Christmas Treat

Snow already coats the ground. Cold wind rattles the door. Frost claws its way across the glass in lacy patterns. Christmas has arrived. Nesty stays warm by the fire, steam curling from her teacup, crumbs of gingerbread on her lips, the little red skirt barely covering the swell of her hips. She watches the flames, and the firelight licks up the long blonde hair that falls over her generous tits. When she leans forward to reach for another cookie, those full breasts strain against thin fabric, nipples tight from the sudden chill that sneaks under the door. A thick strand of her hair catches on her mouth. She brushes it away, licks the frosting from her fingertip, and smiles like she already knows the night will end with her face painted white.