Page 7 of The Professor's Holiday Surprise

I went back to the North Pole Rodeo Champion shtick and made my cowboy gear festive. A shiny green bow on my belt buckle, some tinkling bells one week when I knew I had the house to myself.

But now we’re in the final countdown to the holidays, and it’s time to put the Father Christmas back in Cowboy Santa.

Off-camera, I pull on the red velour pants and the matching plush jacket. This costume came with a big black belt that I’m forgoing, choosing instead to make my own belt work with the get up, and a giant, oversized hat that I put on even though it won’t be seen on camera.

It’s funny how making my way to the big chair in the corner of my room has now become synonymous with these fantasies of Paisley in my head. My cock is already hard as I take my seat and stretch out my legs in front of me.

I have some questions pre-programmed into my phone so I can trigger them with just a few letters, to minimize the amount of time I’m on my phone. Viewers can tell, and I’ve learned that I am an exhibitionist. I need toknowI have their attention, and when I spend too much time typing, the energy flags.

They’re not here to chat with me.

They’re here to see my dick.

On the monitor closest to me, in huge font size, my message appears in the chat.

CowboySanta

Time for Santa’s favorite cowgirl to tell him what she wants for Christmas

I pat my thigh, stretching the red velour tight over my bulge. Imagining a world where Paisley would curl up in my lap and whisper her dirtiest desires in my ear.

There’s a flurry of little presents floating up the chat screen as my fans respond with clicks, and then comments.

Most of them want my dick, as I expected.

GoodGardenGirl

I’d love to hear your voice

Can’t do that, unfortunately. I’m running enough of a risk doing this anonymously with just my body. I’d lose my teaching job real fucking fast if it came out I have an OnlySantas account.

She’ll have to be happy with getting what the rest of them ask for.

I push my hand up my bare chest, then pull it down my abs, thrusting my hips when I reach my waistband.

I can still feel Paisley’s gaze raking over my body that first time we met. Her bouncy curls, her bright green eyes.

She’sa fucking Christmas Elf.

And she makes Santa so fucking hard.

Groaning, I pull my waistband down, pushing the head of my cock along with it. Baring just a hint of hard, masculine flesh. Thick and throbbing.

I’ve thought about this next sequence of messages all week. I write them after every class with Paisley, a form of self-flagellation. Now I barely have to glance at my phone as I send the fantasy dirty talk into the universe.

CowboySanta

look how hard you make me

bad girl, making Santa hard when all I asked was what you want for Christmas

my cock is throbbing so hard it aches

can you keep a secret?

I want to take it out and stroke a bit

Should I do that?

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