Bacstage of Jingle Balls

Kitty Cat kept her good-girl act all year. Santa Frank Major brought exactly what she asked for. She had written one item on that list—his thick cock to stroke, suck, and slide into every warm place it would fit. He drops his red coat, and the real holiday begins. Kitty strips the last piece of lace from her skin, lies back on the studio couch, and opens her thighs so Frank can see how wet the thought alone has made her. She wraps her fingers around the heavy shaft, feeling it throb, then takes it in both hands like a present she plans to unwrap with her mouth first. Her tongue traces every vein, lips stretch wide, and she sinks down until her nose brushes his belly. When she comes up for air she smiles, spit glistening on her chin. Frank lifts her onto the table, spreads her open, and feeds that same cock deep between her smooth lips. Each thrust rocks the furniture, her little tits bounce, and she keeps her eyes on him like she’s still hoping for more. He flips her onto all fours and drives in from behind, fingers digging into her ass while she moans and pushes back for every inch. The room fills with wet sounds and short, sharp cries. She comes first, shaking hard, then again when he pulls out and paints her tongue and lips white. Frank steps back, red coat back on his shoulders, and Kitty Cat licks the last drops from her fingers like the season’s sweetest treat.