Twas the night

[A humorous gift for kat.]

 

Twas the night of her ravishing,

throughout the whole house,

two creatures playfully stirring

with kinky games, like cat and mouse.

Her stockings were flung

by the chimney without care,

with hope at some point

they’ll bind her when bare.

christmas-sexy-1

The children are gone,

sleeping in Grandma’s spare beds,

while we bring to life visions

that have often danced in our heads.

Kat’s eyes covered with her ‘kerchief,

as I give her butt a slap,

so aroused by the pleasure,

she eagerly awaits the strap.

 

When out on the roof

there arose such a clatter,

so I sprang from our bed

to see what was the matter.

Away to the window

still naked I dashed,

tore open the shutter

and threw up the sash.

 

Moonlight settling upon Kat’s flesh,

enhancing the hue of her first after-glow,

and gave the luster of midday

to erogenous zones, above and below.

When what to my wandering

eyes should appear,

but a miniature sleigh

and eight tiny reindeer.

 

With a little old driver

so lively and quick,

I knew it was Bad Santa

hoping to dip his wick.

More rapid than eagles,

his coursers they came,

as he drunkenly shouted

and slurred each ones name:

 

“Now, Flasher! Now, Biter!

Now, Fighter and Vixen!

On, Cunt-rag! On, Cute-pud!

On, Dung-hill and Sextin’!

To the top of the porch!

Don’t miss it and fall!

We’ll dash away! Dash away!

After my booty call!”

badsanta1

As dry leaves that before

the wild hurricane fly,

when they meet with an obstacle

mount to the sky,

so up to the house-top

the coursers they flew,

with the sleigh full of sex toys

and Bad Santa too.

 

And then in a twinkling

I heard on the roof

the prancing and pawing

of each clumsy hoof.

As I drew in my head,

and was turning around,

down the chimney Bad Santa

crashed to the ground.

 

He was dressed all in leather,

from his head to his foot,

and his clothes were tarnished

with dried cum, ashes, and soot.

Adult toys were bundled

and flung on his back,

he looked like a pimp peddling

something for each orifice and crack.

 

His eyes were all glassy

like all drunks when sloshed.

His bare ass cheeks in chaps were rosy,

but his nose was brown, by gosh!

His droll little mouth was puckered,

as if ready to blow;

and the beard on his chin was white,

but spotted like Frank Zappa’s yellow snow.

 

The stump of a pipe

he held tight in his teeth,

and the pot smoke encircled

his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face

and a keg-sized beer belly,

that shook when he laughed

like a slapped ass fucked with K-Y jelly.

 

He was chubby and plump,

a mean grouchy old elf,

and I snickered when I saw him,

in spite of myself.

He tried to wink his lazy eye,

greasy hair matted on his head,

and it was obvious to me,

I had nothing to dread.

 

 

He spoke not a word,

seeing I was twice his size,

for allowing him to leave unharmed

he would give me the grand prize.

He dropped the bag of sex toys,

and casually picked his nose,

then flipped me the bird

while up the chimney he rose.

 

He sprang to his sleigh

and yelled a stern warning,

“The first one of you that snickers

will be venison sausage by morning.”

And I heard him exclaim

‘ere he drove out of sight,

“You damn lucky bastard,

you get to fuck her all night!”

2 thoughts on “Twas the night

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