F. C.

‘Tis the season. -M

The gifts were all wrapped and under the tree. Happily home from school for break, Maggie had helped her younger sister bake the cookies, and left a small pile of hem, along with milk on the table near the chimney as the girl had asked before their parents led her up to bed. Maggie sat on the couch, talking to her parents, sipping cocoa, until they retired for the night, and then settled in to read on the couch, making sure no little feet were coming to peek at presents – at least not too early. 

Despite the cold and snow outside, the house was warm and quiet – not a soul was stirring, as they say. Dozing off was, perhaps, inevitable. I move quietly, but it was also inevitable that my motions would wake her up. The startled expression on her face was so sweet. The realizations shit her quickly, one by one. She’d been fully clothed while reading, but was completely naked now. She’d been curled up on the couch, cozy with her book, but now was on her back, legs spread wide. She’d been alone in her living room, but now, there was a man there, naked, bearded, erect, lowering himself between her legs.

She stared up at me. My eyes are often described as kind, jolly even. Never lust-filled. Many emotions passed over her face, including confusion. Maggie didn’t know why she didn’t want to move, to scream, to run, but she really didn’t. She looked down at the rigid cock pointing right at her slit, just about to nuzzle between her labia. I closed the distance, the head of my cock gently dividing, the stretching her open and nosing its way into her. Her rising eyebrows gave away surprise at discovering how wet she was. She wanted, and the emotion radiated from her, from the point of contact of our two bodies. I could nearly feel her body aching with it. My cock, slowly sinking into her, was exactly what she needed. 

“You’ve been a very good girl,” I said.

My voice is as low as as you might imagine, and shivers I could both see and feel passed through her through her in response. Or else it was my shaft pushing deeper that did it. Or both.

She moaned as I pushed in, stretching her, opening her. My belly lowered toward hers. I don’t have the paunch all the illustrations love to imagine, and though my hair and beard are snow-white, the rest of me is, well, remember your dreams – your good dreams. You’ll recognize me there.

Her eyes roamed my body wonderingly, frantically. My arms supported my weight to eitther side of her and her hands found my forearms and gripped them hard. I was almost all the way in now. Maggie was a virgin, but good girls don’t deserve pain – unless they really want it. I made sure there was none when there might have been, just a fleeting resistance inside her that built and broke.

She noticed the tattoo around my bellybutton, which always happens. As often happens, she almost laughed despite being nearly full of cock for the first time in her life. A half-holly wreath above, and ‘F C’ below. Those were the letters here. In other houses, in other countries, on other continents, the letters, even the alphabet, would be different.

She looked up at my face, barely able to mouth the question.

“F… C?”

I smiled down at her, pushing my belly pushing against hers. My cock was completely buried inside her warmth, her wholesomeness, The new sensations kept adding up. My balls pressed against her below the junction of our bodies. Deep inside, where she’d never felt, nor even imagined anything before, a pressure, where I pushed up against a part of her that wouldn’t yield… until it did.

“Ho ho ho!” My laugh is as jovial as people imagine. “It’s for Father Christmas.”

“Father Chr-”

She couldn’t finish the words, because I had begun fucking her. Not fast at first – some gifts are to be savored. I slid nearly all the way out, and then pushed back firmly, full and deep. Maggie sighed, and melted more with each slow plunge. Her inner muscles squeezed, making making me groan in joy, and sending tingles through her even I could feel. 

“Such a good girl,” I told her.

She cooed, staring at the point of our joining. 

“Good girls get presents.”

My pace increased. Every inch of bare flesh rubbing, stretching, passing in her set off new shudders of pleasure.

Father Christmas.

I could see it on her face – a climax was coming. She knew, just as I did that it would be unlike anything she’d felt with just her fingers. So much more.

“The best presents”

I hilted inside her, letting myself go. She felt me swell bigger within her, stretching her more as I pressed fully in. The sound I let out at times like this don’t make it into the stories. Not the stories everyone tells, at least. It made Maggie tremble. It made her realize-

…Father…

I stared into her eyes as I pumped my seed deep inside her, and she came, and came and came.

Maggie was roused by the sound of rustling paper. It was her little sister sneaking down to open her presents early. Maggie looked at the clock 4:30 am!

The little girl jumped about a foot when a stern voice from behind her told her to go back to bed. She’d been so intent on the prize she hadn’t noticed her older sister sleeping on the couch. Maggie was glad she was a light sleeper, otherwise her whole vigil would have been for naught.

She shooed her sister up the stairs and back into bed, tucked her in, and gave her best “I’m watching you” expression, which she was pretty sure would be enough to keep the girl in place until at least 6, which would be plenty. So Maggie tiptoed to her own room and got undressed and crawled into her own bed, trying to recall the fading sexy dream she’d been having. There was a small box on her pillow. It looked handmade, because it was, and very pretty, closed with a bow of rough twine, that also held a small card with her name on it.

There was no one to stop her from opening her present a little early, so she did.

Inside were two of those pregnancy test sticks and a note tied to each one, written in my flowing hand.

The first one looked like had been used, because it had been, after a fashion. It showed two little lines in the window, and the note said ‘Christmas Magic.’ It hasn’t always been those devices, but I found them very handy once they were invented.

The hand holding the note shook a little, and the other hand had unconsciously moved to her belly as I let images and feelings from her “dream” come flooding back. A strange flowing sensation began between her legs, like her period was coming by surprise, but not the same. She slid her hand down, but there was no blood. The stuff slowly leaking out of her was thicker, and had a heady scent.

The second test was still wrapped. My note on it said ‘Use this in one month. Share the joyous news. All will be well. Be good, for goodness’ sake. I will see you both next year. -F. C.’

Categories: Erotica, Fantasy, First Time, Impregnation, MonocleTags: , , , , , ,

Monocle

I am the little devil on your shoulder, stroking your neck with my tail, whispering obscenities into your ear, and looking down your blouse. One third of The Erotic Writer blog.

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