Feature Writer: Stories with Nebic

Feature Title:  Santa Comes

Published: 27.12.2016

Story Codes: Cheating, Cuckold, Filthy Rimming

Synopsis: Twisted Tales for Depraved Deviants

Santa Comes

I was finishing dinner when my wife got home, bringing with her a gift like no other. It was Christmas Eve, and although I had often told Rachel to be more giving, I never expected her generosity to be so … unrestrained. Pulling a glazed ham from the oven, I heard the front door open as the holly wreath jingled it’s bells.

“Honey, I’m home!” she shouted, “And you’ll never guess who I brought with me!”

Curious, I pulled off my mitts and adjusted my apron, walking into the living room just in time to see a black homeless man, dressed as Santa, french kissing my wife. I stood in the doorway watching as they groped at each other, breathing heavily while their lips and tongues twisted together.

Clearing my throat, I announced, “Christmas does come early, huh?”

To which they stopped and turned, leaving my wife to reply.

“He hasn’t cum yet, but I’ll make sure he does.”

The poor black man seemed as confused as he was aroused. He looked to me, unsure what he should say or do while my wife continued stroking the fat bulge in his baggy red pants. I couldn’t help but grin, telling them to have fun while I finished cooking.

From the kitchen, I could hear everything I loved about winter. The fire crackling in our fireplace, the cold, icy sleet that was falling against the roof, and of course the wet, sloppy moans coming from Rachel while she worshiped our guest’s cock. Likely between his legs, I smiled and continued cooking when I heard her gasp for air, no doubt trying to deep throat the lucky fellow. It’s what I loved about the holidays.

Finishing my feast, I wiped my hands across a towel and headed back to see them. Inside the room, I declared, “It’s chow time,” before noticing that Rachel was already eating. Reclined on our couch, the black man had closed his eyes while my wife went to work. I doubt he even noticed, but I was mesmerized when Rachel cleaned his cock.

Pulling back the foreskin of his thick, uncut cock, my innocent darling wife went crazy over his build up of smegma. The chunky yellow cheese was hungrily scooped up by her tongue, moaning with pleasure as she devoured it, sucking and licking up everything she could find. Looking to me for a response, I winked and gave her a thumbs up.

His newly cleaned cock must have been sensitive under it’s hood, because soon after she swallowed what remained, he sat up and told her he was getting close. Looking at me, I reminded them.

“Ham’s done,” which gave my wife a dirty idea.

Standing, she helped pull the dirty black Santa off our couch before leading him into the kitchen. Entering behind them, I took notice of Rachel’s intent, knowing exactly what she wanted without being told. Walking around, I put on my mitts again before picking up the Christmas ham, carrying it over and holding it below his thick dark cock.

Putting myself in the line of fire, I waited and watched as my wife began stroking him. Grunting and bucking his hips, it seemed like the poor man hadn’t cum in years, but luckily my wife was here to help him. Moaning loudly, almost painfully as he came, months of being pent up resulted in an explosive ejaculation.

I took the first shot straight to the face, but the rest erupted across the ham, glazing it with nasty semen. Bucking forward with each spurt, his old, yellow sperm gushed for what seemed like forever. There was no doubt it had been a while, because when his orgasm finally receded, his chunky sperm covered the entire top of our main course.

“It looks delicious, baby,” Rachel moaned, scooping a thick droplet of sperm from the tip of his cock before swallowing it.

Our black Santa was less enthused. “I ain’t eatin’ that,” he said flatly, causing my wife and I to burst into laughter.

I promised I’d prepare something else for him, but in the meantime, now was a good time to chat. Setting the freshly glazed ham aside, I wiped away my facial with a towel before washing my hands.

“Are you going to eat, honey?” I asked Rachel, knowing that her pussy must’ve been on fire.

“Yeah, baby,” she moaned, grinning at our guest, “I’ll have more dark sausage, but before that, I want fudge.”

Santa couldn’t believe her as my wife circled behind him, dropping to her knees and pressing her face into his dirty, homeless ass. I purposely kept my hand off my cock, hoping to minimize how awkward or strange the situation was, still, I imagine he had only one thought.

“What the fuck is wrong with white people?”

Now leaning forward and opening his legs, my wife reached around and began stroking him, working to get his cock up. I suspected she was giving him the best rimjob of his life, since every attempt he made to speak ended with him crossed eyed and slack jawed. Besides the occasional moan, my wife stayed quiet as she devoured his hole, likely cleaning it inside and out. When his cock had finally hardened in her hand, she pulled away from his ass and took a deep breath.

“Did you have fun?” I asked her.

“Of course, honey,” she replied, stepping out from behind with a brown ring around her lips.

I couldn’t help laughing, but she must have known, because before I could run she pulled me into a bitter sweet kiss, pushing her tongue down my throat and nearly gagging me. Santa wasn’t sure how to react, instead just standing by and keeping his dick hard.

“Let me wash up,” Rachel told him after our kiss, “Then you get the main course, baby.”

Leaving the room left me and the homeless man alone. Though awkward for anyone else, this wasn’t the first stud my wife had brought home, so I broke the ice by asking what he thought.

“That your wife?” was his first question.

“Sure is,” I said with a smile, showing him my wedding band.

“And you okay with this?”

“Of course,” I grinned, “It’s Christmas.”

“Fuck, man,” he chuckled, rubbing his hand over his unkempt oily hair, “This crazy.”

“Just enjoy yourself, you’re our guest, so anything you want is yours, I mean it.”

I imagine he wanted to pinch himself, wondering if all of this was real. Instead he thought a moment and asked if I had a condom.

“I do, but she won’t let you use it.”

“For real?”

“Yup, she wants it bareback, no pulling out, Santa.”

Rachel returned refreshed, reaching for his cock instead of his hand, pulling him out of the room. One last glance at me, and his expression screamed, “Help,” making me laugh. Off to the bedroom, I got busy cooking again. By the time I had finished what was needed, I could hear the headboard crashing against the wall, along with Rachel moaning over how good it felt.

Once I was sure the food wouldn’t burn, I left the kitchen and headed for the bedroom, hoping to catch a quick show before they finished. Entering the room, I found Rachel sitting over him, riding the black man like a horse while he kneaded her large ass.

“Oh fuck yes! Do it, Santa, give it to me!”

I grinned, trying not to laugh as they continued. The black man noticed when I entered the room, but afterwards ignored me, focused more on giving my wife his cock. My own dick was screaming as I watched, the sight just as erotic as it had always been.

“Fuck, gonna nut,” he groaned, causing Rachel to grind her hips even faster.

“Give it to me, daddy, fill me up with it!”

There was no objection, and as he roared, I watched his ball tense up while his cock pulsed, pumping what was sure to be another giant load, only this time into my wife. The two of them finally pulled apart, breathing heavily and moaning as his cum gushed from her opening. I stood by smiling, probably rather creepily, but no one said anything.

Then, as my wife cuddled under his arm, stroking his soft cock with her hand, Santa reached to the nightstand and lifted a photo frame he had been staring at.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“Our daughter,” I answered, grinning as he gawked at the image of our sexy teenager, “She’s staying with her grandma right now, but she’ll be back in a few days. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

He seemed shocked but excited.

“How old is she?” he asked.

“Sixteen,” my wife purred, rubbing his cock harder, “But we won’t tell if you don’t.”

Looking at me, I nodded to confirm what Rachel had said. He laughed, and put the picture back, dropping his head to the pillow and closing his eyes.

Yes it was another Christmas, and as always we had found a way to bring joy to someone less fortunate than ourselves. It’s what I love about the holidays, helping others.

“Ready to swap, honey?” Rachel asked, sitting up and stretching.

“Only if you are.”

“Yeah, I think my pussy needs to rest a minute, go ahead.”

The black Santa was confused, but his confusion quickly turned to horror as I began undressing, dropping my shirt and pants, exposing the black laced panties I was wearing along with my plastic cock cage. The black man screamed as I stepped forward.

“Okay, Santa, It’s my turn to sit on your lap.”


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