" I started breathing faster and faster, my hips kept the pace, and Aunt Jess finished me by tickling my belly with her fingernails. That's all it took, the quiet rasping of her nails on my skin, and I bellowed, "M...M...Merry...CHRISTMAS!" as I came inside her warm pussy.

It took awhile for us to recover. I was tired from levering Aunt Jess up and down my cock, and she was exhausted from the excitement of once again living out this fantasy. She kissed me tenderly, on the lips, on each cheek, on my forehead. "That was the best ever," she said.

"It was," I agreed.

She climbed off of me and I saw the dark stain of our combined fluids staining my pants. "I think I'll be doing some laundry tonight," I rumbled.

She laughed as she hurriedly dressed. "I'm sorry, honey, we should get going. It wouldn't do for us to be here too long."

I was so glad to see Aunt Jess taking some precautions that I didn't mind that she was basically saying, "Wham, bam, thank you Santa". I grabbed my street clothes out of the anteroom and decided I would just drive home in costume. When I came back Aunt Jess was smoking a cigarette, blowing a contented stream of blue smoke to the ceiling.

"You're amazing," she said, and I wasn't sure if she meant ME, or Santa. Then she said, "You make all those toys, deliver them all over the world in one night, and yet you still know how to fuck like an animal."

"I'm a man of many skills," I boomed.

"Yes you are." She took my hand and led me out of the hall. It was snowing outside, the parking lot was already covered with a good half-inch. "You be careful going home," she said as I helped her into her car.

"You too," I said in my Santa voice. And then Aunt Jess leaned up and kissed my cheek. "You're something else, Timmy."

"So are you," I said. I shut her door and watched her pull away, her tires cutting dark trails through the pristine white of the lot. I walked to my own car, tossed my hat inside...and turned around. I walked back to where Aunt Jess had parked and pulled out. Her tracks were fresh, the pavement clear where her tires had been. But there were another set of tracks, not quite as clean, but I could as least SEE them.

Another car had pulled out of the lot in the last few minutes.

I followed them back to a parking spot near the door. There had been maybe 80, 90 cars parked in the lot at one time or another during the evening. Who had parked in this particular spot? I couldn't remember. Had the doors to the hall been locked? Yes...but when I tried the door to the church itself, it opened.

I got the shakes, and it wasn't because I was cold. Someone had probably been here while Aunt Jess and I were having wild, noisy, taboo sex. Now, they might have been upstairs in the church offices, or in one of the classrooms. Had they gone downstairs and heard us in the throes of ecstasy, wouldn't they have banged on the door and raised some ruckus? Of course they would have. And they wouldn't have been able to SEE who was in there, so if I was accused of some post-Santa hijinks I could always say that I'd been with some girl I know who wanted to do something crazy. I'd get in trouble, sure, but not the Greek-tragedy variety I feared.

I drove home feeling uneasy, but not that concerned. I was still tingling all over from the wonderful lovemaking I'd just enjoyed, and I tried to focus on that. When I got home I washed the suit for the second time in two days, adding the beard and cap this time, and made myself a nice glass of hot chocolate. The cocoa made me feel better all over. I felt sure no one had seen us, or heard us, or suspected a thing. I drank my cocoa, put up my feet, and relaxed.

I stayed relaxed until the next morning, when Aunt Jess called to tell me about the letter.Getting a panicky phone call at 9:30 in the morning is never a good thing, especially on a cold December morning when you just want to stay between the flannel sheets dreaming of bikinied superbabes. It's doubly bad when the frantic caller is your Aunt, when you're having an affair with your Aunt, and she's calling to tell you about the extortion letter she just found in her mailbox.

"I...I...I..." Aunt Jess sputtered.

"Slow down, are you OK?" I asked.

"No, I'm not OK!" she screamed. "I went out and got the mail this morning and found a letter addressed to me, and I opened it and the person who wrote it says they saw us fucking in the church hall last night!"

"Oh, ah, uhhhgh," I mumbled, reaching for the table to steady myself. "But...how could anyone have seen us?"

"I don't know!" she said, exasperated. "But the letter describes what we did, how I sucked your cock, how I stood on the chair while you ate my pussy...it describes everything we did!"

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?"

"This is the really fucked up part. The letter's written in crayon."

"Wait, crayon?"

"Red and purple crayon! It's fucking crazy, whoever sent it wrote it like it was a letter to Santa."

I rubbed my temples. "You should come over and let me look at it, maybe we should talk about what to do."

"You think?" she said sarcastically. "I'll be there in half an hour."

When she arrived she was not in the Christmas spirit. "Turn those fucking lights off!" she said as a greeting when she saw my tree all lit up. "Jesus Christ, this isn't the time for a fucking holiday cheer!"

"Calm down," I said, even though my stomach felt like it was full of eels. "Let me see the letter." She handed it to me, tucked inside the envelope it came in. I looked it over. My Aunt's name and address were printed on the envelope, but, "There's no stamp or postmark," I said. "Well, we know it wasn't mailed."

"I know THAT, Sherlock!" Aunt Jess yelled. "It wouldn't have gotten to me today if it had gone through the mail. Is that the limit of your deductive powers?"

She lit a nervous cigarette as I took out the letter and started to read. It gave me the major heebie-jeebies. It actually WAS written in crayon, and it was written in a deliberately childish scrawl, with letters "E" and "N" occasionally reversed and odd choices of capitalization. It went on for three pages. Here's what it said:

"Dear Santa!

I liked seeing you SO MUCH last night that I came back to give you a big hug and say thank you for bringing me toys every year! But the door was LOCKED! I started to cry because I thought you had gone back to the North Pole, but then I heard you inside yelling and I thought that maybe you were mad at one of your elves! So I looked through the KEYHOLE and I saw this very FAT and OLD elf kneeling down in front of you! I thought that was strange, you're supposed to SIT in Santa's lap, not just put your head there! And then I saw that this OLD and FAT elf was doing something, she was doing something to Santa's PRIVATES that looked very bad! It was so bad that Santa really started to yell and I thought he must be very mad at this ugly elf!

But then I saw Santa put HIS head in a strange place, and the UGLY elf started yelling too, and I got scared, because I thought she was angry at Santa, and nobody should be angry with Santa! And then I saw the elf sit in Santa's lap, and I watched Santa's PEE-PEE go between the FAT elf's legs, like it was magic. And then both Santa and the elf were YELLING and SCREAMING I almost had to cover my ears.

That's when I remembered what my mommy told me when I asked her where babies come from, and she said that the daddy puts his PEE-PEE inside the mommy's CAVE and makes a baby! But then I got REALLY confused, because when all the yelling stopped I saw that the elf wasn't an elf AT ALL. It was a lady from the church group! And then I remembered that this wasn't Santa at all, but a handsome boy who just PLAYS Santa! And then I got REALLY, REALLY confused, because the lady and the boy are aunt and nephew, and aunts and nephews aren't SUPPOSED to play like that! It's very, very NAUGHTY. And I knew that if the boy's mommy found out, it would be VERY BAD for them! They would get in TROUBLE!

So, I guess I know a SECRET! A bad, naughty secret! And I wonder how important it is to both of you to make sure it STAYS a secret! So, I want Santa to send me an e-mail, telling me he saw this note, and I'll tell you what I want to make sure I don't tell his MOMMY on him!"

It was signed, "A good little girl."

I looked up at Aunt Jess, puffing at her cigarette. "The fucker calls me fat, old, and ugly. When I find out who it is I'm going to rip her face off."

"OK...OK..." I said, not feeling OK. "Who would know where you live?" I asked.

"Everyone who goes to church there! My name and address was on the latest newsletter that went out. Anyone there last night might have known."

"Anyone...dislike you?"

She drew on her cigarette and exhaled. "I don't know, it's a church group, not a Mafia family. I'm not friends with everyone there, but I don't think anyone has cause to blackmail me."

"Well, it actually looks like they're blackmailing me," I said. "The writer tells ME to e-mail her, threatens to tell my mother."

"So who would want to screw you?" Aunt Jess asked. "Maybe the mother of some little brat who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas last year?"

"I kinda doubt that."

She stubbed out her cigarette. "There's the e-mail address on the back of the letter. It's one of those free e-mail accounts, I have no idea what the username means, if anything.

I flipped the letter over and read the e-mail address, "sweetnessD@mail.com". I considered it. sweetnessD? "I don't know either. Sweetness, I don't know. She's a good little girl, she's sweet. Maybe the "D" is her initial?"

Aunt Jess pulled out another cigarette. "I don't know. But..." she looked like she might burst into tears, "this can't get out! I'll end up divorced, I'll lose everything, Don will take me to the cleaners, I mean, fucking my own nephew, I..."

"Don't you worry, I'll take care of it. Whoever it is, I'll reason with them. And think about it, it would only be our word against the word of this lying bitch. If we stay united on this, we might be OK."

"Maybe." She looked at the unlit cigarette between her fingers and put it back in her pack. "Send a note to that e-mail address, and then let me know what you hear."

I promised her I would, and I gave her a big hug. "Everything will be fine, I promise." I walked her to her car, waved goodbye, went inside, and threw up in my toilet.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" I screeched. "I...I mean...what the fuck! What the fucking fuck! What am I going to do! I'll be disowned! I'll be cast out of the family, I'll be exiled! I'll have my eyes gouged out and my entrails fed to the pigs! All I wanted was a little sexy auntie nookie! Should I be DESTROYED just for that!"

When I got it all out of my system I sat down, cried a bit, and went to the computer. I launched my e-mail program and typed in the blackmailer's address. I wrote, "Dear Good Little Girl, I got your note, and Santa is very angry with you. You might get coal in your stocking this year unless you stop telling lies. Write back and tell me that you are very sorry for making Santa upset."

I sent it and wondered how long it would take before I got a reply. Turns out it was four minutes. My computer went "ding!" and I saw the new message in my box. I opened it and read. "Dear Santa, Thank you so much for writing back! But I'm disappointed that you say I'm lying, when you know I'm not. I saw everything you and that bad lady did. I saw the dark birthmark she has on her big backside, and I saw how big your pee-pee is! It looked so pretty that I'm sure I could describe it IN DETAIL to your mommy if she didn't believe what I told her! Write back if you still don't want me to tattle on you!"

Gulp and double gulp. I wrote, "Don't you know that it's not very nice to tattle? Especially on Santa Claus?"

The reply: "It's OK to tattle if the tattletale gets something out of it. And there's something I want from Santa in exchange."

With trembling fingers, I wrote, "Then what exactly do you want Santa to give you?"

The answer came almost instantly. "I want Santa to give me a nice, hard FUCK. Just like I saw you give your fat, old, ugly aunt."

Oh boy. Ohboyohboyohboy. I wrote, "If you promise not to tell, maybe Santa will give you what you want. But I need to know who you are, so we can meet and talk."

Ding! "Santa, you must think I'm a very silly girl! I'm not going to give you my name, and I don't want to talk to you! I want to fuck you! Tonight, at seven sharp, go to the Comfort Inn on Route 8 and go to Room 307. Just walk in, the door will be open. I'll be waiting for you. You'd better be alone, Santa baby, or else the deal is off, and your mommy will know how dirty you've been.

"Oh, another thing. Wear your suit."

I wrote back asking for more information, for directions, for mercy, but the conversation was over. My in-box remained empty. I got off the Internet and picked up the phone to call Aunt Jess. And then I put the phone down. If I called her and told her what the plans were, I knew she would crash the hotel room, she wouldn't be able to just sit at home while her stupid nephew tried to save her bacon. She'd fuck things up. So I had to keep her in the dark, for a little bit.

I dialed her number. "Yes?" she said, breathless.

"I sent the e-mail, and she wants to meet me at the Holiday Inn on Route 8 on Monday. She told me to wear my suit. I think she wants, um, she wants to do what we did."

"Oh, God," Aunt Jess said. "This is a nightmare."

"Did any of the women there ever talk about me, how handsome I am, how incredibly sexy I looked in my suit?"

"No, of course not," Aunt Jess said, a bit uncharitably I thought, but she was under strain. "I can't think of who it could be."

"Me either. I guess we'll just have to wait."

She took a deep breath. "I guess so. If you hear anything, let me know."

I promised I would. I hung up, flopped on the couch, and started to think. Would I actually go through with this? Of course I would, I had no choice. Would I have sex with a blackmailer? Yes. Even if she was hideously ugly? Yes. I ran through a mental catalog of the women who had been at the church hall the night before and didn't remember any really scary-looking specimens, but I couldn't be sure. Then a really scary thought hit me-what if the blackmailer WAS a little girl? Not six years old, maybe, but what if some 11-year-old who knew enough about sex to know THAT was what Aunt Jess and I were doing behind locked doors was behind all this? I discounted that. How could she reserve a hotel room, let alone GET there? Nah.

Who could it be, who could it be. I thought about the e-mail address. SweetnessD. Sweetness, with a "D". Why the word sweetness? Why not sweety, or sweet, or any other derivative of the word? I racked my brain. Sweetness. Sweetness. I repeated the word over and over until it lost all meaning, until it sounded like gibberish inside my head.

And then it hit me. It was an image, not a thought. An image of a man running, running with a ball under his arm. The man was wearing a football helmet with the letter "C" on the side. He was a Chicago Bear. Walter Payton. I jerked up off the sofa. Walter Payton, Hall-of-Fame running back.

Whose nickname, it just so happened, was "Sweetness".

Could that be it? Could the blackmailer really be so stupid as to give me a clue like that? I tried to remember if any of the women in my mother's circle had the last name Payton, or even Walter. I couldn't think of any, but I knew someone who did.

"Oh, hi, honey," Mom said, "How are..."

"Quick question," I interrupted. "Do you know if anyone there last night has the last name Payton?"

"Payton? Um, no, I don't know anyone by that name in the whole parish, but I could be wrong."

"No one there last night was named Payton?"

"No. Why..."

"How about Walter? The last name, Walter?"

"No, I don't think so, at least I don't know anyone by that name. Why do you ask?"

"One of the parents asked me if I played Santa for kids' Christmas parties, and I said not really but I'd consider it, and he said he'd come back after we were done, but I didn't see him and it was so noisy I wasn't sure of his name."

"You couldn't tell if he said Payton or Walter?"

"It was noisy."

It took me another minute to get Mom off the phone. I was back to square one, my brilliant detective work for naught. "Walter Payton," I sneered. "Fucking idiot." I was referring to myself, not the late, great running back. I always liked Walter Payton, in my opinion he was the greatest running back in history. He played most of his career on lousy teams, but year after year you'd see number 34 slashing through the line, bowling over linebackers, sprinting toward the end zone.

Number 34. I perked up again. Number 34. Could that have any significance? I didn't see any. The kids coming to sit on my lap didn't take a number. It didn't seem to make sense that 34 would correspond to the blackmailer's address or phone number or whatever. Another dead end.

Until...until I remembered that "Sweetness" wasn't the whole address. There was a D at the end. I thought about it...thought about it...thought about it...

The number 34. The letter D. 34D.

I remembered the night before, Aunt Jess and Aunt Billie taking turns insulting each other as I got into my Santa suit, "A year ago you were flat as a board, and now, boing! Amazing what miracles technology can achieve these days!" I remembered my mortification as Aunt Billie caught me staring at her new-and-much-improved breasts. I remembered the sniping of my family members as they gossiped about Aunt Billie's augmentation surgery, how she went from a 32B to a 34D.

"Aw, come on," I said aloud. "That's fucking bullshit. OK, fine, she's proud of her new breasts. She should be, they're incredible. But, come fucking on! This is ludicrous!"

Then I thought about Aunt Billie a bit more. What was her favorite sport? Football, she was a fanatic. And where was Aunt Billie born and raised? Chicago, she was transferred the year before she met Uncle Carl. And wasn't she the kind of goofball showoff who would do something as crazy as hide her new cup size in her e-mail address?

And, I wondered, was she the kind of sexpot who would get a thrill out of fucking her nephew?

I had to table my answer to that final question. I was hardly an impartial judge. It seemed beyond belief that two sexy, gorgeous women, women who happened to be related to me by marriage, would want to have sex with ME. I'm good-looking, really, but I'm not SO good-looking that I should be seducing my kinswomen. OK, Aunt Jess wanted to screw me because of her Santa fetish. So why would Aunt Billie want to screw me?

Because Aunt Jess had. And, as they both had shown so many times, my two Aunts were very, VERY competitive. So competitive that Aunt Billie would want to fuck me just because Aunt Jess had? Well, maybe not. But enough that she would want to rake Aunt Jess over the coals with fears of blackmail, exposure, divorce, and ruin?

I could see it.

I paused to think. One minute in I shouted at my penis, "Will you knock it off!" I was HUGELY erect. The thought of having sex with my OTHER hot, sexy aunt was almost too much to believe. Well, there was one way to test the hypothesis.

I got my address book and dialed a number. Three rings later a breathy voice said, "Hello?"

"Hi, Aunt Billie? It's Tim."

"Hi, honey, how are you?" Perfectly normal, a bit surprised to hear from me, but just a bit.

"I'm fine. Just wanted to make sure you got home OK last night."

"Oh, no trouble. I made it home before the snow really started coming down. Did you make it OK?"

"A few slips, nothing major. Hey, I wanted to apologize for not taking you up on dinner last night, it's not THAT tiring playing Santa."

"Don't worry about it, honey. I had a headache just from being in the same room as all those kids."

"Thanks. I was wondering if you'd want to go somewhere tonight? Seems like all my buddies have their office Christmas parties tonight, and I know Uncle Carl has his poker night on Saturday, so I thought you might be free."

She didn't miss a beat. "Oh, honey, I'd love to, but I have tickets for the hockey game tonight. I'm going with some girls from the neighborhood."

"Oh, that's OK," I said. She'd caught me off guard. Trying not to sound suspicious, I asked, "Who are they playing tonight?"

"The Rangers. We have good seats, B section."

"Oh." I'd meant to call Aunt Billie and shock her, but now I was the one unsure of my footing. "Well, no biggie. Maybe next week."

"I hope so, honey. I'm still not sure what to get you..."

"Last night you said you had a good idea."

"Oh, I do, and it's something I'm sure you'd like. But...I'm just not sure if I should get it for you."

Now I was intrigued. "What is it?"

She laughed. "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, now would it? You'll have to wait and see. Have a good day, honey."

"You too." I hung up more confused and more aroused than ever. It was just past noon. Seven hours until my date with...whomever.

*****

In literature, when brave, innocent are walking to the gallows, mere seconds from martyrdom, they always hold their head up high, their gaze is steady, their whole demeanor personifying the noblest ideals of mankind-courage, conviction, calm in the face of adversity.

Well, either those writers made it all up, or maybe it's impossible to keep your dignity when heading to your doom dressed up as Santa Claus. Because I was a crying, twitching, whimpering wreck.

I pulled into the parking lot of the Comfort Inn already suited up. All I had to do was put on my beard and cap, and that at least hid my quivering lower lip. I had absolutely no idea what I was heading into. I had twelve Tums in my belly and still my guts burned like hellfire. I didn't know whether I was hoping to find Aunt Billie in room 307, or if I FEARED finding Aunt Billie there. Time to end the suspense.

I walked through the lobby, which, damn it all, was jam packed. "It's Santa!" a dozen voices young and old called out, and I fucking had to go into my spiel. "HO HO HO! Merry Christmas everyone!" I shouted with as much merriment as I could muster. One adorable little girl tried to follow me down the hall to the elevator, and had her mother not flagged her down I would have tossed the tyke in the trash can. I was not in the mood.

The elevator elevated me to the proper altitude and I got out and walked the frighteningly short distance to room 307. The blackmailer told me not to knock, to just come on in, but that sounded silly. I tapped three times, loud enough for someone to hear. "Um, hello?" I called out, and for some reason I used my Santa voice. It seemed appropriate.

I walked into the room and had a look around. It was your typical hotel room-bed, nightstand, dresser with the TV on top. But there were dozens of candles on the dresser, big white candles that threw bright flickering light over the walls and bed. I could see that the bathroom door was on, and I saw light coming from beneath. I was about to call out again when I noticed the glass and plate sitting on the nightstand. A tall glass filled with milk, and three chocolate chip cookies.

There was a note next to the plate, written in red crayon. "Have a little snack, Santa."

I sat down on the bed shaking my head. I sighed and dipped one of the cookies in the milk and took a bite. When you're in cuckoo-land, you do what the cuckoos say. I had to admit, the cookies were excellent, chewy and moist, and the milk did more to settle my roiling stomach that all those antacids. I was just polishing off the last cookie when I heard the bathroom door open. Sitting where I was I couldn't see the bathroom, so I had to wait for my tormenter to make her appearance. I waited, waited, waited...

In the candlelight I almost couldn't make her out. "Hi, Santa," she said. "I hope you aren't too mad at me."

She stepped closer, and I could see that she was wearing a bright red teddy with a white fur fringe. Her blonde hair spilled out from under a bright red stocking cap just like the one I wore. She came closer, closer, until I could see her lips and nails were painted the same bright red color. She sat down, and I could just smell her rich, spicy perfume. My Aunt Billie put her hand on my leg and her nails stroked my thigh. "Are you mad at me, Santa?"

Of course I played along. "Yes I am, my dear, a little bit. Don't you know that it's not polite to snoop?"

She smiled and I could see her teeth. "Well, Santa, with all the noise you were making you can't really say I was snooping."

Her incredible breasts filled the fur-lined cups of her teddy to overflowing. She looked so incredibly sexy I thought I might faint. "Well then, what do you want Santa to do? To, um, to..."

"To keep all the elves at the North Pole from finding out what you did?"

"Ah, yes."

Aunt Billie smiled. "I already told you what I want, Santa." Her hand moved up to my groin, where my throbbing erection was embarrassingly obvious. "I want to thank you for all the wonderful gifts you've given me over the years. And I think you'll enjoy how I plan on thanking you."

She was rubbing the head of my cock through the woolen trousers. I put my gloved hand on her shoulder and caressed her smooth skin. "You've always been a good little girl, that's why you got such nice presents."

"Well, I plan on being naughty in the future, so let's just say I want to build up some credit." She stood up and beckoned me to do the same. "I'm sure it's very hot wearing that suit, Santa. Why don't you take it off?" Aunt Billie walked to the foot of the bed and sat down. "Take it all off."

I reluctantly obeyed, stripping off my jacket, shirt, boots, pants, and underwear. "Leave the cap on," Aunt Billie said. "I like the cap." I also, of course, kept the beard on. When I was naked, my pole pointing north, Aunt Billie came up to me and put her arms around my neck. She pulled me down and kissed me on the mouth, her tongue teasing my lips before gently probing my mouth. I nearly fainted, but she leaned her body into mine, her breasts bumping into my chest, my cock rubbing against the satiny material of her teddy, and that gave me the strength I needed.

She leaned back and smile. "She was right, the beard does tickle. But it's so soft it feels good." Then she reached down between my legs and fondled my erection. "That feels good too, but it isn't soft."

"No, it's not," I groaned. Aunt Billie gently tugged at my shaft while the fingers of her other hand slid lower, to caress my testicles. "You're so big and strong, Santa. I always thought you were supposed to be fat."

"It's the suit," I gasped. "It puts thirty pounds on you."

She laughed. Her hands left my groin and roamed all over my body. She took delight in how I squirmed with delight as her fingernails played with my ribs, my abdomen, my biceps, my buttocks. "You like that, don't you Santa?" she teased. "You like feeling my nails tickling you."

"Yes," I groaned. She moved behind me, until all I could see were her fingers, tipped with those glittering red nails, caressing my stomach and thighs. At first she didn't touch my cock, she just kept touching me all over, and I felt her lips plant soft kisses on my back and shoulders. I was thrusting into the air, my cock hard as stone, desperate for her soft touch, but when she finally did wrap her fingers around my shaft the sensation was so exquisite I let out a long moan. "The cookies and milk were nice, but this is even, uhh, even better!"

She started jacking me off, her soft blonde hair on my back. "Why don't you lie down, Santa? You're going to be working so hard on Christmas Day. Let me some of the work tonight."

I obeyed her wishes, and when I lay down Aunt Billie went to the dresser and pulled out a small bottle and a towel. My cock twitched as she crawled between my open legs. "You like feeling me touch you, Santa?" she cooed.

"Yes, Santa liked that very much!" I boomed as I watched her pour a clear, viscous liquid into her palm.

"Then tell me how much you like this." She had a playful, naughty smile on her sexy face as she wrapped her lubricated fingers around my cock and oiled me. She covered me from tip to balls with lube and then she used one hand to pump me and the other to tickle my cockhead with her long red nails.

"Uhhh!" I groaned, my hips thrusting like mad. "Uhhh...ohhhh...OHHHH!"

She giggled, her big tits jiggling in time with her quick stroking. "I think Santa likes this."

"Ohhhh, Santa likes this very much!"

"Really?" she said as if amazed.

"REALLY!" I was going to explode. I looked between my legs to see my sexy Aunt Billie giving me a sloppy handjob, her huge breasts mere inches from spilling out of her teddy, and I started to sigh and groan like a sick calf. "Oh, oh, oh, you are a very good girl, you're going to get lots of presents this year!"

"Am I?" she giggled. "Do you know what I got for Christmas last year?"

"Of course I do! I'm Santa, I know what everyone gets!"

"So what did I get last year?"

I was going to pop in about ten seconds. "You got those beautiful, firm, round, eye-popping breasts that are turning Santa on so much he's going to come right now!"

"Oh, Santa, are you sure you want to come?" she said.

She hadn't stopped jacking me off, so whether I wanted to come or not seemed a moot point. "Yes, I want to come!"

"You want me to keep stroking you until you come?"

"Yes!"

"You want me to keep playing with you with my long, sharp fingernails?"

"YES!"

"OK," she sighed, "I'll make you come, but I thought, well, maybe you'd like to come by...putting your cock between my tits."

That was maybe the only combination of words in the English language that could've gotten through to me. "What?!"

"Don't you want me to stuff your cock in my cleavage, and then have you fuck my tits until you come all over me? Don't you want me to do that?"

They say there are no stupid questions, but if that isn't one I don't know what question IS stupid. "Yes, please, PLEASE!" Aunt Billie laughed and sat up. She crawled to the foot of the bed and said, "Toss me the pillows, and sit here on the edge." I obeyed, and after Billie stacked them at my feet she slipped the thin straps off her shoulder and shimmeyed out of the teddy.

Her body was absolutely magnificent. Her breasts were huge, but they didn't stick out light she had light bulbs under the skin. They still sat heavily on her chest, giving them a delightful bounce when she knelt between my legs and seized my cock. She poured more lubricant on my cock, and into her cleavage, and then she took my hands on put them on her incredible tits.

"Rub them, Santa baby. Make it all nice and wet and slippery in there." I put my hands on those incredible orbs slowly rotated them against each other, the lubricant making quiet squishy sounds as I caressed and fondled her boobs. I nearly blew my load just touching them.

And then Aunt Billie said, "Aren't they nice, Santa?"

"Yes, they're very, very nice."

"Put your cock between them, Santa. Go ahead. Put it in there..."

I stuffed my sausage in her cleavage and she put her hands on her tits and encased my cock in her bosom. She started moving her shoulders up and down, back and forth, and my cock was caught in a soft, cushy vortex. I started humping with my hips because if I didn't start thrusting I would go insane.

"That's it, Santa, fuck my tits," Aunt Billie said, her eyes locked on mine. Her fingernails formed a mesh over her cleavage, trapping my penis between them, and as I pumped and she jiggled I about went insane with pleasure. "Don't those tits feel GOOD around your big cock, Santa? Doesn't it feel good sliding your dick in and out of my cleavage?" I put my hand on her shoulder for extra leverage and stabbed her over and over with my cock. "Isn't that what you wanted to do the second you saw me? Did you want to fuck my boobs, put your dick in there and fuck them, in and out, have me rub my tits all over your dick..."

"ARRRRGGHHH," I roared as the tip of my penis split and a fountain of semen sprayed forth. My cockhead was caught in the depth of her bottomless cleavage and suddenly white cream spurted from between her tits like some kind of pastry. My hot spunk made it even more slick in there and I kept thrusting and moaning for nearly a minute, until she at last eased her breasts apart and showed me the thick soup made of lube, sweat, and come that our exertions had created.

"Oh, ho, ho, ho," I groaned.

"Did you like that, Santa?" Aunt Billie giggled. She was grinning from ear to ear. "Wasn't that the best thing you've ever done with a woman?"

"Uh-huh." I was nearly catatonic.

"Better than anything you did with that ugly old elf I saw you with?"

I roused a bit. "Now, that's not very nice. You should call other people names."

Her bottom lip curled in a contrite pout. "You're right, Santa. I'm sorry."

I flopped back on the bed. "That's a good little girl."

"I'll be right back, Santa." Aunt Billie walked to the bathroom and I heard water running, no doubt she was washing off the effluvia I'd left all over her.. My breathing was almost back to normal when she returned carrying a damp towel. I watched her magnificent breasts sway back and forth with every step, back and forth, and when she sat back on the bed they gave a sprightly little bounce. By the time she started dabbing away at my sodden groin I was already half-erect.

I reached down and fondled her breasts, and my penis leapt back into life. "Mmm, Santa, you've got some nerve calling ME naughty." She stroked my cock until I was hard as bone, and I satisfied my need to touch and caress her breasts. We were lying next to each other, my hands on her boobs, her hands in my groin, both of us getting hotter and hotter. Aunt Billie's nipples grew to tight, rosy tips under my fingers, and my dick began to trouble me with its incessant throbbing. I wanted to fuck. The fact that the woman I wanted to fuck was my aunt, an aunt who was blackmailing me, worried me not in the least. That could come later.

I let my hand drift, drift down her body, pausing a moment to play with her belly button, before I introduced them to her pussy. She was very wet, very excited, and as my fingers sought out her clitoris Aunt Billie closed her eyes and a dreamy smile came over her face. "Ooh, Santa," she sighed as I started diddling her clit. Her hips began undulating as I played with her, and her stroking of my penis became a bit sporadic.

"Do you know what Santa likes to eat more than milk and cookies?" I boomed.

"What's that?" she murmured.

I put my lips next to her ear, my beard tickling her shoulder. "Pussy," I whispered.

Her smile grew as she spread her legs wide and gave me room to crawl down to the foot of the bed. "I think you'll find that my beard is good for more than keeping my chin warm," I chuckled merrily.

I gently nestled my face in her groin and let my soft beard rub against her mound. She lifted her legs and grabbed her ankles, spreading herself as wide as possible. "I'm a naughty little girl, Santa. I've seen what you do to naughty girls."

I extended my tongue and gave her a long lick from her opening up to her clitoris. Then I did it again, and again, savoring that thrilling taste a man enjoys when he's succeeded in exciting his partner. As I surrounded her clitoris with my lips and started gently sucking I tried to forget that my partner was my aunt, and that what I was doing was a near-abomination. It wasn't easy to forget that, but when I looked up and saw Aunt Billie, mouth open, tongue gently running along her upper lip, her huge breasts like two fluffy mounds of meringue, a temporary amnesia seized hold of me. I had to have her, the lizard part of my brain took control and I heard a chorus chanting, "Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her!"

"Santa, baby, your beard feels so good on my thighs," Aunt Billie moaned. She released her ankles and cupped her breasts in her hands, strumming her nipples with her thumbnails. I raised my chin and tickled her clit with my beard and Aunt Billie laughed. "I like your beard, Santa-but I love your tongue."

I had to pick a few white hairs from her pussy before I resumed giving her pleasure with my tongue. When I did, when I again had her clitoris trapped inside my mouth and my tongue moved in tightening circles around that so-sensitive spot, it didn't take Aunt Billie long to climax. "Oh Santa," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper, "I think I know what you do on those long winter nights at the North Pole. You eat Mrs. Claus' pussy. Don't you, don't you, Santa?" She was nearly shouting now. "Come on, Santa, eat me like I was the missus. Do me with your tongue like you did your fat, ugly aunt!" Her body shuddered from head to toe and she started shrieking. "Oh, oh, ohhh, Santa...yes, right there, with your tongue, that's what I want for Christmas, your tongue in my pussy! Give it to me, Santa, give it to me right now!!"

Her orgasm was so intense that her hips floated off the bed and I lifted her high and burrowed my face deep in her pussy. For a second, just a second, I saw her teeth come together and her tongue pushing against them, ready to scream out, "Timmy!", but somehow she caught herself and just let out a long, drawn out, "Uhhhhh!!!" Her eyes were squeezed shut, a huge smile on her face, and when she finally stopped thrashing about I still had my hands cupped under her buttocks, holding her mound to my lips. Her eyes opened, she looked down at me, at the bearded man hunched between her legs.

"I'm going to say something I've always wanted to say," she said, and she made me wait a few seconds. She winked at me. "Fuck me, Santa Claus."

I let her ass bounce on the mattress as I crawled on all fours and mounted her. "Come on, Santa, stick your dick in me!" she teased me. She reached between my legs, grabbed my erection, and aimed it at her hole. "Come on, I want to feel that big candy cane between my...ahhh!"

"OHHH!" I moaned as I slipped inside her vagina. This was madness, the best possible kind. I was having sex with my sexy, slutty aunt, and it was ecstasy on such a scale that Hell itself held no terror. To feel the slick walls of her pussy caress my shaft, to feel the tight inner lips of her vagina part as the bulbous head of my penis pushed inside her...it was madness.

Aunt Billie wrapped her legs around my waist and forced me to a faster pace than I wanted. I wanted this to go on and on, I wanted to be patient so I would not blow my load before I fully enjoyed this incredible woman. But she wanted me hard and fast, and once I settled into her rhythm I couldn't slow down.

"Come, Santa, come in me," Aunt Billie panted. "You have to fly all over the world in one night, you can't waste all night screwing me."

"I...uh...I wouldn't call this wasting time, my dear." She gripped my biceps with her fingers and really spurred me on with her long legs. "Remember, Santa can get a lot of work done in one night."

"Oh, he has already!" Aunt Billie said. She bit her lower lip as our thrashing bodies made the bed groan and creak. "And now Santa is going to come in me. Aren't you, Santa? You're gonna come in me, you're cock is going to fucking SOAK my insides."

"Santa is going to come very soon," I groaned.

Aunt Billie laughed. "I've heard about Santa coming to your town, but Santa coming in your pussy?" I didn't think it was that funny, because I was about indeed about to come and I didn't want to. I wanted to fuck my aunt all night long, and that wasn't going to happen. "Come in me, Santa!" Aunt Billie said, her eyes taunting me. "I know you want to, even with the beard I can see it on your face."

I leaned all my weight on her and started pounding her, pounding her, slamming my pelvis into her with more and more violence, until it seemed my piledriver thrusting would snap the spine of the bed. Aunt Billie's tits bounced crazily as I fucked her with every ounce of strength I had left, and seeing those luscious juggs jiggling all over the place broke my will.

"Santa!" she moaned, "Santa, fuck me!"

"Uh...uh...UHHHHH!" A voice inside me screamed, "Faster, faster, faster!" Somehow I found the energy to keep going for five more seconds, and that's all it took for me for come. "HO...HO...HO!" I bellowed as my cock detonated in her wet cavity. "Ohh...hohoho...hohoho...ho...ho...ho." I poured so much some into her pussy it leaked out all over the sheets.

I buried my face in the pillow over her shoulder. Both of us were breathing as fast as hummingbirds. Aunt Billie unlocked her legs and freed my hips, and I rolled off and lay next to her. She snuggled against me, resting her head on my shoulder, her fingers fondling my beard.

"That was one of the best fucks I've ever had in my life," Aunt Billie said, and then slowly, very slowly, she pulled the beard off of my face. She tossed it on the floor with the rest of my suit and kissed me on my bare cheek. "That's was incredible...Timmy."

"Yes, it was," I agreed. I was either going to cry or throw up. She was looking up at me and I couldn't meet her gaze.

"That was very special," she said.

"Yes."

"Do you know what made it so special?"

"No," I said.

"Yes, you do."

What did she want me to say? "Because it was incest?" I said savagely.

She gently stroked my cheek. "Maybe, in part."

"Then what else?"

"Because we like each other," she said, "because we both like making each other feel good. And...because we're never going to do this again."

"What?" I said, both relieved and dismayed. "I thought..."

"You thought I wanted to keep you as my boy toy like Jess does? Tempting as that might be, no, I don't think that would be a good idea." She turned my face to meet her eyes. "It would kill your mother if she found out what you and Jess were doing."

"What about you and me?"

She smiled. "I won't tell if you won't. And since this will be the only time, I don't think she'll find out. And she'll never find out about you and Jess if you stop sleeping with her. And you're not going to sleep with her anymore."

"I'm not?" I said. "If you rat me out, I'll tell my mom about this little episode, and you'll be in the same boat as me and Aunt Jess."

She smiled. "Timmy, of course I'm not going to tell on you. But Jess doesn't know that. And if you tell her that I made that threat, she'll have to end the affair."

"And what makes you think I want to do that?" I barked.

She took my face in her hands. "Because what you're doing is wrong, and you know it. You like having sex, and Jess is very sexy. So am I, I think. But we're your aunts, and we shouldn't be fucking you. It's too risky. And you should be dating girls your own age. You should be getting married, not screwing old ladies like Jess and me." She patted my cheek. "I think you know I'm right."

The strange thing is, I DID think she was right. I finally saw a way out of the dangerous web me and my aunts had weaved. I could stop worrying, stop waiting for that day when I came home, found my mother crying hysterically, shrieking "How could you, how could you!" before she and my uncles stoned me to death.

"All right," I said. "I'll end it."

"Well," Aunt Billie said, "it is Christmas. Why don't you let Aunt Jess enjoy herself one last time? I think I'd feel guilty if I denied her one last ride with Santa."

I stared at the ceiling. "Is fucking Santa a common fantasy among women?" I asked. "You, Aunt Jess..."

"Well, I don't think it's common," she said. "It's fun, sure, going to bed with Kris Kringle. It was a lot of fun. But I really wasn't that much into having sex with Santa."That confused me a bit. "Then why did you, did we..."

She laughed and kissed my nipple. "Because I'm a dirty slut, and I wanted to fuck the brains out of my sexy nephew."

I laughed too. "You aren't a slut."

"Oh, honey, you have no idea."

I squeezed her breast again, she started fondling my penis, but before things got out of control she said, "No no no. Time for you to go."

"Please? Pretty please?"

"Nope," she said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She stood and walked to the mirror and fluffed her hair. "You go home now, and tomorrow give Aunt Jess a present from me."

"Should I tell her that it was you who sent the note?"

She shrugged, her huge breasts lifting and falling. "Sure, but make her figure it out for herself. I like the idea of her being afraid of me."

"You shouldn't call her fat and old," I said. "That's not nice."

"OK, Santa," she said. "I'm sorry."

I got dressed, put on my beard, and accepted one last kiss from my Aunt Billie. "Um, honey," she said, barely able to contain a laugh. "You'd better wash the beard tonight."

I sighed. "My water bill is going be through the roof this year." She hugged me, let me out of the door, and I made my escape.