Podcasts about jultomten

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

David Druid ska utåtagera i julhandeln, Margret Atladottir läser poesi och julälskaren Shirley Clamp. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Från och med nu kan du bara höra hela veckans Morgonpasset i Sveriges Radio Play.Skådisen och hunken Hannes Fohlin ger oss sina bästa tips om hur man hanterar att få en dålig julklapp och hur han tolkar den ikoniska rollen ”Jultomten”. Matilda Rånge på P3 Nyheter om kritiken mot tyska polisen efter dådet på julmarknaden och smutskastningskampanjen mot Blake Lively. David Druids jultradition: Kolla på David Lindgren som sjunger ”O helga natt”. Juldrottningen Shirley Clamp, aktuell i årets julkalender berättar om sina 183 julkulor och hur det är att vara Borås ambassadör. Margrets nya gubbtix. Matildas hål: Returer. Poesi är årets trend för singlar.Tidpunkter i avsnittet:11:18 Nyhetsfördjupning: Kritiken mot tyska polisen15:36 Hannes Fohlin45:38 Nyhetsfördjupning: Smutskastningskampanjen mot Blake Lively1:01:00 Matilda Rånges obekväma falska hål: Returer1:12:34 Shirley ClampKapitellänkarna ovan leder till avsnittet utan musik i Sveriges Radio Play.Programledare: David Druid och Margret Atladottir.

Trollbarnen är nu på väg till Kalfjället tillsammans med Jultomten och den snälla tanten. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Minns ni hur det slutade igår? Jultomten hittade ett brev från Häxan Harriet där hon ju berättade att hon var sur för att hon aldrig fått en julklapp av tomten och att hon därflr stulit hans renar… Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Jultomten kliver in i studion och delar med en överraskning till hela Sverige och det firar vi med julklappsregn hela morgonen. I Familjerådet forsätter vi med en del två av "Vad är oddsen?" där vi delar med oss utav märliga eller unika händelser som vi har varit med om!

Vill du ha fler avsnitt? Varje vecka släpps ett nytt avsnitt i Godnattstund-appen! Finns där appar finns, eller klicka här: https://godnattstund.se/store God Jul kära lyssnare! Idag är det julafton. Såklart blir det då en julsaga. Den handlar om Polkanissen och den dansande jultomten. Eftersom Snowy lurar i tomten ett speciellt dansfärgnämne! GOD JUL!

Det inte bara drar, utan blåser för fullt från Sverigehatarnas desperata bortviftande av svenska traditioner. Vi möter på dessa rikspuckon i programmet - MEN, du kommer bli varm i hjärtat under vår efterlängtade julresa genom traditioner, magi och vidskepelse. Häng med på släden bort från det Sverige som vi inte känner oss hemma i, tillbaka i tiden till ett Sverige som en gång fanns. När onda väsen inte fanns i förorten utan i våra mörka skogar, och som tack och lov inte brände slädar...VEM ÄR DU? Kommer du (som kan hjälpa) till oss i Verklighetschecken som tomten, eller grinchen? Kommer du med julklappen som tar podden från 2023 och in i det nya året? Eller är du en grönhårig typ som sitter uppe på berget och lyssnar, men orkar inte hjälpa till? Om allt för många är sådana grönhåriga typer, så blir det ju dessvärre inte många program till. :( Vi hoppas på tomten här i slutet på året! :)Swish: 073 846 37 64 Meddelande: GåvaVälkommen till poddens sjätte julprogram! Det sjätte nyårsprogrammet, kan du räkna med på söndag! Men idag blir det minst sagt jul för hela slanten, och vi diskuterar:* Magi och vidskepelse i en liten svensk bondestuga för 150 år sedan.* Skogens små tomteväsen, julbocken och starten för julklapparna.* Det dukades även för vänner och släktingar som dött under året.* 6 stycken... underliga jultraditioner i andra länder.* Traditioner förkastas - "Bara grupptryck från döda människor."MEDVERKANDE:Programledare: Lelle Johansson.Gäster: Johan Widén, Carl Schiller & Elisabeth EngmanVI SÖKER NYA GÄSTER:VERKLIGHETSCHECKEN@GMAIL.COMFörra programmet:FÖRETAGET SOM FICK BE OM URSÄKT FÖR ORDET "JULFEST" https://www.spreaker.com/user/verklighetschecken/foeretaget-som-fick-be-om-ursaekt-foer-oAlla program:https://www.spreaker.com/show/verklighetscheckenNÄSTA NYA PROGRAM: På söndag - Nyårsafton 2023!Du hittar även Verklighetschecken här:PODDTOPPEN:https://poddtoppen.se/podcast/1516623687/verklighetscheckenSPOTIFY:https://open.spotify.com/show/3Lvy0LS8zfffv7ad60LwqoRUMBLEhttps://rumble.com/c/c-2636134iTUNES:https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/verklighetschecken/id1516623687?uo=4VECKANS TIPSLELLEArne Weise och Kalle Ankas Jul! (Hela!)https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3iw2s3ELISABETHTomten är far till alla barnenhttps://www.imdb.com/title/tt0201265/CALLEFilmnostalgi! Tomten (1941)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d75t3wanc-M&ab_channel=SHA70JOHANLeaving The World Behindhttps://www.imdb.com/title/tt12747748/

Utnyttjar tomten kvantmekanikens knep för att till synes befinna sig på tusentals ställen samtidigt?. Redaktör: Marcus Rosenlund. E-post: kvanthopp@yle.fi

r det verkligen Coca Cola som har skapat bilden av den moderna jultomten med rund mage, vitt skägg och röd tomtekostym? Hur kommer julbocken in i det hela? Och var bor egentligen tomten? Wikipedia säger sitt om jultomten. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Det blir mycket PRT, Personliga Rekordens Tävling, i det här avsnittet. Vinnarna på 100 km och 24-timmars, Beatrice Taavo och Jessica Ström, berättar. Liksom den andre 24-timmarsvinnaren Jon Enqvist. Och Conny Svahn sprang både 100 km och 6-timmars  och vann för ett tag sedan fjörde raka Huddingeleden. Och vem var det egentligen som sprang mest på ultratävlingar under 2023? Jo, en skejtare från Gemla som började med ultra för 1,5 år sedan... Ultraaktuellts egen jultomte har hittat tillbaka till mikrofonen, lagon till jul, och agerar efterlängtad bisittare. God jul! Vill du ge en julgåva, bli gärna månadsgivare via ultramarathon.se/patreon och stötta ultrabevakningen under 2024.

Ted och Kaj talar om hur man smartast väljer sittplats på tåget. Ted delar med sig av julklappstips och Kajs son gillar böcker.

Dagens avsnitt av Magiska Godnattsagor är inspelat på Nordpolen då vi besöker självaste Jultomten! Och vi får höra den hjärtevärmande berättelsen "Tomtens omvända jul", önskad av Sigrid från Stockholm. Följ med Sigrid när hon undrar om tomten någonsin ändrar sig om vilka barn som förtjänar julklappar. När julafton kommer gör tomten en oväntad förändring som får konsekvenser för alla. Det blir en lärorik berättelse om empati och att ge varje barn en chans. Som alltid bjuder vår kära Aida på spännande fakta, nu om den snötäckta världen vid Nordpolen. Så häng med på äventyret i denna värmande saga fylld av julens budskap. God natt och trevlig lyssning! Stötta podden och få tillgång till nya sagor! Gå med i Magiska Godnattsagor-klubben! Skicka in förslag på kommande sagor via www.magiskagodnattsagor.se Följ oss på Facebook & Instagram Sökord: magiska godnattsagor, godnattsaga, barn, läggdags, podcast för barn, barnlitteratur, ai, godnatt Låt mig veta om du vill att jag ska ändra något i beskrivningen!

Råd till jultomten Bryr vi oss för lite om alla barn som far illa av en närståendes drickande? Olivia Trygg Larsen besöker Narkopodden inför jul i ett samtal om sina egna erfarenheter av en pappa med en eskalerande alkoholproblematik. En dag några dagar efter jul fick Olivias pappa välja familjen eller behandlingshem. Vad valde han? Hör Olivias berättelse men även om hur Trygga barnen arbetar med att ge stöd till barn och unga varje dag i veckan, även på julafton. Tack till dig som lyssnar och delar våra avsnitt. Vill du stödja Narkopodden går det att swisha oss på 123 532 09 57  Programledare: Jessica Vikberg narkopodden@rns.se Speakerröst: Ulf Elfving Vinjettmusik: Magnus Rosén @magnusrosenofficial Klipp och mixning: Tjarls Metzmaa, Styrelsepost.se

Välkomna, ärofulla lyssnare, till en sagolik resa in i Frostvall, en by dold i snön där magi och julglädje flödar genom gatorna. Fem modiga agenter för Jultomten har fått en kallelse från Tomtens Verkstad. Något ondskefullt hotar julen, och det är upp till dem att komma till undsättning!    Detta är del 1 av vår julspecial! Den eminenta Amanda Stenback gästar oss och hjälper oss fylla er med julglädje!    Rollspelet börjar vid 09:20! 

God jul till er allihopa! Idag i vår julavslutning för i år så pratar vi om lite julrelaterade ämnen! T.ex att Jultomten anses vara en av Marvels mäktigaste karaktärer! Vi pratar om detta, men också: Blade kommer till Xbox! Ryan Reynolds läxar upp oss om läckor! Hur tror vi mutanter kommer komma in i MCU? Har Disney gett upp om The Marvels? Vi har en hel del att prata om i detta lite kortare avnsittet! God Jul och så syns vi igen efter årsskiftet! ------------------------------------------------------------- Stöd oss på Patreon! ⁠https://www.patreon.com/marvelnyheter ⁠Följ oss på sociala medier! ⁠https://www.instagram.com/marvelnyheter/⁠ ⁠Köp vår MERCH! https://huusko-illustrations.creator-spring.com/listing/marvelnyheter⁠ Du kan även kontakta oss med DM på insta eller via marvel.nyheter@gmail.com Linus: ⁠https://www.instagram.com/linusa92/⁠ Jonathan: ⁠https://www.instagram.com/huusko_illustrations/⁠ Jingel av Simon Sjögren

Camilla och Robin går igenom avsnitt 21-25 och pratar om hur Wilmer ska bli Robins förman, om varför man kallar det vuxenmobbning och inte bara mobbing, varför Marias strategi för att inte röstas ut är sämst och reder såklart lite i bråkveckan. Bli patron på patreon.com/robinsonpodden för att få tillgång till alla avsnitt.

Niklas Lindblad gästas utav Nikos Hristodoulou och pågarna tar oss igenom premiären av CL innan det blir dags för NLD. Är Raya ny etta? Hur mycket påverkas vi av att Rice är på planen? Skulle Smith Rowe fått mer speltid? Hur bra är Saliba? Efter det så blir det uppsnack inför matcherna som kommer i veckan Brentford och Bournemouth Missa inte att vara med och bidra till Bröstcancerförbundet och stöd vår insamling Arsenal Malmö | Bröstcancerförbundet (brostcancerforbundet.se)

Jultomten är vältränat. Vem hade kunnat ana det? I dagens avsnitt kommer vi att gräva lite djupare i Eriks hjärna. Det är viktigt för oss Personliga Tränare att ha en process när vi har en ny kund. Vad behöver vi ta hänsyn till? Vad kommer de ha för motgångar? Vad för typ av PT vill de ha? Vi tar hjälp av vår erfarna och lyhörda PT Erik Lavesson för att svara på dessa frågor med ett fiktivt case: jultomten. I dagens avsnitt går vi inte bara igenom slutprodukten av hur Erik skulle träna Tomten utan framförallt hur han tänker när han kommer fram till det. Samtalsämnen i avsnittet: Vad för kravprofil har Tomten? Hur tänker man när man lägger upp en plan? Vad för faktorer behöver vi ta hänsyn till? Hur toppar vi formen för Tomten? Vill du lära dig mer? Besök www.intensivept.se/advanced

Jultomten bäbis, kom lägg en klapp under trädet - FÖR MIG! Äntligen är den stora aftonen med jul framför här och det firas traditionsenligt med en klassisk dubbellucka. Vi ÄLSKAR ER underbara lyssnare (även om hälften av oss hatar kärlek) och vill tacka för att ni hängt med oss hittills och framåt. Har du lyssnat på alla luckorna i årets julkalender? Dela din favoritlucka på instagram innan nyår så kan du vinna finfina priser! Bara se till att tagga oss och skriv något trevligt. GOD JUL OCH GOTT NYTT ÅR från Molly och Martin

Tomtar, troll och och andra väsen har du säkert hört talas om, men dagen före dopparedan pratar vi folktro som rör just julen. Varför skrämmer man barn med läskiga historier och väsen?Vi har med oss Tommy Kuusela som är doktor i religionshistoria och verksam som forskningsarkivarie i Uppsala för Institutet för språk och folkminnen. Han forskar och sprider kunskap om folkliga föreställningsvärldar, folktro, mytologi och traditioner både på jobbet och i podden "När man talar om trollen".Kalevala + Nordisk MytologiFinlands nationalepos Kalevala som kom ut i en första upplaga redan 1835 har haft stor politisk innebörd när den finska identiteten föddes. Vad kan man se för likheter om några med vår nordiska mytologi? Enligt Tommy har man försökt att forskat kring kopplingar mellan "båda världar" under en lång tid vilket har fört med sig spännande resultat.VEM LÄT FINLAND CLAIMA TOMTEN?1984 var året då jultomtens postkontor öppnades i Mora, och först då som finnarna förstod allvaret i vad som höll på att ske i Sverige. Hör berättelsen om hur Finlands jultomte fick sitt världsherravälde, varför han fortfarande kallas julbocken i Finland och om han med sina åtta renar egentligen är guden Oden som red på sin åttafotade häst Sleipner?GOD JUL! Kalle Kinnunen & Sanna Laakso popula@sverigesradio.se

Juuuul, juuuul strååååålande jul- kom i julstämning med oss. Dock oklart om Ida-Sofia verkligen kan sjunga? Jultomten var historiskt sett inte den goa runda röda tomtefar vi känner till idag- honom kan vi tacka Coca-Cola för. Snarare var han 150cm lång och spinkig och att få en jul-KLAPP var inte en bra grej. Pepparkakor däremot, dom hjälpte mot allt- även diarré. Varde jul!För fler brain bubbles missa inte den redaktionella plattformenhttps://bublication.com/& Följ ‘Bublication' officiella Instagramkonto: @bublicationeller TikTok: @bublicationPersoner i Podd-duo & Instagramkonton:Ida-Sofia Klingspor - @idasofiaklKristin Bohman - @kristinbohman ‘Bublication' är producerad av Silverdrake Förlag via Acastwww.silverdrakeförlag.seKlippare:Patrik Sundén@patriksundenRedaktör:Marcus Tigerdraake, marcus@silverdrakeforlag.se@marcustigerdraakeKoordinator:Victoria Tigerdraake, victoria.tigerdraake@silverdrakeforlag.se @victigerdraake Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Glöggen är uppvärmd, pepparkakorna har kommit ut ur ugnen och Marvel-Nyheter kommer läsas upp! Vi har mängder att prata om idag! Vi pratar bland annat om: Finns Jultomten i Marvel-universumet och varför måste Blade döda honom? Är Galactus jultomten egentligen? Kommer vi få Henry Cavill i MCU? Finns det bara ett enda sätt för X-Men att ta sig in i MCU? Har Marvel hypen lagt sig nu? Fick Black Panther 2 mer i box office än första? Vem är huvudpersonen i Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.3? Kommer Adam Warlock vara dramats skurk? Har vi tillräckligt med glögg så det räcker för oss båda? God jul på er allihopa, och Gott Nytt År! Vi ses igen år 2023! Tack för ett grymt år med er! ------------------------------------------------------------- Stöd oss på Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/marvelnyheter Följ oss på sociala medier! https://www.instagram.com/marvelnyheter/ Köp vår MERCH! https://huusko-illustrations.creator-spring.com/listing/marvelnyheter Du kan även kontakta oss med DM på insta eller via marvel.nyheter@gmail.com Linus: https://www.instagram.com/linusa92/ Jonathan: https://www.instagram.com/huusko_illustrations/ Jingel av Simon Sjögren

Jenny Nyström skapade bilden av Tomten så som vi nu känner honom, i röd luva och på gott humör, fullastad med paket. 1941 hälsade Gösta Knutsson på den då 87-åriga konstnären. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Författaren Viktor Rydberg sa att Jenny Nyström kunde ”giva själsuttryck även åt de minsta figurer." Jenny Nyström hade gått på Kungliga Konstakademien och studerat måleri Paris i många år innan hon kom tillbaka till Sverige, gifte sig och försörjde en hel familj på sina många illustrationer av tomten.

You better watch out You better not cry You better not pout I'm telling you why Santa Claus is coming to town och Jultomten kommer kick your fucking ass! Är Violent Night en ny julklassiker a la Die Hard eller en bara en bit kol? Vi spinner även vidare på följetången som aldrig vill ta slut: Avatar! Spoilers börjar: 19min 46s Spoilers slutar: 1h 04min 53sek Rättigheterna till alla klipp och all musik som spelas i avsnittet tillhör respektive skapare och ägare. Intromusik: Hackers av Karl Case.

Är det verkligen Coca Cola som har skapat bilden av den moderna jultomten med rund mage, vitt skägg och röd tomtekostym? Hur kommer julbocken in i det hela? Och var bor egentligen tomten? Wikipedia säger sitt om jultomten. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Alla ni där ute som gillar sherry-lagrad whisky kommer att älska Bergslagens Santa 22, ja det säger i alla fall Daniel som drämmer till med 90 poäng och idel lovord till vad som, enligt honom, är årets sherrybalja! Dessutom så får Iain bekänna färg när vi provar High Coast Doubles som är en annan av Daniels senare favoriter. Vem som har rätt och fel får ni själva avgöra

I juldagens Kvanthopp hör vi om en teori rörande julgubbens förmåga att besöka hela världens barn under ett och samma dygn. Vi hör också om om varför vi egentligen firar just den 25 december. Redaktör: Marcus Rosenlund. E-post: kvanthopp@yle.fi

Är det verkligen Coca Cola som har skapat bilden av den moderna jultomten med rund mage, vitt skägg och röd tomtekostym? Hur kommer julbocken in i det hela? Och var bor egentligen tomten? Wikipedia säger sitt om jultomten. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Sveriges deppigaste tomte, den julshowaktulle komikern Nisse Hallberg gästar och rankar sina värsta jular. Vi pratar om hans show Tomten är ensam där han INTE kör stand-up och hur det kommer sig att han blivit Jultomten med hela svenska folket.

Ring P1 från Malmö om bland annat julfirande, den nordiska jultomten och Jerringpriset. Programledare: Sofie Ericsson, ansvarig utgivare: Anna Stenberg

Likte en jultomte som kamperar runt köpcenter med barn studsande på knät reser Mino Raiola runt i Europa och samlar in önskelistor från storklubbarnas sportchefer. Xavi förhandlar vidare om Ferran Torres, Aubameyangs framtid alltjämnt osäker och Chelsea behöver nya mittbackar.

In this new chapter of In Search of Santa, we discover the history of Christmas gift-bringers in Scandinavia, from the present day Julemanden, to the more ancient Yule Goat and the Jultomten!

Hawkeye har äntligen välsignat oss med sin närvaro, och vi ska såklart prata om de två första episoderna i dagens avsnitt! Vi kommer dessutom prata om Moon Knights likhet med Batman, Daredevil-Noirs super-kristna knogjärn, lite mer teorier och gissningar om Spider-Man: No Way Home, om hur Hulk-incest inte är nyttigt och det OUTGRUNDLIGA HATET mot Eternals! Sicket j**** avsnitt! Gå in å lyssna med en gång! ------------------------------------------------------------- Följ oss på sociala medier! https://www.instagram.com/marvelnyheter/ Du kan även kontakta oss med DM på insta eller via marvel.nyheter@gmail.com Linus: https://www.instagram.com/linusa92/ Jonathan: https://www.instagram.com/huusko_illustrations/

I det fyrtiofemte avsnittet av Tolkienpodden tar vi en närmare titt på boken Breven från Jultomten (The Father Christmas Letters, som den heter i original), utgiven 1976. Den består av den samling brev från "Jultomten" som Tolkien skrev till sina barn under många år. Även detta avsnitt är inspelat på distans, vilket tyvärr påverkar ljudkvalitén. Vi vill också passa på att önska alla våra lyssnare ett riktigt gott nytt år!Vi som utbyter åsikter är som vanligt Adam Westlund, Elisabet Bergander och Daniel Möller (även musik och klippning).    

Emil, Victor och Joel möts igen för att diskutera intressanta problem. Vad gör man om man köpt en för dyr present. Vad gör man om man köpt en för billig klapp (ja, jag skrev fel förra meningen stäm mig, det heter klapp inte present på julafton). Och framför allt... Hur blir man egentligen alpha på julafton?

I dagens avsnitt behandlas Jultomten, men även den folkloristiska gårdstomten ges utrymme. Tänd adventsstjärnan, värm lite glögg och häng på. God jul! See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Julen är här och det firar Bellman med att dricka alkohol och göra dumheter... (som vanligt alltså) See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Moa guidar oss genom partiledarnas julbord, Christopher ger Tegnell nya bra bortförklaringar, Charlotte hamnar i psykoanalys pga Margaux barnbok och Albin rekommenderar en ung moderat att flytta. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play.

Moa guidar oss genom partiledarnas julbord, Christopher ger Tegnell nya bra bortförklaringar, Charlotte hamnar i psykoanalys pga Margaux barnbok och Albin rekommenderar en ung moderat att flytta.

Är det verkligen Coca Cola som har skapat bilden av den moderna jultomten med rund mage, vitt skägg och röd tomtekostym? Hur kommer julbocken in i det hela? Och var bor egentligen tomten?  Wikipedia säger sitt om jultomten. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Tjenare! Idag läser jag upp en artikel om något som är väldigt aktuellt just nu, eftersom han kommer och besöker oss inom några veckor, och det är ingen mindre än jultomten! Han har en intressant historia, och den skiljer sig i olika länder, och jag bestämde mig för att skriva en artikel om detta. --- Om du är intresserad av att stödja det här projektet, då kan du bli patron! Då får du tillgång till kompletta PDF-transkript till alla avsnitt med övningsfrågor och förklaringar på svåra ord. Du kan också få tillgång till vårt chattrum där du kan skriva med mig och de andra där på svenska. Gå in på min hemsida, swedishlinguist.com, och följ länken till min Patreon-sida :) If you're interested in supporting this project, you can become a patron! Then you'll get access to full PDF transcripts to all episodes with practice questions and explanations of difficult words. You can also get access to our chat room where you can text me and the others there in Swedish. Go to my website, swedishlinguist.com, and follow the link to my Patreon page :)

I avsnitt 405 av Alex & Sigges podcast skrattar Alex Schulman och Sigge Eklund åt att en kristen elev blir hånad i skolan och jämför kristna med rasister. De hävdar även att jultomtens existens är mer sannolik än Guds existens – men det som är minst sannolikt av allt är ett liv efter döden. Micael bemöter deras argument tillsammans med apologeten Joachim Arting och försöker lista ut var bilden av Gud som "en gammal gubbe på ett moln" egentligen kommer ifrån. Anmäl dig till online-konferensen "Får kristna plats i skolan?" som går av stapeln 19 september: http://kristeniskolan.se/  Lyssna även på intervjun med Sigge i Dagens människa där han har en betydligt trevligare ton mot religiösa: https://dagensmanniska.libsyn.com/avsnitt-122-sigge-eklund  Avsnittet där Alex och Sigge skrattar åt kristna elever: https://poddtoppen.se/podcast/534137041/alex-sigges-podcast/405-det-luktar-svinrov  Svenska apologetiksällskapet: https://svenskapologetik.wordpress.com/  Har du frågor, kommentarer eller tips på vad vi ska podda om? Maila oss på jesusfolket@gmail.com Boka en föreläsning: https://helapingsten.com/boka/  Gilla Jesusfolket på Facebook! facebook.com/jesusfolket Följ oss på YouTube! youtube.com/helapingsten Och följ bloggen Hela Pingsten! helapingsten.com

Djupa avslöjanden och hemligheter i dagens avsnitt.Jonatan lär sig att stänga av ljudet på alla sina prylar under inspelning och det pratas om Jultomten,presenter, karriärer och vem skulle tro att dans är ett så stort intresse hos papporna? See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Jultomten, svamp, psykedelisk droger och mytologiGlöm inte följa mig påInstagram , Youtube &  FacebookLäsa gratis ur mina böcker & min blogg genom att Klicka här

Här kommer ett lite tuffare avsnitt. Ett tidigt minne där tomten brinner, thinnerburkarna står på rad och ett självmord, men då och då hämtar vi andan och låter skrattet vara med.

En julhälsning från Sveriges Radios Östersjökorrespondent. Jag heter Erika Gabrielsson och är Östersjökorrespondent. Det innebär att jag bevakar Finland, Estland, Lettland, Litauen och Polen. Så här på julafton kanske jag borde poängtera att jultomtens hemvist, Korvatunturi, också hör till mitt bevakningsområde. Låt mig förklara! Finländarna är av den fasta övertygelsen att jultomten bor i Finland. På finlandssvenska kallas han förresten oftast för julgubben. Rovaniemi är jultomtens officiella hemstad som turister kan besöka. Men frågar man finländska barn var jultomten bor så är svaret Korvatunturi i Lappland. Var exakt i Korvatunturi med jultomtens leksaksverkstad ligger känner väl få till förutom jultomten och hans hjälpredor. Därför är det mer praktiskt att hugade julfantaster kan träffa jultomten i hans officiella by Rovaniemi dit det är betydligt lättare att ta sig än till Korvatunturi. För den som har levt i tron att jultomten bor på Nordpolen, Grönland eller liknande, kan jag varmt rekommendera Mauri Kunnas barnbok från 1982 som heter Hemma hos jultomten. Boken behandlar allt som man bör känna till om jultomten i Korvatunturi. Jag hade inte läst boken på tiotals år men lånade ett tummat exemplar av mina föräldrar. I den snart 40 år gamla boken läste jag bland annat att tomtarnas fruar tröttnat på att stå vid spisen. De vill också ut i verkstäder och arbeta, de tycker att tomtarna kan laga sin frukost själva. En sak som tas upp i boken kan vara av särskilt intresse för Sveriges Radios lyssnare. Det är nämligen så att livet för tomtarna består av annat än arbete, och teater är en kär hobby. Enligt boken är tomten Petter ledare för tomtarnas teatergrupp. Han lär en gång i tiden ha arbetat på Dramaten i Stockholm men han slutade. Varför tänker du kanske? Jo, för att publiken inte längre trodde på tomtar, enligt boken Hemma hos jultomten. Jultomten har en rätt officiell status i Finland. Varje år visar tv-nyheterna inför julhelgen hur jultomten startar sin resa söderut med sina renar för att dela ut julklappar åt snälla barn. Man kan skicka en önskelista till jultomten i Rovaniemi och han har till och med ett eget postkontor. Jag besökte jultomtens by i Rovaniemi i januari. Att det var en månad efter jul märktes inte alls där jag trängdes med en massa turister. Julmusik spelades och det fanns en massa butiker som sålde alla möjliga saker. Det var trängsel vid det ställe som markerade polcirkeln. Jag ville så klart träffa jultomten jag hade ju kommit hela vägen från Helsingfors men kön var så lång att jag var tvungen att ge upp. Det visade sig att samma eftermiddag som jag besökte hans kontor, så var en grupp kinesiska skolbarn också där. Jag beslöt mig för att komma tillbaka en annan gång för att få en liten pratstund med tomten. I dag är det de långväga turisternas tur att få träffa jultomten, resonerade jag. Och turisterna är många. Att Rovaniemi ligger vid polcirkeln bidrar säkert till att öka mystiken och staden har medvetet arbetat för att locka utländska turister. Och massvis av turister strömmar till Lappland. Det talas till och med om att det tidvis är brist på arbetskraft, en svårighet är att arbetet i Lappland är säsongsbetonat. Men på julafton klockan 12 riktar många finländare inte sina blickar mot Rovaniemi, utan Åbo. Där utlyses nämligen varje år julfreden, enligt Åbo stad är det en 700 år gammal tradition. För många finländare innebär den här högläsningen som bland annat påminner om att den som bryter mot julfreden ska bestraffas hårt att det är nu som julen inleds på allvar och att det är dags att sluta stressa. Själv brukar jag försöka hinna med min traditionsenliga julbastu före klockan 12 så jag inte missar julfreden och nationalsången uppförd av en kör i Åbo. Och så hoppas jag så klart att jultomten kommer med några julklappar till mig, jag var ju trots allt snäll och lät turisterna träffa honom trots att jag gärna själv hade träffat honom då jag var på besök i Rovaniemi. Jag önskar er en fridfull helg! Erika Gabrielsson, Helsingfors erika.gabrielsson@sverigesradio.se

Det är dagen före den stora dagen! Thomas och Louise jagar efter jultomtens riktiga boende och hur skriver man mer personliga julkort digitalt? Flera olika länder gör anspråk på att vara Jultomtens hemland. Bor han på ett berg utanför Kirgizistan? Ligger hans hem i Finland? Hur ligger det till med Nordpolen då? Eller är det så enkelt att han bor utanför Mora här i Sverige? Allt detta reder vi ut tillsammans med Camilla Collett från Sagolandet Tomteland och Elna Nykänen Andersson, pressråd vid Finlands Ambassad. Om nu Jultomten bor vid Nordpolen, vem har då rätt till Nordpolen? Flera länder gör anspråk på Arktis, men hur ligger det till egentligen? Hans Corell, FN:s föredetta rättschef, kommer till studion och reder ut. Julkort i dagens digitala tidsålder har förflyttat sig från vykorten in i mailen. Men hur skriver man personliga julkort digitalt? Nanna Gillberg, som forskar på sociala medier VS verkligheten, är med och lär oss. Det blir även en ny version av den gamla låten Baby It's Cold Outside samt uppsnack inför uppesittarkvällen med med Gunnar Bolin. Programledare: Thomas Nordegren Bisittare: Louise Epstein Producent: Niklas Runsten

202 - Jultomten levererar by Lars & Marika Tapper

Hur beter sig julgubben för att kunna besöka alla dessa snälla barn världen över på en så kort tid? Använder han sig möjligen av en topphemlig kvantteknologi som gör att han kan vara på flera ställen samtidigt? Hör också om Nasas kommande familj av tunga bärraketer som ska ta amerikanska astronauter tillbaka till månen, och till Mars. Redaktör för Kvanthopp: Marcus Rosenlund. E-post: marcus.rosenlund@yle.fi

Avsnittet precis före jul handlar om skillnaden mellan den svenska jultomten och den amerikanska Santa Claus.

Tomtefar, vd för Tomten AB, gästar Franchisepodden även i år. Tomten är en av världens största franchisekedjor, men ändå är det få som vet att den drivs på franchisebasis. Vi får höra Tomtefar berätta om vikten av ett bra Tomterättsavtal, den ökade internationella konkurrensen, men även om den kommande semestern med familjen på den karibiska ön St. Lucia. Tomtefar gör även ett sensationellt avslöjande om varifrån Tomten egentligen kommer.

Julen är en våra absolut största högtider, en högtid full av mat, dryck och traditioner. Men hur gamla anor har egentligen jultraditionen och varför firar man egentligen jul? Ser man bakåt i tiden så finns det mycket som tyder på att troll och magi förr var en del av julen. Även om den nyare traditionen av julfirandet är med jultomte, julgran och julklappar så har julen i religiös bakgrund. Utöver det religiösa så var julen förr ofta en period då man faktiskt fick vila och njuta av årets slit och ett tillfälle då bonden och hushållet faktiskt fick äta sig mätta utan att ha dåligt samvete. Förr var maten det viktigaste.  Varför firas jul? I den kristna tron firas julen till minne av Jesus födelse, som i nära 2000 år varit huvudorsaken till julfirandet. Julen var tiden då gud blev människa. I detta avsnitt kan du höra:  - varför firar vi jul? - varför firar vi jul i december? - När och hur kom jultomten in i bilden?

#93 - Ricky & Scarlett Del 1 | Tillbaka i sverige, Krampus vs Jultomten, Kulturskillnader Ricky är tillbaka i sverige efter flera år Svensk kultur mot kinesisk Bannade spel i kina Krampus Vs Jultomten Kinas stängda internet WeChat + Mer... ( Obs. We pratar swenglish i detta episode ) https://spotify.brainpunch.se   BrainPunch Podden Följ oss på sociala medier för mer info och avsnittssläpp! Viktigt att veta! mycket av åsikter, skämt och ståndpunkter som podden innehåller är avsett för underhållning och komisk effekt och därmed inte nåt vi alltid till 100% står för! Gäster: Ricky: https://www.instagram.com/rickygranstad/ Scarlett Våra Sociala Medier & Poddplatser: Våran Hemsida: http://brainpunch.se/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BrainPunchM/ Livestreams: https://go.twitch.tv/brainpunchtv Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brainpunchmedia/ Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/se/podcast/brainpunch-podden/id1236118242 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/603TMNqgV0EjO15U2tMRAr Host & Medverkande: Andreas: https://www.instagram.com/s1esset/ Kenny: https://www.instagram.com/kenstarfighter/ Marika: https://www.instagram.com/marikalundells/ No: https://www.instagram.com/no7711/ Redigering & Producent: Andreas Källberg https://www.instagram.com/s1esset/ // En BrainPunch Media Produktion

Malipodden är tillbaka efter jul och nyår! Vi får höra spaningssoldat Jacobs första intryck av Mali efter Operation Rudolf, som några kanske har läst om på malibloggen redan. Firande av jul och nyår på Camp Nobel ska vi också dela med oss av till er som lyssnar. 00.00-00.55 Intro 01.00-06.11 Jacob om OP Rudolf och intrycken från sin första operation 06:20-09:40 Jul hos Ghana 09:50-10:55 Jacob om Julen på Camp Nobel 10:55-15:46 Jultomten kommer 15:46-18:20 Julmässa 18:20-19:22 Gott nytt år 19:22-19:40 Om nästa avsnitt

En familjehemlighet avslöjas, Jultomten kommer med en #Metoo-upplevelse och jakten på nätkärlek överraskar. Skräddaren Kent Vikström berättar om när han sökte en enkel sanning och istället råkade avslöja en familjehemlighet.  Ungdomspunkaren Anette Sallmander om när hon blev blixtförälskad och för första gången är ensam med sin kärlek. Men så dyker jultomten upp och romantiken förvandlas till en #Metoo-upplevelse. Romantikern Anders Holmberg som sökte kärleken på nätet. Men när dom äntligen träffades så var personen i verkligheten någon helt annan. Programledare: David Batra.

I Godmorgon, världen! dessutom krönika av Göran Rosenberg, kåseri av Helena von Zweigbergk, panelen och satir med Utkantssverige m.m. Första timmen:  * Jerusalem - går det att dela nu? * Terrorister stoppar turismen till Turkiet * Får självständighetsrörelsen i Katalonien ny kraft efter valet? * Känslorna som ledde fram till valresultatet i Katalonien * Varför är jultomten inte föremål för mer normkritik? * Krönika av Göran Rosenberg * Panelen * Besluten som formade Sverige: Vårdnadsbidraget * Utkantssverige * Julrim - tvång eller lust? * ANC har fått en ny ledare - vad händer nu i Sydafrika? * Abedjan - ekonomiskt centrum i Elfenbenskusten växer  * Vilken är tidernas bästa drottningskildring? * Kåseri av Helena von Zweigbergk

I en stad bor Allan och Allan han sitter uppe, ensam vaken om natten mot  julafton, och väntar tålmodigt på att Tomten skall dyka upp. Inte för att han vill ta reda på om Tomten verkligen finns eller för att han vill ha sina julklappar först av alla. Nä, Allan håller sig vaken och väntar […]

I veckans trötta avsnitt diskuterar vi bland annat Jultomten och Lunarstorm. Trevlig lyssning! ---------------------------------------- Avsnittsguide: Avsnitt 16 - Här och där Maila in till: hallflabbenpodcast@gmail.com Hemsidan: www.hallflabben.se Håll Flabben Merchandise Spotify-listan Youtube Nytt avsnitt släpps varje lördag kl. 09.00. ---------------------------------------- Veckans låttips: Stiko Per Larsson - Bröder Filmer: Skräck 1: The Little Witch Skräck 2: Alma Skräck 3: The Black Hole

Jultomten köper sig en fryst julklapp redan på hösten. by Sörmlandspodden med Pehr Flühr

Tja! Det kom inte någon podd förra veckan. Förlåt. Nu är vi tillbaka och pratar om rabalder på andra sidan Atlanten, huruvida politisk humor är död och hur Stoffes första spelning gick. Håll till godo!

Sven-Erik Svensson jobbar som tomte fråga honom vad du vill! Är tomten arbetslös på sommaren & vilken är den vanligaste julklappsönskningen? I Fråga vad du vill får du veta allt om tomtens vardag!

Ett avsnitt i fantasins tecken. Björn ser över en vårdnadstvist om en katt och ser in i framtiden efter lösningar. Kan den nya "demenskatten" få våra husdjur att gå samma väg till mötes som tidningarna? Michael har sänt från Göteborgs kommunfullmäktiges sammanträde igen och tar med sig de senaste filosofiska tankarna från SD därifrån. Detta i form av bland annat ett quiz vid namn "Jultomten eller Erik Nord?" baserat på SD Göteborgs gruppledares Lars Hanssons felciterande ur GT:s intervju med polismästare Erik Nord. Sedan har Jonathan fyllt år och Michael ringer upp födelsedagsbarnet för att ta tempen på feststämningen.  Medverkande: Michael Landén, Björn Sundin, Jonathan Ridings

Ett avsnitt i fantasins tecken. Björn ser över en vårdnadstvist om en katt och ser in i framtiden efter lösningar. Kan den nya "demenskatten" få våra husdjur att gå samma väg till mötes som tidningarna? Michael har sänt från Göteborgs kommunfullmäktiges sammanträde igen och tar med sig de senaste filosofiska tankarna från SD därifrån. Detta i form av bland annat ett quiz vid namn "Jultomten eller Erik Nord?" baserat på SD Göteborgs gruppledares Lars Hanssons felciterande ur GT:s intervju med polismästare Erik Nord. Sedan har Jonathan fyllt år och Michael ringer upp födelsedagsbarnet för att ta tempen på feststämningen.  Medverkande: Michael Landén, Björn Sundin, Jonathan Ridings

Det här hade varit ett superbra inlägg, dessvärre är det inte det. Med ca 4 veckors försening lägger jag äntligen upp den här episoden. Bättring (som vanligt) utlovas. Fredrik & Fredrik önskar God Jul och Gott Nytt År!!

var so = new SWFObject("http://www.awesomepedia.org/mediaplayer.swf","mpl","300","20","9"); so.addParam("allowscriptaccess","always"); so.addParam("allowfullscreen","true"); so.addParam("flashvars","&file=http://www.awesomepedia.org/podcast/media/HallaDar-90.mp3"); so.write("player90"); KLICKA HÄR FÖR ATT LADDA NER AVSNITTET I veckans avsnitt lär vi oss varför Jakob klätt sig i neongrön spandex under sina vanliga kläder de senaste 7 åren. Nejmen joho! Jahamen Nehe! Nejmen Jaho! PREMUMEMERA PÅ SPEED SKI: Efter att ha lärt oss hur man stavar ordet "prememumerema" så får vi en uppdatering från Backlundklanen om diverse världsmästerskap som tagits. MER MISCONCEPTIONS: Vi lär oss om Washingtons tänder, Polskt kavalleri, Xmas, True Detective, Jultomten, tjurfäktning och strutsar! CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE: Det blir även en smärre diktcast på det.