“Master Claus? Why are you working so late? Everybody else is in bed now.”
In bed, but not necessarily asleep, Santa thought. “You’re not in bed, little one. I’m finishing the day’s toys. Why are you still awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” She came towards him where he sat at the workbench. Santa saw that she was not so young as he had first supposed. Her slim hips had a pleasing curve to them, and atop her chest sat two happy little breasts, perfectly in proportion with her delicate torso and slender legs. For an instant Santa thought he detected the points of her stiffened nipples pricking out through the red velvet robe she wore, and he imagined that they were high and proud. Other than the robe, she was dressed only in a pointy fur cap and fur-line slippers — her young legs were bare and graceful, emerging beneath the hem of the robe in a tapering line that led downwards from her flaring maidenly hips. Santa blinked and looked up at her face, taking in the blue, doe-like eyes that stared trustingly into his own, the dainty chin and button nose, pointed ears matching the pointy velvet cap, out of which cascaded rich tresses of straight blond hair that seemed like rivers of brushed gold falling down onto her shoulders. Her gaze was innocent as she asked, “Master Claus, can you help me?”
“Why certainly, Timma… tell me what’s wrong.”
With astonishing grace, Timma drew close to him, then settled herself into his lap as he sat there on the workbench. All the young elves were used to sitting on his lap when they were little, as he would tell them stories through the long polar winter. Now as she faced him, her eyes staring soulfully into his, her sweet breath stirring the whiskers of his beard, Santa found that he had to struggle hard to remind himself what she had asked. Sitting as she was, her robe had gaped open, and Santa could see the slopes of her pert young breasts swelling in the shadows of the garment. His cock gave a little leap under her, and he shifted uncomfortably so that she wouldn’t feel it pressing up against her soft thighs.
“I don’t think the other elves like me.” Her clear blue eyes clouded with tears as she said this, and her pink lips quivered slightly. “We all used to play together, but now Pekka and Tyko only want to spend time with Nummi. They’re always sneaking off with her and leaving me alone. And I don’t think Nummi likes me either. Once I saw Pekka in the reindeer stable. He was in Dancer’s stall, and I went up to talk to him, but he wasn’t really paying any attention to me. Then I looked down, and saw Nummi hiding below the wall of the stall. She was on her knees, and had her head pressed against Pekka’s tummy, and she wouldn’t even talk to me! All she did was kind of grunt at me without looking, and Pekka told me to go away.” Timma was crying softly now as she said this, her soft bosom heaving up and down, and her sobbing caused her sweet bottom to rub back and forth on Santa’s thigh. Her robe had ridden up, and Santa realized with a burst of arousal that her bare pussy was rubbing on his velvet breeches. His penis stiffened to attention, and when the sobbing Timma threw her arms around him, mashing her young elf-breasts against his chest, she caught his hardened cock between the outside of her limber thigh and his own belly. Each wracking sob caused an exquisite friction on his penis, and just when he thought he might burst and coat both of them with his creamy spunk, she leaned back and stared into his eyes with innocent apology.
“I’m sorry Master Claus. I know you have better things to do than listen to a silly little elf-girl. I’ll go back to bed now.” And with this she climbed off his lap, her long coltish limbs unfolding gracefully. But during her crying fit, one edge of her robe had gotten caught in Santa’s great metal belt buckle, so that when she stood up it opened up, revealing pert little breasts topped with raspberry nipples, a trim white stomach with a tiny little belly button, and the smallest little triangle of downy golden fur covering her tiny little pussy. With a squeal of embarrassment she clutched at the robe, but it was stuck fast and one of her legs caught also, so that she sprawled awkwardly onto the workshop floor, the robe coming off entirely, her delicate legs splayed wide and revealing fully the pouting lips of her nether portal. Hastily Santa rose to cover her with the robe, at the same instant as she scrambled to her hands and knees and began to stand up, so that in an instant her full bottom collided with Santa’s waist, and his still-erect cock slipped between her legs and grazed the lips of her pussy with its velvet-covered softness.
Both of them froze. Santa was too stunned to react for a moment, and before he was able to gather his wits about him, Timma began to move slightly, first forward and then back, so that her lush backside nestled itself more firmly into his groin. This action caused the velvet top of his hardened prick to rub teasingly along the lips of her cunt, and it seemed almost as though she was testing out this new sensation that had so unexpectedly presented itself. Forward and back she went again, and a low moan escaped from the back of her delicate throat. Soon she was engaging in a regular motion, her eyes half closed, panting slightly, the entirety of her concentration focused on the new and tender sensations emanating from between her thighs. Her breasts swayed with each movement, and in the guttering light of the candle cast enormous shadows upon the walls. Each stroke plowed a furrow between her pussylips, drawing a lingering caress along their edges, and coaxed a shuddering sigh from her lungs.
Suddenly her warm, sucking young cunt pulled off of Santa’s straining cock, revealing the dampness of the soaked velvet material, and her hands were working deftly at the laces of Santa’s breeches. A fierce determination showed itself in her eyes as she pulled the garment down to his knees, setting free the tautly stretched rod inside. Her slim delicate fingers curled around it testingly, exploring its length with a feathery touch. Santa groaned wordlessly, and Timma looked up at him, her doe-eyes shining, and whispered, “Now I know what Nummi was doing in Dancer’s stall.” And with that, her agile tongue flicked out teasingly and traced the tip of his cock for a moment, before retreating again between her full pink lips. Out again came the pointy little tongue, tracing around the purple crown, coating it with gleaming saliva. Then she formed her moistened lips into a round O, closing them delicately around the tip of his cock, engulfing its head in her warm wet mouth, sighing slightly as she did so, so that her warm breath fluttered along the length of his prick and her lips vibrated resonantly. Her golden hair spilled down her naked back, as she knelt before Santa with his prick in her mouth, cute little elf-breasts sticking out proudly before her, knees spread so that her wet pussy gaped openly downwards below its soft thatch of golden fur. Looking upward with her wide blue eyes, Timma slid her lips longingly down the length of Santa’s straining pole, then backwards again, running her tongue gently over its bumps and ridges as she stroked in and out, in and out. She hummed wordlessly, lost in an ecstasy of worship, soaking in the new sensations she was experiencing as his steaming meat filled her eager little mouth. Suddenly her baby-blue eyes popped open, and she pulled her lips off of Santa’s cock, which emerged wet and shining from the depths of her slender throat.
“That’s nice, but not so nice as the first thing,” she said, hopping up on the workbench and spreading her long legs around Santa’s shoulders. She grasped his prick in her tiny little hand and pulled it gently, inexorably toward the point where her legs met, where the bubbly globes of her backside lay slightly flattened on the bench, and above them the opening lips of her tiny golden pussy covered with shining golden hairs. The purple head of Santa’s cock pushed fatly into the folds of her cunt, splitting the two lips on either side and stretching them out redly, and extending the little button of her clitoris so that it rubbed against the tip. Timma lay quivering, breasts poised, mouth half open in longing. The opening lay waiting redly, expectantly, as she gradually pushed herself downwards onto the madly stiff pole, which disappeared into the sucking depths with a slow, smooth glide.
There was the briefest of hitches, and then Timma’s clutching arms pulled Santa’s cock deep within her warm folds, spearing her wanting hole with his manly weapon. A moment later, she was sliding off of him, and then back down his length, clasping his prick with a soft, firm grasp that nonetheless yielded each time he reentered her. Soon Timma was bouncing gaily on his cock, crying out with a little gasp each time she hit bottom, her tits jiggling wantonly, legs splaying out slightly with each thrust. Her mouth gaped open each time her needy pussy slid down the length of his prick, and as he slid out again her cuntlips seemed to suck tenderly at it as though sorry to see it go. Santa’s hands came down and squeezed her cute young breasts together, rubbing and playing with the desperately stiff little nipples, causing her to groan with arousal. Her rhythmic gasps filled the workshop, faster and faster, as her suddenly knowing little pussy worked his cock and her full ruby-tipped mounds occupied his hands.
With a roar, Santa felt the last of his self-restraint give way, as a river of semen gushed from his cock into her eagerly awaiting pussy. Urgent pulses of energy pumped life into her willing womb, filling her up with sticky come. Timma was lost in the throes of orgasmic bliss, her breath coming in short little gasps, head thrown back so that her delicate neck was exposed and her golden tresses spilled over the workbench. At last her throes of ecstasy subsided, and a delicate flush of color spread from her cheeks, down over her heaving young breasts, almost to the point where their bodies still remained joined, Santa’s cock buried deep within her lithe little body. “Well, now I know what I want for Christmas,” she said breathlessly.
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