She wrapped her fingers around my rod, gripping it firmly, trying to work her fingers all the way around it through the fabric of my pants.“Here, le... me help you with that,” I say, as I unbutton my pants and pull out my hardening penis.Sara whispers in my ear, “Show us how you jack off.”Stephi coos “Show us!”I change hands, encircling my shaft with my left hand. My grip starts at my pre-cum moistened tip, sliding easily down over the wrinkle of my head, down my entire shaft and then pressing. And again, that extra heft wasn't fake. He was also short, much shorter than the teen's six foot one. He wore a red suit trimmed in white. He wore a black belt and boots. Boots with a little unmelted snow on them.“What the fuck's going on here?”“Tush, tush,” the man chided. “Watch your language. Don't you know who I am?”“You look like fucking Santa Claus.”“Exactemente, mon jeune fils! Except, between you and I, I prefer Kris Kringle. You may call me Kris.”“I don't fucking believe this.”“Again. More

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