Santa's workshop

Santa and his blonde fairy work in the workshop, the last toys checked, the final ribbons tied. She catches herself staring at the giant plastic rods she never meant to mark on that list. Santa sees the hunger in her eyes. He steps close, unbuckles his belt, and lets her drop to her knees. She opens her mouth for him first, warm and wet, sucking him deep while her hands stroke his thick length. Then he lifts one slender foot, kisses the arch, runs his tongue along her sole until her toes curl. She arches back on the workbench, legs spread. He teases her opening with the smooth head of the biggest rod, slides it inside inch by inch, the contrast of hard plastic against her soft heat drawing a low moan. When she’s taken all she can, Santa replaces it with the real thing, thrusting steady and deep until she shudders and comes. He pulls out just in time to paint her pretty face, the last gift of the night.