Bed Time Stories

Special thanks to my editor - @kenjisato. He helped me with quick, easy and apt editing.

"She actually believes you're the real Santa," Soniya said, twisting the cap off her beer.

The hiss of carbonation filled the quiet living room. Outside, snowflakes stuck to the window in uneven clumps, glowing under the streetlight.

Vishal flexed his fingers, still stiff from wearing the scratchy white gloves earlier. The Santa suit lay half-spilled from his duffel bag--cheap red velveteen with fake fur trim that smelled like mothballs and someone else's sweat.

"Jini is sharp," he admitted, watching Soniya's throat move as she swallowed. "Kept checking my belly, to see if it was real or not."

Soniya snorted, beer foaming over her lip. She wiped it with the back of her hand, leaving a wet streak on her wrist. The clock ticked again. Another minute closer to midnight, another minute of her husband not there. The silence between them thickened like the snow piling up on the sill.

Vishal, who was a struggling actor and a part-time tutor, saved the day by dressing as Santa on his student's birthday. It was supposed to be her dad, who comes up as Santa, but just like every other cliche Christmas story, he had to go on an emergency call.

Vishal leaned forward, elbows on knees. The couch springs creaked under him.

"You, okay?"

The question hung between them--too intimate, maybe.

But the way her fingers drummed against the beer can said she wasn't.

Soniya blinked, as if remembering where she was. "Just tired."

She set the can down hard enough to dent the coffee table veneer. A drop of condensation rolled off, landing on her bare thigh. She didn't move to wipe it away.

Vishal's gaze flickered to the hallway, and next to that entrance was Jini's room. The muffled hum of the nightlight spilled under her door--pink, he remembered, shaped like a cartoon cat.

"Kid's out cold," he said, just to say something. The words sounded stupid the moment they left his mouth.

Soniya stretched, arms arching over her head. The hem of her sweater rode up, exposing a sliver of skin above her leggings-- The soft curve of her stomach, the dip of her navel. Vishal swallowed and looked away-- but not fast enough. She caught him staring. Instead of pulling her shirt down, she let it linger there, stretching another second longer than necessary.

"You keep staring at me like that," she murmured, voice low, "Santa might have to put you on the naughty list."

"Yeah, right." He played it off.

Soniya sighed softly, and said, "It's been a while since I had a good pounding."

Vishal's pulse kicked hard against his ribs. The air smelled like pine needles and the faint tang of spilled beer. He could see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric, the way her breasts shifted as she leaned forward, plucking at a loose thread on the couch.

"It's getting late--" he started.

But she cut him off with a sharp laugh.

"Why? Someone is waiting for you at home?" she asked, her voice brittle.

This was not sudden-- Siniya had had her eyes on Vishal for a long time. He was young, strong, and more importantly, his body was fit and fine, not like her saggy husband.

It would be a lie to say Vishal also thought Soniya to be a little too sexy and young for a mother in her mid-thirties. Vishal started having flashbacks of the times she flirted with him, grabbing his ass or even complimenting him on how his girlfriend would react if she saw his secret assets.

It had been all fun and games, until he could see a hidden wanting in her eyes.

Her fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, tracing the edge with deliberate slowness.

"Truth to be told, I was looking forward for a chance to--" she said, before stopping mid-sentence.

The fabric slipped under her nails, revealing a sliver of his waist. Her thumb brushed skin--warm and rough. Vishal's breath hitched.

Then her mouth was on his--sudden, insistent. Beer-bitter and heat. The couch groaned as she straddled him, fingers twisting in his hair. Her hips ground down, the friction making him groan into her mouth.

"Wait, no, we shouldn't--" he managed, but she bit his lower lip, silencing him.

Her tongue swept over the sting, tasting copper. The Christmas lights strung across the window, flickered, casting her face in erratic red and green.

Licking her lips, she said, "Being a housewife is tough, we also need some fun in life."

She pulled her t-shirt off, throwing it on the floor, then she yanked his shirt up, nails scraping his abs. The air hit his skin, cold where her hands weren't burning. His own fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra--too many hooks, too little coordination--until it gave way with a snap. Her breasts spilled into his palms, heavy and warm. She arched into his touch, a sharp inhale when his thumbs found her nipples.

"What if he--" he started.

She cut him off again; this time, with her hand down his pants. The squeeze was rough, purposeful. His hips jerked.

Then she was kneeling, the carpet fibers scratching her knees under the leggings. The zipper of his jeans screeched open. The smell of sweat and pre-cum rose between them, thick and musky. She didn't hesitate--just peeled the fabric down, her breath hot against his stomach before her mouth closed over his dick. Wet heat covered his dick slowly. The suction made his vision white out. She gagged once, throat fluttering around his dick, then she swallowed deeper. The bob of her head was messy, desperate; drool slicked his thighs.

Vishal gripped the couch cushions, the cheap upholstery bunching under his fingers. His hips jerked involuntarily. She moaned around him, the vibration traveling straight to his balls. When he dared to look down, her mascara was smudged, and her erect nipples were rubbing against the edge of the couch; her free hand shoved between her own legs, the fingers working furiously. The slick sound of it mixed with the wet noises of her mouth was a sensual harmony to her ears.

She pulled back just enough to swirl her tongue around his dick head, her lips glossy with spit and pre-cum.

"Fuck," she panted, thumbing her clit in quick circles. "Young cock tastes so--"

Then she dove again, taking him deeper this time. Her nose pressed into his pubes. The stretch of her lips, the scrape of teeth--it was messy, almost painful, but also sexy.

Vishal's thighs trembled. His balls drew up tight, heat coiling low in his gut. The pressure had built too fast--he barely had time to gasp before he was coming, thick pulses shooting straight down her throat. Soniya groaned around him, swallowing convulsively. A trickle escaped the corner of her mouth, milky white cum against her flushed skin.

When she finally pulled back, her lips glistened. She held his gaze as she opened her mouth slowly--tongue curled, showing the pearly cum stretched between her teeth. Some dripped onto her chin. She wiped it with two fingers, then sucked them clean with a pop.

"Mmm," she hummed, licking her lips. "Your cum tastes better than eggnog."

Vishal watched, transfixed, as she turned around, her leggings already halfway down her thighs. The lace of her underwear clung to her ass, damp with sweat and something else. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband, peeling it down, inch by torturous inch, until her cheeks jiggled free--full, flushed, the lights catching the faint stretch marks along the curve. She bent forward, forearms braced on the coffee table, the wood groaning under her weight. The scent hit him first-- musk and salt and the sharp tang of her arousal soaking through the crotch of her discarded panties.

His fingers dug into her hips, kneading the flesh as he lined himself up. The first push was slow--he felt her clench around his dick tip, the resistance giving way with a wet gasp, as her body yielded. Heat and pressure mixed with the tightness around his dick that made his toes curl. Her moan was muffled against her own arm, her back arching as he sank deeper.

"Fuck," he breathed, the word shuddering out of him.

She was slick, her muscles fluttering around his dick in erratic pulses. He withdrew almost completely, just to feel the drag of her walls clinging to him, then drove back in with a snap of his hips. The slap of skin echoed off the walls.

Soniya gasped, her fingers scratching on the glasses. Her tits swayed with each thrust, her nipples still stiff, weighting to be touched again.

They changed position, with Soniya then bending over the couch. Vishal leaned over her, his breath hot against her shoulder as he pistoned into her. The angle shifted, he pushed deeper, and she cried out, her body jerking.

"There--right there--" she panted, her voice cracking.

He could feel it too.

The way her cunt clenched around him, the sudden gush of wetness coating his thighs. He had found her G-spot. He hooked an arm under her, pulling her up against his chest, her back flush to his front. One hand found her throat, not squeezing, just holding--the other slid between her legs, his thumb circling her clit in time with his thrusts.

Her orgasm hit like a warm ray of sunshine on a cold winter morning. She thrashed, her ass cheeks quivering, and Vishal felt the strangest sensation--a wet, fluttering pressure against his dick with each inward stroke. Then the smell hit him-- musky, salty, thick with sex. Soniya whimpered, burying her face in the sofa pillow as her asshole spasmed around nothing, each contraction pushing out tiny bursts of air mixed with stinky, loud farts. The obscene squelching only drove him wilder. He fucked her through it, his hips stuttering as her cunt milked him mercilessly.

"Don't stop," she slurred, drunk on pleasure, her fingers clawing at the couch cushion.

Another wet pop from her ass made her giggle deliriously, the sound muffled by the sofa pillow. The wet patch under her belly grew darker, her thighs slick where she'd pissed herself in ecstasy.

Vishal's thrusts grew erratic, his balls slapping against her swollen clit with every drive forward. A particularly vicious snap of his hips punched another burst of air from her ass--warm and wet against his thighs. The scent of sex and fart hung thick between them. Soniya arched suddenly, her back bowing off the cushion as another orgasm ripped through her. Her asshole fluttered open in tiny, involuntary pulses, leaking creamy streaks down her inner thighs with each contraction. Vishal groaned, his fingers digging bruises into her hips as he chased his own release.

She twisted beneath, and made him change their position, as she straddled his hips in reverse cowgirl. The shift forced him impossibly deeper, her slick walls clamping down in rhythmic squeezes. Her ass bounced with reckless abandon, the slap of flesh echoing off the bedroom walls. Each time she came down, her swollen lips swallowed him whole, hot, and tight, like a kulfi.

Vishal palmed her ass cheeks, spreading them wide to watch his dick vanish inside her glistening cunt. His thumb circled her puckered hole, pressing in just enough to make her gasp, before retreating a cruel tease that had her grinding harder against him.

Soniya arched back, nails raking down her own stomach as she rode him.

"Look," she panted, fingers spreading her folds to show where their bodies met-- his cock gleaming with her juices, her pussy stretched obscenely around him.

Her hips rolled in slow, filthy circles, milking him with deliberate strokes. Vishal groaned, gripping her waist--the urge to spill inside her overwhelming. He slapped her ass, leaving a red handprint blooming across her skin. Then, without warning, he shoved two fingers into her asshole--her cry of pleasure only broken by a choked moan, as her body clenched around both intrusions.

Her thighs quivered, slick with sweat and cum.

"Deeper," she gasped, collapsing forward onto all fours.

He pushed impossibly further inside--he could feel the bulge of himself inside her through her taut stomach. She pressed back onto his cock like she was trying to fuse them together.

"Fill me--yes--"

Vishal's hips stuttered, losing rhythm as the tight heat of her dragged him toward release. She keened when he bottomed out, his balls slapping against her swollen clit with each desperate thrust.

The angle changed--her ass lifted higher, knees sliding apart on the damp couch sheets. The new position made her cunt clench around him in slow, filthy pulses. Vishal groaned, watching his cock disappear into her glistening folds. He could see everything--the way her inner lips clung to him, the way her asshole winked with each withdrawal. His fingers, still buried in her, crooked upward--her scream was muffled by the sofa pillow as her body convulsed, squirting across the cushions in a hot rush.

Soniya's thighs trembled violently.

"Oh fuck--" she gasped, her voice cracking as Vishal worked his fingers deeper.

The squelch was obscenely loud-- of wet skin, the slap of flesh, and the gush of fluids. He pulled his hand free, glistening with her juices, and smeared it across her ass cheeks before gripping her hips again. The first thrust was brutal--her body jolted forward, her tits swaying wildly. She moaned, low and broken.

The couch hammered against the wall in a frantic rhythm. Vishal barely registered the squeak of Jini's bedroom door down the hall, too focused on the way Soniya's pussy clenched around him, how her thighs trembled when he pushed deeper. Her breath came in sharp, punched-out gasps.

Vishal's vision blurred--heat coiled at the base of his spine, too fast, too soon. He gritted his teeth, trying to stave it off, but she clenched around him deliberately, her cunt pulsing like a greedy mouth.

"Shit--I'm gonna cum."

He barely got the words out before his hips stuttered, his balls drawing up tightly against her clit, as he came in thick, hot spurts. Soniya whimpered, her fingers twisting in the cushion as she ground back against him, milking every last drop.

His release leaking from her swollen lips, Vishal collapsed forward, his chest pressed to her sweat-slick back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Beneath him, Soniya trembled, her thighs quivering where they bracketed his. She shifted slightly, and he felt it--the warm trickle of his cum seeping out of her, dripping onto the rumpled sofa covering. The sight sent a fresh jolt of heat through him, even as his dick twitched, oversensitive.

He was about to kiss the damp curve of her shoulder when a sound froze them both--small feet padding against hardwood.

Jini's voice, sleep-soft and curious, drifted through the half-open door, "Mommy? Did Santa leave yet?"

Vishal's heart lurched into his throat. Moving faster than he thought possible, he rolled off Soniya, snatched his jeans from the floor, then the bag in which his costume was shoved in and dove behind the sofa just as the living room door fully pushed wider open.

Soniya quickly grabbed the shawl from the side of the couch, and pulled it to her chin with one hand while the other smoothed her riotous curls. The shawl did little to hide the flush spreading down her chest, or the musk of sweat thickening the air.

"Baby!!" her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "Santa had to deliver presents, remember?"

Jini blinked, rubbing sleep from her eyes with tiny fists. Her nightgown was twisted at the waist, one strap sliding off her shoulder.

"But I didn't hear bells," she mumbled, swaying on socked feet.

Soniya's fingers dug into the shawl. She could feel cum leaking out and rolling down under her thigh.

"Reindeer have silent hooves now, remember? For stealth missions." She forced a chuckle that sounded brittle, even to herself.

The clock on the wall read, 2:37 AM.

Jini's socked foot scuffed against the hardwood as she turned. "Oh." A yawn stretched her tiny face. "Will Santa visit Daddy at the hospital too? I told him to tell him come home quickly."

The question hung in the air like the scent of sweat still clinging to the cushions. Soniya's throat tightened. Behind the sofa, Vishal's shoelace scraped against the floorboards, too loud in the quiet.

Soniya forced a laugh, fingers twisting in the blanket. "Santa's really busy tonight, sweetheart." She jerked her chin toward the hallway. "Let's get you back to--" A wet spot on the sofa cover spread beneath her thigh. She shifted quickly, trapping it under her knee.

Jini's eyes flickered to the lump beside the sofa, and then she asked,

"Mommy, why is your t-shirt on the floor?"

Soniya's hand flew out of the shawl, and she quickly picked up the shirt. The shawl slipped, revealing a little bit of her left breast. Vishal held his breath, the carpet fibers prickling his bare ass. A single reindeer-shaped ornament dangled from the ceiling, swinging faintly from their earlier--activities.

Jini blinked once. Twice. Then yawned with cartoonish exaggeration.

"Okay." She shuffled backward, dragging her stuffed unicorn by one leg. The door clicked shut.

Silence pooled between them like spilled wine. Soniya exhaled through her nose--long, controlled. The Santa hat's fur trim tickled her bare thigh.

***

Jini swung her legs under the breakfast table, syrup-glazed fingers clutching her new plush reindeer.

"And Santa had a smaller belly!" she announced, kicking Riki's shin with a socked foot. "Smaller than daddy's!"

He looked at Soniya with confusing carefree eyes.

Later, when he asked, Soniya said, "My friend's brother. He came in at the last minute, to save the day. He is more reliable than you, belling on us at the last moment."

Riki gave a sorry-mixed-with-excuse smile, as Soniya pushed the mug toward him. The 'World's Best Husband' mug steamed in her hands, as he raised his hand, and said, "My belly bigger!"

They all started laughing.

-×-×-×-×-×-×-

Thank you so much for reading--I hope you had fun. This short story is part of my Bedtime Stories collection, so if you enjoyed this one, make sure to check out the others too.

Thanks again for your time, and wishing you all a very Happy Christmas and joyful holidays.