Podcasts about weihnachtsmann

Wir beginnen unsere Diskussion über aktuelle Ereignisse mit einem beunruhigenden Trend – dem dramatischen Rückgang der Frauenrechte in Israel. Anschließend sprechen wir über eine neue Welle von KI-Chatbots, die Jesus simulieren und spirituelle Beratung und Begleitung online anbieten. In unserem Wissenschaftsthema diskutieren wir heute über ein Problem, das Menschen in diesen Wochen besonders beschäftigt – Entschlackungsdiäten nach den üppigen Mahlzeiten über die Feiertage. Experten plädieren für eine nachhaltigere Ernährung während und nach dieser Zeit. Und zum Schluss sprechen wir über die Reaktionen von Präsident Trump auf die Anrufe von Kindern, die ihm ihre Weihnachtswünsche mitteilten. Der Rest des Programms ist der deutschen Sprache und Kultur gewidmet. Die heutige Grammatiklektion konzentriert sich auf Verbs Meaning „To Learn". Die Rockband Karat ist eines der Urgesteine der deutschen Musikszene. Vor 50 Jahren in der DDR gegründet fand sie dort schnell Anklang und durfte aufgrund ihrer unkritischen Texte auch im Westen spielen. So gelang der Band nach der Wende der nahtlose Übergang in die gesamtdeutsche Pop-Szene. Ich glaube, dass Ihnen unsere Geschichte über eine Kuh namens Mücke gefallen wird. Auf dem Weg zum Schlachthof büxte sie aus, bewies Mut und Entschlossenheit und nahm ihr Schicksal in die eigene Hand. Dabei hatte sie mehr Glück als Verstand. Und das ist auch unsere Redewendung für diese Woche. Abbau von Frauenrechten in Israel: ein Spiegelbild globaler Trends? Spirituelle Ratschläge von KI-„Jesus"-Chatbots Experten warnen vor Entschlackungsdiäten und empfehlen eine ausgewogene Ernährung während der Feiertage Trump verspricht, den „bösen Weihnachtsmann" nicht in die USA hineinzulassen Die Ost-Rocker von Karat feiern 50. Jubiläum Eine Kuh namens Mücke

Wir beginnen unsere Diskussion über aktuelle Ereignisse mit einem beunruhigenden Trend – dem dramatischen Rückgang der Frauenrechte in Israel. Anschließend sprechen wir über eine neue Welle von KI-Chatbots, die Jesus simulieren und spirituelle Beratung und Begleitung online anbieten. In unserem Wissenschaftsthema diskutieren wir heute über ein Problem, das Menschen in diesen Wochen besonders beschäftigt – Entschlackungsdiäten nach den üppigen Mahlzeiten über die Feiertage. Experten plädieren für eine nachhaltigere Ernährung während und nach dieser Zeit. Und zum Schluss sprechen wir über die Reaktionen von Präsident Trump auf die Anrufe von Kindern, die ihm ihre Weihnachtswünsche mitteilten. Der Rest des Programms ist der deutschen Sprache und Kultur gewidmet. Die heutige Grammatiklektion konzentriert sich auf Verbs Meaning „To Learn". Die Rockband Karat ist eines der Urgesteine der deutschen Musikszene. Vor 50 Jahren in der DDR gegründet fand sie dort schnell Anklang und durfte aufgrund ihrer unkritischen Texte auch im Westen spielen. So gelang der Band nach der Wende der nahtlose Übergang in die gesamtdeutsche Pop-Szene. Ich glaube, dass Ihnen unsere Geschichte über eine Kuh namens Mücke gefallen wird. Auf dem Weg zum Schlachthof büxte sie aus, bewies Mut und Entschlossenheit und nahm ihr Schicksal in die eigene Hand. Dabei hatte sie mehr Glück als Verstand. Und das ist auch unsere Redewendung für diese Woche. Abbau von Frauenrechten in Israel: ein Spiegelbild globaler Trends? Spirituelle Ratschläge von KI-„Jesus"-Chatbots Experten warnen vor Entschlackungsdiäten und empfehlen eine ausgewogene Ernährung während der Feiertage Trump verspricht, den „bösen Weihnachtsmann" nicht in die USA hineinzulassen Die Ost-Rocker von Karat feiern 50. Jubiläum Eine Kuh namens Mücke

Nur wenige verstehen, dass die nächsten 7 Tage (Santa Claus Rallye Fenster) über dein Portfolio für 2026 entscheiden können. Statistisch gesehen macht der S&P 500 in diesem Fenster (letzte 5 Tage Dez + erste 2 Tage Jan) in 80% der Fälle ein Plus von 1,3%. ABER: Wenn der Weihnachtsmann nicht kommt (keine Rallye), ist das ein massives Alarmsignal. In 5 von 6 Fällen folgte darauf ein negatives Gesamtjahr. —— Hier geht es zum Blog: https://www.julianhosp.com/de/blog/daily-snippet-29-12-2025 ---- Folge mir für ehrliche Finanz-Einblicke! Montag bis Freitag: Dein persönliches Finanz-Audio. Kompakt, klar und mit den wichtigsten Marktinfos für deinen Vorsprung: 

Am 17.12.2025 trafen sich wieder Mitarbeiterinnen der Stadtbibliothek Marzahn-Hellersdorf im Stern-Zimmer an der LesBar und redeten über Gelesenes der letzten Wochen. Die Getränke des Abends waren Aperol, Yogi-Gewürztee und Himbeerwasser.Kerstin Morgenstern, Sarah Schütz, Sarah Baecke, Aylin Rehaag und Renate Zimmermann hatten insgesamt 19 Bücher im Gepäck und labelten sie mit Adjektiven, die auf -bar enden. Denn nichts ist naheliegender, wenn man an einer Bar sitzt, oder? Falls Ihnen Wörter einfallen, die sich eignen, um Bücher zu bewerten, schreiben Sie eine Mail an zimmermannfrau@gmail.com. Wir freuen uns über jede Ergänzung.TITELLISTE:1. min. 00:01:23  Jochen Schmidt: Plankton fischen in Marzahn, 2025 (

Heute geht es um Rolf Zuckowski! Benjamin stellt euch "Lieber guter Weihnachtsmann" vor. Ist dieses Lied wirklich besser als " In der Weihnachtsbäckerei" ?

Wiederholungsfolge von 2024: Ob an den Weihnachtsmann, einen Himmel oder an einen Gott – an irgendetwas glaubt jedes Kind. Warum Glaube und Spiritualität Kindern guttut, was dann doch zu viel des Guten ist, und wie man auch als Atheist auf die großen Fragen der Kinder ohne Ernüchterung antworten oder in Trauer Hoffnung schenken kann, darüber spricht Christine heute mit der Religionswissenschaftlerin Regina Laudage-Kleeberg.Zitat: "Jede Religion kann Ressource sein, aber jede Religion kann auch so ausgelegt werden, dass sie einengt und klein macht."+++++Mehr von Regina Laudage- Kleeberg:WebsiteRegina auf InstagramBuch: Obdachlos katholisch*Mehr von Christine Rickhoff:InstagramBücher von Christine Rickhoff:Für Mädchen ab 10 Jahre: Du bist 100% richtig*Buch mit Tipps gegen Angst ab 7 Jahre: Keine Angst vor der Angst*Schwangerschaftsbegleiter: Du & ich. Das Mama-Buch*Zum Eintragen und Verschenken: Dein Leben, deine Geschichte: Ein besonderes Erinnerungsalbum*Schwangerschaftskalender: Deine Schwangerschaft Tag für Tag**https://www.eltern.de/services/affiliate-links-auf-elternde++++++++++++++++++++++Habt ihr Lob, Tadel oder Themenvorschläge und Fragen zu den Themen Partnerschaft sowie Erziehung? Schreibt Christine eine persönliche Mail an podcast@eltern.de. Außerdem erreicht ihr uns auf unserem Instagram-Account @elternmagazin oder folgt Christine auf Instagram @christinerickhoff. Wir würden uns freuen, wenn ihr unseren Podcast auf iTunes, Spotify oder Deezer abonniert und bewertet.+++Unsere allgemeinen Datenschutzrichtlinien finden Sie unter https://datenschutz.ad-alliance.de/podcast.html +++Wir verarbeiten im Zusammenhang mit dem Angebot unserer Podcasts Daten. Wenn Sie der automatischen Übermittlung der Daten widersprechen wollen, klicken Sie hier: https://datenschutz.ad-alliance.de/podcast.htmlUnsere allgemeinen Datenschutzrichtlinien finden Sie unter https://art19.com/privacy. Die Datenschutzrichtlinien für Kalifornien sind unter https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info abrufbar.

Sensationelle Ausgabe zwischen Frühstück und GänsebratenDer Weihnachtsmann war da und lässt noch ein kleines Geschenk am 1. Weihnachtsfeiertag liegen. In Folge 183 besuchen wir das Jahr 1976 und haben sensationelle Musik dabei. Doch vorher hält unser lieber Jens noch ein ausführliches Referat über den richtigen Genuss von Rotwein und bekommt vom Weihnachtsmann eine kleine Wundertüte. Musikalisch bewegen wir und diesmal beim deutschen Schlager der 70er, im Discosound und im Countrypop. Für alle Weihnachtsmuffel sei gesagt - diese Folge ist frei von Weihnachtsmusik. Nun viel Spaß beim Hören und lasst Euch den Gänsebraten schmecken.Es gibt (fast) alle Songs des Podcasts als Playlist bei Spotify (Link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4m3l3Xvt1EdFp2LxkooNmJ?si=7fa49d851b9440dd).Drückt den "Follow"-Button bei Eurem Streaminganbieter, um keine Folge mehr zu verpassen und wer es gut meint mit uns, bewertet unseren Podcast mit mindestens 5 Sternen bei seinem Streamingportal ;-). Jegliche Kritik und Euer Feedback könnt Ihr per Mail an podcast.musikgeschichte@gmail.com senden. Unseren Blog mit allen Neuigkeiten findet Ihr hier. (https://musikgeschichte.com/category/news/) Zusätzlich bieten wir ab Oktober 2023 einen eigenen WhatsApp-Channel an, der Euch alle News und Episoden-Releases direkt aufs Handy bringt (Link: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaE59eoGehEO4N14xm2S) Abonnieren! Ebenso sind wie auf TikTok zu finden. Folgt uns, freundet Euch mit uns an und liked unsere Videos (https://www.tiktok.com/@podcast.musikgeschichte).Vielen Dank fürs Zuhören.LinksFolge 46 - Juni 1976Folge 107 - Dezember 1976KI-Song zu dieser FolgeCredits Podcastintro/-outro by Suno Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Der geheimnisvolle Geschenkebringer… Mach's dir bequem und kuschel dich ein! Dieser Podcast wird durch Werbung finanziert. Infos und Angebote unserer Werbepartner: https://linktr.ee/EinschlafenMitPodcast Hier geht's zum Wikipedia-Artikel. Der Artikel wurde redaktionell überarbeitet: https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weihnachtsmann CC BY-SA 4.0 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Damals war ich fünf Jahre alt und glaubte, wenn auch mit leichter Skepsis, noch an den Weihnachtsmann. Das ist mir ziemlich deutlich in Erinnerung. Es war kurz nach dem Krieg, und wir lebten seit der Vertreibung aus unserer Heimat in einer Baracke in einem Flüchtlingslager. Anfang Dezember war es sehr kalt geworden, es begann heftigWeiterlesen

Ho-Ho-Horror an Weihnachten? Mit Batman, Robin, dem halben DC-Universum, dem Krampus und einem wirklich stattlichen Weihnachtsmann? Wo bleibt denn da die Besinnlichkeit? Das klären für euch die zwei einzig wahren Weihnachtsexperten des BatCasts, bei einer Tasse Tee am Kaminfeuer. Wir wünschen euch schonmal eine schöne Weihnachtszeit. 00:00:00 Intro00:03:58 Sächsische Weihnachten00:11:55 Wer ist eigentlich dieser Krampus?00:18:08 […]

Zu Weihnachten spricht Gerd Buurmann mit der Publizistin Birgit Kelle, der Historikerin Simone Schermann und dem Unternehmensberater Ahmet Dener über die Brandmauern, die mittlerweile nicht mehr nur in der Politik hochgezogen werden, sondern auch in Familien, Freundeskreisen, Kirchen und Synagogen. Stirbt die Kunst, sich zu streiten, statt sich zu zerstreiten, aus? Was bedeuten Familie und Freundschaft, wenn sich Überzeugungen oder Ideologien beißen? Woran glauben die Menschen in Deutschland noch? An sich? An das Land? An Gott? An Allah? Oder an den Weihnachtsmann?

Ja, Lotta feiert immer noch (seit Oktober) Geburtstag und zwar in einem Statement-Shirt. Also für alle, die heute Abend keinen Bock auf Weihnachten haben, zelebriert doch einfach Lottas Geburt.

Den Stern von Bethlehem hat es bekanntlich nicht gegeben. Aber an Weihnachtsgestirnen herrscht kein Mangel: Heute Nacht leuchten die Mondsichel, zwei Planeten und hunderte Sterne. Im Himmelsjäger Orion kann man auch einen Weihnachtsmann sehen. Lorenzen, Dirk www.deutschlandfunk.de, Sternzeit

Greta T. (33) ist die Art Frau, die aussieht, als würde sie in Werbungen lässig Zahnpasta in die Kamera halten: frisch, ehrgeizig, ein Energiebündel. Sie arbeitet als Filialleiterin einer Bank, verfolgt ihre Karriere mit Turbo-Drive und plant Weihnachten dieses Jahr maximal entspannt: Sonne, Palmen, Null Menschen.Doch dann kommt Linda ins Spiel, ihre beste Freundin seit der Grundschule. Dazu ihr Patenkind Elsa, fünf Jahre alt, zuckersüß und ausgestattet mit Augen, die Greta in jeder Sekunde komplett aushebeln. Und plötzlich sitzt Greta nicht im Flieger nach Barbados, sondern mitten in einem Familienplanungs-Drama.Als die kleine Elsa dem Weihnachtsmann nämlich ihren Wunschzettel überreicht, bricht bei Linda Panik aus: Sie weiß nicht, was die Kleine draufgeschrieben hat und Greta muss den Zettel UNBEDINGT retten und zurückbekommen. Am besten direkt vom Weihnachtsmann persönlich. Der Auftakt zur ereignisreichen „Operation Weihnachtsmann“.Greta stürzt sich tapfer in den Weihnachtstrubel, den sie eigentlich vermeiden wollte und erlebt dabei ein unerwartetes Abenteuer, das alles verändert. Eine Folge über Freundschaft, Loyalität, Weihnachtsmagie und die Erkenntnis,
 dass das größte Geschenk manchmal ein völlig unerwarteter Perspektivenwechsel ist.Frohe Weihnachten ihr lieben Drambertas und Dramovics!!!Dieses Jahr erwartet euch eine ganz besondere Folge, die - man kann es schon so sagen - in unsere Geschichte eingehen wird. Das liegt nicht nur an all dem Prunk & Glitzer, mit dem wir sie aufgeputzt haben, an den Geschenken, die wir miteinander auspacken, an dem Weihnachtslied, das wir für euch singen, sondern vor allem daran, dass wir unsere liebe Drama-Schwester Jasna verabschieden.Ja, es ist wahr: Jasna verlässt unsere Runde. Unsere geliebte Jasna, unsere strahlende Freundin …Wer kann es mit Jasna´s reiner Seele und ihrem fantasiegeladenen Humor schon aufnehmen? So ein Glück für uns alle, dass ihre serbischen Wurzeln sich in das goldene Wiener Herz hineingetrieben und dort Humorblüten zum Vorschein gebracht haben haben, welche - zur Freude aller Zuhörenden - die Absurdität des wiederkehrenden Scheiterns mit Lustgewinn und fantasievollen Gedankenspiele verbinden (= 101 How to survive the Kelter-Universum). Und dabei schafft sie für alle um sich Raum zum Entfalten. Ein ganz besonderer Mensch. So ein Glück, dass es sie gibt!Ihr Fortgang fühlt sich an wie eine Weiterentwicklung - vor allem für sie. Bei unseren „Drama Carbonara“-Sessions oszillieren wir zwischen unseren Gefühlen, zwischen Leichtigkeit und Deep Talk, zwischen Wut und hemmungslosem Spaß. Aber sie, die Königin des selbstlosen Zuhörens, der ehrlich gemeinten Empathie und der tiefen Beziehung, will mehr. Mehr Deep Talk, mehr Deep Feelings, einfach mehr. Sie hat eine neue Aufgabe gefunden, der sie sich voll hingibt. Die Trauerbegleitung. Dort spricht sie mit Menschen über den Tod und die Endlichkeit und lernt dabei unendlich viel übers Leben und das Mensch sein.Bei aller Traurigkeit, die wir in den letzten Wochen gefühlt haben, können wir euch aber doch beruhigen. Dieses Ende ist tatsächlich kein Abschied ohne Wiederkehr. Wir haben, damit wir es alle besser aushalten können, beschlossen, es so zu formulieren: Wir öffnen unsere Beziehung. Jasna verbringt jetzt mehr Zeit mit ihrer neuen Liebe, der Trauerbegleitung, aber wir halten ihren Platz für immer frei. Wenn sie Lust hat, mit uns zu lesen, kommt sie und liest. Wenn sie Lust auf einen Auftritt hat, kommt sie und wir stellen einen weiteren Stuhl auf die Bühne. Sie wird für immer zu uns gehören, zur „Drama Carbonara“-Familie. Zu den Gründerinnen, Erfinderinnen dieses wunderbaren Rituals, das unser aller Leben so bereichert und verändert hat. Wir lieben Dich Jasna. Für immer. (Wir weinen nicht, IHR WEINT!!)Wer der lieben Jasna eine Nachricht schreiben will, bitte an jasna.dramovic@dramacarbonara.at. Sie freut sich auf eure Gedanken und Fragen!Weihnachtliche Wunschliste:Jasna: Spenden an die Kontaktstelle Trauer der Caritas Spenden: https://www.caritas-wien.at/hilfe-angebote/zusammenleben/pfarrcaritas-und-naechstenhilfe/kontaktstelletrauer/trauernde-menschen/Caritas der Erzdiözese WienAlbrechtskreithgasse 19-211160 WienSpendenkontoKontoinhaber: Caritas
IBAN: AT23 2011 1000 0123 4560
BIC: GIBAATWWXXXParfum von Duft und Kultur - https://www.duftundkultur.at/produkt-kategorie/parfums/Tatjana: Fancy Fetzen von „The Real Real“ https://www.therealreal.com/products?list=39245474&sid=80x34c&name=TatjanaAsta: Das Parfum Chanel Coco Noir - https://www.chanel.com/at/parfum/p/113660/coco-noir-eau-de-parfum-zerstaeuber/Nora: Ein Goldzahn - https://www.instagram.com/paulpichler_?igsh=aDM2N3h3OXZ2c2pjEuch hat diese Geschichte gefallen, aufgeregt oder ihr habt euch darin sogar wiedererkannt?Das interessiert uns brennend!Schreibt uns in Kommentaren über Facebook und Instagram unter @dramacarbonara. Dort werdet ihr auch die in den Geschichten besprochenen Fotos finden und endlich sehen können, was wir sehen ... Falls ihr noch mehr fantastische Geschichten mit uns lesen wollt, können wir euch schon jetzt versprechen: das Repertoire ist unerschöpflich, wir staunen jedes Mal aufs Neue, was möglich ist. Abonnieren per RSS-Feed, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Deezer oder Google Podcasts ist der Schlüssel zur regelmäßigen Versorgung. Über Rezensionen freuen wir uns natürlich extrem und feiern diese gern auch prominent in unserem Social Media Feed.Jede zweite Folge kommt übrigens ein/e GastleserIn zu uns ins kuschelige Wiener Hauptquartier und unterstützt uns mit Theorien zu Charakteren und Handlungssträngen. Wenn ihr einen Wunschgast habt oder gern selbst mal vorbeischauen wollt, sagt Bescheid. Wir können nichts versprechen, aber wir freuen uns immer über Vorschläge.Wenn ihr Lust auf Extra-Content und Community-Aktivitäten habt, unterstützt uns mit einem Abonnement auf Steady und kommt in den Genuss des kompletten "Drama Carbonara"-Universums: https://steadyhq.com/de/drama-carbonara/aboutFalls ihr daran interessiert sind, Werbung in unserem Podcast zu schalten, setzt euch bitte mit Stefan Lassnig von Missing Link  in Verbindung. Verbindlichsten Dank! NEUER PODCAST!Wer in den neuesten Podcast, den Tatjana und Asta für HAPPY HOUSE MEDIA Wien produziert haben mit dem vielversprechenden Namen "Wo die Geister wohnen" reinhören mag - schaut mal hier & hier findet ihr den Geister Instagram Account! Es wird schrecklich schön!!--Link zur Podcast Hörer:innen UMFRAGE!Danke für die Mitarbeit und euer wertvolles Feedback :) & hier zur legendären Spotify Drama Carbonara Soundtrack Playlist - folgen folgen folgen!! liebe Freund:innen des unberechenbaren Musik-Algorithmus!

Kalli kann noch nicht schlafen. Heute war der Weihnachtsmann da. Kalli hat vergessen, ihm sein gemaltes Bild für Mareike mitzugeben. Doch wenn er ein Weihnachtsmann wäre, dann könnte er selbst das Bild zu Mareike bringen. Und schwups ist Kalli ein Kalli-Weihnachtsmann. Das Sandmännchen hat dir aber nicht nur diese Geschichte mitgebracht, sondern auch noch das Weihnachtslied "Fröhliche Weihnacht überall" mit 3Berlin.

Pinky wird wieder von einem reichen Mann gerufen. Diesmal geht es um einen Juwelenraub! (Ab 8 Jahren) Am Weihnachtstag soll Detektiv Pinky einen kniffligen Fall lösen. In der Villa des Senators Appleby ist etwas Schreckliches passiert: Frau Appleby wacht aus ihrem Mittagsschlaf auf – und vor ihrem Bett steht ein Weihnachtsmann! Aber nicht irgendeiner. Er hat einen Revolver in der Hand und steckt ihre wertvollen Juwelen in die Tasche! Frau Appleby fällt in Ohnmacht und der Weihnachtsmann verschwindet. Ist er noch irgendwo im Haus? Oder schon über alle Berge? Pinky hat nur zwei Stunden Zeit, um den Dieb zu finden, bevor die Polizei kommt. Ein spannendes Weihnachtsabenteuer mit viel Schnee, geheimnisvollen Gästen und einer Belohnung, die alles andere als gewöhnlich ist: ein Nashorn! ____________________ Ein Hörspiel nach dem gleichnamigen Buch von Gert Prokop, erstmals erschienen beim Kinderbuchverlag Berlin, 1982. ____________________ Mit: Urs Jucker (Erzähler), Daniel Axt (Pinky), Fabian Müller (Monster), Katharina Gieron (Prinzessin), Michael von Burg (Potter), Päivi Stalder (die Blindschleiche), Yves Raeber (Mr Sailor), Michael Neuenschwander (Senator Appleby), Chantal LeMoign (Mrs Appleby), Michael Schertenleib (Koch), Martin Hug (Chauffeur), Julian A. Schneider (Jameson) Musik: Martin Bezzola – Tontechnik: Basil Kneubühler und Tom Willen – Dramaturgie: Päivi Stalder – Hörspielfassung und Regie: Susanne Janson ____________________ Produktion: SRF 2025 ____________________ Das ist «SRF Kids Hörspiele»: Tolle Hörspiele für Kinder ab 8 bis 12 Jahren auf Schweizerdeutsch. Ob Krimi, Abenteuer oder lustige Geschichten vom Pausenhof – für jeden Geschmack ist etwas dabei! https://www.srf.ch/audio/srf-kids-hoerspiele-geschichten-fuer-kinder Hier geht es zu den Folgen 1-4 von Detektiv Pinky: Detektiv Pinky 1 – Wie Kittsburgh zu einem Affen kam https://www.srf.ch/audio/srf-kids-hoerspiele-geschichten-fuer-kinder/detektiv-pinky-1-wie-kittsburgh-zu-einem-affen-kam?id=085aa207-0a00-4b38-96d0-1bfb2e42dfab Detektiv Pinky 2 – Das Gespenst der Ashtons https://www.srf.ch/audio/srf-kids-hoerspiele-geschichten-fuer-kinder/detektiv-pinky-2-das-gespenst-der-ashtons?id=c9c0b00f-d8a1-436e-988a-76bb7ebfe418 Detektiv Pinky 3 – Nachts sind alle Katzen grau https://www.srf.ch/audio/srf-kids-hoerspiele-geschichten-fuer-kinder/detektiv-pinky-3-nachts-sind-alle-katzen-grau?id=AUDI20251112_NR_0047 Detektiv Pinky 4 – Der Kidnapper https://www.srf.ch/audio/srf-kids-hoerspiele-geschichten-fuer-kinder/detektiv-pinky-4-der-kidnapper?id=AUDI20251126_NR_0056

Diese Folge erzählt die Geschichte, wie ein fehlgeleiteter Anruf eines Kindes dazu führte, dass das amerikanische Militär seit 70 Jahren zur Weihnachtszeit den Weihnachtsmann überwacht und dafür sorgt, dass dieser ungehindert seine Geschenke ausliefern kann.

Auf der Insel streiten die beiden gestrandeten Mondflüchtigen noch darüber, ob es das Christkind oder der Weihnachtsmann war, der euch dieses Geschenk mitgebracht hat. Das diesjährige Weihnachtsspecial der Insel! Gemütlich vor dem Kamin verbringen André und Alex das festliche Beisammensein mit dem traditionellen Weihnachtswichteln, eurer Weihnachtspost und natürlich einer weihnachtlichen Top-3-Liste. Darüber hinaus gibt es ein paar weihnachtliche Fakten aus aller Welt und den üblichen Stumpfsinn, der auch am besinnlichsten aller Feste nicht fehlen darf. Lehnt euch zurück, schlürft an eurem Eierlikör und lauscht, wenn auf der Insel die Glöckchen klingen! Wir wünschen euch fröhliche Weihnachten und einen guten Rutsch! Diese Folge gibt es auch als Video-Podcast auf Patreon Unser Twitch Kanal

Es ist inzwischen eine schöne Tradition - die Weihnachtssonderfolge mit Falk. Wie gewohnt sprechen wir über die Herausforderungen die der Weihnachtsmann im vergangenen Jahr mit der Verwaltungsdigitalisierung hatte. Parallelen zu tatsächlichen Herausforderungen und Vorkommnissen sind rein fiktiv und natürlich nicht beabsichtigt. ;-) Kommentare  unter: https://egovernment-podcast.com/egov244-xmas/

Eine märchenhafte Krümel-Extra-Weihnachtssendung soll es werden. Allerdings ist Willi nicht der Märchenexperte, für den er sich hält, und so findet sich nicht nur der Weihnachtsmann in einem märchenhaften CHAOS wieder.

Die wahre Geschichte hinter dem Weihnachten das wir heute feiern ist: Kompliziert! Wie ist Weihnachten entstanden? Woher kommt der Weihnachtsmann und woher der Weihnachtsbaum? Viel Spaß mit der Folge!Zur Weihnachtsfolge 2024: https://open.spotify.com/episode/0nJ0dYhEowVozoTCVQybIx?si=998c3d55c5fe44a9Illustrationen zu allen Folgen auf: https://www.instagram.com/zeit.fuer.history/Simon Kellner auf LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/simon-kellner-3791162b3/Verpasse nichts mehr – jetzt beim kostenlosen Newsletter anmelden!Meine Website: https://geschichte-podcast.de/Du willst das dein Buch, dein Produkt oder Projekt in meinem Podcast vorgestellt wird? Dann melde dich gerne bei mir. Alle Kooperations- und Werbeanfragen bitte an: historymakingof@gmail.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Ob als Tafel, Weihnachtsmann oder im Adventskalender: Schokolade ist aus der Weihnachtszeit kaum wegzudenken. In dieser Folge von Food Facts tauchen wir ein in die süße Wissenschaft hinter dem Kakaogenuss: von der Bohne bis zur Tafel, von Aromachemie bis Glücksgefühl. Mit Lebensmittelchemiker Prof. Thomas Henle klären wir, was alles in Schokolade drinsteckt, warum Schokolade schmilzt und warum der Weihnachtsklassiker dieses Jahr so teuer geworden ist. Weiterführende Links und Literaturhinweise:Allgemeines zu Kakao und Schokolade Die Geschichte der Schokoladehttps://www.theobroma-cacao.de/geschichte/1492-nchr-bis-1918Kakao und seine Inhaltsstoffe https://chemie-in-lebensmitteln.katalyse.de/kakao-und-seine-inhaltsstoffe/Diplomarbeit Uni Graz: „Vom Kakao zur Schokolade“https://unipub.uni-graz.at/obvugrhs/download/pdf/1962730 Schokolade und Gesundheithttps://www.gesundheit.de/ernaehrung/lebensmittel/schokolade-id213299/ Veronese, N. et al., Is chocolate consumption associated with health outcomes? An umbrella review of systematic reviews and meta-analyses. Clin. Nutr. 2019, 38, 1101-1108. doi: 10.1016/j.clnu.2018.05.019 Macht Schokolade glücklich? Und andere Mythen...https://www.openscience.or.at/hungryforscienceblog/schoko/ https://www.planet-wissen.de/gesellschaft/lebensmittel/schokolade/pwieschokoladeundihrewirkung100.html Mineralölrückstände in Schokolade https://www.bfr.bund.de/fragen-und-antworten/thema/fragen-und-antworten-zu-mineraloelbestandteilen-in-lebensmitteln/ Schokolade und Nachhaltigkeit https://www.bmleh.de/DE/themen/ernaehrung/nachhaltiger-konsum/kakao.html https://www.bdsi.de/verband/nachhaltigkeit/nachhaltigkeit-im-kakaosektor

As Christmas Eve fast approaches, Santa and his elves are putting the finishing touches on festive preparations at Santa Claus Village in Finnish Lapland. The Arctic Circle outpost is buzzing with holiday magic as Santa delivers his verdict on naughty and nice, and shares a message of kindness and peace for the holiday season ahead. - Während Heiligabend immer näher rückt, legen der Weihnachtsmann und seine Elfen letzte Hand an die Festtagsvorbereitungen im Weihnachtsmanndorf in Finnisch-Lappland. In der Außenstelle am Polarkreis herrscht weihnachtliche Magie.

Ein Harry Potter Quiz für Fortgeschrittene!Statt eines Muggelquizformates haben wir eine ganz besondere Wihnachtsüberraschung für euch: Eine magische Gameshow!Zu Gast sind Sina und Julia von Typisch Ravenclaw, die gegeneinander und gegen Martin antreten. Das Format ist inspiriert von "Richard Osman's House of Games", einer wunderbaren britischen Quizshow.Es geht um einen tatsächlichen, echten, realen Muggelgewinn, nämlich eine Spende für den gemeinnützigen Verein ihrer Wahl. Wenn ihr euch für die ausgewählten Stiftungen interessiert oder sogar selbst spenden wollt, könnt ihr das gerne hier tun:Kinderschutzbund Rödermark: https://www.dksb-roedermark.de/Bundesstidtung Magnus Hirschfeld: https://mh-stiftung.de/(Ist übrigens kein Spoiler, zuerst genannt ist der Verein, der in der Folge zuerst genannt wurde)Wir hoffen, ihr habt beim Zuhören so viel Spaß wie wir beim Aufnehmen. Und jetzt wünschen wir euch wunderbare Feiertage, frohe Weihnachten und einen guten Rutsch in ein gesundes neues Jahr!Und wer bis hierhin gelesen hat: Kommentiert eure diesjährige Weihnachts-Ausbeute!!! Was hat der Weihnachtsmann/das Christkind/wer auch immer gebracht? Sophia muss es dringend wissen!​Und jetzt viel Spaß beim Zuhören! :)​Hier geht's zu unserem Whatsapp-Kanal: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbB8C00CRs1obJUivo2Z​Wir haben auch eine Patreon-Seite!​Schaut doch mal vorbei, es gibt Bonus-Episoden, Sticker und andere aufregende Dinge! Besucht uns auf den sozialen Netzwerken, unserer Webseite und erzählt euren Freunden von uns! Vielleicht haben die ja auch Lust auf einen Harry-Potter-Podcast!​Webseite: www.Happy-Potter.netPatreon: www.patreon.com/happypotterDiscord: https://discord.gg/2EajMaGXpcFacebook: www.facebook.com/happypotterpodcastInstagram: @happypotterpod​Und wir haben jetzt auch Playlists mit unseren Lieblingssongs:​Martins Playlist:https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2IBxDsPVm1UdNBiW2QkgEJ?si=rU6HLkoFQfGGjvab8g8yEQ&pi=e-bKuIHap7RWCu​Sophias Playlist:https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0kuOP0TujMhrqOWzLwUH1O?si=9LIZkc2nQTOajHPaqpP_RA&pi=e-tc6w0NgQRo-W Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Die Glöckchen klingeln, die Kekse backen im Ofen und die Christbäume stehen schon zum Dekorieren bereit: Weihnachten steht vor der Tür und die Fake Busters machen wollen einmal mit so manchen Mythen rund um die angeblich besinnlichste Zeit des Jahres aufräumen. Wurde der Weihnachtsmann wirklich von Coca Cola erfunden? Woher kommt eigentlich der Krampus und stimmt es, dass der Familienstreit unterm Christbaum vorprogrammiert ist? Bleibt skeptisch, aber hört uns gut zu…Guter Journalismus bringt Klarheit – und kostet Geld. Mit einem KURIER Digital Abo können Sie unsere Arbeit unterstützen.Finde uns auch auf Instagram.Abonniere uns auf Apple Podcasts oder Spotify und hinterlasst uns einen Kommentar oder eine Bewertung.Mehr unserer Podcasts gibt es unter kurier.at/podcasts Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In dieser besonderen Weihnachtsfolge sprechen wir am Heiligabend mit einem außergewöhnlichen Gast: dem Weihnachtsmann. Gemeinsam mit Moderator Volker Pietzsch werfen wir einen augenzwinkernden, aber erstaunlich fundierten Blick auf Themen wie Ressourcenplanung, effiziente Arbeitsteilung und professionelles Risikomanagement. Der Weihnachtsmann erklärt, wie er mithilfe klarer Ziele, realistischer Kapazitäten und eingeplanter Puffer Jahr für Jahr eine logistische Meisterleistung vollbringt – trotz Wetterrisiken, unvollständiger Wunschlisten und enormer Skalierung. Die Episode zeigt, welche Parallelen es zwischen der Organisation am Nordpol und einer nachhaltigen Vermögensstrategie gibt: Diversifikation, Flexibilität und langfristige Planung als Schlüssel zum Erfolg. Zum Abschluss teilt der Weihnachtsmann eine Finanzregel, die weit über Geldanlagen hinausgeht und perfekt zur Weihnachtszeit passt. DIALOG MODERIERT Volker Pietzsch Gast: Der Weihnachtsmann Sommese & Kollegen | Ihr Vermögen sicher klug aufbauen Webinare | Sommese & Kollegen Blog | Sommese & Kollegen

Rita und ihr Krokodil sind unzertrennlich. Zusammen erleben sie die lustigsten Abenteuer. Heute kommt Boris mit Lebkuchenteig vorbei und sie backen die leckersten Pfefferkuchen. Das Krokodil hätte sehr gern einmal gekostet, aber die sollen doch tatsächlich alle für den Weihnachtsmann sein. Das Sandmännchen hat dir aber nicht nur diese Geschichte mitgebracht, sondern auch noch das Weihnachtslied "Weihnachtsmänner" von Knister.

Wie schafft es der Weihnachtsmann, alle Geschenke rechtzeitig zu liefern, ohne in Flammen aufzugehen? Mit wie vielen Rentieren? Wie kommt der rundliche Santa dank Relativitätstheorie durch schmale Kamine? Und wie löst Quantenphysik sein Zeitproblem?

Es ist eine schier unlösbare Aufgabe: Alle Kinder dieser Welt an Heiligabend mit Geschenken zu beliefern – mit ein paar Rentieren und einem Schlitten. Die Quantenphysik kann hierbei hilfreich sein, allerdings müssten wir uns dann vom „klassischen“ Bild des Weihnachtsmanns verabschieden. Stefan Troendle im Gespräch mit Prof. Metin Tolan, TU Dortmund.

Zum Jahresende hat euch der Weihnachtsmann noch ein richtig dickes Paket unter den Baum gelegt. Thomas Broich, einst Deutschlands erfolgreichster Export nach Down Under, sportlicher Leiter des BVB-Nachwuchsleistungszentrums und Sehnsuchtsspieler aller Fußballromantiker, ist zum zweiten Mal bei Copa TS zu Gast. Er und Tommi sprechen über alles, was dieses Jahr wirklich wichtig war: Grätschen im Ruhrgebiet, die Kaugummis von Sir Alex Ferguson und das Fast-Champions-League-Aus von PSG. Eine Folge, die euch stärker in Erinnerung bleiben wird als Lukas Kwasniok im Ugly-Christmas-Sweater. Du möchtest mehr über unsere Werbepartner erfahren? Hier findest du alle Infos & Rabatte: https://linktr.ee/copa_ts

Auf einem der sieben Welttümpel schippern der gefährliche Pirat Rasmus Rotbart und die Lachmöwe Lavina umher. Es ist Weihnachten und Lavina hat ihr Nest geschmückt. Sie bereitet eine Überraschung für den neugierigen Rasmus vor. Er bekommt sie aber erst, wenn der Weihnachtsmann da ist. Doch Rasmus glaubt nicht an den Weihnachtsmann. Das Sandmännchen hat dir aber nicht nur diese Geschichte mitgebracht, sondern auch noch das Weihnachtslied "Wie ein Seemann Weihnacht feiert" von Wolfgang Rieck.

Das Sandmännchen hat dir viele Geschichten mitgebracht. Freu dich auf “Rita und das Krokodil” mit “Schnee”, Jan und Henry mit “Der Dinosaurier beim Zahnarzt”, Kalli mit "Kalli-Knusperhexe", Raketenflieger Timmi mit “Der Weihnachtsplanet”, die Moffels mit “Luzi und die Wunschliste”, freu dich auch auf Herrn Fuchs und Frau Elster mit “Feuerholz in Scheiben", das Märchen "Die sieben Tannenbäume” und auf viele Weihnachtslieder(“Weihnachtsmann" von Grünschnabel, "Leise rieselt der Schnee" mit Mai Cocopelli, "Schön, wenn´s Glöcklein klingt" von Paul Reinig, "Wünsche" von Kunterbuntd, "Rote Kerzen" von Suli Puschban, "Ein Zwerglein ging zur Weihnachtszeit" von Bernd Kohlhepp, "O je, Tannenbaum!" von Enno Bunger)!

Ho ho ho! In der großen Weihnachts-Spezialfolge von „Mit den Waffeln einer Frau“ lädt Barbara Schöneberger ins Pfefferkuchenhaus und begrüßt Sally Özcan und Günther Jauch. Es geht um Füße auf Wikifeet, sehr bequeme Stühle, Weihnachtskrawatten, Backöfen als Geschenke und die große Frage, welcher Keks man eigentlich wäre. Dazu: Cupcakes verzieren, blutrünstige Gedichte, Duftkerzen und Diddl-Erinnerungen, – und ein schwäbischer Weihnachtsmann. Eine herrlich chaotische, warme und sehr lustige Weihnachtsfolge.

Matze Knop hat sich mal wieder in Barbara Schönebergers kleines Waffelstudio verirrt. Und wenn er schon da ist, kann man gleich mal etwas Zeit miteinander verbringen. Es geht um seine komische Angewohnheit in der Kirche, Knusperzwiebeln und was das Beste an Weihnachten ist! Darf man noch „Last Christmas“ hören? Und was zieht sich Matze Knop an Weihnachten an? Aber es geht nicht nur um seinen Körper, sondern auch um Barbara Schönebergers steife Hüfte. Was es damit auf sich hat und was zur Hölle ein Knopener ist, wird sich alles in dieser Folge klären. Ihr solltet also reinhören. Persönliche Empfehlung vom Weihnachtsmann!

Netz, Dina www.deutschlandfunkkultur.de, Studio 9

Netz, Dina www.deutschlandfunkkultur.de, Studio 9

Netz, Dina www.deutschlandfunkkultur.de, Studio 9

Santa Claus's journey on Christmas Eve — from house to house and across all continents in one night — has always required all believers to have unlimited trust in the truth of the story. Despite all doubts, physicists have now tried to use purely scientific methods to prove that Santa Claus could actually make the journey — thanks to unexpected help from a German — Nobel Prize winner Albert Einstein. - Die Reise des Weihnachtsmanns am Heiligen Abend – von Haus zu Haus und über alle Kontinente in einer Nacht - erforderte von allen Gläubigen schon immer unbegrenztes Vertrauen in die Wahrheit der Geschichte. Trotz aller Zweifel haben Physiker jetzt versucht, mithilfe rein wissenschaftlicher Methoden zu beweisen, dass der Weihnachtsmann die Reise tatsächlich schaffen könnte – und das dank der unerwarteter Hilfe von einem Deutschen – dem Nobelpreisträger Albert Einstein.

Der Weihnachtsmann soll am Nordpol leben – doch wie lange gibt es dort noch Eis? Polarforscher Arved Fuchs erzählt kurz vor Weihnachten, welche Veränderungen er in Arktis und Antarktis mit eigenen Augen gesehen hat und warum das auch für unser Leben wichtig ist. Außerdem: Immer seltener weiße Weihnacht – Fehlwahrnehmung oder wirklich Klimafolge? Und: Wärmepumpe und E-Autos - Wo viele Menschen schon klimafreundlich investieren, die EU aber grade eine Rolle rückwärts macht. Eine Sendung von und mit Janina Schreiber, 18.12.2025

Auf dem Dachboden hat Luzi eine geheimnisvolle Sternenkarte mit Zauberschrift gefunden. Und immer wenn sie die magischen Worte ausspricht, plumpsen drei große Wesen in ihr Zimmer. Sie sehen zwar ein bisschen aus wie dicke Walrösser, sind aber die intergalaktischen Halbfeen Leopold, Panini und Bruno vom Moffel-Planeten. Und wenn Luzi reimt, kann sie sich von den Moffels etwas wünschen. Diesmal wünscht sich Luzi zum Weihnachtsmann. Sie will unbedingt noch schnell ihren Wunschzettel abgeben. Das Sandmännchen hat dir aber nicht nur diese Geschichte mitgebracht, sondern auch noch das Weihnachtslied "Wünsche" von Kunterbuntd.

Als wenn er es nicht schon schwer genug hätte, muss der Weihnachtsmann auch noch ein schwieriges Mathe-Problem lösen. In welcher Reihenfolge soll er denn all die Kinder besuchen, damit er nicht zu viele Umwege macht und die Kosten für das Rentierfutter nicht komplett eskalieren. Glücklicherweise gab es in den letzten 100 Jahren zahlreiche Fortschritte, sodass die Mathematik dem Weihnachtsmann nun sowohl theoretisch-allgemein als auch praktisch für seine Route eine zufriedenstellende Antwort geben kann. Wir schauen in nur 24 Minuten auf das Problem des Handlungsreisenden, einem wegweisenden Problem für die mathematische Optimierung. Quelle: https://eigenpod.de/eig056-der-weihnachtsreisende/ / Bitte abonniert den Original-Podcastfeed: https://eigenpod.de/feed/mp3/

Chaos auf dem Weihnachtsmarkt! Long John will unbedingt mit dem Weihnachtsmann sprechen – und landet mitten im Gedränge.

Milka hat seine Schokoladen gleichzeitig leichter und teurer gemacht - und schummelt mittlerweile auch beim Schokoladen-Weihnachtsmann. Durch einen Trick sollen die Käufer das teurere Produkt einpacken. Diese Verwechslungsgefahr nutzt Milka ganz bewusst, sagt ein Verpackungsexperte.Text und Moderation: Caroline AmmeSie haben Fragen? Schreiben Sie eine E-Mail an podcasts@ntv.deSie möchten uns unterstützen? Dann bewerten Sie den Podcast gerne bei Apple Podcasts oder Spotify.Den Podcast als Text? Einfach hier klicken.Unsere allgemeinen Datenschutzrichtlinien finden Sie unter https://art19.com/privacy. Die Datenschutzrichtlinien für Kalifornien sind unter https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info abrufbar.

Mathematik hilft dem Weihnachtsmann auf kürzestem Weg alle artigen Kinder zu besuchen!

Unser eingeflogener Weihnachtsmann kommt dieses mal aus dem Land von Pizza, Celentano und Ferrari, hat einen Kanals namens "Cinema Volante" und ist insgesamt ein lustiger Typ mit Konzentrationsproblem und infantilem Humor. Also genau richtig bei uns. Alessandro unterstützt uns beim Podcast, der euch filmisch auf Weihnachten einstimmen wird, egal wie hoch euer Scrooge-Level auch sein mag. Perfekte Untermalung für Driving Home For Christmas - Frohes Fest!

Nichts wünscht sich Michel mehr vom Weihnachtsmann, als einmal Weihnachten mit seinen beiden Eltern zusammen feiern zu können. Von Anja Tuckermann www.kakadu.de, Kakadu

Ich hab immer gedacht, boaah ey, der Weihnachtsmann hats gut! Der kann in seinem bequemen Schlitten herumkurven und seine Geschenke verteilen und alle haben ihn lieb. Pustekuchen. Manchmal hat auch der Weihnachtsmann das eine oder andere Problem...

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

Gut gelaunt in den Tag mit "Vorsicht Leif" auf NDR1 Radio MV. Der beste Telefonstreich in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, damit Sie morgens was zu Lachen haben.

Vom Nikolaus, Christkind und dem Weihnachtsmann – Wer bringt den Kindern im Dezember die Geschenke – der Nikolaus oder der Weihnachtsmann? Warum sind sich die beiden so ähnlich? Und wann kommt das Christkind ins Spiel?