Podcasts about Celibacy

Erin and Sasha continue the series about the Yamas and Niyamas, with a discussion on Brahmacharya, or sexual abstinence, and Aparigraha, or non-possessiveness. Send us a textFor 20% off Kerala Ayurveda products, use code OjasOasis at checkoutFor 20% off GarryNSun products, use code OJASOASIS20 at checkout Receive $500 off your Panchakarma retreat at SoHum Healing Resort with code OjasOasisPK2025 Support the showTo learn more about working with us, please visit www.OjasOasis.com Connect with us @ojasoasis on Instagram, X, TikTok, and YouTube

Encore Podcast: Continuing through the Book of Matthew - starting at Chapter 19:1. This message was originally given during our Saturday Shabbat Service by Messianic Rabbi Frank Davis on July 8, 2017.

Miracle On Route 34: Part 1 Ginny gets a wonderful Christmas surprise. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Author's Notes: Someone asked me to write a funny and erotic Christmas tale, but since I can't be normal, it is taking on a radical twist that I hope people will find amusing. I've tried to make Santa awesome but also give him some flaws that the ladies will find both charming and irksome all at once. I wasn't going to call it anything lame like 'Here Cums Santa Claus' (in spite of my love of Elvis) so I eventually settled on ripping off a classic and beloved Christmas movie, naming it 'Miracle On Rural Road 34'. Couldn't help myself with the 'Yes, Virginia' quip, of course. As for Superman, Oatmeal and the Easter Bunny, well, get used to more groaners like that, because I like them. Merry ho-ho and keep your stick on the ice! , Management Chapter 1. Ginny Hale sighed forlornly as she sat on her chesterfield in the dim room, the only light provided by the crackling fireplace and some scented candles spread around to make the house smell like gingerbread. She'd made gingerbread cookies earlier, but they were predictably burnt and now her kitchen smelled like a Christmas elf's ass. She took another sip of red wine from her oversized glass, unable to decide who or what to be mad at, the weather, for bringing this god-awful blizzard on Christmas Eve, her so-called friends for ditching her after she'd gone to all this work to put together a nice party, or herself for going crazy and buying this (admittedly nice) chateau way out here in the boondocks. Still relatively new to her negotiator position, Ginny had landed a huge deal for the company she worked for and the payout bonus was one of the biggest ever seen in-house. Though she had an office, she had often worked from her cramped apartment downtown, where a glorious chaos only she understood reigned. But the payout had been large enough for her to purchase a very pretty home in the country, not more than ninety minutes from work. Her boss was so pleased with the deal that he said she only had to come in once a week, to pick up whatever she needed to work on. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she found she was quite lonely. Few people were will to put forth the effort to come out and visit her. In fact, only three had since the summer when she bought it. Hell, even her boy-toy, Chad from Accounting, could not be bothered and was now just fucking Lily in the secretary pool instead. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' to her while she moped. The big bay windows to her back porch showed the fury of the storm outside. Driving snow had been battering the countryside for two days now and her boss had called her to just stay safe and not try to come into the city. He was a nice old man and she liked him. He'd actually taken a chance and given her the job, after she'd fucked him. She hadn't invited him to her little soiree, because his miserable old bat of a wife was hovering around him constantly these days, certain he'd been tipping on her. But even without Old Man Reese, she'd invited upward of twenty people and none of them had shown. Not even Claire, her best supposed friend, had made it out. She was probably too busy being pinned and screwed by her boyfriend anyway, Guido or Nunzio or whatever his name was. Dean Martin came on, singing 'Marshmallow World'. Normally this was one of her favorites, but tonight it just reminded her that she was alone for Christmas. Again. With another sigh, she drank the rest of the wine in her glass and reached for the bottle, turning it over. It was empty. Damn. She'd have to open another one. She walked slowly into the kitchen, wearing her ratty old fox-themed footie pajamas, having decided that if she didn't have to dress up for anyone, she was dressing at all. She took a deep drink of spiked egg nog from the jug of it she'd prepared while she found another bottle of zinfandel and burped very loudly. She wrestled the cork off of the bottle and poured most of the contents into her oversized glass, muttering that she didn't have to answer to anyone about what she did, she was a big girl. She slumped back down on the couch while John Lennon asked her what she'd done for Christmas from the stereo system. "Up yours, John;" she said testily as she drank more wine. She stood unsteadily, blinking for a moment to try and clear her head. She might have had a bit of a wine fog going on, since she'd nearly polished off two bottles of Old Vine Zinfandel in under two hours. Convincing herself that walking was not a bad idea, she tottered over to the bay windows, reaching a hand out in front of herself to make sure it encountered the glass before her face did. "Will you look at that shit out there;" she muttered to no one in particular. After all, there was no one around to hear her. Well, almost no one. "Hi, Oatmeal," she said sweetly, grinning lopsidedly at the bearded dragon that sat in a terrarium near the bay doors. "Looks like you're my Christmas date; again;" The tiny lizard said nothing but assumed a darker shade of purplish brown. "Same to you too, bugface." Ginny muttered sourly, annoyed at being spurned by a reptile with a brain smaller than a sugared peanut. She lumbered back to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to eat several pieces of the Turkish Delight she'd tried to make, but they were sticky and runny, most of the reddish-pink mess ending up stuck to the front of her pajamas. "Son of a fucking reindeer!" she spat, attempting to remove the pajamas, her sticky fingers having trouble with the zipper. She finally kicked the thing off and left it in a corner of the kitchen, now wearing nothing except her panties and a halter top. She stomped back into the spacious living room, thoroughly annoyed. While the music played, she looked around for something to do, taking another pull from the egg nog jug she'd brought with her. The hot tub. It sat near the bay windows, set into the floor and was large enough for five or six people. She'd been hoping that maybe a few people of the dozens she'd invited would show and maybe they could have a fun pool party. She'd even told everyone in the invitations to bring their swimsuits. But of course, no one showed. She was beginning to suspect she could live in Buckingham Fucking Palace and still no one would come to see her. This was, literally, the fifth Christmas she'd spent by herself. The timing for friends never worked out and her parents were always off in Monaco or some such place, avoiding the weather. Her mom had already called earlier that night, so she wouldn't hear any more from them for a few days now. She sighed yet again and pulled off her underthings, stepping into the water. She was drunker than she wanted to admit, though, missing her footing, squealing and tumbling into the tub with a splash. Ginny came to the surface, sputtering and hissing in outrage. Why couldn't anything work out? Oatmeal just stared at her impassively. "You win this time, gravity;" she growled, displeased with her inelegant entrance. Well, at least she'd been smart enough to put down the jug of nog before trying to get in. She turned on the jets and retrieved her beverage, taking another big pull as the tub rumbled to life. Ginny laid back her head against one of the padded rests and tried to relax, to let her frustrations go. She turned on the jets and allowed one to massage her lower back while sipping at a glass of wine. She tried to put the frustrations of the holiday behind her, to let go of the feelings of rejection and somehow not belonging. "Why did I but this new fucking home if no one was interested in visiting? Everyone said they thought it was so great, but months later, still no visitors. Do I really not matter that much?" It annoyed her to think not only that she was alone, but that doubtless most of the people who had ditched her were at home getting laid. Claire was doubtless face down and ass up on her bed, getting plowed from behind by Guido. Even Mr. Reese, the old geezer, was probably getting some, either from his wife or maybe one of his secretaries. She sighed heavily and sat up, putting her now-empty wine glass aside and deciding that just because she was alone on Christmas Eve didn't mean she wasn't owed at least one good orgasm. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the padded edge of the hot tub, positioning herself so that one of her jets, the one she'd named 'Juan', was right behind her. She felt the flow of water begin to caress her and she rested her head on her forearms as she wiggled further back, feeling the jet more strongly now as it pushed against her ass and her cunt. With a sigh, she found the perfect distance and pressed her face down into her arms, letting Juan work his magic. Water pressure massaged her cunt lips, strong enough to part them and to tease her clit, sending thrills through her. She shuddered and sighed loudly, forgetting, for now, how much men sucked. She bit the knuckle of her index finger, lost in reverie. God, if only it were a man fucking her. "Alone; on fucking Christmas; where's, ah!, where's the justice in that?" She was sweating now and panting as the relentless jets battered her nether tinglies, the sensations overwhelming her steadily. She clenched her teeth and her fists, straining as she fought to hold on a little longer. She moaned very loudly, her whole body shaking as Juan delivered a wonderful orgasm. She panted and groaned shamelessly, knowing that no one was around to see her in her pent-up, frustrated lust, expending it on her Jacuzzi jets. The scintillating lights behind her eyes, however, were over all too quickly and the climax subsided, replaced by a juddering sensitivity that made Juan's caress too much to bear. She collapsed against the edge of the hot tub, moving her ass away from the jet. "Alone; again;" She may have needed the orgasm, but it did nothing to improve her mood. It didn't help that the song 'This Christmas' by Shoes had begun playing as the cumming ended. When it finally felt like her legs would work again, she turned around and slumped into a corner of the tub, as far from Juan as possible. Ginny stayed still for some time, until her feet and fingers felt that annoying level of pruny that made everything awful to touch. With the heat of the water and all the alcohol she'd drunk, she was feeling rather light-headed, so she turned off the stereo and shut off the lights. She found a plate of her fucked-up and burnt gingerbread cookies and left them on a table near the fireplace along with the jug of nog before beginning to head upstairs to bed. "Yeah. Fuck this day. And fuck tomorrow too. Maybe if I stay drunk enough it'll just fly by. Fuck Christmas." The second floor was an open space in the middle, looking down onto the main floor. A set of stairs led up on either side and the bedrooms were spaced around the gallery. She'd loved the design when she bought it, but this only increased her frustration when no one ever came to visit. "Gorgeous fucking house; ten acres of beautiful nature filled with deer and ugly-ass wild turkeys; a fucking pond people could skate on; shit, I even found a patch of landrace back there! What's not to love about my new home? Why aren't people shitting themselves in jealousy?" She reached the master bedroom, sighing at how big it felt since she had no one to share it with. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her naked body and sighing. She was trim and fit, with nicely-sized boobs, she kept her cunt shaved smooth and her full lips were simply made to suck cock. Her skin was fair and even and her dark brown hair was long enough to pull on if you were fucking her ass or taking her from behind. So what the hell was wrong? The bed was certainly big enough for two (or maybe her and two guys who didn't mind getting close), but she plunked herself down into it and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop drunk-spinning. It took longer than she wanted it to, but things finally slowed down an she breathed deeply. She reached over with her hand and fumbled around inside the drawer of the nightstand. She finally withdrew an elegant glass dildo, a barely opaque white with bright red stripes curling around it to simulate a candy cane. It had been a Christmas gift from Claire, who had jokingly given it to her until she found a man for herself. That bitch. "Well, Frosty," she sighed, examining him. "Looks like it's you and me tomorrow. I promise to not get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or get more booze, okay? Because I'm here for you;" And with that she kissed the dildo and put it aside. She turned out her lamp and sighed deeply as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. "Fuck Christmas;" A noise from downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. She was sure she'd heard something. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, reasoning that she'd been drunk and it might just be hangover noises. Maybe just something like branches scraping on the roof or across the walls? Ginny felt a flush of anger and slowly rose, getting out of bed and putting on a plush yellow robe. There were definitely sounds downstairs. She grabbed her rape whistle and her high-school field hockey stick off the wall before quietly opening the door and proceeding out of the room. Her cheeks flushed with fear and anger. How dare someone invade her house? And in this fucking weather! "Burglars? Ruffians? Escaped cons?" "Well, at least if they see you they might have their way with you and break your dry spell." She shook the vile notion from her head, wondering where the hell that'd come from. Could she be that desperate to get laid? Ginny walked as quietly as she could, hearing noises on the roof. Raccoons? Looking to get in from the cold? Fucking trash pandas. She rounded the corner of the gallery and put her foot on the top step, her hockey stick ready. She crept down the stairs, still hearing the noises. They seemed to be coming from her living room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify anything that might be amiss. Then she saw him, a symphony of red trimmed in white, the huge ass swaying back and forth as the intruder was bent over her at the base of her Christmas tree, doing God only knows what to it. He seemed to be humming to himself. She walked up silently until she was maybe ten feet away from him, her hockey stick over her shoulder, ready to swing. He didn't hear her or took no notice of her. "I don't want to hurt you," she growled through clenched teeth. "But you'd best get the fuck out of my house or I'll hit you so hard Google won't be able to find you." The person in red paused in their activities and then stood up slowly. After another moment's pause, they stood up and turned around slowly. He was slightly taller than average and quite a bit fatter than societal norms allowed. He had a fat face with dancing blue eyes and red cheeks. Beneath the tapered red hat was long, silvery-white hair and a very full beard and moustache. The intruder looked at her and grinned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a voice that could only be described as jolly. Ginny said nothing. She seemed to be rooted to the spot. She wanted to say something, anything, but she seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech. "W, who;" she finally managed to stammer. "Yes, Virginia," the visitor said quietly but pleasantly in a soothing voice. "There really is a Santa Claus." She blinked and shook her head, trying to articulate a coherent thought. The big man in red chuckled, clearly amused by her predicament. "Your egg nog was very good," he mentioned as he walked forward a little. "Your cookies needed a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe a cookbook next year?" "Stay still!" she snapped, suddenly coming out of her stupor and holding the hockey stick behind her head as if she was winding up for a hit. "I'll deck you, old man!" "Oh, there's no need for that," he said cheerfully, totally unconcerned by her threat. "It's been a rough year for you, hasn't it, Ginny?" "Why do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of course I know it," the man claiming to be Santa said jovially. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I didn't, right?" "If you're really Santa," she said tightly, still not understanding why she hadn't knocked this guy's head off his shoulders yet. "Then what was I doing the night of October seventeenth last year?" He tilted his head to the side a little and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" "C'mon, you haven't got all day." "Very well," he said, sighing. "You were sitting in McPhearson's Pub, waiting vainly for Greg from IT to show up, because you'd given him a blowjob in the bathroom earlier that day and promised him more. But he went off with Becky from Accounts that night instead of meeting up with you." She blushed furiously at the memory. "I; that wasn't the day I meant! I meant the sixteenth!" He shrugged. "You had the day off and were really frustrated. You slid a condom over that very field hockey stick and used it on yourself, just to see what it was like." Ginny dropped the stick very suddenly. "How the hell do you know that, you perv?" The man shrugged. "I know all about you, Ginny. And every other boy and girl in the world" "Don't give me that horseshit!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I had too many Christmases where I didn't get what I want to buy into that cockamamie story!" "Well, you weren't exactly the most exemplary child, were you?" he reasoned. "I mean, you weren't horrible, it's not like you were out kicking puppies into woodchippers, but you spent more time in the naughty column that the good column, didn't you?" "What did I ever do that was so naughty?" she demanded hotly, her fists bunched up at her sides. "You and your brother could get rather friendly, couldn't you?" the man calling himself Santa pointed out. She faltered for a moment. "Lots of siblings play doctor. And those atomic booty bombs where I kept jumping in the air and landing on him were just playful." "While naked?" Santa asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. Ginny blushed. "But that wasn't what landed you on the naughty list," he added. "What got you blacklisted was that you lied about doing your homework or cleaning your room while you were messing around with your brother. Your mom and dad would ask you to do your math and you'd slip away to play doctor instead and tell them you'd finished your homework after. Lying is naughty, right?" "Woah, hold the phone here," she said loudly, holding her head as if she was suddenly dizzy from a revelation. She didn't seem to notice that her robe had opened slightly, exposing her cleavage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fibbing to my parents kept me from getting the gifts I wanted?" "Were the rules unclear?" Santa asked. "I thought the songs on the subject were so easy to follow." Ginny pinched her eyes in exasperation and then scowled at him. "I'm drunk," she concluded, trying to convince herself none of this was real. "I'm drunker than Sarah Palin and you're not really here. I'm still in bed and this is all bullshit." Santa shrugged. "I was putting stuff under your tree until you arrived and enjoying the nog. I won't mind if you go back to bed." "No, you're not getting off that easily," she said in annoyance. "You broke into my house in the middle of the storm of the fucking century and I want answers, dammit!" He shrugged. "Fair enough. Ask away." Her eyes narrowed again. "Aren't you on kind of a time crunch? Unless I'm the last person on your delivery list, don't you still have a shit ton of houses to visit? Say, a few hundred million?" He waved it off. "I've got it covered, I promise. I have all the time in the world for you, Ginny. I always have." "What, so you sub-contract out?" she said snidely. "Got FedEx making the rounds for you? Or maybe your 'Elves'?" She mentioned the last bit with air quotes. "Goodness, this has been a bad year for you, hasn't it?" he said sympathetically. "But to answer your question, I am capable of being many places at once." "Oh, so now you're the Kwizatz-Haderach?" she asked archly. "Hey, it's not just cinnamon I put in my Christmas cider." Santa chuckled. "It's rather complicated to explain." "So do you, like, clone yourself?" she asked, her guard seeming to slowly come down. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It involves Cherenkov Radiation, a Holmes field, a Gellar field and, to quote a friend of mine, 'a lot of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey; stuff.'" "So it's some sort of deep quantum shit?" she asked, her body finally relaxing. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it's very temporal and quantum. I can be many places at once. It's why I don't have to pay for billions in window repairs every year by going supersonic around the world." "So even while you're talking to me, you're delivering presents?" she asked, the sheer depth of the conversation hitting her now. She walked over to a stool and sat on it. "Like I said, it's difficult to explain without breaking out the chalkboard and calculator," he answered. "The magnetic lines between the poles help, especially the one that emanates from the Fortress of Solitude." Ginny blinked. "Fortress of Solitude? As in Superman? You're friends with Superman?" "Of course not!" the jolly man laughed. "There's no such thing as Superman, silly, he's a comic book character. Had you going, though." "Holy shit, Santa's a troll," she exclaimed, looking at him in bewilderment. "Well, okay, let's assume that this is all real and not a vivid hallucination resulting from a brain tumor. If I've been such a brat all these years, how do I make up for it? How do I get off the naughty girl list?" "Well, a little restraint would be a start," Santa suggested. "I'm not saying go out and become a Carthusian nun or a Buddhist priestess or anything, but you might try laying off the rampant promiscuity." "Why is that so bad?" she demanded. "What's so wrong with wanting to get banged?" "Nothing," he said simply. "But inevitably you get yourself into some kind of weird situation and end up lying your behind off and lying is a naughty thing to do. So try keeping your legs bolted together a little more." "Really;" she said, clearly not impressed. "Celibacy lessons from Santa Claus. Now I've heard everything." "According to my report here and speaking frankly, it's taken guys a lot less attractive than me a lot less effort to get you out of your clothes." Santa mentioned. "This coming from a guy who could clearly use a few P90-X sessions!" she shot back hotly, standing up, her robe opening further as she stomped toward him. He looked down at himself for a moment and guffawed. "Oh, right, I keep forgetting about that; hang on;" The man held his hands out to his sides and began to glow. The luminous display lit up the room progressively and Ginny held her hand in front of her face when it became too bright to look at for several seconds. When the light finally died away, leaving them once again in the softly lit living room, Ginny gaped in shock at what she saw. He was tall, powerfully built, with chiseled muscles, an eight pack and flawless, healthy skin. He'd removed his coat but the red pants remained, stretched tight over muscular thighs. Long, wavy, copper-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the full beard was reddish-gold. The sapphire-blue eyes stared down at her, still glittering with mirth. "Holy Jesus on a pogo stick;" she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're a total lumbersexual;" "This is what I really look like," he said, spreading his hands out to the sides and showing her his body. His chest rippled as the muscles flexed with the motion. "But kids react to the fat old man disguise better." "I'll bet mothers don't," she murmured, coming forward as if compelled and reaching out to touch his chest and washboard abs. "It's like you're Photo-shopped." He smiled as her hands caressed his abs. "You make me want to not get off the naughty list." "I think I know what you really want for Christmas;" he said slyly. Ginny paused and looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" "No, I can't lie." the man in red pants replied. "I thought it was Superman who couldn't lie." "Well, the writers had to get that idea from somewhere, I guess." Santa mused. "In any event, if you want, you could end up on the good girl list by being rather naughty." She stared at him. "So; get laid by Santa for Christmas?" He shrugged. "There might be some other goodies in the bag for you, but I think we both know what Ginny really wants and needs for Christmas." "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" she thought to herself, wrestling with her sensibilities. "If this is all just a dream, then I can fuck hunky Santa and have no regrets. If this is real, I can fuck sexy Santa and remember it in the morning! It's win-win!" "Well, this is super-easy," she declared. "Santa, I want you to fuck my brains out for Christmas." "With pleasure, Ginny!" he said, laughing merrily. "Whatever you like, however you want it. I have to keep the kiddies happy." "Good, but just don't say 'kiddies' anymore, because that's kinda creepy," she said, throwing her caution to the wind. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on the oversized silver belt buckle and undoing it. Letting it drop, she put her fingers on the front of his pants, caressing them over the crotch. Her mouth went dry. "That'd better not be a secondary present sack you're teasing me with;" Ginny hooked her fingers into the top of the velvety pants and pulled them down, revealing his cock. She drew in her breath slowly, her eyes widening. "Jesus," she muttered. "You're hung like a fat kid's Christmas stocking;" "Thanks, I make due." Santa said cheerfully, watching her admire his cock. "By the way, shouldn't I call you something else?" she asked, looking up at him while her hand reached up to take his huge shaft, wrapping around it, barely. "I mean, most people call you Santa Claus, but isn't your name Nick or Kris or something?" He shrugged again, grinning. "Nick, Kris, Klaus, Pelznickel, Joulupukki, Kanakaloka, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weihnachtsmann, Swiety Mikolaj, Hoteiosho, Jultomten, I don't mind, Ginny. I just like hearing you say my name the way you think of me." "Hmm, Santa;" she replied, smiling as she stroked her hand along his shaft, eyeing it hungrily. How the hell was she going to fit that all in her mouth, forget her aching cunt? "Ah, don't use that word," he chided, holding up a finger. "Some words are still naughty, even when you're an adult." "Stay out of my mind then, creeper." Ginny said as she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the fat head of his cock. She flicked it around the tip and then slowly took it inside her mouth, tongue rolling against it. "The hell? How can his cock taste like mint?" "Just wait til you taste my cum." Santa said, leering. "Fine, but it better not taste like turkey gravy or we're gonna box." Ginny said as she pulled her mouth back for a moment. She pumped her hand gently along the shaft, studying her quarry intently. It was definitely the biggest cock she'd ever taken on, and the best-tasting. She'd been experiencing trippy magic all evening, maybe she could fit this monster in her mouth this one night; She put the head back in her mouth and relaxed, slowly pushing down the shaft. She moaned as she felt him slide to the back of her mouth and then to her throat. She felt him tremble and lay a huge but gentle hand on the back of her head. "Holy shit; I'm deep-throating Santa Claus;" Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and then tried to relax. Her whole body was tingling with excitement and the whole minty cock thing was throwing her off. Her tongue undulated along the underside of his shaft while the fingers of one hand formed a ring around the base of his cock and the other cupped his balls, fondling them. Ginny was proud of her cocksucking skills and if there was anyone she ever needed to impress with them (aside from her 11th Grade math teacher), it was probably Santa. She calmed herself and began pulling her mouth back along his length, humming and letting her lips vibrate softly on his sensitive skin. "Now I know why Mister Bondi gave you that A in math," Santa chuckled. "You're a very naughty girl, Virginia." "Hmm, only for you, Santa baby;" she cooed as she pulled her mouth off his cock long enough to respond, stroking slowly and swirling her tongue around the head again. She then slid back down the entire length, moaning in pleasure. She could feel her nipples getting hard and her cunt was very, very wet beneath her robe. Both his hands were on the back of her head now and holding her gently but firmly. She began to slowly bob back and forth, thrilled at how she was able to take this enormous beast of a cock all the way in her mouth. Sure, maybe there was some weird physics involved that compressed space and time or some shit, but she didn't care and he certainly didn't seem to mind. "Hmm, very good, Virginia;" he said softly, stroking her hair. No one ever called her Virginia and she didn't know why it gave her a tingle when he did. His cock was very full and very hard now, like a pulsing iron rod covered in mint-flavored velvet. She almost giggled at the thought of how crazy this all was. She really hoped it wasn't a dream. Her thumb began to squeeze along the underside of his cock as her hand followed her mouth up and down his length. The shaft glistened wetly and the mint was making her drool. She undid her robe and let it fall away, the air of the room kissing her flushed skin. Her hands now took hold of his powerful thighs and she began moving back and forth along his cock more quickly. She could feel his hands flexing in her long, dark hair, caressing her skin. Breathing through her nose, she moaned as she sucked ardently, her cunt almost aching with desire. She was hoping he would last long enough to fuck her when he went rigid suddenly and groaned, gripping her head tightly and his hips shuddering. Ginny's eyes widened as she felt him began to cum inside her mouth, spurting strongly. She began swallowing hastily, almost in a panic as Santa pumped his hips against her face. "Holy shit! Fucking eggnog?" He kept cumming and she was sure she might actually drown when he pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and pumped it furiously in his hand, spattering her tits and stomach with his glistening load. She'd never seen so much cum in her life. It tingled on her skin. Finally, Santa relaxed, allowing Ginny to put her mouth back around his cock and suck the rest of his cum from him. He was sighing and breathing rather heavily, apparently having enjoyed himself. She eventually released him and smiled up at him wickedly. "So," she cooed, winking while she gently pumped his cock with her hand. "Am I back on the good girl list?" "Oh, I'd think so," he said, grinned. "But it's not like I've given you your whole present yet." "Jeez, you can still go?" she asked almost in disbelief but also delighted. She really needed to be fucked hard now. "Your cock taste like mint, your cum tastes like nog, your ass probably tastes like hot cocoa or nutmeg and you can keep it up all night?" "Up all night is kind of my thing, at least once a year." Santa said cheerfully. "So how would you like for me to give you the rest of your present, Virginia?" "Well, golly, Santa," she mused, making a show of thinking while she stroked his cock. "Since you seem to be the gift that keeps on giving, how about we just wing it?" He nodded and she stood up, keeping hold of his cock and gently led him over to the large chesterfield, hoping it would hold his rather muscular frame. She knelt on it, resting her arms along the raised back and smiled at him, wiggling her behind. She wouldn't believe how wet her cunt was. "You gonna hurry down my chimney, Santa-baby?" she asked, smiling slyly. "I can't believe you just said that!" he laughed jovially. He may not have been older, fatter Santa, but the laugh still definitely suited him. He stepped up behind her and took gentle hold of her hips. She could feel him press against her ass and she shivered in anticipation. He slid his massive cock up and down between her ass cheeks, teasing her until she was writhing in desperation. He seemed to know instinctively what she loved most. Which only made sense, since he was Santa. "Ready, Virginia?" he asked as he pressed the huge mushroom head against her sticky cunt. She nodded eagerly, unwilling to speak. He slid the head in, parting her lips and penetrating her. She groaned loudly as he began to stretch her inner walls. With a slow, steady push of his hips, he pushed the entire length of his cock deep inside her. It robbed her of her breath, she'd never felt so full in her life, even that one time she'd been so horny she'd fucked her parent's bedpost. "Ah; uh;" she gasped, eyes wide. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced. His cock completely filled her to a delightful stretch that didn't hurt except in the good way. His iron shaft throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was wonderfully warm but also strangely cool all at once, tingling, like mint again. How the hell could her cunt taste peppermint? "Language, Virginia;" he chided again as he pressed in just a little bit further. By right his cockhead should have bruising her brainstem, but there was no doubt some weird physics shit involved that she decided not to think about. She was getting fucked by Santa, after all. She pressed her forehead against the back of the couch and tried squeezing her cunt around his titan cock or pressing back against him, squirming her ass against his hips. She shuddered in delight, loving how he felt inside her. His hands reached under her body and squeezed and massaged her tits, sending delicious thrills through her. He began to move slowly back and forth, pulling back until just the tip was inside her and pushing in steadily, almost robbing her of breath. She began to feel like a blacksmith's bellows very quickly. The feel of his cock sliding inside her, stretching her and touching deep inside in ways she hadn't known were possible; "Oh my god;" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the couch. "You're tearing me apart and I love it;" "Only the best for my Virginia," he said, his ruddy cheeks taking on a flush tone as he fucked her. Her fingers squeezed the meat of her thighs and hips or flexed on her ass cheeks. His heavy balls slapped against her cunt as he drove inside her. Strong yet gentle, forceful and commanding yet accommodating. She felt dominated yet exalted somehow. His hand wrapped in her hair and she groaned loudly as he pulled on it, craning her neck. She shuddered in pleasure, feeling her spine almost accordion as he thrust inside while pulling her head back. Her could feel the pulse of his cock through her whole body. Her nails scratched along the couch, almost clawing it. "Uh, you're gonna make me cum so fucking hard;" she wailed, feeling the sweat forming on her skin. "Oh my gawd;" "You're going to make me cum hard too," he panted, thrusting deep inside, thumping his hips against her ass. "You feel wonderful and tight, Virginia;" "Oh, God, he's gonna cum in me;" she realized. "Santa's gonna fucking cum in me and he's not wearing anything! Will my birth control work? Shit, will my kids always smell like mint?" "Oh, God, cum in me!" she panted, thrusting herself back against him and grinding shamelessly. "Fucking cum in me, Santa!" "Ya want me to cum in you?" he hissed, his body beginning to tremble. It felt like his cock was getting bigger inside her. "Want my cum in you?" "God, yes!" Ginny squeaked, clenching her teeth. "Fucking cum in me and make me scream!" They strained against one another desperately and then she cried out as a massive orgasm crashed over her. It battered her senses as she felt his hot-yet-tingly-cool cum bathing her insides relentlessly. Her cunt was making greedy sucking sounds as she came, her whole body shuddering almost uncontrollably. She squeezed and clenched and rippled her tight tunnel round him, reveling in the way he stretched and penetrated her ever more deeply. She collapsed against the chesterfield, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. His massive, hard cock was still deep inside her, pinning her to him. She felt like she was made of lead, an exquisite exhaustion while pleasure crawled over her languidly. That was beyond anything she had ever experienced. But he didn't seem to be done with her. His powerful hands took hold of Ginny and turned her around so she was squatting on the couch, her knees spread wide and her arms slung across the high back. She looked up at him in weary astonishment as he nestled himself between her legs and pressed his cock against her sopping cunt again. "Ah!" she wailed as he slid deep inside her again, his huge cock splitting her wide. Her nails dug into the couch again and she clenched her teeth as she sucked in her breath. Ginny tried to regulate her breathing while Santa began sliding in and out slowly, looking down at her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Jesus," she grunted, feeling almost like a rag doll in his hands, which gripped her hips. "Gonna fucking kill me with that thing!" "Oh, let's hope not," he replied, thrusting into her strongly. "I'm nowhere near done with you." She gazed up at him, trembling as he fucked her good and hard. She bit her lip as he squeezed her thighs, before moving his hands up to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples. She groaned shamelessly as the delicious sting electrified her senses. She tried to squeeze herself around him, baffled by how big he felt inside her. She gasped and whimpered as he slapped her cunt lightly. She reached forward and raked her nails over his powerful chest, leaving red marks along the defined muscles. She ground her hips against him wantonly, thrilling to the look of pleasure on this face. "Uh, fuckin' wreck me;" she gasped, feeling another massive climax building inside her. "Make me cum on that beautiful cock, Santa!" "I'll take 'Things Virginia Never Thought She'd Ever Hear Herself Say' for a thousand, Alex!" he laughed. He reached down and took her ass her hands and pulled her closer, smiling warmly yet wickedly into her eyes as she sank further onto his cock, which penetrated her to the deepest depths yet. She could feel the head pressing against her womb. It didn't hurt, but she felt fuller and more stretched than ever. She felt him squeeze her ass cheeks while he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight, bumping up and down on his powerful thighs. She moaned loudly and bit his shoulder, trying not to shriek. She tried to squeeze herself around him again, finding that she could barely control her muscles, let alone fuck. She bit down as the warmth spread through her, tears of pleasure in her eyes. He thumped his hips against her even more strongly and they strained against one another. Then he growled and released himself, pumping her once again full of his tingling cum. She shuddered and cried out loudly, her head spinning from the unreal ecstasy. Crushing herself to him, Ginny held on desperately, like a ship battered by an unrelenting storm. They both slumped onto the couch, breathing heavily. She felt small and almost cocooned in his embrace. She was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat and could feel the thrilling tingle of his cum trickling out of her cunt. It wouldn't be a stain on her couch, it was a mark of honor. Their hearts pounded in rhythm as the orgasm passed over them and slowly flowed away. "Holy shit;" she whispered, her body still limp in his arms. "I think you've ruined me for sex. I should be mad;" "You have to admit, it makes sense that I'm better at gift-giving than anyone else on the planet." Santa reasoned, smiling and stroking her hair while she sat in his lap. "I'd say you were a little pent up there." "Mild understatement," she moaned, finally raising her head and smiling up at him. "Thank you, first of all. That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." "I aim to please," he said cheerfully, caressing his thumb across her cheek and enjoying the shining look in her eyes. "Kinda my thing, after all." "So," Ginny purred, walking to fingers up his broad chest. "Is there a Mrs. Claus?" He shrugged. "There has been, of course." She paused suddenly and looked up at him, her smile replaced by a deadpan look. "What do you mean, there has been?" He seemed somewhat confused by her change in demeanor. "Well, there has been a few in the past, of course, there was Seeki first, then there was Ahoop, followed by Annalina, then Layla, Martha, Juliana, Gretchen and Jessica, Santarina, Kasey, Mary;" "I see," she said stonily. "You've had more wives than Elizabeth Taylor had husbands." "Well, to be fair, they've been spread over a long period of time." Santa replied. "And they were all special to me." "So then I'm not special." Ginny said flatly. "Well of course you are," he said, not understanding her mood swing. "You're my Virginia." "And Becky down the street is your Becky, and Sarah in the blue house is your Sarah and Hilda in Dusseldorf is your Hilda," she concluded. "Everyone's equally special to you, aren't they?" He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair," she sighed. "I just; well, I thought maybe this; ya know, tonight, was truly special. And clearly you're not good at lying." "Well, no, not at all." Santa agreed, still holding her and wondering how he could comfort her. "I can't lie." "Like, literally can't?" she asked, now curious more than anything. "It's part of your genetic makeup that you can't lie?" "No, nothing like that," he admitted. "But after spending centuries with kids and teaching them to always tell the truth, I haven't tried telling a lie in so long I don't even know how to do it." "You don't know how to lie?" she mused. "If I did, it wouldn't be the least bit believable," he said. "Like, if I said right now that your breath smells wonderful and not like old eggnog and vomit, I somehow doubt you'd believe my lie." "No shit," Ginny replied, giving him a stony look. "You're a horrible liar. You've got the subtlety of a cement truck. Good thing you're Santa and don't have to date to charm a girl." He held her close, hugging her tight to comfort her. She sighed deeply, still impaled on his hard cock, which showed no sign of abating. "God, I can't believe you've still got wood after cumming like a fire hydrant three times," she said, her mood softening. She was having the best sex of her life, she reminded herself not to ruin it by being crazy. "How long can you keep going?" He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "How long do you need me to?" "Actually, it doesn't surprise me that's your answer." Ginny said, smirking. "If you've got the time, I've got another itch that needs scratching." He grinned. "So you haven't broken in that hot tub yet, have you?" "Oh, Santa;" she purred, leaning in and biting his earlobe. "Like you don't make me wet already." He picked her up and carried her toward the Jacuzzi, deftly turning it on with his foot and bringing it rumbling to life. He stepped down into the churning water, setting her one of the seats. As he stood up, she leaned forward and hungrily took his enormous cock into her mouth, sucking ardently. She moved forward and knelt in the water, her hands on his hips again or stroking his balls. He picked her up bodily and turned her upside. Ginny squeaked in surprise at first but found his hips in front of her and began sucking again on his tool without delay. He buried his face in her cunt, tongue snaking deep inside her and she groaned gutturally, Holding her in place with one powerful hand, her teased her taint and then pressed a finger into her ass. "Jesus!" she gasped, almost choking on his cock as he wormed the finger down into her tight tunnel. "Oh, fuck! Your finger is bigger than some dicks I've fucked!" She attacked his cock again eagerly, bobbing back and forth like her life depended on it. She squirmed in his grip as he lashed her cunt with his tongue and fingered her ass. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and her knees locked around his neck. His cock throbbed in her mouth, still thrilling her with its unique and incredible taste. He turned her around again and paid her on the edge of the hot tub, spreading her legs wide. She looked on wantonly as he pushed his tongue back inside her again. He gripped her thighs to hold her in place and she groaned and squirmed, squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her to the limit of her sensations. Ginny shook and thrashed as she cried out loudly, cumming on his face. He didn't let up, lapping at her essence eagerly. She lay like a dead thing for several seconds before her chest began to rise and fall. Her eyes opened, gazing back at him. She couldn't feel her limbs, just floating on a tingling ocean of deep colors. Santa looked up at her and smiled, pulling his tongue out of her cunt and kissing her clit gently. She shivered at the touch. "One hole left, Santa," she breathed, her body glistening. "Got any left in you to perfect my Christmas?" "Always for you, Virginia." Santa said warmly, standing and raising her gently into a sitting position. He settled down into the water on one of the seats and then pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him. She moved her hips around until she found his rock-hard cock, waiting for her. She placed her puckered knot against it, giggling as she thought about what he was about to do to her. She took his shaft in her hand and held it steady while she sank down, very slowly. Ginny gasped and shivered as the head pushed aside the tight ring of muscle, popping inside her. Then she sighed as she lowered herself, feeling his massive cock stretching her tight tunnel wide. God, she felt so full it was unreal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her ass cheeks pressed to his lap. He was all the way inside her ass and her held her closed as she settled back against him, purring in sensual pleasure. "Umm, it's never felt this good in my ass before," she said softly, her arms reaching back to curl around his neck. She gyrated slowly on his lap, moaning softly. "A gal could get used to this." His muscular arms wrapped around her and caressed Ginny's body, massaging her tits. She loved how she felt pinned to him. She had finally found the measure of her body and began to squeeze her tight ass around his cock. She squirmed in slow circles on his lap, wishing she had some music to fuck him to. Her stereo system suddenly came on and began playing 'It's Cold Outside'. She giggled and squeezed his neck gently at his thoughtfulness. "You think of everything, don't you?" she purred, lost in her pleasure. "I can't wait to make you cum again." He smiled wickedly and pulled gently on her nipples, causing her to groan at the welcome sting. She pressed her ass back into his lap, squeezing again around his throbbing shaft. The water bubbled and churned around her waist, the heat leaving her skin shining. She began to pant as she moved her hips faster, stopping the circular motions and started to move up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. Santa took hold of her hips and let her bounce on his lap. Ginny leaned forward, gasping as she fondled her tits, overcome with a liquid heat as his cock impaled her faster and faster. Water splashed around them as the fucking took on an almost frantic pace. Ginny had never felt anything in her ass like this before, nothing even close to this good. She could very easily become an addict. "Uh, fuck!" she grunted, slamming her ass down on him while one hand snaked down and began massaging her cunt and clit. His hands steadied her and helped moved her up and down. She could feel his hips trembling beneath her, his fingers flexing and squeezing her skin. Her panting became a long, drawn-out keening. She clenched her teeth, shuddering and straining as she tried to prolong the fucking; Ginny screamed and pushed herself back against his massive chest violently, thrashing as she clenched his cock inside her ass while he came. His cream flooded inside her, the unreal hot-cool tingling transporting her. He growled in her ear, almost crushing her comparatively tiny frame against himself. She collapsed, utterly exhausted, her chest rising and falling as the world spun around her. She felt him holding her gently, caressing her body in unique ways that seemed to; regulate her blood flow and nerve sensations, making the post-orgasmic bliss she was feeling last as long as possible. She felt herself smile and hum at his consideration, understanding this this is who he was and what he was meant to do. Ginny then did something she almost never did during sex, she leaned her head back, pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply and with great affection. She held it for as long as she could and then sank back into his embrace, sighing in contentment. "Wish you were advertising for a Mrs. Claus at the moment," she said softly. "I could get used to this." "I like things the way they are," he replied, hugging her. "Every year I get to reward you for being a good girl. What could be better than that?" "True, I guess," Ginny agreed. "I'm only human, all this sex could kill me." "Hey, I'm human too, you know," he chuckled. "Just because I'm immeasurably older than you and subject to quantum laws even my smartest elf couldn't explain doesn't mean I'm a member of some other species." "Okay, that's fair, although I'd still fuck you if you were an alien or some extra-dimensional being." Ginny admitted. "You've come in me a lot tonight, daddy. Do I need to” "No," he said cheerfully. "I'm not sterile, but you can't get pregnant unless I decide you will and I've never allowed it." "I wonder what a Santa kid would be like," she mused. "More like you or the mom?" "No idea," he confessed. "There's not exactly a manual, so I've never taken a chance." She slowly leaned forward and began to rise, shivering as she slid off his long cock and it popped out of her. She knelt and turned around to face him, not sure she could stand yet, looking up at his still hard cock and giggled, pressing her finger against the head. "Well, I think you can take him off duty, sir," she said sweetly. "I'm pretty sure that I'm all fucked out for the night, if not the whole season." He chuckled and let his cock soften, looking into her eyes and caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that was what you needed for Christmas." "Definitely, Santa." Ginny said, giggling. "Is it greedy to want the same present again next year?" "Not at all," he replied, grinning. "It cuts down on elf-labor hours if I can give people a gift mysteriously." Santa paused in speaking, going silent and looking around, as if listening for something. Neither of them touched the controls, but the motor for the jets turned off and all that could be heard was the howling roar of the winter storm outside. Ginny looked at him in confusion, wondering why his features hardened and a scowl crossed his normally jovial face. "That's no storm," he said in a low, growling voice. "Not a regular one, anyway." "What does that mean?" she asked, his reaction worrying her for reasons she couldn't readily explain. What the hell was a 'not regular' storm, according to Santa, or anyone else for that matter? He stood up and strode out of the hot tub, taking her by the hand and pulling her out with him. Their naked bodies glistened with water but this was the farthest thing from her mind. "What's going on?" she asked, his consternation beginning to frighten her now. She watched as he tossed her the robe she'd been wearing earlier and then started pulling on his pants and sturdy black boots. "It's just a winter storm! Isn't it?" "I wish that were true," he replied, his expression grim. "Listen to me very carefully, Virginia. I'll need you to follow me instructions precisely. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Okay, but” "Good," he said, cutting her off, his eyes flashing. "It's very important to your safety." "Can you at least tell me what's happening?" she pleaded. "Krampus." Santa muttered darkly as he wrapped bright red straps around his wrists, tightening them. "I should've been more careful." "What's Krampus?" she asked, going pale and she paused in putting on her robe, one of her tits hanging out. "Krampus isn't a what, Krampus is a who," he said, his eyes scanning the layout of her expansive living room. "He's also called Black Pete in some places and legend says he's supposed to be my evil henchman who punishes wicked children." "I take it that's not true, then?" she asked, looking around like he did, wondering what he was searching for. "Not even close," he growled. "Pardon my French, but Krampus is an evil sonofabitch. He was, at one time long ago, my dedicated helper, but he turned down the path of darkness, becoming twisted and diabolic. Forget punishing children, he wants to destroy Christmas, like it never happened." "What's that got to do with us here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Can he reach us in this storm?" "This storm is his doing, I recognize it now," Santa said, striding over to his huge Christmas bag and beginning to rummage in it. "A massive storm always precedes his arrival. It can be mistaken for a regular winter storm if you're not paying

Miracle On Route 34: Part 1 Ginny gets a wonderful Christmas surprise. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Author's Notes: Someone asked me to write a funny and erotic Christmas tale, but since I can't be normal, it is taking on a radical twist that I hope people will find amusing. I've tried to make Santa awesome but also give him some flaws that the ladies will find both charming and irksome all at once. I wasn't going to call it anything lame like 'Here Cums Santa Claus' (in spite of my love of Elvis) so I eventually settled on ripping off a classic and beloved Christmas movie, naming it 'Miracle On Rural Road 34'. Couldn't help myself with the 'Yes, Virginia' quip, of course. As for Superman, Oatmeal and the Easter Bunny, well, get used to more groaners like that, because I like them. Merry ho-ho and keep your stick on the ice! , Management Chapter 1. Ginny Hale sighed forlornly as she sat on her chesterfield in the dim room, the only light provided by the crackling fireplace and some scented candles spread around to make the house smell like gingerbread. She'd made gingerbread cookies earlier, but they were predictably burnt and now her kitchen smelled like a Christmas elf's ass. She took another sip of red wine from her oversized glass, unable to decide who or what to be mad at, the weather, for bringing this god-awful blizzard on Christmas Eve, her so-called friends for ditching her after she'd gone to all this work to put together a nice party, or herself for going crazy and buying this (admittedly nice) chateau way out here in the boondocks. Still relatively new to her negotiator position, Ginny had landed a huge deal for the company she worked for and the payout bonus was one of the biggest ever seen in-house. Though she had an office, she had often worked from her cramped apartment downtown, where a glorious chaos only she understood reigned. But the payout had been large enough for her to purchase a very pretty home in the country, not more than ninety minutes from work. Her boss was so pleased with the deal that he said she only had to come in once a week, to pick up whatever she needed to work on. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she found she was quite lonely. Few people were will to put forth the effort to come out and visit her. In fact, only three had since the summer when she bought it. Hell, even her boy-toy, Chad from Accounting, could not be bothered and was now just fucking Lily in the secretary pool instead. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' to her while she moped. The big bay windows to her back porch showed the fury of the storm outside. Driving snow had been battering the countryside for two days now and her boss had called her to just stay safe and not try to come into the city. He was a nice old man and she liked him. He'd actually taken a chance and given her the job, after she'd fucked him. She hadn't invited him to her little soiree, because his miserable old bat of a wife was hovering around him constantly these days, certain he'd been tipping on her. But even without Old Man Reese, she'd invited upward of twenty people and none of them had shown. Not even Claire, her best supposed friend, had made it out. She was probably too busy being pinned and screwed by her boyfriend anyway, Guido or Nunzio or whatever his name was. Dean Martin came on, singing 'Marshmallow World'. Normally this was one of her favorites, but tonight it just reminded her that she was alone for Christmas. Again. With another sigh, she drank the rest of the wine in her glass and reached for the bottle, turning it over. It was empty. Damn. She'd have to open another one. She walked slowly into the kitchen, wearing her ratty old fox-themed footie pajamas, having decided that if she didn't have to dress up for anyone, she was dressing at all. She took a deep drink of spiked egg nog from the jug of it she'd prepared while she found another bottle of zinfandel and burped very loudly. She wrestled the cork off of the bottle and poured most of the contents into her oversized glass, muttering that she didn't have to answer to anyone about what she did, she was a big girl. She slumped back down on the couch while John Lennon asked her what she'd done for Christmas from the stereo system. "Up yours, John;" she said testily as she drank more wine. She stood unsteadily, blinking for a moment to try and clear her head. She might have had a bit of a wine fog going on, since she'd nearly polished off two bottles of Old Vine Zinfandel in under two hours. Convincing herself that walking was not a bad idea, she tottered over to the bay windows, reaching a hand out in front of herself to make sure it encountered the glass before her face did. "Will you look at that shit out there;" she muttered to no one in particular. After all, there was no one around to hear her. Well, almost no one. "Hi, Oatmeal," she said sweetly, grinning lopsidedly at the bearded dragon that sat in a terrarium near the bay doors. "Looks like you're my Christmas date; again;" The tiny lizard said nothing but assumed a darker shade of purplish brown. "Same to you too, bugface." Ginny muttered sourly, annoyed at being spurned by a reptile with a brain smaller than a sugared peanut. She lumbered back to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to eat several pieces of the Turkish Delight she'd tried to make, but they were sticky and runny, most of the reddish-pink mess ending up stuck to the front of her pajamas. "Son of a fucking reindeer!" she spat, attempting to remove the pajamas, her sticky fingers having trouble with the zipper. She finally kicked the thing off and left it in a corner of the kitchen, now wearing nothing except her panties and a halter top. She stomped back into the spacious living room, thoroughly annoyed. While the music played, she looked around for something to do, taking another pull from the egg nog jug she'd brought with her. The hot tub. It sat near the bay windows, set into the floor and was large enough for five or six people. She'd been hoping that maybe a few people of the dozens she'd invited would show and maybe they could have a fun pool party. She'd even told everyone in the invitations to bring their swimsuits. But of course, no one showed. She was beginning to suspect she could live in Buckingham Fucking Palace and still no one would come to see her. This was, literally, the fifth Christmas she'd spent by herself. The timing for friends never worked out and her parents were always off in Monaco or some such place, avoiding the weather. Her mom had already called earlier that night, so she wouldn't hear any more from them for a few days now. She sighed yet again and pulled off her underthings, stepping into the water. She was drunker than she wanted to admit, though, missing her footing, squealing and tumbling into the tub with a splash. Ginny came to the surface, sputtering and hissing in outrage. Why couldn't anything work out? Oatmeal just stared at her impassively. "You win this time, gravity;" she growled, displeased with her inelegant entrance. Well, at least she'd been smart enough to put down the jug of nog before trying to get in. She turned on the jets and retrieved her beverage, taking another big pull as the tub rumbled to life. Ginny laid back her head against one of the padded rests and tried to relax, to let her frustrations go. She turned on the jets and allowed one to massage her lower back while sipping at a glass of wine. She tried to put the frustrations of the holiday behind her, to let go of the feelings of rejection and somehow not belonging. "Why did I but this new fucking home if no one was interested in visiting? Everyone said they thought it was so great, but months later, still no visitors. Do I really not matter that much?" It annoyed her to think not only that she was alone, but that doubtless most of the people who had ditched her were at home getting laid. Claire was doubtless face down and ass up on her bed, getting plowed from behind by Guido. Even Mr. Reese, the old geezer, was probably getting some, either from his wife or maybe one of his secretaries. She sighed heavily and sat up, putting her now-empty wine glass aside and deciding that just because she was alone on Christmas Eve didn't mean she wasn't owed at least one good orgasm. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the padded edge of the hot tub, positioning herself so that one of her jets, the one she'd named 'Juan', was right behind her. She felt the flow of water begin to caress her and she rested her head on her forearms as she wiggled further back, feeling the jet more strongly now as it pushed against her ass and her cunt. With a sigh, she found the perfect distance and pressed her face down into her arms, letting Juan work his magic. Water pressure massaged her cunt lips, strong enough to part them and to tease her clit, sending thrills through her. She shuddered and sighed loudly, forgetting, for now, how much men sucked. She bit the knuckle of her index finger, lost in reverie. God, if only it were a man fucking her. "Alone; on fucking Christmas; where's, ah!, where's the justice in that?" She was sweating now and panting as the relentless jets battered her nether tinglies, the sensations overwhelming her steadily. She clenched her teeth and her fists, straining as she fought to hold on a little longer. She moaned very loudly, her whole body shaking as Juan delivered a wonderful orgasm. She panted and groaned shamelessly, knowing that no one was around to see her in her pent-up, frustrated lust, expending it on her Jacuzzi jets. The scintillating lights behind her eyes, however, were over all too quickly and the climax subsided, replaced by a juddering sensitivity that made Juan's caress too much to bear. She collapsed against the edge of the hot tub, moving her ass away from the jet. "Alone; again;" She may have needed the orgasm, but it did nothing to improve her mood. It didn't help that the song 'This Christmas' by Shoes had begun playing as the cumming ended. When it finally felt like her legs would work again, she turned around and slumped into a corner of the tub, as far from Juan as possible. Ginny stayed still for some time, until her feet and fingers felt that annoying level of pruny that made everything awful to touch. With the heat of the water and all the alcohol she'd drunk, she was feeling rather light-headed, so she turned off the stereo and shut off the lights. She found a plate of her fucked-up and burnt gingerbread cookies and left them on a table near the fireplace along with the jug of nog before beginning to head upstairs to bed. "Yeah. Fuck this day. And fuck tomorrow too. Maybe if I stay drunk enough it'll just fly by. Fuck Christmas." The second floor was an open space in the middle, looking down onto the main floor. A set of stairs led up on either side and the bedrooms were spaced around the gallery. She'd loved the design when she bought it, but this only increased her frustration when no one ever came to visit. "Gorgeous fucking house; ten acres of beautiful nature filled with deer and ugly-ass wild turkeys; a fucking pond people could skate on; shit, I even found a patch of landrace back there! What's not to love about my new home? Why aren't people shitting themselves in jealousy?" She reached the master bedroom, sighing at how big it felt since she had no one to share it with. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her naked body and sighing. She was trim and fit, with nicely-sized boobs, she kept her cunt shaved smooth and her full lips were simply made to suck cock. Her skin was fair and even and her dark brown hair was long enough to pull on if you were fucking her ass or taking her from behind. So what the hell was wrong? The bed was certainly big enough for two (or maybe her and two guys who didn't mind getting close), but she plunked herself down into it and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop drunk-spinning. It took longer than she wanted it to, but things finally slowed down an she breathed deeply. She reached over with her hand and fumbled around inside the drawer of the nightstand. She finally withdrew an elegant glass dildo, a barely opaque white with bright red stripes curling around it to simulate a candy cane. It had been a Christmas gift from Claire, who had jokingly given it to her until she found a man for herself. That bitch. "Well, Frosty," she sighed, examining him. "Looks like it's you and me tomorrow. I promise to not get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or get more booze, okay? Because I'm here for you;" And with that she kissed the dildo and put it aside. She turned out her lamp and sighed deeply as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. "Fuck Christmas;" A noise from downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. She was sure she'd heard something. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, reasoning that she'd been drunk and it might just be hangover noises. Maybe just something like branches scraping on the roof or across the walls? Ginny felt a flush of anger and slowly rose, getting out of bed and putting on a plush yellow robe. There were definitely sounds downstairs. She grabbed her rape whistle and her high-school field hockey stick off the wall before quietly opening the door and proceeding out of the room. Her cheeks flushed with fear and anger. How dare someone invade her house? And in this fucking weather! "Burglars? Ruffians? Escaped cons?" "Well, at least if they see you they might have their way with you and break your dry spell." She shook the vile notion from her head, wondering where the hell that'd come from. Could she be that desperate to get laid? Ginny walked as quietly as she could, hearing noises on the roof. Raccoons? Looking to get in from the cold? Fucking trash pandas. She rounded the corner of the gallery and put her foot on the top step, her hockey stick ready. She crept down the stairs, still hearing the noises. They seemed to be coming from her living room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify anything that might be amiss. Then she saw him, a symphony of red trimmed in white, the huge ass swaying back and forth as the intruder was bent over her at the base of her Christmas tree, doing God only knows what to it. He seemed to be humming to himself. She walked up silently until she was maybe ten feet away from him, her hockey stick over her shoulder, ready to swing. He didn't hear her or took no notice of her. "I don't want to hurt you," she growled through clenched teeth. "But you'd best get the fuck out of my house or I'll hit you so hard Google won't be able to find you." The person in red paused in their activities and then stood up slowly. After another moment's pause, they stood up and turned around slowly. He was slightly taller than average and quite a bit fatter than societal norms allowed. He had a fat face with dancing blue eyes and red cheeks. Beneath the tapered red hat was long, silvery-white hair and a very full beard and moustache. The intruder looked at her and grinned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a voice that could only be described as jolly. Ginny said nothing. She seemed to be rooted to the spot. She wanted to say something, anything, but she seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech. "W, who;" she finally managed to stammer. "Yes, Virginia," the visitor said quietly but pleasantly in a soothing voice. "There really is a Santa Claus." She blinked and shook her head, trying to articulate a coherent thought. The big man in red chuckled, clearly amused by her predicament. "Your egg nog was very good," he mentioned as he walked forward a little. "Your cookies needed a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe a cookbook next year?" "Stay still!" she snapped, suddenly coming out of her stupor and holding the hockey stick behind her head as if she was winding up for a hit. "I'll deck you, old man!" "Oh, there's no need for that," he said cheerfully, totally unconcerned by her threat. "It's been a rough year for you, hasn't it, Ginny?" "Why do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of course I know it," the man claiming to be Santa said jovially. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I didn't, right?" "If you're really Santa," she said tightly, still not understanding why she hadn't knocked this guy's head off his shoulders yet. "Then what was I doing the night of October seventeenth last year?" He tilted his head to the side a little and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" "C'mon, you haven't got all day." "Very well," he said, sighing. "You were sitting in McPhearson's Pub, waiting vainly for Greg from IT to show up, because you'd given him a blowjob in the bathroom earlier that day and promised him more. But he went off with Becky from Accounts that night instead of meeting up with you." She blushed furiously at the memory. "I; that wasn't the day I meant! I meant the sixteenth!" He shrugged. "You had the day off and were really frustrated. You slid a condom over that very field hockey stick and used it on yourself, just to see what it was like." Ginny dropped the stick very suddenly. "How the hell do you know that, you perv?" The man shrugged. "I know all about you, Ginny. And every other boy and girl in the world" "Don't give me that horseshit!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I had too many Christmases where I didn't get what I want to buy into that cockamamie story!" "Well, you weren't exactly the most exemplary child, were you?" he reasoned. "I mean, you weren't horrible, it's not like you were out kicking puppies into woodchippers, but you spent more time in the naughty column that the good column, didn't you?" "What did I ever do that was so naughty?" she demanded hotly, her fists bunched up at her sides. "You and your brother could get rather friendly, couldn't you?" the man calling himself Santa pointed out. She faltered for a moment. "Lots of siblings play doctor. And those atomic booty bombs where I kept jumping in the air and landing on him were just playful." "While naked?" Santa asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. Ginny blushed. "But that wasn't what landed you on the naughty list," he added. "What got you blacklisted was that you lied about doing your homework or cleaning your room while you were messing around with your brother. Your mom and dad would ask you to do your math and you'd slip away to play doctor instead and tell them you'd finished your homework after. Lying is naughty, right?" "Woah, hold the phone here," she said loudly, holding her head as if she was suddenly dizzy from a revelation. She didn't seem to notice that her robe had opened slightly, exposing her cleavage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fibbing to my parents kept me from getting the gifts I wanted?" "Were the rules unclear?" Santa asked. "I thought the songs on the subject were so easy to follow." Ginny pinched her eyes in exasperation and then scowled at him. "I'm drunk," she concluded, trying to convince herself none of this was real. "I'm drunker than Sarah Palin and you're not really here. I'm still in bed and this is all bullshit." Santa shrugged. "I was putting stuff under your tree until you arrived and enjoying the nog. I won't mind if you go back to bed." "No, you're not getting off that easily," she said in annoyance. "You broke into my house in the middle of the storm of the fucking century and I want answers, dammit!" He shrugged. "Fair enough. Ask away." Her eyes narrowed again. "Aren't you on kind of a time crunch? Unless I'm the last person on your delivery list, don't you still have a shit ton of houses to visit? Say, a few hundred million?" He waved it off. "I've got it covered, I promise. I have all the time in the world for you, Ginny. I always have." "What, so you sub-contract out?" she said snidely. "Got FedEx making the rounds for you? Or maybe your 'Elves'?" She mentioned the last bit with air quotes. "Goodness, this has been a bad year for you, hasn't it?" he said sympathetically. "But to answer your question, I am capable of being many places at once." "Oh, so now you're the Kwizatz-Haderach?" she asked archly. "Hey, it's not just cinnamon I put in my Christmas cider." Santa chuckled. "It's rather complicated to explain." "So do you, like, clone yourself?" she asked, her guard seeming to slowly come down. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It involves Cherenkov Radiation, a Holmes field, a Gellar field and, to quote a friend of mine, 'a lot of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey; stuff.'" "So it's some sort of deep quantum shit?" she asked, her body finally relaxing. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it's very temporal and quantum. I can be many places at once. It's why I don't have to pay for billions in window repairs every year by going supersonic around the world." "So even while you're talking to me, you're delivering presents?" she asked, the sheer depth of the conversation hitting her now. She walked over to a stool and sat on it. "Like I said, it's difficult to explain without breaking out the chalkboard and calculator," he answered. "The magnetic lines between the poles help, especially the one that emanates from the Fortress of Solitude." Ginny blinked. "Fortress of Solitude? As in Superman? You're friends with Superman?" "Of course not!" the jolly man laughed. "There's no such thing as Superman, silly, he's a comic book character. Had you going, though." "Holy shit, Santa's a troll," she exclaimed, looking at him in bewilderment. "Well, okay, let's assume that this is all real and not a vivid hallucination resulting from a brain tumor. If I've been such a brat all these years, how do I make up for it? How do I get off the naughty girl list?" "Well, a little restraint would be a start," Santa suggested. "I'm not saying go out and become a Carthusian nun or a Buddhist priestess or anything, but you might try laying off the rampant promiscuity." "Why is that so bad?" she demanded. "What's so wrong with wanting to get banged?" "Nothing," he said simply. "But inevitably you get yourself into some kind of weird situation and end up lying your behind off and lying is a naughty thing to do. So try keeping your legs bolted together a little more." "Really;" she said, clearly not impressed. "Celibacy lessons from Santa Claus. Now I've heard everything." "According to my report here and speaking frankly, it's taken guys a lot less attractive than me a lot less effort to get you out of your clothes." Santa mentioned. "This coming from a guy who could clearly use a few P90-X sessions!" she shot back hotly, standing up, her robe opening further as she stomped toward him. He looked down at himself for a moment and guffawed. "Oh, right, I keep forgetting about that; hang on;" The man held his hands out to his sides and began to glow. The luminous display lit up the room progressively and Ginny held her hand in front of her face when it became too bright to look at for several seconds. When the light finally died away, leaving them once again in the softly lit living room, Ginny gaped in shock at what she saw. He was tall, powerfully built, with chiseled muscles, an eight pack and flawless, healthy skin. He'd removed his coat but the red pants remained, stretched tight over muscular thighs. Long, wavy, copper-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the full beard was reddish-gold. The sapphire-blue eyes stared down at her, still glittering with mirth. "Holy Jesus on a pogo stick;" she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're a total lumbersexual;" "This is what I really look like," he said, spreading his hands out to the sides and showing her his body. His chest rippled as the muscles flexed with the motion. "But kids react to the fat old man disguise better." "I'll bet mothers don't," she murmured, coming forward as if compelled and reaching out to touch his chest and washboard abs. "It's like you're Photo-shopped." He smiled as her hands caressed his abs. "You make me want to not get off the naughty list." "I think I know what you really want for Christmas;" he said slyly. Ginny paused and looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" "No, I can't lie." the man in red pants replied. "I thought it was Superman who couldn't lie." "Well, the writers had to get that idea from somewhere, I guess." Santa mused. "In any event, if you want, you could end up on the good girl list by being rather naughty." She stared at him. "So; get laid by Santa for Christmas?" He shrugged. "There might be some other goodies in the bag for you, but I think we both know what Ginny really wants and needs for Christmas." "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" she thought to herself, wrestling with her sensibilities. "If this is all just a dream, then I can fuck hunky Santa and have no regrets. If this is real, I can fuck sexy Santa and remember it in the morning! It's win-win!" "Well, this is super-easy," she declared. "Santa, I want you to fuck my brains out for Christmas." "With pleasure, Ginny!" he said, laughing merrily. "Whatever you like, however you want it. I have to keep the kiddies happy." "Good, but just don't say 'kiddies' anymore, because that's kinda creepy," she said, throwing her caution to the wind. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on the oversized silver belt buckle and undoing it. Letting it drop, she put her fingers on the front of his pants, caressing them over the crotch. Her mouth went dry. "That'd better not be a secondary present sack you're teasing me with;" Ginny hooked her fingers into the top of the velvety pants and pulled them down, revealing his cock. She drew in her breath slowly, her eyes widening. "Jesus," she muttered. "You're hung like a fat kid's Christmas stocking;" "Thanks, I make due." Santa said cheerfully, watching her admire his cock. "By the way, shouldn't I call you something else?" she asked, looking up at him while her hand reached up to take his huge shaft, wrapping around it, barely. "I mean, most people call you Santa Claus, but isn't your name Nick or Kris or something?" He shrugged again, grinning. "Nick, Kris, Klaus, Pelznickel, Joulupukki, Kanakaloka, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weihnachtsmann, Swiety Mikolaj, Hoteiosho, Jultomten, I don't mind, Ginny. I just like hearing you say my name the way you think of me." "Hmm, Santa;" she replied, smiling as she stroked her hand along his shaft, eyeing it hungrily. How the hell was she going to fit that all in her mouth, forget her aching cunt? "Ah, don't use that word," he chided, holding up a finger. "Some words are still naughty, even when you're an adult." "Stay out of my mind then, creeper." Ginny said as she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the fat head of his cock. She flicked it around the tip and then slowly took it inside her mouth, tongue rolling against it. "The hell? How can his cock taste like mint?" "Just wait til you taste my cum." Santa said, leering. "Fine, but it better not taste like turkey gravy or we're gonna box." Ginny said as she pulled her mouth back for a moment. She pumped her hand gently along the shaft, studying her quarry intently. It was definitely the biggest cock she'd ever taken on, and the best-tasting. She'd been experiencing trippy magic all evening, maybe she could fit this monster in her mouth this one night; She put the head back in her mouth and relaxed, slowly pushing down the shaft. She moaned as she felt him slide to the back of her mouth and then to her throat. She felt him tremble and lay a huge but gentle hand on the back of her head. "Holy shit; I'm deep-throating Santa Claus;" Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and then tried to relax. Her whole body was tingling with excitement and the whole minty cock thing was throwing her off. Her tongue undulated along the underside of his shaft while the fingers of one hand formed a ring around the base of his cock and the other cupped his balls, fondling them. Ginny was proud of her cocksucking skills and if there was anyone she ever needed to impress with them (aside from her 11th Grade math teacher), it was probably Santa. She calmed herself and began pulling her mouth back along his length, humming and letting her lips vibrate softly on his sensitive skin. "Now I know why Mister Bondi gave you that A in math," Santa chuckled. "You're a very naughty girl, Virginia." "Hmm, only for you, Santa baby;" she cooed as she pulled her mouth off his cock long enough to respond, stroking slowly and swirling her tongue around the head again. She then slid back down the entire length, moaning in pleasure. She could feel her nipples getting hard and her cunt was very, very wet beneath her robe. Both his hands were on the back of her head now and holding her gently but firmly. She began to slowly bob back and forth, thrilled at how she was able to take this enormous beast of a cock all the way in her mouth. Sure, maybe there was some weird physics involved that compressed space and time or some shit, but she didn't care and he certainly didn't seem to mind. "Hmm, very good, Virginia;" he said softly, stroking her hair. No one ever called her Virginia and she didn't know why it gave her a tingle when he did. His cock was very full and very hard now, like a pulsing iron rod covered in mint-flavored velvet. She almost giggled at the thought of how crazy this all was. She really hoped it wasn't a dream. Her thumb began to squeeze along the underside of his cock as her hand followed her mouth up and down his length. The shaft glistened wetly and the mint was making her drool. She undid her robe and let it fall away, the air of the room kissing her flushed skin. Her hands now took hold of his powerful thighs and she began moving back and forth along his cock more quickly. She could feel his hands flexing in her long, dark hair, caressing her skin. Breathing through her nose, she moaned as she sucked ardently, her cunt almost aching with desire. She was hoping he would last long enough to fuck her when he went rigid suddenly and groaned, gripping her head tightly and his hips shuddering. Ginny's eyes widened as she felt him began to cum inside her mouth, spurting strongly. She began swallowing hastily, almost in a panic as Santa pumped his hips against her face. "Holy shit! Fucking eggnog?" He kept cumming and she was sure she might actually drown when he pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and pumped it furiously in his hand, spattering her tits and stomach with his glistening load. She'd never seen so much cum in her life. It tingled on her skin. Finally, Santa relaxed, allowing Ginny to put her mouth back around his cock and suck the rest of his cum from him. He was sighing and breathing rather heavily, apparently having enjoyed himself. She eventually released him and smiled up at him wickedly. "So," she cooed, winking while she gently pumped his cock with her hand. "Am I back on the good girl list?" "Oh, I'd think so," he said, grinned. "But it's not like I've given you your whole present yet." "Jeez, you can still go?" she asked almost in disbelief but also delighted. She really needed to be fucked hard now. "Your cock taste like mint, your cum tastes like nog, your ass probably tastes like hot cocoa or nutmeg and you can keep it up all night?" "Up all night is kind of my thing, at least once a year." Santa said cheerfully. "So how would you like for me to give you the rest of your present, Virginia?" "Well, golly, Santa," she mused, making a show of thinking while she stroked his cock. "Since you seem to be the gift that keeps on giving, how about we just wing it?" He nodded and she stood up, keeping hold of his cock and gently led him over to the large chesterfield, hoping it would hold his rather muscular frame. She knelt on it, resting her arms along the raised back and smiled at him, wiggling her behind. She wouldn't believe how wet her cunt was. "You gonna hurry down my chimney, Santa-baby?" she asked, smiling slyly. "I can't believe you just said that!" he laughed jovially. He may not have been older, fatter Santa, but the laugh still definitely suited him. He stepped up behind her and took gentle hold of her hips. She could feel him press against her ass and she shivered in anticipation. He slid his massive cock up and down between her ass cheeks, teasing her until she was writhing in desperation. He seemed to know instinctively what she loved most. Which only made sense, since he was Santa. "Ready, Virginia?" he asked as he pressed the huge mushroom head against her sticky cunt. She nodded eagerly, unwilling to speak. He slid the head in, parting her lips and penetrating her. She groaned loudly as he began to stretch her inner walls. With a slow, steady push of his hips, he pushed the entire length of his cock deep inside her. It robbed her of her breath, she'd never felt so full in her life, even that one time she'd been so horny she'd fucked her parent's bedpost. "Ah; uh;" she gasped, eyes wide. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced. His cock completely filled her to a delightful stretch that didn't hurt except in the good way. His iron shaft throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was wonderfully warm but also strangely cool all at once, tingling, like mint again. How the hell could her cunt taste peppermint? "Language, Virginia;" he chided again as he pressed in just a little bit further. By right his cockhead should have bruising her brainstem, but there was no doubt some weird physics shit involved that she decided not to think about. She was getting fucked by Santa, after all. She pressed her forehead against the back of the couch and tried squeezing her cunt around his titan cock or pressing back against him, squirming her ass against his hips. She shuddered in delight, loving how he felt inside her. His hands reached under her body and squeezed and massaged her tits, sending delicious thrills through her. He began to move slowly back and forth, pulling back until just the tip was inside her and pushing in steadily, almost robbing her of breath. She began to feel like a blacksmith's bellows very quickly. The feel of his cock sliding inside her, stretching her and touching deep inside in ways she hadn't known were possible; "Oh my god;" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the couch. "You're tearing me apart and I love it;" "Only the best for my Virginia," he said, his ruddy cheeks taking on a flush tone as he fucked her. Her fingers squeezed the meat of her thighs and hips or flexed on her ass cheeks. His heavy balls slapped against her cunt as he drove inside her. Strong yet gentle, forceful and commanding yet accommodating. She felt dominated yet exalted somehow. His hand wrapped in her hair and she groaned loudly as he pulled on it, craning her neck. She shuddered in pleasure, feeling her spine almost accordion as he thrust inside while pulling her head back. Her could feel the pulse of his cock through her whole body. Her nails scratched along the couch, almost clawing it. "Uh, you're gonna make me cum so fucking hard;" she wailed, feeling the sweat forming on her skin. "Oh my gawd;" "You're going to make me cum hard too," he panted, thrusting deep inside, thumping his hips against her ass. "You feel wonderful and tight, Virginia;" "Oh, God, he's gonna cum in me;" she realized. "Santa's gonna fucking cum in me and he's not wearing anything! Will my birth control work? Shit, will my kids always smell like mint?" "Oh, God, cum in me!" she panted, thrusting herself back against him and grinding shamelessly. "Fucking cum in me, Santa!" "Ya want me to cum in you?" he hissed, his body beginning to tremble. It felt like his cock was getting bigger inside her. "Want my cum in you?" "God, yes!" Ginny squeaked, clenching her teeth. "Fucking cum in me and make me scream!" They strained against one another desperately and then she cried out as a massive orgasm crashed over her. It battered her senses as she felt his hot-yet-tingly-cool cum bathing her insides relentlessly. Her cunt was making greedy sucking sounds as she came, her whole body shuddering almost uncontrollably. She squeezed and clenched and rippled her tight tunnel round him, reveling in the way he stretched and penetrated her ever more deeply. She collapsed against the chesterfield, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. His massive, hard cock was still deep inside her, pinning her to him. She felt like she was made of lead, an exquisite exhaustion while pleasure crawled over her languidly. That was beyond anything she had ever experienced. But he didn't seem to be done with her. His powerful hands took hold of Ginny and turned her around so she was squatting on the couch, her knees spread wide and her arms slung across the high back. She looked up at him in weary astonishment as he nestled himself between her legs and pressed his cock against her sopping cunt again. "Ah!" she wailed as he slid deep inside her again, his huge cock splitting her wide. Her nails dug into the couch again and she clenched her teeth as she sucked in her breath. Ginny tried to regulate her breathing while Santa began sliding in and out slowly, looking down at her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Jesus," she grunted, feeling almost like a rag doll in his hands, which gripped her hips. "Gonna fucking kill me with that thing!" "Oh, let's hope not," he replied, thrusting into her strongly. "I'm nowhere near done with you." She gazed up at him, trembling as he fucked her good and hard. She bit her lip as he squeezed her thighs, before moving his hands up to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples. She groaned shamelessly as the delicious sting electrified her senses. She tried to squeeze herself around him, baffled by how big he felt inside her. She gasped and whimpered as he slapped her cunt lightly. She reached forward and raked her nails over his powerful chest, leaving red marks along the defined muscles. She ground her hips against him wantonly, thrilling to the look of pleasure on this face. "Uh, fuckin' wreck me;" she gasped, feeling another massive climax building inside her. "Make me cum on that beautiful cock, Santa!" "I'll take 'Things Virginia Never Thought She'd Ever Hear Herself Say' for a thousand, Alex!" he laughed. He reached down and took her ass her hands and pulled her closer, smiling warmly yet wickedly into her eyes as she sank further onto his cock, which penetrated her to the deepest depths yet. She could feel the head pressing against her womb. It didn't hurt, but she felt fuller and more stretched than ever. She felt him squeeze her ass cheeks while he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight, bumping up and down on his powerful thighs. She moaned loudly and bit his shoulder, trying not to shriek. She tried to squeeze herself around him again, finding that she could barely control her muscles, let alone fuck. She bit down as the warmth spread through her, tears of pleasure in her eyes. He thumped his hips against her even more strongly and they strained against one another. Then he growled and released himself, pumping her once again full of his tingling cum. She shuddered and cried out loudly, her head spinning from the unreal ecstasy. Crushing herself to him, Ginny held on desperately, like a ship battered by an unrelenting storm. They both slumped onto the couch, breathing heavily. She felt small and almost cocooned in his embrace. She was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat and could feel the thrilling tingle of his cum trickling out of her cunt. It wouldn't be a stain on her couch, it was a mark of honor. Their hearts pounded in rhythm as the orgasm passed over them and slowly flowed away. "Holy shit;" she whispered, her body still limp in his arms. "I think you've ruined me for sex. I should be mad;" "You have to admit, it makes sense that I'm better at gift-giving than anyone else on the planet." Santa reasoned, smiling and stroking her hair while she sat in his lap. "I'd say you were a little pent up there." "Mild understatement," she moaned, finally raising her head and smiling up at him. "Thank you, first of all. That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." "I aim to please," he said cheerfully, caressing his thumb across her cheek and enjoying the shining look in her eyes. "Kinda my thing, after all." "So," Ginny purred, walking to fingers up his broad chest. "Is there a Mrs. Claus?" He shrugged. "There has been, of course." She paused suddenly and looked up at him, her smile replaced by a deadpan look. "What do you mean, there has been?" He seemed somewhat confused by her change in demeanor. "Well, there has been a few in the past, of course, there was Seeki first, then there was Ahoop, followed by Annalina, then Layla, Martha, Juliana, Gretchen and Jessica, Santarina, Kasey, Mary;" "I see," she said stonily. "You've had more wives than Elizabeth Taylor had husbands." "Well, to be fair, they've been spread over a long period of time." Santa replied. "And they were all special to me." "So then I'm not special." Ginny said flatly. "Well of course you are," he said, not understanding her mood swing. "You're my Virginia." "And Becky down the street is your Becky, and Sarah in the blue house is your Sarah and Hilda in Dusseldorf is your Hilda," she concluded. "Everyone's equally special to you, aren't they?" He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair," she sighed. "I just; well, I thought maybe this; ya know, tonight, was truly special. And clearly you're not good at lying." "Well, no, not at all." Santa agreed, still holding her and wondering how he could comfort her. "I can't lie." "Like, literally can't?" she asked, now curious more than anything. "It's part of your genetic makeup that you can't lie?" "No, nothing like that," he admitted. "But after spending centuries with kids and teaching them to always tell the truth, I haven't tried telling a lie in so long I don't even know how to do it." "You don't know how to lie?" she mused. "If I did, it wouldn't be the least bit believable," he said. "Like, if I said right now that your breath smells wonderful and not like old eggnog and vomit, I somehow doubt you'd believe my lie." "No shit," Ginny replied, giving him a stony look. "You're a horrible liar. You've got the subtlety of a cement truck. Good thing you're Santa and don't have to date to charm a girl." He held her close, hugging her tight to comfort her. She sighed deeply, still impaled on his hard cock, which showed no sign of abating. "God, I can't believe you've still got wood after cumming like a fire hydrant three times," she said, her mood softening. She was having the best sex of her life, she reminded herself not to ruin it by being crazy. "How long can you keep going?" He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "How long do you need me to?" "Actually, it doesn't surprise me that's your answer." Ginny said, smirking. "If you've got the time, I've got another itch that needs scratching." He grinned. "So you haven't broken in that hot tub yet, have you?" "Oh, Santa;" she purred, leaning in and biting his earlobe. "Like you don't make me wet already." He picked her up and carried her toward the Jacuzzi, deftly turning it on with his foot and bringing it rumbling to life. He stepped down into the churning water, setting her one of the seats. As he stood up, she leaned forward and hungrily took his enormous cock into her mouth, sucking ardently. She moved forward and knelt in the water, her hands on his hips again or stroking his balls. He picked her up bodily and turned her upside. Ginny squeaked in surprise at first but found his hips in front of her and began sucking again on his tool without delay. He buried his face in her cunt, tongue snaking deep inside her and she groaned gutturally, Holding her in place with one powerful hand, her teased her taint and then pressed a finger into her ass. "Jesus!" she gasped, almost choking on his cock as he wormed the finger down into her tight tunnel. "Oh, fuck! Your finger is bigger than some dicks I've fucked!" She attacked his cock again eagerly, bobbing back and forth like her life depended on it. She squirmed in his grip as he lashed her cunt with his tongue and fingered her ass. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and her knees locked around his neck. His cock throbbed in her mouth, still thrilling her with its unique and incredible taste. He turned her around again and paid her on the edge of the hot tub, spreading her legs wide. She looked on wantonly as he pushed his tongue back inside her again. He gripped her thighs to hold her in place and she groaned and squirmed, squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her to the limit of her sensations. Ginny shook and thrashed as she cried out loudly, cumming on his face. He didn't let up, lapping at her essence eagerly. She lay like a dead thing for several seconds before her chest began to rise and fall. Her eyes opened, gazing back at him. She couldn't feel her limbs, just floating on a tingling ocean of deep colors. Santa looked up at her and smiled, pulling his tongue out of her cunt and kissing her clit gently. She shivered at the touch. "One hole left, Santa," she breathed, her body glistening. "Got any left in you to perfect my Christmas?" "Always for you, Virginia." Santa said warmly, standing and raising her gently into a sitting position. He settled down into the water on one of the seats and then pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him. She moved her hips around until she found his rock-hard cock, waiting for her. She placed her puckered knot against it, giggling as she thought about what he was about to do to her. She took his shaft in her hand and held it steady while she sank down, very slowly. Ginny gasped and shivered as the head pushed aside the tight ring of muscle, popping inside her. Then she sighed as she lowered herself, feeling his massive cock stretching her tight tunnel wide. God, she felt so full it was unreal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her ass cheeks pressed to his lap. He was all the way inside her ass and her held her closed as she settled back against him, purring in sensual pleasure. "Umm, it's never felt this good in my ass before," she said softly, her arms reaching back to curl around his neck. She gyrated slowly on his lap, moaning softly. "A gal could get used to this." His muscular arms wrapped around her and caressed Ginny's body, massaging her tits. She loved how she felt pinned to him. She had finally found the measure of her body and began to squeeze her tight ass around his cock. She squirmed in slow circles on his lap, wishing she had some music to fuck him to. Her stereo system suddenly came on and began playing 'It's Cold Outside'. She giggled and squeezed his neck gently at his thoughtfulness. "You think of everything, don't you?" she purred, lost in her pleasure. "I can't wait to make you cum again." He smiled wickedly and pulled gently on her nipples, causing her to groan at the welcome sting. She pressed her ass back into his lap, squeezing again around his throbbing shaft. The water bubbled and churned around her waist, the heat leaving her skin shining. She began to pant as she moved her hips faster, stopping the circular motions and started to move up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. Santa took hold of her hips and let her bounce on his lap. Ginny leaned forward, gasping as she fondled her tits, overcome with a liquid heat as his cock impaled her faster and faster. Water splashed around them as the fucking took on an almost frantic pace. Ginny had never felt anything in her ass like this before, nothing even close to this good. She could very easily become an addict. "Uh, fuck!" she grunted, slamming her ass down on him while one hand snaked down and began massaging her cunt and clit. His hands steadied her and helped moved her up and down. She could feel his hips trembling beneath her, his fingers flexing and squeezing her skin. Her panting became a long, drawn-out keening. She clenched her teeth, shuddering and straining as she tried to prolong the fucking; Ginny screamed and pushed herself back against his massive chest violently, thrashing as she clenched his cock inside her ass while he came. His cream flooded inside her, the unreal hot-cool tingling transporting her. He growled in her ear, almost crushing her comparatively tiny frame against himself. She collapsed, utterly exhausted, her chest rising and falling as the world spun around her. She felt him holding her gently, caressing her body in unique ways that seemed to; regulate her blood flow and nerve sensations, making the post-orgasmic bliss she was feeling last as long as possible. She felt herself smile and hum at his consideration, understanding this this is who he was and what he was meant to do. Ginny then did something she almost never did during sex, she leaned her head back, pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply and with great affection. She held it for as long as she could and then sank back into his embrace, sighing in contentment. "Wish you were advertising for a Mrs. Claus at the moment," she said softly. "I could get used to this." "I like things the way they are," he replied, hugging her. "Every year I get to reward you for being a good girl. What could be better than that?" "True, I guess," Ginny agreed. "I'm only human, all this sex could kill me." "Hey, I'm human too, you know," he chuckled. "Just because I'm immeasurably older than you and subject to quantum laws even my smartest elf couldn't explain doesn't mean I'm a member of some other species." "Okay, that's fair, although I'd still fuck you if you were an alien or some extra-dimensional being." Ginny admitted. "You've come in me a lot tonight, daddy. Do I need to” "No," he said cheerfully. "I'm not sterile, but you can't get pregnant unless I decide you will and I've never allowed it." "I wonder what a Santa kid would be like," she mused. "More like you or the mom?" "No idea," he confessed. "There's not exactly a manual, so I've never taken a chance." She slowly leaned forward and began to rise, shivering as she slid off his long cock and it popped out of her. She knelt and turned around to face him, not sure she could stand yet, looking up at his still hard cock and giggled, pressing her finger against the head. "Well, I think you can take him off duty, sir," she said sweetly. "I'm pretty sure that I'm all fucked out for the night, if not the whole season." He chuckled and let his cock soften, looking into her eyes and caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that was what you needed for Christmas." "Definitely, Santa." Ginny said, giggling. "Is it greedy to want the same present again next year?" "Not at all," he replied, grinning. "It cuts down on elf-labor hours if I can give people a gift mysteriously." Santa paused in speaking, going silent and looking around, as if listening for something. Neither of them touched the controls, but the motor for the jets turned off and all that could be heard was the howling roar of the winter storm outside. Ginny looked at him in confusion, wondering why his features hardened and a scowl crossed his normally jovial face. "That's no storm," he said in a low, growling voice. "Not a regular one, anyway." "What does that mean?" she asked, his reaction worrying her for reasons she couldn't readily explain. What the hell was a 'not regular' storm, according to Santa, or anyone else for that matter? He stood up and strode out of the hot tub, taking her by the hand and pulling her out with him. Their naked bodies glistened with water but this was the farthest thing from her mind. "What's going on?" she asked, his consternation beginning to frighten her now. She watched as he tossed her the robe she'd been wearing earlier and then started pulling on his pants and sturdy black boots. "It's just a winter storm! Isn't it?" "I wish that were true," he replied, his expression grim. "Listen to me very carefully, Virginia. I'll need you to follow me instructions precisely. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Okay, but” "Good," he said, cutting her off, his eyes flashing. "It's very important to your safety." "Can you at least tell me what's happening?" she pleaded. "Krampus." Santa muttered darkly as he wrapped bright red straps around his wrists, tightening them. "I should've been more careful." "What's Krampus?" she asked, going pale and she paused in putting on her robe, one of her tits hanging out. "Krampus isn't a what, Krampus is a who," he said, his eyes scanning the layout of her expansive living room. "He's also called Black Pete in some places and legend says he's supposed to be my evil henchman who punishes wicked children." "I take it that's not true, then?" she asked, looking around like he did, wondering what he was searching for. "Not even close," he growled. "Pardon my French, but Krampus is an evil sonofabitch. He was, at one time long ago, my dedicated helper, but he turned down the path of darkness, becoming twisted and diabolic. Forget punishing children, he wants to destroy Christmas, like it never happened." "What's that got to do with us here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Can he reach us in this storm?" "This storm is his doing, I recognize it now," Santa said, striding over to his huge Christmas bag and beginning to rummage in it. "A massive storm always precedes his arrival. It can be mistaken for a regular winter storm if you're not paying

12-12-25 - Details On Holmberg Helps Drive w/Military Assistance Mission - Entertainment Drill - FRI - Khloe Kardashian Says She Has Cobwebs In Her Vagina From CelibacySee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

12-12-25 - Details On Holmberg Helps Drive w/Military Assistance Mission - Entertainment Drill - FRI - Khloe Kardashian Says She Has Cobwebs In Her Vagina From CelibacySee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Joe Dallas, nationally recognized expert on the intersection between Christianity and issues concerning the LGBT community, will join us to discuss the concept of “gay celibacy.” Why are more and more churches embracing this concept, and does it really align with what Scripture teaches? Join us for a thoughtful and biblically based conversation.Become a Parshall Partner: http://moodyradio.org/donateto/inthemarket/partnersSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Kyle King (Orthodox, former Catholic) and Ben Bollinger (Catholic, former Orthodox) debate whether clerical celibacy as practiced by Latin Catholics has a stronger basis in antiquity than the Eastern Catholic/Orthodox practice. 

In 2025, the clearest path to turning a woman on might not be abs, money, or even great foreplay; it's a man who can actually plan a trip without being asked seventeen times. A new Booking.com survey of 1,000 Americans found that 93% of women find a partner taking the initiative to book travel more attractive than a good body or a high salary, with 56% saying the act itself feels like foreplay. Yet the same survey reveals the brutal punchline: 56% of women say their significant other has never once booked a trip for them. Two-thirds of men admit they'd only plan a getaway if it directly increased their chances of sex; turning what could be romance into a coldly transactional exchange.While some men treat vacations like sexual currency, millions of women have simply stopped waiting. Solo female travel has exploded: 75–84% of solo bookings worldwide are now made by women, with India alone seeing a 135% surge between 2023 and 2025. Tour companies report women making up 70% of solo travelers, many aged 45–60 and explicitly escaping the “parental obligation gap” (full-time working mothers still do 62% of household management while men do just 9%). Destinations like Iceland, Singapore, and Japan top the safety rankings, and women are arming themselves with detailed itineraries, women-only tours, and safety apps; because they've learned they can no longer rely on a partner to handle the logistics.This independence has spilled over into how women view relationships themselves. As Jane Mulkerrins writes in The Times, having a boyfriend is now widely considered “embarrassing,” “cringe,” and something successful women actively hide. The U.S. is in the middle of a “great relationship recession”: 41% of women aged 23–34 are single (double the rate of a decade ago), fueled by financial independence, access to solo IVF, and standards so high that settling feels like failure. Movements like Korea's 4B (no dating, no marriage, no sex, no children) have gone global, and even women in situationships refuse to post their partners online; lest followers think they've lowered their stock.The retreat from romance has gone deeper than dating apps; many young women are giving up on sex entirely. Celibacy rates among women aged 18–29 have doubled since 2010 and risen 50% just since 2021. For women like 29-year-old Mandana Zarghami, four years without sex isn't deprivation; it's a deliberate reset that sharpens intuition and weeds out men who treat intimacy as another transaction. When hook-up culture consistently prioritizes male pleasure and emotional labor still falls almost entirely on women, opting out starts to look like the ultimate power move.Taken together, the message to men is blunt: today's independent woman doesn't need you to complete her life; she's already booking her own flights, building her own empire, and discovering who she is on the other side of the world. If you want in, you'd better bring more than a swipe-right and a prayer. The fastest way to her heart in 2025 isn't flowers or sweet talk; it's proving you can plan a seamless ten-day itinerary to Santorini without her having to send you the Google Doc. Anything less, and she'll happily enjoy the view alone.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/depraved-and-debaucherous--5267208/support.Contact KOP for professional podcast production, imaging, and web design services at http://www.kingofpodcasts.comSupport KOP by subscribing to his YouTube channel and search for King Of PodcastsFollow KOP on X and TikTok @kingofpodcasts (F Meta!)Listen to KOP's other programs, Podcasters Row… and the Wrestling is Real Wrestling Podcast and The Broadcasters Podcast.Buy KOP a Coffee https://buymeacoffee.com/kingofpodcastsDrop KOP a PayPal https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=3TAB983ZQPNVLDrop KOP a Venmo https://account.venmo.com/u/kingofpodcastsDrop KOP a CashApp https://cash.app/$kingofallpodcasts

Today is day 328 and we are studying The Seventh Commandment. 328. Are some called to lifelong celibacy? Yes. God calls some to an unmarried life of faithfulness and chastity. This calling enables them to devote their lives to God's service without the responsibilities of marriage and family. (Matthew 19:10–12; 1 Corinthians 7:32–35) We will conclude today by praying Prayer 52.For Those We Love and Prayer 15. For Monastic Orders and Vocations found on page 662 and 650 of the Book of Common Prayer (2019). If you would like to buy or download To Be a Christian, head to anglicanchurch.net/catechism. Produced by Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Madison, MS. Original music from Matthew Clark. Daily collects and Psalms are taken from Book of Common Prayer (2019), created by the Anglican Church in North America and published by the Anglican Liturgical Press. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations are from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Catechism readings are taken from To Be a Christian - An Anglican Catechism Approved Edition, copyright © 2020 by The Anglican Church in North America by Crossway a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

As he continues the study in Matthew, Rev Sam Bostock looks at the subject of singleness.  Isaiah 56 vs 1 - 8; Matthew 19 vs 10 - 12  

In this honest and eye-opening episode, Ariel sits down with guests to unpack the often-confused concepts of abstinence and celibacy, especially within the body of Christ. Together, they explore how these choices are shaped by pain, pride, purpose, and personal healing.The conversation dives into:The difference between celibacy (spiritual commitment) and abstinence (intentional choice)How past hurt, emotional trauma, and distorted self-worth influence sexual decisionsThe mental and emotional challenges of abstaining from sexThe temptation of self-pleasure and how it impacts true abstinenceHow knowing your bloodline helps you understand what you attractThe importance of healing before entering relationshipsWhy abstinence must be rooted in purpose—not pain or prideThis episode is a powerful reminder that healing starts with self-awareness, and that abstinence is not just about withholding sex—it's about protecting your value, honoring your journey, and preparing for divine alignment.

Send us a textIn this intimate and unfiltered episode of The Sober Butterfly Podcast, host Nadine Mulvina opens up about her journey of celibacy in sobriety — from chaotic, alcohol-fueled hookups to a life anchored in self-respect, clarity, and peace.Before getting sober, sex often felt like a search for connection that always ended in disconnection. Nadine reflects on how alcohol served as a social lubricant, helping her lower inhibitions while deepening her emotional void. She dives into her two distinct hoe phases — from college party culture to navigating machismo in Mexico City — and how those experiences shaped her understanding of intimacy, self-worth, and addiction to limerence.Now, nearly a year into her second celibacy era, Nadine shares the unexpected benefits of celibacy in sobriety — including heightened clarity, confidence, creativity, and spiritual grounding. With humor and honesty, she explores what happens when you stop seeking validation through sex and start nurturing a genuine relationship with yourself.This episode is for anyone who's re-evaluating their relationship with love, lust, or loneliness — and wants to rediscover intimacy beyond the physical.

Marriage isn't ultimate.  Singleness isn't broken.  Desire isn't evil.  Divorce isn't simple.  Celibacy isn't impossible.  AND Jesus is Lord over all of it!

Dr. Jenni and Daniel chat with sexuality journalist, and Lifestyle editor for the New York Post, Fabiana Buontempo about her experiences in the dating world professionally and personally. The stakes are higher for men as women create autonomous and lucrative careers; while other women are taking a "pseudo"-celibacy approach to their dating game. Jenni and Daniel discuss with her ways to dating intentionally and manifest what you are ultimately looking for and about her experiences with hot topics like celibacy and the new rules of dating. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Show Features: Super Stupid Spelling Bee, Redneck Report and Pop TrashSocials: @DaveandMahoney Voice Mail: 833-Yo-Dummy https://www.twitch.tv/daveandmahoney Additional Content: daveandmahoney.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In this episode, I sit down with our resident problematic fave for a hilarious, honest, and reflective conversation that kicks off the final season of The Boonie Breakdown! We unpack everything from the chaos of modern dating to personal growth, self-reflection, and what it really means to evolve in real time. We also discuss:

How can I help my daughter who has concerns regarding confirmation? What can Mary do for us? Why does the Catholic Church ask their priests to be celibate? and more on today's Open Line with Fr. John Trigilio. (Originally aired on 9/9/24)

Send us a textINTRODUCTION: *EMAIL ME FOR FREE SPIRITUAL WRITING SESSIONS*In this episode of the Sex Drugs and Jesus Christ of Nazareth podcast, host De'Vannon Archangel delves into the concept of 'Celibacy 3.0.' Discussing the balance of feminine and masculine energies, De'Vannon addresses the spiritual implications of celibacy, prophecy, and the end times. He also touches on societal pressures around sexual behavior, emphasizing the importance of spiritual guidance and intentional isolation. From spiritual writing to the merging of dimensions, this episode covers a wide range of topics intended to guide listeners on their spiritual journey. De'Vannon invites listeners to join in prophetic handwriting sessions and offers his unique perspective on integrating spirituality with everyday life. Playlists: https://music.apple.com/profile/DeVannonSeraphinoWebsite: https://www.SexDrugsAndJesus.comINCLUDED IN THIS EPISODE (But not limited to):·      WE ARE IN ETERNITY.·      The Dimensions Have Merged.·      Stigmas Surrounding Celibacy.·      Balanced Sexuality.·      Psychic Sex Orgies.·      Celebrity Bullying. ·      ALL DRUGS & ALCOHOL ARE PURIFIED UNDER THE HOLY GHOST. CONNECT WITH DE'VANNON SERÁPHINO:TikTok: https://shorturl.at/nqyJ4YouTube: https://bit.ly/3daTqCMLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/devannonEmail: DEVANNON@GMAIL.COM REFERENCES:PsychologyToday: https://tinyurl.com/mryccaf5 VeryWellMind : https://tinyurl.com/4bpkr7mu Thanks for listening!!! Please follow us on YouTube + TikTok @SexDrugsAndJesusPodcast

Send us a textINTRODUCTION:In this episode of the Sex Drugs and Jesus Podcast, De'Vannon Seráphino delves into the controversial topics of celibacy and condom use. He discusses his strong opposition to condoms, attributing their negative impact on spiritual and physical health. The episode further explores the concept of abandoning desires and the benefits of celibacy, emphasizing the importance of spiritual purity and self-control. De'Vannon also touches on how societal influences and media perpetuate false narratives about promiscuity, and provides guidance on how to regain personal power through celibacy and intentional isolation. Additionally, he shares his journey of transformation from a promiscuous past to a life dedicated to spiritual awakening and purity.Playlists: https://music.apple.com/profile/DeVannonSeraphinoWebsite: https://www.SexDrugsAndJesus.comINCLUDED IN THIS EPISODE (But not limited to):·      CONDOMS Are The Devil.·      The ABANDONMENT of Desire.·      FORGIVENESS For Murder. CONNECT WITH DE'VANNON SERÁPHINO:TikTok: https://shorturl.at/nqyJ4YouTube: https://bit.ly/3daTqCMLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/devannonEmail: SDJPodcastNewYork@Gmail.com REFERENCES:PsychologyToday: https://tinyurl.com/mryccaf5 VeryWellMind : https://tinyurl.com/4bpkr7mu Thanks for listening!!! Please follow us on YouTube + TikTok @SexDrugsAndJesusPodcast

Today we begin by discussing our sleeping habits and give our hottest takes on naps. Then we answer a listener's question regarding the historical development of the practice of priestly celibacy. 

Send us a textINTRODUCTION:In this episode of the 'Sex, Drugs, and Jesus' podcast, host De'Vannon Seráphino continues the discussion on celibacy from the previous episode. Emphasizing celibacy as a necessary practice in the end times, the episode critiques the use of condoms as deceitful and anti-Christ. It discusses voluntary celibacy highlighted by statistics from the Kinsey Institute and VeryWellMind, outlining reasons such as emotional burnout and self-improvement. The host underscores the spiritual and energetic consequences of sexual actions, arguing that all sexual behaviors, including kissing and masturbation, create significant energetic ties. The narrative weaves in biblical references, situating celibacy as a spiritual purification process for a devoted, loving relationship under God's guidance. The episode concludes by rejecting the concept of condoms and promoting unprotected sex within committed, trustful relationships while warning against promiscuity and its spiritual repercussions.Playlists: https://music.apple.com/profile/DeVannonSeraphinoWebsite: https://www.SexDrugsAndJesus.comINCLUDED IN THIS EPISODE (But not limited to):·      Celibacy Is Not A Trend.·      Sex Negative and Sex Positive.·      Lower Your %.CONNECT WITH DE'VANNON SERÁPHINO:TikTok: https://shorturl.at/nqyJ4YouTube: https://bit.ly/3daTqCMLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/devannonEmail: SDJPodcastNewYork@Gmail.com REFERENCES:PsychologyToday: https://tinyurl.com/mryccaf5 VeryWellMind : https://tinyurl.com/4bpkr7mu Thanks for listening!!! Please follow us on YouTube + TikTok @SexDrugsAndJesusPodcast

SummaryIn this episode of the Right Side Up podcast, hosts Danielle Strickland and James Sholl engage in a profound conversation with Karissa Sovdi about the complexities of singleness within the church. They explore the societal and theological implications of viewing singleness as a problem to be solved rather than a valid and fulfilling life choice. The discussion touches on the idolatry of marriage and family, the importance of celebrating life milestones beyond traditional markers, and the need for genuine community and friendship. Karissa shares her personal journey of dismantling the ‘future wife' identity and embracing the gift of singleness, while also addressing the burdens and misconceptions surrounding it. The episode concludes with practical advice for living a fulfilling single life and the importance of inclusivity in church communities. Check out more from Karissa at Surviving Christianity Unmarried‘I never really identified as a person; I identified as a future wife'Takeaways* Singleness is often viewed as a problem rather than a valid life choice.* The nuclear family is idolized in North American Christianity.* Celebrating milestones beyond marriage is essential for community.* Eternal life and fulfilment can start now, not just in marriage.* Celibacy and singleness can be gifts that allow for deeper connections with God.* Friendship is crucial and often overlooked in discussions about singleness.* Comparison can lead to feelings of inadequacy and loneliness.* The church needs to create inclusive spaces for singles.* Marriage should not be seen as the ultimate goal or solution to loneliness.* Practical steps can help individuals embrace and celebrate their singleness.Chapters00:00 Introduction to the Karissa Sovdi01:32 Exploring Singleness in the Church03:50 Dismantling the Future Wife Identity07:43 The Idolatry of Family and Marriage11:02 Celebrating Life Beyond Marriage14:41 The Gift of Singleness and Celibacy18:50 Understanding Celibacy and Singleness21:15 The Role of Friendship in Singleness24:54 The Burden of Singleness in Church29:37 Reimagining Community and Connection32:11 Jesus' Example of Singleness35:17 The Crisis of Loneliness and Friendship38:29 Practical Steps for Living Singleness Well42:52 Conclusion and Resources Get full access to Right Side Up: Danielle Strickland at daniellestrickland.substack.com/subscribe

Send us a textINTRODUCTION:In this episode of the Sex Drugs and Jesus podcast, host De'Vannon Seráphino shares a powerful and controversial message, stating that we are living in the end times. Speaking as the holy Archangel Raquiel, he asserts that the world is in Armageddon and urges listeners to pray, fast, and read their Bibles. He also begins a series on celibacy, discussing its importance in the modern world. Interwoven with personal anecdotes and spiritual warnings, De'Vannon delves into religious teachings, the role of sex, and prophetic visions. He stresses the significance of making a Christ decision and denounces various societal and spiritual evils, declaring an imminent divine intervention. Playlists: https://music.apple.com/profile/DeVannonSeraphinoWebsite: https://www.SexDrugsAndJesus.com CONNECT WITH DE'VANNON SERÁPHINO:TikTok: https://shorturl.at/nqyJ4YouTube: https://bit.ly/3daTqCMLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/devannonEmail: SDJPodcastNewYork@Gmail.com Thanks for listening!!! Please follow us on YouTube + TikTok @SexDrugsAndJesusPodcast

In this episode, Vee shares her transformational ISTA experience— what is ISTA like (International School of Temple Arts)? What can you expect going to an ISTA retreat? The ladies dive into how Vee FINALLY found the tools to get out of her head and into her body, how to communicate boundaries lovingly, and awakening eros AKA life force. Get ready to hear about emotional release, using tantric exercises to let go of an ex, and the conversation to have before hooking up with a new person. What is ISTA? Deep dive into self. What drew Vee to go to ISTA?Breath. Sound. Movement: tool for moving through emotions. Intentions going into ISTA.Being your own anchor and not seeking outside validation.Aha Moments: tuning into the 4 energy centers to make decisions.Engaging with the world from a place of fullness.Communicating your NO and learning how to speak your boundaries. The Body Keeps the Score: “if it's hysterical, it's historical.” Using rituals and symbolism to let go of an ex. Dancing without judgement as a tool for getting into your body and awakening your sensuality. Approaching situations and ENM with curiosity. Working through triggers and wounds by “surrendering” to situations that are out of your control.Celibacy and back-of-the-bus hookups. Boundaries are awesome.RDBSM *TA: Relationship Desires Boundaries STI Health Meaning *Trauma *Aftercare. Top Tips for going to ISTA.Where to find us, and how you can support us:Instagram: @girlsgonedeeppod Merch: girlsgonedeep.com/shop Woo More Play Affiliate Link: Support us while you shop! WHOREible Life: Get 10% off your deck with code GONEDEEP at whoreiblelife.com Instagram: @wlthegameContact: girlsgonedeep@gmail.com © 2025 GGD Alchemy, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

Hi friends, happy Wednesday!  The other day I was craving a big fat bowl of Honey Smacks cereal with whole milk. When I was a kid, that was luxury to me. But I hadn't had them in forever so I didn't even know if they were still around.  You know me - I googled “HONEY SMACKS… DISCONTINUED??” Good news, they're around. Bad news… I found out about Kellogg's, the company that makes them, has been in some hot water lately.  We all know inflation sucks and it's affecting *everything*, especially food prices. Tons of families across America are struggling to put food on the table.  So the media asked a Kelloggs CEO for his reaction on that. And his response? He essentially said, [SARCASTIC] “MAYBE THEY SHOULD EAT CEREAL FOR DINNER.”  Awkward. But this did get me thinking - why *do* we eat cereal for breakfast? Well I looked into it, and I stumbled into the world of John Harvey Kellogg, the man behind Kelloggs. And my mind was blown.  Because behind that sweet little box of Honey Smacks is a freaky origin story. We're talkin' culty health retreats, yogurt enemas, and a crusade against masturbation.  So buckle up if you dare, for the Dark History of …Kelloggs.  I sometimes talk about my Good Reads in the show. So here's the link if you want to check it out. IDK. lol: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/139701263-bailey ________ FOLLOW ME AROUND Tik Tok: https://bit.ly/3e3jL9v Instagram: http://bit.ly/2nbO4PR Facebook: http://bit.ly/2mdZtK6 Twitter: http://bit.ly/2yT4BLV Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2mVpXnY Youtube: http://bit.ly/1HGw3Og Snapchat: https://bit.ly/3cC0V9d Discord: https://discord.gg/BaileySarian RECOMMEND A STORY HERE: cases4bailey@gmail.com Business Related Emails: bailey@underscoretalent.com Business Related Mail: Bailey Sarian 4400 W. Riverside Dr., Ste 110-300 Burbank, CA 91505 ________ This podcast is Executive Produced by: Bailey Sarian and Joey Scavuzzo Head Writer: Katie Burris Research provided by: Coleen Smith and Dr. Thomas Messersmith Special thank you to our Historical Consultant: Heather Arndt Anderson, author of “Breakfast: A History”. Director: Brian Jaggers Additional Editing: Julien Perez and Maria Norris Hair: Angel Gonzalez Makeup: Roni Herrera ________ So if you've been sitting on that “someday” idea, Squarespace makes it possible to launch it today. Head to https://www.squarespace.com/DARKHISTORY for a free trial, and when you're ready to launch, use the code DARKHISTORY to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain. Stop putting off those doctors appointments and go to https://www.zocdoc.com/DARKHISTORY to find and instantly book a top-rated doctor today.  Upgrade to shipping software that does more than keep up with your business. ShipStation propels it forward. Start your sixty-day free trial at https://www.shipstation.com/darkhistory.

This week, we're discussing being celibate. For us, that means our entire lives up until about 23 years old. It also means the first year of this podcast.  Join us on Patreon! No filter. No notes. No pants (optional). New episodes drop Thursdays at 8PM EST: https://www.patreon.com/goodchildrenpod HOSTS: Joe Hegyes & Andrew Muscarella EDITOR: Kenzie Edmondson LISTEN: https://linktr.ee/goodchildren FOLLOW US ON INSTAGRAM: instagram.com/goodchildrenpod   instagram.com/joehegyes   instagram.com/andrewmuscarella   FOLLOW US ON TIKTOK: tiktok.com/goodchildrenpod   tiktok.com/bequietjoe   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The lecture explores the intricate themes of celibacy, desire, and the concept of spiritual family within the Christian tradition, addressing the multifaceted historical and cultural contexts in which these concepts have emerged. The speaker begins by acknowledging the discomfort surrounding discussions of singleness, sex, marriage, and family, inviting attendees to engage with these complex topics while providing resources for those who may need a break or who wish to exclude younger attendees from the conversation.Building upon teachings from the New Testament, particularly those of Jesus and Paul, the speaker highlights the radical implications of their teachings on marriage and celibacy. The suggested elevation of marriage norms and the challenge presented to prevailing divorce practices in first-century contexts underscore the revolutionary nature of Christian teachings. The early followers of Jesus are described as fostering an environment of mutuality, faithfulness, and community that diverged significantly from the surrounding cultures, which were steeped in hierarchical and often abusive marital practices.In this talk, the focus shifts to the seemingly counter-cultural idea of voluntarily choosing celibacy for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven, drawing on scriptural passages that illustrate this principle. The speaker discusses how this notion would have been radical during Jesus' time, given the societal expectation that everyone should marry. The exploration of celibacy encompasses not only the sacrifices made but also the spiritual benefits and communal bonds that those who choose this path can cultivate.As the discussion progresses, the speaker delves into the historical emergence of the monastic movement in response to the shifts within early Christianity, particularly during the 4th and 5th centuries. This movement became a reaction against the growing comforts associated with mainstream Christianity and aspired to reclaim the radical love and communal living of earlier Christian communities. The speaker emphasizes how celibate individuals within monastic communities contributed to a redefinition of what it means to live faithfully, forging deep connections based on shared commitments rather than marital or familial ties.The lecture also addresses the potential gifts of this monastic revival, emphasizing a different understanding of community, desire, and time. The speaker urges listeners to envision new forms of community that do not rely solely on biological or familial connections but instead are built on mutual support and a shared pursuit of spiritual growth. This reframing invites contemporary Christians to create intentional communities that reflect a commitment to living out their faith together.Moreover, the exploration of desires presents a nuanced view that distinguishes between penultimate and ultimate desires, advocating for the fulfillment of longing through connection with God rather than through transient human relationships. By articulating a framework wherein desires prompt individuals toward divine connection, the speaker refines the discourse surrounding sexual ethics and intimacy, encouraging deeper reflections on personal calls for celibacy or marriage in light of divine aspirations.Finally, the lecture concludes with a call to reimagine time in the context of faithfulness and anticipation of heavenly fulfillment. By framing earthly status as temporary, whether married or single, the speaker proclaims the exhilarating hope in being eternally united with Christ, thus inviting the congregation to embrace a life of radical devotion characterized by self-control, holy aspiration, and communal support. The message resonates with an understanding that fulfillment in life transcends immediate desires and points toward the ultimate aim of finding satisfaction in God alone.

Thank you for sharing your precious time with us. Each summer thousands of young men attending Catholic Seminaries across the country return to their home dioceses to visit family and friends and help Parish Priests and their parishioners. In this episode we visited with 2 Seminarians from the Diocese of Lafayette, Reid Bourgeois and Matthew Gomez. Listen in as these two gifted young men share a little about themselves plus thoughts on a topic mentioned over 15 times by St. John Paul II in Theology of the Body, Celibacy for the Kingdom.

Rev. Kenneth Bomberger gives today's prayerful thought based on the day's Scripture readings. Begin your morning in word and prayer with Rev. Kenneth Bomberger, who shares scripture, hymns, prayers, and texts for the day, and also gives a short meditation on the day's scripture lessons. Submit comments or questions to: listener@kfuo.org

Thursday July 31, 2025 Main Theme: The condition of celibacy has dignity. In our last section, the condition of marriage has dignity as intended by God in its... for full notes: https://www.cgtruth.org/index.php?proc=msg&sf=vw&tid=3181

Send us a textWelcome to the Episode:In today's episode, we explore a question that's as old as the Church itself: Should I get married—or stay single? It's a question shaped by culture, personal longing, and spiritual calling. We turn to 1 Corinthians 7:1–7 to hear Paul's wise, pastoral, and often surprising counsel on marriage, celibacy, sex, and the spiritual gift of each.Whether you're married, single, widowed, or unsure of what's next—this conversation is for you. Let's challenge cultural assumptions, reframe singleness as a calling, and re-centre marriage as a covenant of mutual love and responsibility.Episode NotesKey Themes:Challenging Cultural Assumptions: Our world links happiness with romance—but Scripture has a different vision for human flourishing.Marriage and Celibacy as Gifts: Paul affirms both marriage and singleness as God-given callings—not commands or defaults.Intimacy and Responsibility in Marriage: Marital intimacy is a mutual, sacred duty—not a bargaining chip or personal right.Celibacy Is Not Second-Class: Singleness is not a failure or waiting room for marriage—it can be a vocation of focused devotion to the Lord.Spiritual Discernment: The real question isn't “Which is better?” but “What is God calling me to?” Takeaways:You are not incomplete if you are single.You are not more spiritual because you are married.Sexual intimacy in marriage is a sacred, mutual obligation—not a tool for control.Singleness is not a delay of purpose—it can be the purpose.The key question: Do you have the gift?Final ThoughtIn a world confused about identity, desire, and devotion, Paul's pastoral insight cuts through the noise: God's will for your life isn't about your relationship status—it's about your faithful response to His calling.Support the showTo listen to my monthly church history podcast, subscribe at; https://thehistoryofthechristianchurch.buzzsprout.com For an ad-free version of my podcasts plus the opportunity to enjoy hours of exclusive content and two bonus episodes a month whilst also helping keep the Bible Project Daily Podcast free for listeners everywhere support me at;|PatreonSupport me to continue making great content for listeners everywhere.https://thebibleproject.buzzsprout.com

Yooo people, hope you've had a blessed week

In this eye-opening and deeply informative episode, Dr. Vignesh Devraj sits down with fertility and relationship coach Sidanta to explore a long-overlooked aspect of conception: male reproductive health. From sperm quality and lifestyle choices to emotional intimacy, this conversation takes a bold, compassionate dive into the male contribution to fertility. The episode also shines a light on the role of a holistic, psychologically aware approach to conception. If you're navigating fertility challenges or looking to prepare consciously for parenthood, this episode offers not just Ayurvedic insight but also practical, science-backed tools and deep emotional intelligence.To receive a free summary of this episode, sign up at vigneshdevraj.comEpisode Highlights: Underrated role of male fertility for fetal healthTop lifestyle contributors to poor sperm qualityCelibacy practices to improve sperm healthAyurvedic Panchakarma for male infertilityRethinking health: Muscular doesn't mean fertileTimestamps:00:00 – 04:00: Underrated role of men in conception04:00 – 09:30: Top causes of poor sperm quality09:30 – 17:00: Celibacy, Low Libido and Infertility 17:00 – 19:30: Psychological fears around male infertility19:30 – 22:30: Aesthetics vs. fertility, and Panchakarma success story22:30 – 29:00: Factors affecting sexual performance29:00 – 39:00: Sedentary unhealthy lifestyle39:30 – 40:07: Closing Notes Guest Profile: Sidanta Goggate is a spiritual fertility and pre-postnatal coach with over 7 years of experience in Pranic healing, yoga, and energy medicine. She integrates ancient practices like Garbha Sanskar and Beej Shuddhi with modern methods to support conscious conception, hormonal health, and emotional healing in order to help couples prepare for parenthood.Reach Out To her on https://linktr.ee/siddhanta.gogate If you are interested in doing one on one Ayurvedic consultation with Dr Vignesh Devraj, please find the details in this link: https://calendly.com/drvignesh/30-minute-session-with-dr-vignesh-devraj-md-ay-istIf you are economically challenged, please use the form provided to request a free Ayurvedic consultation here. (or copy paste this in your browser: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSd29nHcrC1RssR-6WAqWCWQWKKJo7nGcEm8ITEl2-ErcnfVEg/viewform )BALANCE THE MIGHTY VATA - ONLINE COURSE NOW AVAILABLE What makes Ayurveda unique in its treatment approach is its practical wisdom on the concept of Vata. Vata is responsible for Prana - the life energy, nervous system - the master panel of our body, and our emotions. In Ayurveda, it is mentioned that controlling Vata is the most difficult part of healing and recovery. Recently, I have recorded a workshop on - Balancing The Mighty Vata which has over 6 hrs of content, with notes filled with practical inputs that can be integrated into our life. You can access this at https://drvignesh.teachable.com/For further information about Dr Vignesh Devraj, kindly visit www.vigneshdevraj.com and www.sitaramretreat.com Instagram - @sitarambeachretreat | @vigneshdevrajTwitter - @VigneshDevrajWe truly hope you are enjoying our content. Want to help us shape and grow this show faster? Leave your review and subscribe to the podcast, so you'll never miss out on any new episodes. Thanks for your support.Disclaimer: - The content of the podcast episodes is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical procedures, consultations, diagnosis, or treatment in any manner. We strongly do not recommend using the content of these episodes as medical advice for any medical conditions for you, others, or for treating your patients

In this week's very special 100th episode of Not Alone, Valeria sits down for a powerful and deeply honest conversation with writer and creator, Heidi Clements. Known for her unfiltered storytelling and viral presence online, Heidi opens up about aging, sobriety, 25 years without sex, surviving trauma, and what it means to live life on her own terms. The two explore the emotional realities behind choosing a nontraditional path, including living single, redefining intimacy, and navigating the invisibility many women feel after 50. They discuss how society conditions women to seek validation, how the male gaze has shaped generations, and why self-approval is the ultimate freedom. With humor, heart, and vulnerability, this episode is a candid look at healing, wholeness, and the courage to tell your story out loud. Follow Heidi: https://www.instagram.com/welcometoheidi/  Shop my look from this episode: https://shopmy.us/collections/1909988  Follow me: https://www.instagram.com/valerialipovetsky/  What we talked about:  00:00 Not Alone's 100th Episode! 00:14 The Humbling Journey of Podcasting 01:38 Overcoming Perfectionism and COVID Challenges 02:28 The Birth of 'Not Alone' 02:58 Finding My Groove in Podcasting 04:07 Introducing Heidi Clements 06:12 Heidi's Journey to Internet Fame 07:43 Navigating Social Media and Personal Growth 13:11 The Impact of Sobriety and Personal Trauma 16:06 Empowering Women and Challenging the Patriarchy 20:07 Generational Shifts and Future Hopes 36:00 Gen X and Menopause: A New Conversation 37:02 Cultural Silence and Women's Health 38:52 Living Shamelessly and Embracing Authenticity 41:57 Intimacy and Sobriety: A Personal Journey 45:43 Redefining Intimacy and Relationships 52:47 The Evolution of Self-Love and Acceptance 01:01:47 Visibility and Aging: Embracing Change 01:05:07 Final Thoughts and Reflections Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode I am joined by Ani Pema, an American nun in the Tibetan Buddhist religion and former swami in the Siddha Yoga organisation. Ani Pema recalls her childhood in Boise Idaho, her high flying career in fashion working for Vogue magazine, and how dissatisfaction with the American dream set her on a spiritual search. Ani Pema details her sixteen years of close discipleship and ordination under the renowned Siddha Yoga guru Swami Muktananda, her transformative encounters with the 16th Karmapa, and her subsequent discipleship under Tibetan Buddhist teachers such as Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche and Namkhai Nyingpo. Ani Pema also explains the powerful phenomena of shaktipat including the severe karmic consequences for its use, reflects on Western shaktipat gurus such as Rudi and Adi Da Samraj, and gives her heart advice for those who wish to follow the spiritual path. … Video version: https://www.guruviking.com/podcast/ep314-me-my-gurus-ani-pema Also available on Youtube, iTunes, & Spotify – search ‘Guru Viking Podcast'.
 … Topics include: 00:00 - Intro 01:06 - High flying fashion career 02:41 - Questioning the American dream 03:24 - Taking up yoga 04:02 - Meeting Swami Muktananda 04:55 - A precognitive vision 05:40 - Close study with Swami Muktananda in India 07:29 - Rigorous practice regime at the ashram 08:38 - Obliterating the self 11:02 - Muktananda as a vortex of energy 12:09 - A past life connection 14:47 - Swami Muktananda's 1974 USA tour 19:17 - The serious karmic burden of giving shaktipat 20:09 - Attending the 16th Karmapa 22:02 - Leaving Muktananda's organisation 22:55 - Becoming a disciple of Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche 24:24 - Becoming a disciple of Namkhai Nyingpo in Bhutan 26:03 - Working for Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche after he became famous 27:19 - You hire the guru to assassinate your ego 28:44 - Lichivi House 30:02 - Reflections on past gurus 31:23 - Rudi and shaktipat 32:28 - Adi Da's ego and meeting with Swami Muktananda 36:33 - 4 methods of shaktipat 38:31 - Health consequences of offering shaktipat 40:25 - Dangers of unauthorised shaktipat 41:48 - Mind to mind transmission in Tibetan Buddhism 42:32 - 4-6hrs of chanting per day 43:24 - Celibacy and guru controversies 47:27 - Comparing 16th Karmapa with Swami Muktananda 49:19 - Kashmir Shaivism vs Tibetan Buddhism 50:39 - Depression after Swami Muktananda's death 52:47 - Profound periods of purification 54:48 - Consequences of the spiritual path 56:23 - Do Tibetan teachers recognise Muktananda's dharma? 59:18 - Meditation is beyond tradition 01:00:46 - Ani Pema reflects on her experience as a practitioner 01:03:55 - Ani Pema's advice for practitioners 01:06:19 - Difficulties in following famous gurus … To find out more about Ani Pema, visit: - https://www.facebook.com/karen.schaefer - https://dayananda-lifewithandafterbaba.blogspot.com/ For more interviews, videos, and more visit: - www.guruviking.com Music ‘Deva Dasi' by Steve James

A conversation with author Melissa Febos on her latest novel, The Dry Season: A Memoir of Pleasure in a Year without Sex. Then, an expert on Iowa's most famous Muppet.

The punishment of Miriam, remission of punishment, the Septuagint and more in today's Open Line Wednesday with Fr. Mitch Pacwa.

In this third installment of my "DharmaByte" column and "UnMind" podcast, exploring the general subject of Zen in our Times, we turn to the last of three suggested topics from Hokai Jeff Harper, Halifax-based publisher of the STO newsletter: • To everything there is a season• The wax and wane of householder zazen practice• What we are feeling right now IS impermanence manifesting itself Hokai somehow managed, perhaps unintentionally, to progressively home in on the central experience of Zen on three levels. Starting with the most universal sphere of our experience on Earth, the seasonality that is an effect of orbiting the sun for approximately 365 rotations of the planet; then down to the social sphere of our practice as householders; and finally into the realm of the intimate, up-close-and-personal sphere of consciousness itself. What I call the "singularity of Zen." As I mentioned in the last segment, we often seem to labor under a misconception that because we follow the lifestyle of householders, we cannot hope to penetrate to the fundamental meaning of the teachings of Buddhism. But Hokai's assertion puts the lie to this assumption. If the Dharma is simply pointing at the present reality that we are experiencing, lifestyle choices cannot possibly have a determinative or dispositive, causal relationship in terms of coming to realization of our buddha mind. What we are feeling now is impermanence manifesting itself, to quote the above quote. Not only what we are feeling now, but what we are seeing and hearing, smelling and tasting, as well as what we are thinking. Or reading, if you are reading this rather than listening to the podcast version. You might quibble with Hokai's construction - "impermanence manifesting itself" - as it suggests that "impermanence" is some sort of independent force capable of manifesting itself, rather than an attribute of the changing nature of the universe. But let's not let mere semantics distract from the message. We are witnessing the "endless, unremitting, unnamable, unthinkable buddha-dharma," as Master Dogen expressed it; and we bear witness to IT mainly through the dynamic of change, or impermanence. Otherwise, we would not register seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, or even thinking, at all. If nothing were changing, there could be no awareness of it. As I mentioned in the segment on householder practice, renunciation in Zen is a matter of seeing through the delusional aspect of living, not a matter of lifestyle. Discernment in Zen is like Sri Ramakrishna's analogy that, like a swan, we need to be able to drink milk mixed with water, and drink only the milk. Or as Master Tozan analogized: A silver bowl filled with snow A heron hidden in the moonTaken as similar, they are not the sameNot distinguished, their places are known So this refined awareness of the nondual nature of reality, termed "emptiness," as opposed to "form" or appearance, is so close to ordinary reality, or perceptual duality, that it is nearly indistinguishable — like white snow in a silver bowl, or a white heron and the full moon — white on white. Buddha taught that the discriminating mind imposes a "false stillness" on reality, tamping down the uninhibited flow of sensory data to a dull roar. This enables us to maintain our balance and negotiate a dynamic, 4-dimensional spacetime environment.This is part of the natural process of "individuation" that sets in once we are born, and culminates in the conception of the independent self, which is a fundamental category error, according to Buddhism. The original alienation that is our fall from grace. It is not that Buddhism claims there is no self whatever. There is a constructed self, and there is a true self, according to this model. The prevalent perception of separation as an incarnated being is not entirely delusional. But it is incomplete — reification of a separate self ignores the rest of the story, the fact that all beings are interconnected, co-arisen and co-dependent. The Twelvefold Chain of Interdependent Arising, attributed to Shakyamuni, parses this coming-of-age story, slicing and dicing stages of development finely, like an Italian chef shaving garlic with a razorblade. This is similar to Master Dogen's fine discernment of reality — from a perspective uniting space, or existence, and time — as articulated in Uji—Being-Time, explored in some detail in a prior podcast. What he referred to as the "fine mind of Nirvana," or the "subtle mind of Nirvana." Master Sengcan, third Chinese patriarch after Bodhidharma and his successor Huike, points to something similar in Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind: In this world of Suchness there is neither self nor other-than-selfTo come into harmony with this realityJust simply say when doubt arises: "not two"In this "not two" nothing is separate nothing is excludedNo matter when or where Enlightenment means entering this truthAnd this truth is beyond extension or diminution in time or spaceIn it a single thought is ten thousand years Believing in the fundamental bifurcation of consciousness into self-and-other, body versus mind — the "Cartesian error" — is resolved in realizing that "you can't have one without the other," or as the more contemporary trope would have it, "both things can be true at the same time." "Neither-self-nor-other-than-self" indicates the True Self of Buddhism, undivided from the very beginning. "Not-two" is the mantra we conjure whenever any doubt about this arises. At the risk of repeating myself — with the caveat that these teachings bear repetition, especially in changing contexts — the last stanza returns us to the singularity of Zen: No matter when or whereEnlightenment means entering this truthAnd this truth is beyond extension or diminution in time or spaceIn it a single thought is ten thousand years The last line of which Matsuoka-roshi would encapsulate as "The eternal moment." So it all comes down to this. Like a fish-trap, reality ensnares us in its wide reach, and as we pursue our own realization — which, after all, is, or should be, our birthright — we find the trap narrowing again and again, until there is no escape, no turning back; like the exhausted swimmer at the halfway point, it is just as far, and equally risky, to try to make it back safely to shore as it is to continue swimming to the island. If we persevere, finally finding ourselves on the "other shore," we can see clearly that we have been seeing things all wrong, all along. There never has been a separate self to embody, let alone to defend against all comers, let alone any existential annihilation. In the not-two nonduality of Zen's reality, it was all like a bad dream, one that we essentially made up — with a little help from our friends and family, of course, not to mention the entire world of benighted people who fear death and, consequently, life. This is not to insist that everyone else is wrong about everything, and that only I and my like-minded friends from the enchanted land of Zen have the inside track. In one sense, it must be true that everyone has a hunch about this — an inkling that something is missing — and that that something is worth knowing. Otherwise we would probably all commit mass suicide, in despair. Which is exactly what it looks like we are doing, with an assist from the stewards, elected or not, of our commonweal. Can anyone say "lemmings"? But Buddhism never seemed to show much concern about the survival of the species. Celibacy is the quickest way to bring down the curtain on humanity - simply not giving birth to the next generation. Of course, the coterie of those who abjure bearing children is not likely to ever encompass a majority of the population, so that kind of extinction is not going to happen. No, it is more likely that Mother Nature's balancing act will bring about the demise of humanity owing to our disruption of her sphere of influence, so carefully nurtured to bring the miracle of life to the planet in the first place, as the goddess Gaia: In Greek mythology, Gaia is the personification of the Earth and a primordial goddess, one of the first deities to emerge from Chaos. She is often referred to as Mother Earth and is considered the mother of all life. And life itself is "fleeting as an arrow" according to Buddha. What we are feeling in the present is this fleeting moment, our life passing before our very eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body and mind in a vast network of frequencies in polyrhythmic synchrony. Our heartbeat is our metronome, the rise and fall of the breathing our connection to the thin atmospheric blanket embracing the earth. On a personal basis, there is no time to waste in foolish pursuits, as the sage Jianzhi Sengcan reminds us in Hsinhsinming: Waste no time in doubts and arguments that have nothing to do with this A century later, Master Sekito Kisen says it another way, in Sandokai: I respectfully urge you who study the Mysterydo not pass your days and nights in vain So Hokai does us a great service to remind us of the evanescence of spacetime in the personal realm, embedded in our social context as householders, surrounded by the world of Nature both nurturing and threatening us, finally floating in the constancy of the universal. Let Tozan Ryokai have the last word on it, after yet another century, from his Hokyo Zammai: Within causes and conditions time and season it is serene and illuminating
So minute it enters where there is no gap so vast it transcends dimensionA hairsbreadth deviation and you are out of tune It seems that all three of the great Ch'an masters are speaking with one voice, urging us to pay attention. There is not so much to their Buddhism after all, as one sage commented upon the occasion of his insight. So Hokai's assertion that what we are feeling right now IS impermanence manifesting itself is subject to Master Dogen's repeat comment: "All things are like this." Not only what we are feeling right now — but what we are seeing and hearing, smelling and tasting and yes, even what we are thinking right now — is, in one sense, impermanence. It is not only in front of your face, it is also behind your face, penetrating your hearing with no boundary, in and out through your nose and mouth (and other orifices), and enveloping your body outside and inside, clean and clear through your original mind. Tozan says, with stunning nonchalance, earlier in the poem: You are not IT — but in truth IT is you Buddha is attributed with saying something like — that there is impermanence means that there is permanence. And his followers were overjoyed to hear that. What made them so happy? Again recalling Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind: Change appearing to occur in the empty world we call real —only because of our ignorance So the nondual version of this insight is that IT is both changing and staying the same at the same time. This should bring about a great sigh of relief in all who realize it.

An expository sermon series on the book of 1st Corinthians.

An expository sermon series on the book of 1st Corinthians.

From 6 years in isolation to sounding the alarm, Buddhist Gelong Thubten reveals the hidden epidemic no one is talking about with Stress, Depression, Buddhism, Meditation, Mental Health and more. Thubten is one of the UK's most influential meditation teachers, who spent 6 years in isolated meditation retreats, including one which lasted 4 years. He is also the bestselling author of books such as, ‘Handbook for Hard Times: A Monk's Guide to Fearless Living'. He explains: The hidden mental health crisis that's silently destroying your emotional well-being. Why Western culture increases anxiety, depression, and disconnection The biggest myths about meditation and how to meditate properly.  The real reason your meditation practice isn't working. How screen time and phone addiction are hijacking your brain and inner peace. Why rejecting pleasure can lead to lasting connection and clarity. How unresolved trauma controls your mind and how mindfulness can free you. 00:00 Intro 02:32 Why Is Thubten's Message More Important Now Than Ever Before? 03:02 Thubten's Concerns About Western Society 03:51 Where Does Life Purpose Come From? 05:15 Is Search for Purpose a Misplaced Pursuit? 06:28 Why Is Western Society Increasingly Unhappy? 08:55 Is It Wrong to Find Meaning in the Pursuit of Goals? 11:38 What Led Thubten to Become a Monk? 13:50 Gelong's Difficult Past and Its Impact on His Mind 18:06 Where Do Negative Internal Voices Originate From? 19:03 Who Influenced Thubten to Go to a Monastery? 19:53 Thubten's Heart Condition 20:49 Key Aspects of Living as a Monk 22:25 What Are the Advantages of Celibacy? 24:23 Is Abstinence Sufficient to Overcome Compulsive Behaviour? 27:06 What Is Buddhism? 29:43 Thubten's Journey of Healing 31:33 What Is Meditation? 36:38 Benefits of Buddhist Practices 41:12 Can a Buddhist Mindset Go Hand in Hand With Effectiveness at Work? 46:45 Ads 48:41 How Does Buddhism Think About Victimhood and Trauma? 51:51 Breaking Free From Suffering 58:16 Can We Run Away From Our Pain? 1:04:49 How to Love Yourself When You Feel Broken 1:05:56 Coping With Grief and Loss 1:10:21 Focusing on the Pain in a Loving Way 1:13:17 The Practice of Forgiveness 1:20:16 Ads 1:22:12 Are We Living in a Culture of Fear? 1:25:06 How to Protect Yourself From Fear 1:27:13 The Gap Between Impulse and Action 1:28:13 Incorporating Meditation Into Your Daily Life 1:31:21 Live Meditation 1:38:21 How Can Meditation Change Your Life 1:41:39 Why Did Thubten Take Vows for Life? 1:42:26 Does Working on Your Mind Ever End? 1:43:15 The Gap Between Knowing and Doing 1:45:17 Is Meditation Retreat a Good Idea to Get Started? 1:45:54 Is Buddhism a Solution to the Current World Problems? 1:47:54 Question From the Previous Guest Follow Thubten:  Instagram - https://bit.ly/3FOxXlg  Website - https://bit.ly/45s6Zu0  Books - https://bit.ly/4ebqBF9  You can purchase Thubten's book, ‘Handbook for Hard Times: A Monk's Guide to Fearless Living', here: ⁠https://bit.ly/3ZDPwuU⁠  You can purchase Thubten's book, ‘A Monk's Guide to Happiness: Meditation in the 21st century', here: https://bit.ly/45xFE9O  The Diary Of A CEO: Join DOAC circle here -https://doaccircle.com/ The 1% Diary is back - limited time only: https://bit.ly/3YFbJbt The Diary Of A CEO Conversation Cards (Second Edition): https://g2ul0.app.link/f31dsUttKKb Get email updates - https://bit.ly/diary-of-a-ceo-yt Follow Steven - https://g2ul0.app.link/gnGqL4IsKKb Sponsors: Shopify - https://shopify.com/bartlett Vivobarefoot - https://vivobarefoot.com/DOAC with code DIARY20 for 20% off Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

JD shared with the show that he's over dating and decided he wants to practice celibacy. The show wants to know what makes people go celibate? Tune in to hear why listeners stopped doing the deed and their advice for JD. Follow us on socials! @themorningmess

JD shared with the show that he's over dating and decided he wants to practice celibacy. The show wants to know what makes people go celibate? Tune in to hear why listeners stopped doing the deed and their advice for JD. Follow us on socials! @themorningmess

JD shared with the show that he's over dating and decided he wants to practice celibacy. The show wants to know what makes people go celibate? Tune in to hear why listeners stopped doing the deed and their advice for JD. Follow us on socials! @themorningmess

Writer and professor Melissa Febos had been in a series of consecutive relationships for decades. Then, one particularly devastating experience led her to take stock of her dependency on sex and love. She says she was in "the right amount of pain" to make a change. For Febos, that period kicked off what would become a year of transformative celibacy. Her new book The Dry Season chronicles the way abstinence from sex and relationships allowed Febos to awaken to her desires, motivations and decisions in a new way. In today's episode, she speaks with Marielle Segarra – host of NPR's Life Kit podcast – about how this year changed her outlook on attraction, attention, dancing, and the divine.To listen to Book of the Day sponsor-free and support NPR's book coverage, sign up for Book of the Day+ at plus.npr.org/bookofthedayLearn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

This week's episode of CockTales: Dirty Discussions is an emotional rollercoaster with equal parts healing and hilarious. Kiki opens up about her new project xoMan Podcast, launching June 17th, and how she landed not just the hosting gig—but a producer credit too. Medinah shares her recent deep dive into celibacy, her new purpose-driven journey, and what it's like to feel truly lonely again. There's real talk on forever love, how our grandparents' marriages shaped our ideals, and why modern dating has us asking, “Where did the real men go?” Oh—and of course, there's a surprise golden shower story. Yes, you read that right. Whether you're in your healed girl era or still making mistakes for the plot, this one's for you. Topics Covered:Medinah's celibacy update & unexpected lonelinessVolunteering with Meals on Wheels & giving backKiki's XO Man Podcast announcement + favorite upcoming guestsReflections on forever love and generational relationshipsModern dating frustrations and “princess treatment” for men?!When your dress rips during an interview with David BannerTips for summer reading, affordable audiobook apps & library perksWeird Sex Story: A thunderclap headache and an unintentional golden showerCocktail of the Week:

"I talked to my wife, and she was like, 'You're probably tired. You've been writing this book non stop for six months, and you probably just need a break. Like, go get a gelato and chill out.' And I was like, 'I can't,' then I was like, 'All right, fine, I will.' And then I ate a bunch of ice cream and watched the Pam Anderson documentary on Netflix in the middle of the day. And after, I don't know, four or five days, I had an idea, and I was like, ready to get back to work," says Melissa Febos on Episode 472.Melissa is the author of five books of nonfiction, including her latest, The Dry Season: A Memoir of Pleasure in a Year Without Sex (Knopf).In this conversation, we talk about: Writing in community Literary stardom Being a weirdo Wile E. Coyote The jealousy dragon The theory of bottoms And the liberation of quitting thingsReally rich stuff. You can learn more about Melissa at melissafebos.com and follow her on IG @melissafebos.Order The Front RunnerNewsletter: Rage Against the AlgorithmShow notes: brendanomeara.com

Questions answered this episode:Can indulgences and scapulars make sense through the lens of Theology of the Body?How can I embrace lifelong celibacy after my wife left me?Are appearance-focused exercises inherently vain or can they be good?ResourcesCOURSE SCHEDULEEating the SunriseFill These HeartsSexual Needs Into Prayer YouTube VideoChastity: Reconciliation of the SensesGod Is Beauty Book---Ask Christopher West is a weekly podcast in which Theology of the Body Institute President Christopher West and his beloved wife Wendy share their humor and wisdom, answering questions about marriage, relationships, life, and the Catholic faith, all in light of John Paul II's beautiful teachings on the Theology of the Body.---