“Can I sit on your lapSanta? I’ve been good.”I sat on the couch next to her and she mounted me likea pony. Next she proceeded to rid... me as she frenchedme through my beard.“So tell me little girl does Santa’s beard taste likepussy?”“Oh yes Santa it does, and it smells just like my pussytoo.” She started ridding me harder as she came oncemore and then I did too. Except for her panties and my pants around my ankles wewere both still dressed, of. More often than not, I’d touch myself, pretending it was her hands slowly undoing the buttons on my pajama tops, the tips of her fingers brushing between my breasts, stroking my tummy, tracing long my hip bones, slipping beneath my waistband to explore the wonderland between my thighs… “Hey, silly. You coming with?” I blushed, realizing that the bus was pulling up the curb near my house. Grabbing my pack, I slid from my seat and followed her off the bus, wondering if she ever thought of me. More

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