Archive of Our Own

The holiday preparations were underway at the Sattler-Grant household. Most of it was done thanks to Ellie’s yearly experience in readying a household for a large party. The number of guests this year have certainly added up. Of course, they were expecting Charlie and Laura’s families; in addition to Mark and his wife, and now the Dearing-Grady-Lockwood family. The only one missing from the festivities was a certain mathematician.

Ian Malcolm did have his own family obligations… five children, including just as many grandchildren. His hands were chaotically full as it were.

Not that this bothered a certain paleontologist. Despite the many years of Alan’s irritation towards Ian, his feelings for him have now become lukewarm, especially after the fall of Biosyn.

Even though it had been several years since those events, Alan was still amazed at how much changed in a short period of time. For starters, it was the fact that Ellie Sattler—the love of his life and the one he let get away—came rushing back like an F5 twister with a request for him to help join her in bringing down Biosyn’s nefarious apocalyptic plot that would have hastened the extinction of the human race and control over the world’s food supply. Then on top of the mayhem and the semi-decent espionage on their part, they had rekindled the flame that had apparently never fully extinguished.

It wasn’t long after their testimony given at Washington, D.C. that Alan and Ellie were done waiting around and exchanged their vows in front of the justice of the peace. After all, they had waited a lifetime for this to become a permanent deal. Afterwards, everything fell into place. Alan was reintroduced to Ellie’s children, and he had been welcomed into the family with the same exuberance that they had inherently received from their mother. As for Mark Degler, Ellie’s former husband was still largely in the picture due to Charlie and Laura, and the two men eventually forged a tentative friendship. No doubt there had been some lingering suspicion about Alan’s “platonic feelings” with his then-wife at the time, but Mark had remarried a year ago, and any previous tension had vanished. Alan suspected Anna—the new Mrs. Degler—had a hand in that.

Furthermore, the Sattler-Grant family also gained a brand-new extended family to the mix. Dr. Alan Grant… the man who couldn’t stand children of any age… had instantly bonded with Maisie Lockwood during their escape out of Biosyn, and the subsequential life-threatening moments had solidified that bond when he tagged along to help her and her pseudo-father Owen capture the baby raptor, Beta. That had been an educational experience for the older man to corral that raptor and it did lead to quite a discussion with Owen about his research.

Naturally, Ellie had her own bonding experience with Maisie’s pseudo-mother Claire. Ellie could sense the young woman’s desire to be the mother that Maisie deserved, and that also led to additional conversations about parenting.

Suffice to say, it didn’t take long for Ellie and Alan to unofficially adopt the trio.

But the extended family didn’t stop there. There was also the fighter pilot Kayla Watts and the whistleblower Ramsay Cole. Unfortunately, Kayla was busy during this time of year with the aerial deliveries she was making and promised to drop by in time for New Years. As for Ramsay, the big surprise had been to learn that he was actually Ian Malcolm’s son. His first ex-wife had given birth to two kids… Kelly and then Ramsay. As he was four years younger than his sister and his parents had split a month after he was born, Ramsay had spent most of his childhood growing up with his mother, but Ian still played a big role in his life. So, when he uncovered what Dodgson had been doing with Dr. Wu, it made sense he would reach out to his father for help. It also worked in their favor to keep their connection on the downlow to avoid arousing suspicion that they were working together.

It went without saying that Ramsay wasn’t joining them either.

It was all right considering the length of their current guest list. Charlie and his wife, Christine, and Charlie’s daughter Isabella (mother was a previous girlfriend) and their son Sammy; and Laura with her fiancé, Max. Laura was expecting their first child so there had been the mixture of wedding and baby planning with her mother along with Christmas.

Speaking of little Izzy…

Alan still wasn’t convinced about the task he had been provided to do for this year. Ellie told him that he was perfect, and it would really make the grandchildren go nuts with excitement. Even Laura couldn’t resist in adding her two cents to her stepfather, warmly reminding him that he did have a certain St. Nick glow about him.

Yes… Alan Grant was playing Santa Claus. It had all stemmed from a misunderstanding when he had met his step-granddaughter for the first time. It had been a couple of weeks after he and Ellie had gotten married when she had invited her kids over for dinner. It had also been Charlie’s turn to have Izzy who had turned one a month prior. She took one look at Alan and her little blue eyes turned wide as saucers as she gasped, “Santa!”

Of course, the instinct to point out the obvious why he wasn’t Santa was something he was going to do, but Charlie had gently corrected her that he was “Grandpa Alan.” Yet, the little girl remained adamant in her convictions for months until she became slightly older when she finally started calling him “Ganpa Alan.” But the damage had been done and his stepchildren would fondly call him “Santa” when Izzy wasn’t around to hear to tease him.

He still didn’t get it. He didn’t have a portly belly like Father Christmas. Well, he did have a gut, but it wasn’t enough to confuse him as Jolly St. Nick. And his beard—while silver and white—wasn’t even close to being long or the curly snow white associated with Santa. Ellie took pity on her husband and explained that it didn’t matter he didn’t look like a carbon copy of the fable myth. The fact he had a beard that was similar in color to Santa was all the evidence that Izzy needed.

“All kids see an older man with a white beard, and they jump to that conclusion,” she told him.

“Okay, I guess… but I’m not that old, am I?” Alan asked, worriedly.

Ellie laughed. “No, honey. You’re a silver fox.”

It was another slang reference that Alan didn’t want to admit he didn’t understand. What is with people nowadays having all these comparisons with age and animals?

Nevertheless, long story short… Alan was Santa Claus for the joyful and happy memories to give to his grandchildren. Really, it was a blessing that Ian Malcolm wasn’t attending. Alan didn’t think he could take any ribbing from him if he knew. He already put his foot down and told Ellie that any pictures taken were to remain within the immediate family.

As for their other guests… Alan was going to have a “chat” with Owen to make sure he wasn’t tempted to post them around. He could trust Claire not to share in the humiliation. And Maisie? Well, if she didn’t want her parents to know about a certain boy, then she was also going to keep those pictures to herself.

xxXXxx

It was a couple of days before Christmas Eve when their guests were starting to arrive. Charlie’s and Laura’s bedrooms were cleaned and ready for them. They even had a crib for baby Sam and Izzy’s Frozen toddler bed set up in Charlie’s room. The guest bedroom on the main floor was reserved for Mark and Anna, who were joining them on Christmas Eve. Ellie wouldn’t hear any arguments from her ex-husband as she pointed out there will be drinking and the weather reports on snow, plus they could be there in the morning for the grandchildren. The basement was finished with another guest bedroom added for Claire and Owen. The couch in the basement also doubled as a bed for Maisie.

The basement project had been a big help from none other than Owen himself. After having done his own renovations with his family’s cabin home, he was all too happy to assist Alan when he and Ellie decided they wanted their home to include the newest family members too.

It was Owen, Claire, and Maisie who came first, and then the day before Christmas Eve was Laura and Max, followed by Charlie’s family, and lastly on Christmas Eve, Mark and his wife.

With everyone finally there, the celebrations could begin.

The snow had been piling up for the last few weeks, which allowed each family to participate in a Snowman Building Contest (first prize to Charlie Degler and family) and the inevitable snow fight between the younger family members (courtesy of Owen and Maisie). They eventually returned inside the house for hot chocolate, sugar and gingerbread cookies, and a couple Christmas movies that have been a staple tradition for the elder Degler children (Christmas Vacation and Jim Carrey’s Grinch). This led to watching the classic stop-action animated Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer that was a favorite for Owen and Claire. Maisie was trying to stay as the aloof eighteen-year-old, rolling her eyes when she could at her parents’ childish wonder, but she was also secretly enjoying the movies too.

Dinner followed in the early evening with a huge feast that did not end in any disaster (unlike the Griswold’s). After dinner, Owen surprised the adults with his special eggnog recipe. Sadly, Laura and Christine couldn’t partake (pregnancy and breastfeeding baby still), but he did make a non-alcoholic one for them. Izzy didn’t care for it, but she did love his hot apple cider. And Maisie was allowed to drink the adult beverage in moderation.

The clock was ticking down for when Alan was going to have to make his sneak escape to get dressed as Santa. His outfit and bag of presents was waiting for him in the garage where he could get ready and then knock on the front door to greet Izzy. Sam was still pretty young not to recognize Santa, but Charlie and Christine assured them that they got a photo of the kids with a mall Santa without a problem. Apparently, Sam had been agog by Santa. Anyways, he was going to enter the house, ringing his sleigh bells where he will pass out the gifts to everyone, sing a couple of Christmas songs, and then head out to continue “spreading” the Christmas spirit around the world.

Simple. One, two, three easy.

Yet, Alan was a bundle of nerves. Would Izzy recognize her Granpa Alan? Would she believe he was the actual Santa Claus? Or will this blow up and ruin her childhood for years to come? The entire time he had been dreading this, and now it was getting closer, Alan couldn’t stop fidgeting. Before Ellie could signal him, he went into the kitchen to have some of Owen’s eggnog. He didn’t register the burning with the frothy drink coursing down his throat. All he could concentrate on was whether or not it would settle the butterflies in his stomach.

“Alan?”

He whipped his head around to find his wife behind him. “I wanted to tell you it’s time. You, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alan forced a smile and hoped it reached his eyes. But there was no fooling, Ellie. She knew him too well.

“Alan, you’re going to be great,” she told him, lowering her voice. “Mark and Charlie have Izzy distracted. You’re in the clear.”

“Okay.” Alan took a couple steps forward, paused as he blinked rapidly. He couldn’t remember what Owen added to the eggnog. He had been vaguely paying attention, but he waited and whatever it was had passed. You can do this, Grant. Alan continued to move to the door that led into the garage to get ready for his grand debut.

Meanwhile, Ellie hadn’t tried the eggnog yet, and she helped herself to a generous pour.

xxXXxx

About ten minutes later, Ellie felt a slight buzzing behind her eyes, but was otherwise pleasantly warmed despite it being a cold drink. She had to set her cup down to trade it for her cell phone to take pictures. She waited with abated breath for Alan to knock on the door and to see that spark of realization that Santa had come to town on Izzy’s face.

Sure enough, the sharp tap-tap-tap had rendered the house silent. Everyone but the small child in question knew what was about to happen. The baby reacted by swinging his head to hear what that sound was.

“Who do you think it is, sweetie?” Charlie asked his daughter. Izzy, now five years old, let out an audible gasp as she quickly looked at everyone around her. It hadn’t occurred to her that there was one person missing from the group. How could she? When it was Santa Claus!

“Santa!” she exclaimed, immediately running to the door with her father at her heels and the others following behind with their camera apps poised and ready to go. Izzy couldn’t reach the doorknob much to her impatient frustration, but her father affectionately chuckled as he twisted it open to let in the man of the hour.

Standing on the porch, surrounded by the snow at his boot clad feet, was the legend in the flesh and in living color: with his brightly red pants and jacket, the soft white fur trim, and wide black belt and silver buckle resting on his curved belly, the white gloves with a bracelet of bells wrapped around one wrist and the other tightly clenching the bag of goodies over his shoulder, and the springy curls of his long white beard, the black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and his signature hat with the big, fluffy puff at the end. The hand holding the bells gave his middle a rub as he bellowed…

“Ho, ho, ho!”

Izzy couldn’t contain her shriek as she bounced up and down. “Santa! It’s Santa!”

The snapping of the phones’ cameras was going off simultaneously at the adorable sight. Finally, Charlie had to remind Izzy to step aside to let Santa in from the cold. She couldn’t stop gaping as St. Nick crossed the threshold, now waving his arm and shaking those sleighbells. There was another merry rendition of ho, ho, ho, and a Merry Christmas in his deep voice.

Maisie couldn’t help herself as her smile split across her face. Alan looked ridiculous but the way he kept his attention on his granddaughter and how she was the center of the fucking universe… Well, she really had no choice in keeping his secret now.

“Izzy, how about we go into the family room and Santa can join us?” Maisie asked.

“YES!” she shouted, scampering away, and pulling on the teenager’s hand. The others followed as well with Ellie trailing behind to walk with her husband. She kept eyeing him from top to bottom and praising herself for finding the perfect costume. The pillow was a nice added touch to give him that distinct plump frame. Of course, her distraction of him and Alan being careful in his gait so the pillow wouldn’t fall, hadn’t realized they had fallen into a sneaky trap.

“Oh Mom!” Laura chirped in a sing-song tone. “You should see where you and Santa are standing!”

Ellie looked up (as did Santa Alan) to discover that hastily fastened to the strand of garland was a sprig of mistletoe tied in a red bow. The older blonde arched her brow at her youngest who had the biggest shit-eating grin on her lips and her fiancé appearing somewhat sheepishly contrite, leaving no doubt that he had been recruited without a choice to do the dirty work. It didn’t help that Claire of all people let out a whistle as Owen snickered.

“It is a tradition, Ellie. Actually, it’s a rule,” the redhead said.

“Well, we can’t break the rule, can we?” Ellie turned to look at her husband, a devilish glimmer similar to her daughter in her eyes, as she murmured for his ears only: “That would be really naughty of me if I did.”

Alan’s eyes widened, having no time to react, when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss. It was only a couple seconds, but Owen did wolf howl as Claire, Maisie, Charlie, Christine, Anna, and Laura gave their own “oohs” and “ahhs.” Mark could only shake his head in amusement. Yet, it was Izzy who had the best response ever.

“Christeen, why is Granma kissing Santa?”

Christine, who had Sam on her hip, bent down to tell her, “See that plant? When two people are under it, they give each other a kiss. But don’t worry,” she quickly said as Izzy’s face scrunched up. “It’s a friendly kiss.”

“Granpa Alan?”

“Grandpa Alan knows he has my heart,” Ellie promised. “Um, Santa? What do you have in that bag of yours?” she asked to prevent what was bound to be the next question. Where is Granpa Alan?

That did the trick as Izzy alighted her gaze on that velvet bag that was bulging with toys and who knows what else! Crisis averted, “Santa” shuffled his way to the conspicuous chair that was meant for him and sat down. Bringing the bag in front of him and letting it rest against his leg, he announced:

“I have here presents for all the good girls and boys. Now, let me think… ah, yes. Izzy and Sammy! Izzy, have you been a good girl?”

“YES!” Izzy beamed. And for good measure, Santa looked over to Sam as his mother nodded on his behalf.

“Ho, ho! I checked my list twice and both of you have been good. How about you Maisie?”

The teen coughed but she muttered, “Yeah, of course.”

“Uh-huh. Charlie and Laura?”

“I’ve been good, Santa. No worries here,” Charlie said.

“Define good…” Laura wheedled, earning a gentle pat on her backend from Max.

“I know I tried to be a good girl,” Ellie supplied, looking at Santa, keeping a straight expression. Alan was never more appreciative of the damn fake beard covering his Adam’s apple as he gulped quietly to himself.

The innuendo was lost on the child as Charlie blushed, Laura covered her mouth to hide her giggles, Claire and Owen casually sipping their eggnog, with the significant others maintaining neutrality, and Maisie rolling her eyes. Anna was laughing and Mark sent his ex-wife a really, Ellie? look.

But Ellie ignored him. She didn’t know what was coming over her, but she knew she needed to stop eye-fucking Alan or else this was a Christmas that would scar poor Izzy. She reached for her eggnog, swallowing a mouthful.

Santa tore his gaze away from the alluring blonde and to look upon the giddy girl. “All right. Come here Izzy.” He patted his empty leg, and she was all too eager to hop up on his lap. Santa did give her a little boost so she wouldn’t fall over and made sure she was facing out for more pictures as he bent at the waist to open his satchel.

The first gift at the top had Isabella emblazoned on the gift tag. He pulled out the square-shaped box and handed it to the squirming child. The proud Daddy took a few more photos as did Grandpa Mark and Grandma. Then Izzy jumped off to curl up on the floor with her present.

“Now, don’t open it just yet,” her father reminded her. “Santa has more to give out.”

Indeed, he did. Next was baby Sammy. Christine placed him on Santa’s lap as Santa cradled him. She did pose with the picture next to them, holding Sam’s gift. Next was Maisie who did perch on Santa’s knee for the benefit of her parents as they fawned over her. After was Charlie and then Christine (each taking turns holding their son), and then it was Laura and Max’s turn. Claire and Owen weren’t forgotten as they took their respective turns to pose with Santa and their gifts in their hands. But there was still a few more gifts left in the bag as “Santa” sent an unspoken look to Ellie who had conveniently went into the kitchen for a refill.

Anna opted to stand next to Santa holding a small, wrapped box that was jewelry of some kind. Mark did the same thing as his gift left no doubt to its shape that it was a fishing pole. There was one more present left and it had Ellie’s name on it.

Ellie’s cheeks were flushed, her mouth pulled upwards, as she sauntered over to Santa. But being mindful of the children being around, she did sit demurely on his lap, but she did lean to the side a little, so her breast was pressing into him. Santa’s nostrils flared, his hand snaking around her waist, as his other hand flexed against the giftbox.

“Ellie,” he hissed warningly.

“Is that for me Santa?” she asked innocently, batting her lashes.

Breathing carefully, Santa did bring it to her open palms where she held it, but also very subtly had her fingertip rubbed in a tiny circular motion against his glove, above his pulse point. It was a fiery touch as light as it was for Santa, and torture too as he had to remain still for the pictures.

Then, the object of his agony bliss was moving away, a teasing glint in her eyes as she suggested the time to sing Christmas songs.

It was a reprieve he needed. “Before we all sing, Santa is feeling a little parched…” His throat was dry, and Ellie wasn’t helping since the moment after the mistletoe. He knew Laura was to blame for that little gag, but her mother was just as bad. Laura had simply beat her to the punch.

“How about this Santa?” Ellie held out a mug and inside was the familiar creamy light brown drink with an added sprinkled cinnamon on top.

For this part? Yeah, he needed that. “Thank you, Mrs. Sattler-Grant,” he said, lifting it in a mock toast before taking a huge swallow. The sting did feel good going on and he made sure to lick his lips to get rid of any remnants. A few of the hairs from his mustache and beard did stick to him, but Ellie was on standby with a napkin to help dab away those loose strands.

He couldn’t find his voice and the slight twitch below his belt wasn’t helping either. Yet, he had to keep it together. Clearing his throat, Santa tore his focus away from the tempting siren and gave the bells on his wrist another jingle.

“How about ‘Jingle Bells’?” he suggested. “All right, everyone?” With a one, and a two, and a three with each chiming ring, the entire group began singing the beloved song. When they finished, Santa asked Izzy what the next song should be.

“Rudolph!”

With another resounding chorus of ho, ho, ho, Santa cued the families once more as they launched into a very deafening rendition about the reindeer with Owen and Charlie punctuating each verse with additional lyrics. It didn’t take long for half of them to do the same.

“That was terrific! Well, I have to go now. There are still millions of little boys and girls who are waiting for good ol’ Santa Claus to drop off those presents. Take care Izzy! Buh-bye Sammy!”

Santa gave each child another wave as he picked up the now empty bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas!” he rang out again, and then began to walk back to the front door. It was the signal for the gifts to be unwrapped as the tearing and ripping crescendo of wrapping paper followed him. However, he hadn’t noticed there was someone coming up from behind.

“Don’t take it off.” The whispered demand sent a tingling chill down his spine and straight to his groin.

xxXXxx

Ellie had no idea what came over her or what was making her suddenly emboldened but seeing Alan in that Santa suit was doing all sorts of things to her. Things that would have made her younger self blush, and she and Alan had done some raunchy things back in the day. It had taken a lot of willpower not to grope the man. If it weren’t for her grandchildren, she would take the chances and if no one wanted to watch… they can clear the Hell out of there.

In fact, she was eager for them to leave the room right now so she could bring her husband back in so they could deck the halls with boughs and holly. Ellie sent a silent message to Alan to be patient as she tried to think what the polite way would be asking everyone to get the fuck to bed.

By the time she rejoined everyone, they all had their gifts unwrapped from Santa and were currently showing what they got and marveling over it. Izzy was proudly carrying around her new toy—a Barbie doll dressed like a paleontologist with a tiny triceratops as an accessory. It had been too cute not to buy her that. Sam got a new onesie with a dinosaur on it and a matching bib that read I’m a Hunk-a-Saurus. Maisie was gushing about the vinyl record she received; Claire was loving the new pair of heels; Owen had a new hunting knife; Charlie got the latest Stephen King novel he wanted; Christine was in awe over the first edition of Pride and Prejudice; Laura was tearing up over the homemade coupon book for the first-time Mommy (included was a taped gift card for the spa); and Max got the Blu-Ray collection of all The Omen movies, including the remake (he loved horror and it seemed like a good idea with a kid on the way).

Ellie’s gift was next to her eggnog, but she didn’t need to open it. She prepared all the gifts, and she threw in an empty box for herself because she and Alan had their own tradition of exchanging toys on Christmas Eve. No need in sending everyone, including her ex-husband and his new wife, into therapy.

Besides, she had a Christmas treat in the garage and he was most likely freezing his ass off.

“You know what everyone? Today was such a long day and the kids look tired,” Ellie pointed out. Sam was lazily blinking his eyes, fighting to keep them opened; and Izzy’s running was slowing down too. Charlie and his wife nodded in agreement.

“Let’s get these sleepyheads ready for bed so Santa can come back later,” Christine said with a wink to her stepdaughter. That grabbed Izzy’s attention when she remembered that Santa only came when everyone was asleep.

“Bedtime everybody!” Izzy declared, waving her finger around. “No grownup time!”

“She means staying up late,” Charlie clarified when Laura snorted. “Does your mind have to be in the gutter?”

Laura shrugged. “I can’t help being me. Besides, hormonal preggo lady here. You oughta know, Charlie boy.”

“And I believe that’s our cue,” Max piped up, stopping the siblings from bickering. “Good night, everyone.”

“Bedtime too Maisie!” Izzy told the older girl. “Santa won’t come if you not in bed.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Maisie stated, getting to her feet. “Mom, Dad?”

“Yeah, I think turning in is a good idea,” Owen agreed. “G’night.”

With that, Maisie and her parents went down the basement. The Degler children and families were already enroute upstairs and that left Ellie with Mark and Anna. Now, she was really regretting asking them to stay the night after all. But God bless Anna as she started yawning.

“C’mon, Mark. I’m beat. Tomorrow is going to be crazy,” she told him. “Night Ellie. Tell Alan we said good night too.”

“I will,” Ellie promised.

“He did a great job as Santa. Maybe next year I can give it a go?” Mark asked.

Ellie bobbed her head impatiently. “If you want, but you may want to talk to Alan first. I think he really enjoyed it in spite himself.”

“Are you all right, El?” her former husband continued. “You look—”

Anna grabbed her husband’s arm and began tugging on it. “Mark, hon, let’s go.”

“But what about cleaning up…?”

“It can keep. Right, Ellie?” Anna looked to the other woman with understanding in her eyes.

“Absolutely.” Ellie made a mental note that she was going to treat Anna to whatever she wanted for her birthday. Hell, she will take Mark out of the house for her so she can have some me-time.

With the final guests out of sight, Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. The anticipation was drumming in her blood once more as she rubbed her hands eagerly. Just the mere mental image of Alan in that Santa suit got her motor running and she could feel the pool of wetness gathering in her panties. She half-ran, half-walked back to the garage door and flung it open.

“We’re alone!” she exclaimed as Alan spun to face her. He removed the beard, pillow stomach, and the bells, but everything else he kept on. Ellie motioned for him to come inside. She didn’t need the fake beard, not with the real McCoy.

Alan lifted his brow, but he didn’t need to be told twice considering the garage was getting colder by the second.

“Everyone went to bed. We’re getting Izzy a fucking pony,” she told him.

“What?”

“Let’s give it a few more minutes. Just to be certain,” Ellie suggested. “Do you want any more eggnog?”

Recalling how it warmed him, Alan nodded. “Good idea.” She went back to get her glass and Alan was filling his up. He topped hers off with some more and the two raised their drinks in the air for a job well done. Alan couldn’t remember why he had been so nervous in the first place about being Santa. It was a lot more fun than he expected it to be. Izzy’s excitement and smile was going to stay with him for the whole new year.

While the two drank, they were both beginning to feel this peculiar effect. It was the same tingling sensation that started in their bellies and the warmth continued to spread throughout their bodies. The more they consumed, the more it intensified. And after a considerable amount of time passed where their houseguests should all have been in their beds with visions of sugar-plums dancing in their heads.

Ellie and Alan were staring acutely at one another, the desire becoming palpable. Then Alan stood, his feet a little unsteady, but he quickly regained his balance so he could stride into the family room and sit in the same chair that he had just an hour ago. He widened his legs a bit, planting his feet firmly… his glasses sliding down his nose.

Ellie’s breath quickened as she rose, staggering slightly, but there was nothing that could stop her or the thundering roar of her heated blood in her ears. She paused in the doorway, her right arm catching the frame to keep her steady, while her husband began to pat his left leg, the soft slap on the fabric having a hypnotic pull.

“Ellie Sattler,” he purred, his voice deepening to a gravely tone. “Come and sit on Santa’s lap like a good girl.”

Her core clenched, making her pussy weep even more, as her jelly-like legs found the strength to cross the room. But rather sitting on his lap like a good girl, she stuck her tongue against her bottom teeth as she lifted herself to straddle him instead. Throwing her arms around his neck, she wiggled against him, making herself comfortable while Alan’s breath hitched, and his pupils started to dilate. The fabric of Santa’s pants was loose, but Ellie felt the twitching and smirked.

“You know Santa is supposed to hand out candy canes afterwards.”

He growled. “He does for the good children. But Ellie… it seems to me you’re not being good.”

She shook out her hair, gently undulating her hips to encourage him to harden even more. “No,” Ellie pressed her mouth to his ear, feeling him tense around her. “I’ve been a naughty girl, Santa. I don’t like being told what to do. It drives my husband up the wall sometimes, but I guess I’m simply a bad girl.” Bringing her face back towards him, Ellie sucked her in her lower lip. “Does that mean I won’t get any Christmas presents?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! Alan’s hands trembled as he gripped her waist, trying to keep her still lest he embarrassed himself too soon. But an idea began formulating as he fought to keep his composure.

“It all depends. How badly do you want your Christmas presents?”

“I want them.”

“All right but you’re going to have to be good girl for me, understand?”

She nodded her eyes half-closed, her arms quivering.

He grinned. “Now, bend over Santa’s lap.”

Her jaw slackened, dropping a couple inches. She hadn’t been expecting that. “B-b-but…”

“Now, Ellie,” Alan continued. “You promised you would be a good girl for Santa. Good girls get rewarded. But first… bad girls need a spanking.”

Fucking DAMNIT. How Ellie was able to get back on her feet without falling over… but she managed as he squeezed his legs together so she could drape over them. Then he started clicking his tongue in chastisement as she twisted her face to look at him.

“You forgot something Ellie.”

Before she could ask him what he meant, she saw him zero in on her jeans. He could see it dawning on her as he slowly nodded once more. “Take those off.”

She had to swallow back a whimper as Ellie stood again. Her fingers were trembling as she undid her button and dragged the metal zipper down. She was able to wiggle out of her sneakers by pressing down on each heel and lightly kicking them away. Then she began shimmying her jeans down her pale legs until they were pooling at her feet. She lifted one leg, then the other, and they were also kicked away.

Alan hummed in appreciation, taking in his half-naked wife. Clad only in her shirt, panties, and socks… he was ready.

Taking a deep breath, Ellie resumed her position, making sure to arch her butt a little more.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pleased she took the initiative. “But you forgot you needed to listen.” With the full palm of his hand, he gave her a swift smack.

Ellie gasped, her nails digging into his thigh.

Alan then gently rubbed her behind with the pads of his fingers to ease any stings from the blow. He lowered his head to give her this final warning: “Don’t forget… not a creature should be stirring, not even a paleobotanist.”

She clamped her mouth shut, squeezing her lips tightly together. Alan continued to trail his fingertips across the silky panties, then proceeded to give her a series of short whacks on each buttock. With each strike, Ellie jerked in response, exhaling through her nose sharply. It didn’t help that her arousal was skyrocketing with each paddle, and then she momentarily forgot as a moan slipped between her lips.

Alan froze, his hand just hovering over the heated patch of skin and flimsy material. “What was that Ellie? Did you make a sound?”

Ellie covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head.

“I could have sworn I heard you make a noise. Somehow, I doubt that hand is going to do the trick. And tsk, tsk.” He dragged his fingers between her crack down to the apex of her thighs. He could feel her panties were drenched. “You’re still on the naughty list, but I will give you one more chance to make it to the good list. But you got to be silent, Ellie. Go over to the couch and make sure you take off those panties. Don’t leave them on the floor. We may need them if you can’t behave yourself.”

Ellie’s audible gulp and the slight keen had her throbbing as she did what she was told.

Alan could see the light rosiness of his hand on her ass as she walked to the couch. He swept his tongue across his lips as he pushed himself up to stand. He was already rock hard as he started his own shuffle towards her, deftly undoing the buckle and letting the belt strap hang loose at his sides. He panted hoarsely as Ellie bared herself to him while she leaned over the armrest. Her right hand was clutching her wet panties as he positioned behind her.

He pulled down his pants and his boxers, taking himself in hand. Wrapping his fingers around his shaft, Alan gave himself a few tugs to ensure he was ready. Then he hotly lifted her hips to angle her exactly where he wanted.

“Santa’s coming to town,” he said, and thrusted into her. There was no resistance, nothing holding him back. Ellie had been primed all right, and right now, she was biting into the cushion to hold back her screams as Alan began to piston in and out of her. But the force of his movements had her arching back, trying to match his pace, yet it also meant that she was raising her chin and it was getting difficult to stay quiet.

Alan grunted, feeling the pinch in his lower back, but right now… he didn’t fucking care. Ellie’s inner muscles were fluttering against him, and it only made him want to drive into her more. Harder and harder he plunged. But he needed to go deeper. With his left hand, Alan twined her long hair around his wrist and pulled. Not too hard to hurt her, but enough to signal her to rise up, which she quickly complied.

“Alan Alan Alan,” she groaned.

Now, he wanted her to scream. “Panties. In. Your. Mouth.” He ordered.

Ellie stuffed it into her mouth, moaning as she tasted herself.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Now, you can scream as loud as you want.” Rearing back, Alan buried himself in her.

And she screamed. She screamed as loud as she could, the panties muffling her. This went on until Ellie… knowing she was getting close to her peak, but still needed that final shove. She extended her arm, slapping the cushion, getting Alan’s attention that she needed more.

And he knew what she needed. With his hand still holding her head up, he took his other hand away from her hip to slip around her throat. He timed it as he thrusted into her, he would squeeze. He did it once more, applying just a tiny more pressure, and she was gone. The panties fell out of her mouth, staying wide opened as no sound save a wheeze came out.

Alan’s balls tightened, he gritted his teeth, as he gave one final push and convulsed against her. He released her hair, his hands drifting down her body as he found purchase at her waist again. His forehead pressing into the back of her head as he sagged behind her. Both of them were panting, catching their breaths.

Meanwhile:

Hearing the heavy thudding down below, Max sleepily asked his fiancée if he should check to make sure everything was okay. Laura insisted everything was fine.

“Oh, Santa’s just… coming down the chimney.”

Next door, Izzy was finding it hard to fall asleep knowing that tomorrow was Christmas Day. She frowned when she heard the unusual sounds downstairs. She climbed out of her bed and ran to her father’s side.

“Daddy? I thought I heard Granma.”

Charlie opened one eye, listened, and then told his daughter, “No dear. I think Mrs. Claus was telling Santa to hurry so he doesn’t get behind on his schedule.”

In the basement, Owen was giving his personal narration to Claire about the antics happening above.

“Sounded like Santa stuck the landing. That or the reindeer are making pretty weird noises as they landed on the roof.”

Claire snorted, slapping his chest. “You’re so bad!”

“Do you think I should applaud Alan tomorrow morning? I mean… I didn’t expect him to go this long.”

Maisie was blissfully passed out and didn’t have to submit herself to the mental torture imagery of her pseudo-grandparents going at it like horny rabbits.

Lastly, in the main guest bedroom, Anna was sleeping peacefully while Mark glared up at the ceiling.

“Bah, humbug,” he muttered.

The End