Page 29 of Subbing For Santa

I instantly recognise the smooth round surface of the cherry before sinking my teeth in for the flavour to ooze out over my tongue. I bite and chew around the pit before sticking my tongue back out with the pit on it, and let it fall into my lap.

“Cherry.” I grin and again, he chuckles.

This goes on and on.

I taste the sweetness of whipped cream, the tang of mustard. Then I come across something I can’t figure out, and my panties are ripped from my body when I answer incorrectly.

He doesn’t stop, though. More and more flavours fill my mouth, but now as he feeds me, he tweaks my nipples, or flicks his tongue over my breasts, cleaning up a trail of strawberry syrup and honey that spills free.

“Little elf. You are so incredibly sexy when you eat.” Santa rasps before nipping my lips. His voice is filled with lust, and it sends electrical currents to my clit.

Every so often, I hear him gasp a little, or grunt, and my mind conjures images of him standing before me with his hand wrapped around his cock. The thought that he could be getting himself off while he feeds me sends heat washing over my body from head to toe and I begin to pant with anticipation of something I have no idea is actually happening.

“Open.” He grunts, almost as if he’s in pain, and I open, desperate for what he has to give, sticking my tongue out. Then I hear a strangled type of moan, and a moment later warm salty goodness squirts onto my tongue and I leave it out, leaning forward as a moan rumbles in my chest and my mouth begins to fill.

I swallow and cry out. “More.” And more of his seed comes. “More,” I cry again, and the silk of his tip presses to my tongue. I lick over it, the tip of my tongue pressing into his slit before I close my mouth around his girth and suck.

“Fuck, Aggie.” He groans, his hand coming to the back of my head as he fists my hair.

I love it when he calls me Aggie, and not little elf. It feels more personal, and I wonder if he realises he did it.

“My turn.” His cock pulls from my mouth, and I whimper, nearly tumbling off the chair as I lean forward in search of it.

His large hands come to my knees, spreading them wide before he tugs me forward in the chair a little. I fall back, my hands whipping out to the base of the seat to steady myself, and before I know what’s going on, I feel the silk of his tongue glide up between my folds.

I cry out, my head lolling back as I spread my legs wider, giving him full access to my pussy. He laps at me like a man starved, his tongue flicking my needy bud before diving as far as it can reach inside me.

I’m helpless not to grind up to meet his mouth, desperate to swallow him whole. Without thinking, my hand reaches forward, my fingers sinking into thick silky hair, and I grip it tight, holding him captive in between my legs.

A low growl rumbles from Santa, and I almost expect him to pull back and scold me for touching him, but his hands grip my thighs tighter, and he picks up his pace, eating my pussy like it’s a delectable dessert that he needs to devour.

“Yes.” I pant. “Just like that.” I grind harder against his face, feeling the scratch of longish stubble from his jaw.

My pleasure builds quickly, and before I can ease it back to make this last longer, I explode, both hands clinging to his head as I mash myself against his face.

“Oh. My. God.” I pant as I start to come down and my body falls lax.

I release his head slowly, revelling in the way his chuckle teases my sensitivity, and he kisses a trail up my front, over my breasts before claiming my lips. It’s a searing kiss, and I taste myself on his tongue, wringing yet another moan from me.

“Fuck, Aggie.” He pants as he nibbles on my lips. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

I feel his forehead press against mine, and the urge to pull my mask free is almost too overwhelming. The game we are playing is fun, but I’m desperate to know who this man is. I’m scared that once the game is over, he will disappear, and I’ll never know who it was that took me to the place I’ve been longing to reach for so long.

“I want to see you.” I whisper, letting my emotions show a little.

“Not yet.” He pulls back from my forehead, and I worry I’ve said something wrong. Is he going to leave now? He said we were spending the day together, but has he changed his mind now?

“Am I ever going to get to see you?” I push a little more because I can’t help myself.

“If you’re a good girl.” His breath flutters over my ear as he whispers his reply, and then he’s gone, stepping away from me.

My fear that he is going to leave is quickly dashed as I hear him cleaning up before coming back to me and pulling me to stand. He tugs my torn dress all the way free, leaving me to stand completely naked before him.

“Let’s make some lunch.” He takes my hand, leading me carefully through my house to the kitchen where he presses his bare chest and jean clad hips against my back, and guides my hands from behind to help me blindly make a sandwich.

As we work together, he whispers in my ear, instructing me on what we are about to do, and I find myself relaxing and giggling like a giddy schoolgirl through most of the process. When the food is made, he leads me to the couch, where he slowly feeds me the sandwich, and he lets me blindly feed him his.

I know I’m making a mess of things, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his warm chuckle making me feel at ease. He’s letting me touch him now, which is new. Sure, I gripped his head before, but now, as I reach out, I cup his stubbled jawline to help guide me to his mouth. When the tips of my fingers move up to his cheeks and forehead, they are met with soft, smooth skin that hints of a well-groomed man.

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