Background: I woke up Christmas morning and wrote this. I tried to post it then, but I've been away for so long I've been having issues signing in. So, I finally was able to sign in and had time to share this. So...consider this a late Christmas present.
‘Twas the night before Christmas
My folks were in bed.
I’d snuck downstairs
To catch jolly ol’red.
My camera was poised
In front of my face.
With patience I aimed
At our old fire place.
I waited and waited
For him to show up.
I ate all his cookies.
I drank his milk cup.
Then on top of my house
I heard all the sounds.
I knew that dear Santa
Would soon slide on down.
Jump from the chimney
And into my view.
I steadied my camera,
I knew what to do.
But when he appeared
He looked right my way
I was frozen with fear
Then I heard Santa say:
“Dear Emma, oh Emma…
You should be sleeping
Not down in your living room
Shooting and creeping.”
I couldn’t believe it,
He called me by name.
I didn’t shoot pictures,
I reddened with shame.
“Now Emma, my dear,”
Old Santa went on.
“you must be punished.
Your actions are wrong.”
My smile went all frowny,
It was I who was caught.
Now he would leave
With the presents he brought.
Though I just thought it,
Somehow he knew…
He said, “no dear Emma,
That’s not what I’ll do.
I’ve got plans, darling.
Please step into view.
I don’t see cookies…
But I will see you.”
I did as he said,
I walked round the chair.
I stood on the carpet
He said, “Yes, right there.”
“Now Emma,” he spoke
The you I will see,
Is you completely.
As nude as can be.”
My eyes got all wide
my knees started shaking.
My heart beat so fast
The room started quaking.
He said “simmer down.
It won’t be that bad.
But you ate my cookies
And milk and I’m mad.”
He raised his one finger
To the side of his nose.
Gave it a wiggle
And off went my clothes.
I stood there before
the bearded old dude
It was just as he said,
Dear Emma was nude.
He liked what saw
From the smile that he wore
As he looked me over
I felt like a whore.
I didn’t dare cover
A bit of my body
So he saw it all
And I felt quite naughty.
He saw my young tits
tiny, but firm.
He reached out and touched them
I started to squirm.
He fondled a bit
Then his hands slid on down
To my waist, to my back
To my butt, slightly round.
Then he crouched before me,
And got a good look
Of my bald little pussy
Which he touched and I shook.
As he inspected my body,
My God given goods
I saw in his trousers
His Santa Claus wood.
I was red and quite nervous
No clue what was next.
Would Santa Claus fuck me?
Would this lead to sex?
“Spread your legs, Emma.”
I heard the man beg
As he kissed my wet pussy
Between my two legs.
But then Santa rose
He stepped back from his prize.
And I saw the devious
Look in his eyes.
“I’m busy tonight,
Emma, my dear.
I’ll come back to finish you
Sometime next year.”
His movements were quick
Up the chimney he rose
As I stood in my living room
Wearing no clothes.
I moved to the chair,
A little unsteady.
Primed by the elf,
My engine was ready.
I knew what to do,
In the chair in by the tree.
My fingers went deep
Inside of me.
The twinkling lights
And the ornament’s glow
The tinsel reflection…
I put on quite a show.
One hand on my tits
In my puss went the other.
And into that scene
who appeared? It was mother!
How long was she there?
I just do not know.
But to my horror,
She had dad in tow.
They both watched in shock
As I came on the chair
Screaming “yes Santa!”
As I orgasmed there.
When I saw their faces
My heart sank a bit
I knew I’d been caught.
I knew this was it.
“Oh Emma,” mom cried.
“It’s Christmas morn,
You’re acting a slut,
You should be in porn!”
And father agreed,
He said “She’s right dear.
You’re acting so naughty
At this time of year.”
My parents aghast
Watched as I stood.
Saw their girl naked,
They’d thought I was good.
I said I would go to my room
And get dressed.
But two steps later,
They began to protest.
“No dear,” mom said.
I stopped and I turned.
“If we let you get dressed,
There’s no lesson learned.
Your cousins will be here,
Your aunts, uncles too.
You will stay naked
Yes, that’s what you’ll do.”
And father agreed.
I stammered, “please no.”
“I’m sorry Em,
That’s how this will go.”
…And so that’s the year
We began this tradition.
I’m naked each Christmas.
It’s not my decision.
Please, don’t tell my folks,
It’s actually fun.
I’ve loved every Christmas
Since this has begun.
And Santa? He visits
A few times a year.
Each of those times
He leaves in good cheer.
Is this what I wanted?
Well, probably not but…
I loved being a Mr. Claus
Christmastime slut!
SO, now I’m must go.
The family is here.
Merry Christmas to all,
Have it naked this year!
The Night Before Christmas... (Poem, complete.)
- superevil7
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Re: The Night Before Christmas... (Poem, complete.)
I'm so sorry I missed this until now! What a cute and wonderful poem you wrote! Love the idea of a naked Christmas tradition for dear Emma
This definitely deserve way more attention.
This definitely deserve way more attention.
- AllieNF
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Re: The Night Before Christmas... (Poem, complete.)
Thank you. I was very happy with how it turned out. It was a little lark I went on, and I'm glad I did. I appreciate your kind words.superevil7 wrote: ↑Thu Feb 02, 2023 4:03 pm I'm so sorry I missed this until now! What a cute and wonderful poem you wrote! Love the idea of a naked Christmas tradition for dear Emma
This definitely deserve way more attention.
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