A Merry Fucking Christmas: Part 1

Yesterday I’d finally found enough energy to sign the divorce papers and mail them back off. Today, I’d woken up extremely late for work thanks to the empty bottle of wine that sat uncorked next to the night stand. After getting halfway dressed, I decided to hell with it and called in. Then I’d crawled my still buzzed ass back into bed with my clothes still on. Surely the bank could function one day without me. Besides, I’d be more like the Grinch than their supervisor today… I was doing them a favor.

The annoying alarm clock sounded off as a reminder that I’d have to eventually get up and move on with my life. I’d already hit the snooze button so many times that I’d lost count. I opened one eye and peered over at the bright red numbers on the little black box. It was already after twelve o’clock. I was about to pull the covers back over my head when my door began to creep open. Moments later my daughter Bri pounced on top of me.

“Get up mommy. I already ate breakfast so now all you have to do is take me to the mall,” she said smiling.

“The mall?” I asked as I turned over in my bed to face her tiny little frame.

“Yea to see Santa remember?” Her eyes lit up brighter than the lights on the seven feet tall Christmas tree that stood facing our living room window downstairs. I’d completely forgotten that in my attempt to get her to chill out and let me sleep I’d promise to take her to see the big golly fake. As much as I adored seeing her semi toothless smile, I really hated letting that guy take credit for all my hard work and not to mention my hard earned money. I mean her father and I had spent hundreds on those gifts, and now I’d have to take her to see some seasonally employed misfit with a glued on bread who’d ultimately take credit for it all. I let out a groan.

“Mommy?” she said reaching up and touching my forehead. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No baby,” I lied. As I laid there looking at her, I seriously considered breaking my promise to Kenneth. We’d agreed to wait until she was ten to tell her, but what harm would telling her two years earlier do?

“Well when we go see Santa, you can ask him to save you and daddy’s marriage.” She paused as if in deep thought then added “I’m sure he can help.”

I pulled her down onto my chest and hugged her tightly. Her innocence was beautiful and part of me wanted her to stay that way for as long as possible. I felt several hot tears roll down my face as she hugged me back. Sometimes the truth just wasn’t worth it.

“I’ll think about asking him okay. Now go get your coat and shoes. We’re going to see Santa!”


When we got to the mall it was packed, but to our surprise it was only a few children standing in the line waiting to see Santa. The other parents stood off to the sides and let their children have their turns alone, but when Bri’s turn came up I held her hand and walked up the three steps and onto the platform with her. I stood back a couple of steps and let her talk to the mall Santa, but I made sure to keep my eyes on them at all times. I didn’t trust mall Santa’s because honestly I could never be sure who was behind the fat suit and the paste-on beard. He saw me watching them and to my surprise winked at me. I stiffly smiled back, but was forced to look away when his cinnamon eyes refused to stop watching me. I silently chastised myself for acting like a shy high school girl and then returned my eyes back to Santa. That’s when he waved me over.

“Bri tells me that you have something to ask me?” he said flashing me a perfect white smile. Once again I felt like that shy high school girl. The butterflies in my stomach began to flutter around. I looked him over, interested to know more about the man behind the Santa suit and the cinnamon colored eyes. His skin was a flawless smooth chocolate with no wrinkles, and aside from the fake protruding belly I could see that the rest of his tall frame was lean and the complete opposite of any of the previous Santa’s I’d ever encountered. If I had to take a guess, he was probably in his early thirties… if that.

“No that’s okay, maybe next time,” I responded and then grabbed my daughter’s hand pulling her away from the stage.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit on Santa’s lap?’ I heard his smooth baritone voice say from behind me. For some reason I stopped and turned around to look at him even though the little voice in my head was telling me to haul ass. I hadn’t imagined the suggestiveness in his tone, and even if I had his eyes were definitely full of burning lust. I slowly walked back toward him and then sat my rounded ass gently down on his lap. For the first time since my husband had dumped me, I felt alive. My eyes fell on his full lips and the slowly worked their way up to connect with his eyes.

“So tell me have you been naughty or nice?” he ask as he brought his hand around to rest on my hip.

“Oh I’ve been nice,” I said.

“So tell me what you’d like me to bring you for Christmas,” he said moving his hand to the lower part of my back and gently stroking it. My pussy instantly began to purr. I looked over at my daughter; she was admiring the larger than life Christmas tree. I could tell that she as well as everyone else was totally in the dark about what was taking place between me and Santa. I lowered my voice to a whisper so that my words would only reach his ears. As I told him exactly what I needed for Christmas, I felt his dick began to swell against my outer thigh. I wanted to reach down and stroke it, but didn’t want to take the risk of getting caught.

I licked my lips while gently rubbing my leg against the bulge in his pants. “What time do you get off?” I whispered as my daughter turned her attention away from the tree and began making her way back over to us.