Last Christmas my friend Adrian wanted me to play Santa at a swingers’ party in a private club.

I’m not married or anything, but I wasn’t crazy about having swingers sit on my lap, so I told him to forget it. He called me a Scrooge. But he never found anyone to play the role, so when the big night rolled around, he called and begged me to be their Santa. “I’ll do it for a C note,” I said, and we had a deal.

So I played Santa, and it wasn’t so bad. I sat on this brass chair called Santa’s Throne, and I had to hand out tequila candy canes and adult surprise gifts like dildos, vibrators, and sex gels. There was this blonde named Sydney who played my elf. She wore a hot green miniskirt, a tight midriff-baring top, and a green cap. The whole time the members were crushing my lap telling me how much sex they wanted, I was staring at my elf’s tight buns and juicy red lips. Every time she saw me looking, she either licked her lips or bent over and flashed me her green thong. I think she was doing that because, knowing how I felt about playing Santa, she wanted to give me a little something for my effort.

“I want a Christmas Barbie,” said this one lady sitting on my lap, with melons for tits.

“Yeah, me too,” I said.

“But you’re Santa,” the lady said.

“Santa can have anything he wants.”

She reached down and grabbed my crotch through my Santa suit. “My,” she said, “Santa has a Christmas chubby.”

Ms. Melon Breasts’ impromptu grope got me thinking. I’m really shy by nature, but I decided to be more outgoing just then. After all the swingers had had their jollies and left, I sauntered over to the punch bowl and offered Sydney a cup of rum punch. Her blonde hair glowed under the clubhouse’s fluorescent lights. “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was playing on the stereo.

Sydney took the punch and asked, not so innocently, “Do you think it’s unnatural for an elf to want her Santa?”

“No,” I replied, “I think it’s the most natural thing this side of Santa’s Village.” I handed her a surprise gift, and she opened it right away — a vibrator shaped like a huge cock.

She licked it and said, “Yummy.”

I told Adrian to leave and that Sydney and I would clean up. He caught my drift and got lost. The next thing I knew, Sydney was on her knees, licking and sucking my North Pole with her red elf lips. “Has Santa been a good boy this year?” she asked between licks.

“Oh yes,” I said.

Sydney made me sit back down on Santa’s Throne. She still had on her elf cap when she pulled up her skirt and straddled me. She stuffed my Christmas sausage in her hot wet pussy, and I pulled up her half-shirt and started tonguing her nipples like a wildman. I had my hands on her hips as she slammed her killer bod against mine, and we got this crazy Santa-elf rhythm going until we were both panting to beat the band. “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” started playing. “Oh Santa,” Sydney wailed. “Oh God, Santa!” I shot a bucket of holiday cream into my elf’s pussy just as she orgasmed.

“Promise to play Santa next year?” Sydney asked, giggling.

“I promise,” I said. “I really promise.”