The Erotic Adventures of Mrs. Claus

If you think delivering thousands of toys is hard, try banging fifty thousand elves in one night

In the days before Amazon, there used to be these things called “malls,” and during the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas, these places were nightmares for the people who worked there. Such is life for Santa’s elves, only their lives have actually gotten harder since the inception of Amazon. Who do you think is filling those sketchy Amazon warehouses?

For minimum wage and a hunk of stale bread, those poor little guys work 36 hours a day, 10.5 days a week — something that is only possible in the North Pole (it has something to do with being so close to Earth’s axis of rotation — also magic). So why don’t they quit? Because Santa offers quite a generous Christmas bonus.

Though to be fair, it’s not really Santa who pays the bonus. See, while he’s flying all over the world delivering toys to all the gentile boys and girls, Mrs. Claus is banging every single elf on his payroll.

I know what you’re thinking: that’s a lot to ask of his wife. The thing is Mrs. Claus loves it. In fact, if it were up to her, she’d be fucking those sexy lil’ guys 547.5 days a year. But she and Nick have discussed it and they’ve decided the elves wouldn’t be properly motivated if they were getting laid that often.

And so, they work their asses off for that one magical night.

“Have a great ride, Dear,” Mrs. Claus says, planting a kiss on Santa’s rosy cheek.

“You, too, Sugar Plum.” He grabs a handful of her plump ass before jumping into his sleigh.

The entire workshop watches from the window until the soft red glow of Rudolph’s schnozz disappears over the horizon. With a clap of her doughy hands, Mrs. Claus addresses the crowd.

“Ok, gang, who’s ready for some Christmas cheer?”

The workshop erupts with thunderous applause. As exhausted as they are, they always rise to the occasion once Mrs. Claus shimmies out of her fleece uniform and reveals her sexy lingerie.

This year, it’s a sheer red corset with giant wreaths for brassiere cups that encircle and lift her enormous breasts. Meanwhile, her tiny thong is shaped like reindeer antlers which provides a subtle glimpse of her pussy lips.

“You look stunning, Mrs. C,” says Hogant, the foreman.

“Thank you, Dear,” she says, booping him on his little button nose with a chubby, long-nailed finger.

As with most biographies, the Claus story has been white-washed by Hollywood. In real life, Mrs. Claus would be played by Octavia Spencer, not Kathy Bates. She’s got a lot of elves to please, but she’s a lot of woman. Also magic.

Tradition states that the foreman gets to go first. Hogant peels off his green tights to reveal a throbbing erection that is significantly longer than any of his other appendages. He has to lean back to keep from falling forward.

“My goodness, Hogant, has your dick gotten bigger since last year?”

He blushes. “Why, yes it has, Ma’am. I’ve been doing cock push-ups. Thanks for noticing!”

“Let’s see if I can still get my lips around it.”

She lifts him under the arms as though he was a shoebox full of feathers and sits him down on the closest work bench, which is the height of a standard coffee table. Two other elves rush over to put a plush pillow down in front of it to provide some padding for her knees.

She begins by gently stroking his shaft, getting reacquainted with the throbbing cock she’s missed so much over these long months. When it twitches, she has to duck as though someone is swinging a baseball bat at her head. She squeezes it at the base and watches the head turn bright purple. Not exactly a Christmas color, but it’s hot nonetheless.

She teases the tip with her tongue, letting the minty fumes fill her nostrils. Though elf dicks look like gigantic Yule logs, they taste and smell like candy canes. Suffice to say, blowing elves really clears your sinuses.

With little time for fucking during the rest of the year, elves build up quite a lot of sexual tension. As a result, they don’t last very long. In Hogant’s case, it takes three licks for Mrs. Claus to reach the center of his pleasure. As his balls begin to tighten, she releases him.

“I can tell you’re about ready to pop,” she says, “so I figured I’d ask you where you wanted to cum.”

“That’s very kind of you, Ma’am. I think I’d like to cum in your mouth.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I skipped lunch today, so I’m famished.”

She takes him back into her mouth, this time bringing her lips all the way to his base. The head of his cock tickles the back of her throat as he blasts his salty load into her belly.

She then swallows the sauce, which literally tastes like turkey gravy. The flavor pairs surprisingly well with the minty sweetness of his dick skin. Once she has finished guzzling every last drop, she burps, pats him on his little tushy, and lets him rejoin the group where he receives high fives and a mug of hot cocoa.

“Bip and Bap,” she calls. “You’re next.”

The two elves are only a year out of toy-making college and they’ve demonstrated a lot of promise — both when it comes to toy-making and fucking. They work very well as a team, which is why she called them over together. It’s time she got serviced as well.

She sighs with delight as they each suckle at one of her plump tits while Bip warms up her pussy and Bap teases her asshole. It’s too early in the batting order for real assplay, so Bap only goes in up to the first knuckle of two fingers. She’s already moist, so Bip doesn’t have to be quite as gentle. He rubs her engorged clit like a DJ scratching a vinyl record.

“My goodness, that feels amazing,” she coos.

While they play with her holes, she takes a cock in each hand and jerks them until they are stiff. They are on the smaller side for elf dicks — a mere eight inches in length — but she learned a long time ago that it’s better to start off small when it comes to actual penetration. It’s going to be a long night and she needs to ease into things.

Once she’s worked them into a frenzy, Bap lubes up with coconut oil and slides his cock where his fingers had been — into Mrs. Claus’s backdoor.

“Go slow, Dear,” she says.

But Bap didn’t need to be told. Elves are incredibly sensitive and dexterous from working on such delicate toys all day long. He crawls into her colon like a snake shedding its skin. Meanwhile, Bip enters her pussy with the same tender loving care.

They coordinate their thrusts, one going in while the other is pulling out as though they are sawing a log with one of those two-man crosscut saws. The sensation makes her whole body tingle. She could cum like this — if only they were able to keep it up.

Unfortunately, as slow as the two elves are going, it’s still too much stimulation for their inexperienced cocks. They both blow their wads simultaneously, filling her with so much cream that it nearly spills out of her eyes.

Now that she’s warmed up, she can take on three at once: one in the puss, one in the tush, and one in the mouth. Faldie, Jodor, and Holax step up to the plate. Already hard from watching the show, they jump right in. Faldie, the veteran, starts in the cunt while Jodor takes the rear, and Holax fucks her pretty face.

She breathes deeply through her nose, calming herself as the elves do their stuff. Though she is oxygen and sensory-deprived, it’s thrilling beyond words. Her ass is widening, adjusting to the friction. Her pussy is soaked. Drool trickles from the corners of her mouth.

The three change positions, giving each elf a shot in each hole. Finally, with Faldie in her mouth, Jodor in her ass, and Holax in her pussy, they finish inside her, not simultaneously as their predecessors, but in a 1–2–3 staccato of joy. It’s like the finale of a great symphony.

For the next round, she adds her two hands to the mix, allowing her to satisfy five at once. They are all new hires, and to be honest, she doesn’t know their names and is too embarrassed to ask. They do make a heck of a first impression, though, with their hard, powerful cocks and their voices like angels.

It turns out they are an a cappella group. As they bust their nuts inside her, they belt out the most beautiful version of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” she’s ever heard.

She takes on the entire North Pole basketball team next. Where does the sixth cock go? Right between her juicy jugs.

It’s been ages since she’s tittyfucked anyone, and she enjoys it immensely. The only bummer is that with all of her other holes filled, she can’t really see when she’s getting a nice pearl necklace. She ends up with so much cum on her chin that it looks like Santa’s beard.

At 3:47 a.m., she realizes a hard truth. The only way she’s going to get through everyone before dawn is to do seven at a time. That means adding her feet, which is even more difficult than it sounds. In fact, for any other woman anywhere else in the world, it would be absolutely impossible. Luckily, she has Christmas magic on her side.

Seven at a time, elves come and go, filling her, covering her, satisfying her. She looks like a melting snowman by the time the final elf approaches.

“Grodak, is that you?” she asks, squinting through her jizz-covered spectacles.

“It is, Ma’am. Long time no see.”

At 798 years old, Grodak is the oldest member of Santa’s staff. He actually retired a quarter of a century ago, but the workshop fell so behind this year, they needed every able-bodied elf to come in and lend a hand. He didn’t mind. He missed the culture — especially the Christmas bonus.

At nearly four feet tall, he towers over the other elves. He’s also shredded and handsome, like Sylvester Stallone in his prime. If anyone can make Mrs. Claus cum, it's good ole’ Grodak.

“Get over here, you little stud.”

He leaps into her arms and gives her a deep, wet kiss before sticking his boner into her sizzling pussy. Unlike his inexperienced peers, he knows how to last. The two old lovers go slow, savoring every gyration of the hips. He caresses her sticky breasts while she runs her hands across his rock-hard abs.

The other elves watch the master at work, taking mental notes on his tried and true sexual maneuvers. They are nothing if not great students, and they will all make better lovers next year.

“Don’t stop, Grodak,” Mrs. Claus gasps. “I’m going to cum!”

A hush falls over the crowd. This is the part they’ve been waiting for all year: the big finish. Everyone is so enthralled that nobody notices the golden light trickling in through the windows.

Dawn.

And right on schedule, the double doors burst open.

“Ho, ho, h — Oh, damn you’re still going,” Santa says.

Mrs Claus pauses to give him a welcome-home wink before returning her attention to Grodak.

Not wanting to interrupt, Santa tiptoes to the corner to watch the ending unfold. But as his wife builds to her orgasm, he’s not content to sit on the sidelines. He takes out his dick, spits in his hand, and starts jacking off.

It is the sight of her husband masturbating that finally puts Mrs. Claus over the edge.

“Oh, God, I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Her body quakes like a bowl full of jelly as Christmas Spirit spills out of her.

Grodak finishes soon after, though his grunts of pleasure are drowned out by Mrs. Claus’s howls. Ever the gentleman, he steps aside when he sees Santa approaching.

“Don’t stop on my account,” the big man says. “I just wanted to get a closer look.”

“Nonsense, Sir,” Grodak says, bowing to his boss. “I believe it’s your turn.”

“What do you say, Santa, dear?” Mrs. Claus says. “Wanna give me a nice Christmas facial?”

“Why, I thought you’d never ask.”

The queen locks eyes with her king and sticks out her tongue as though waiting to catch falling snowflakes. Santa strokes her round cheek with one hand as he jerks his cock to fruition, pumping gallons of hot cum into her mouth.

The room erupts into thunderous applause.

Once everyone has had a chance to clean up, the Post-orgasmic Christmas Ball begins. While the rest of the world is opening presents, the folks in the North Pole party hearty. After months of back-breaking labor and one night of intense fucking, where do they find the energy? It’s a Christmas miracle.

Another sexy Christmas story by Ryan:

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