Chapter 1: Introduction
The crisp December air nipped at Jeremiah's cheeks as he stepped out of his black SUV in the parking lot of the town center. The v-neck sweater under his puffy red jacket did a poor job of masking the muscular chin-scratcher he cultivated as he hefted a plastic tub of padding from the backseat. As he ambled toward the town square, the icy wind wrapped itself around him, kicking up snowflakes.
The trees were bare, yet the atmosphere felt alive in anticipation of the festive season. The dreamy jingle of carols streamed out of speakers disguised as streetlights, while seasoned pine and gingerbread scents mingled in the air of the marketplace.
Jeremiah approached his station for the next few weeks, the Santa Workshop. Managing a wink at a few wide-eyed kids, he felt the comforting looseness of the Santa suit as he slid the padding inside. The oversized black boots made him unsteady for a moment.
Once in the Santa chair, however, he found his groove. His mocha skin contrasted nicely with the plushy red fur lining the chair. The little ones--and some not-so-little ones--wrapped around his arms, whispering their unbelievable presents to him.
The line dwindled by midday, the cold doing its part to send families scurrying. With a flash of black hair and pearly whites, Emily Thompson approached with her two cherubic children, Macy and Max.
Jeremiah’s trained eye caught an instant sparkle in her eyes as she scanned his form before coaxing her excited offspring into position.
“Now Macy, remember we take turns, then Max gets his turn. Mommy needs to get a picture too.” Her hazel eyes met Jeremiah’s once more, before the line cut her gaze. Forcing a jolly laugh, he asked, “And what would you like for Christmas, little miss?”
Macy recited her wish list, while Max anxiously tapped his foot beside them.
"How about you, young man?" Jeremiah encouraged, looking him directly in the eye.
“I want a drone!” Max piped up, his loose hair bouncing. The twinkle in Emily’s eyes intensified as she watched the interaction intently, leaning forward, her glossy red lips slightly parted.
Handing the children small treats from his drawer of goodies, Jeremiah locked eyes with their mother, leaving the undeniable impression of attraction. "Well, we will see what I can do, little ones.
Now your lovely mother would like her turn, as he gentle scooted the kids off his lap. The little ones squirmed with glee as Emily eased herself into his embrace, her youthful, flawless face just stunning.
Jeremiah felt his breath hitch as her ample bosom brushed his chest, while her hips pressed against his slightly. Emily bit her lower lip, her pleading gaze meeting his.
"I want a very special present for Christmas," she murmured sultrily, her cheeks now painted in a rosy hue.
The tingle of mischief making its way through Jeremiah's nerve endings sudden and overwhelming. As he glanced around the workshop, he saw only a few curious stares from families some distance away, oblivious to the scene unfolding before them.
Emily leaned even closer, "Can you give me what I really want for Christmas, Santa?" she purred in his ear, her hand grazing his abs, fingers walking up the buttoned-up suit.
Seizing the opportunity, Jeremiah whispered back, "Well, I don't usually grant such special wishes, but I just might make an exception," he grinned suggestively.
The persistent prying eyes of onlookers camouflaged beneath pretenses of wrapping up their shopping or squealing children asking for hot cocoa.
Emily and Jeremiah however, were enveloped in a bubble, a forbidden tryst in plain sight.
“Let’s get you in the spirit, Mrs. Thompson,” Jeremiah murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. His hands caressed her collarbone, inching upwards, while his thumb brushed the side of her neck. She gasped, the thrill of the situation making her heart race.
Jeremiah swiftly maneuvered them behind the curtain of the Santa set.
The tinkling bells adorning it seemed to mock their salacious intention. Yet, their shared lust left any warning or concern in their wake.
Emily’s eager hands set upon the hem of his jacket, slipping it off his broad shoulders. Their eager lips collided in an insatiable kiss, tongues brazenly exploring one another.
'Oh, Santa,' Emily panted, sliding the straps of her red dress off her shoulders.
Jeremiah eagerly complied, tugging it down to her waist, exposing her delicious, perky breasts in a flimsy lacy bra. He kissed a warm hot path from her collarbone, dipping his tongue into the valley between her enticing globes, goosebumps rising in their wake.
"Fuck, Santa," Emily whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders. He descended, his teeth grazing a rosy nipple. And then, he tossed her bra aside, freeing her heaving bosom to the Christmas air.
They pressed themselves together as if to counter the chill, his starched suit trousering a stark contrast against her smooth, bare, and shivering skin.
His obscenely large bulge was impossible to miss; she took further delight in realizing that he was evidently aroused.
Jeremiah’s free hand ventured to Emily’s decadent posterior, gripping possessively. She arched her spine in blatant pleasure, uttering impetuous moans.
"Go ahead your gift is right in there,” he murmured, a mischievous chuckle pierced the mushrooming silence. His movements as he cupped her ass were methodical, assured hands that did what they knew, what they wanted.
This was a dance crafted over the years, practiced with several women, but so what? It was pure magic, a dance propelled by desire that drew her in, made her feral, mindless.
Emily, quickly and with a low grunt, slid down the fabric of Jeremiah's pants. His ebony skin, glistening slightly from exertion, rippled under harsh fluorescent lighting. His eyes burned with hunger, waiting, expectant as she ran a warm hand over the rock-hardness of his girth.
Kneeling astutely before him, she licked her luscious lips before taking him in. Inch after agonizingly tantalizing inch disappeared between her lips, heels digging into the cold wooden floor. Jeremiah let out a low growl, the sensation of being devoured exquisite in its power. In moments, the world reduced itself to her skillful mouth and the tingling trail her tongue left behind.
Emily moaned, her filthy mouth and talented tongue now teasing and possessing each inch of his dick.
She dug her nails into the bulging muscles of his ass, pulling him further, harder. She steadied herself using his thighs, while bobbing her head up and down with an intensity that struck him with primal lust. Her mouth stretched obscenely wide around his girth, her cheeks hollow as she sucked, swirling her tongue around the swelling head.
Spittle and pre-cum coated her chin, while her eyes threatened to pop from their sockets. Her gag reflex eventually faltered, setting the rhythm of sloppy, wet sucks taking over.
Her ardor was evident in how her saliva draped over him, engulfing his hardness, slipping down the throbbing veins. A low whimper vibrated through his shaft, driving him wild.
"Fuuuuuck, White bitches love chocolate" he choked out. He knew if he let it continue, he would succumb to the mind-numbing pleasure of her devilish mouth. As he gently pulled away, a strand of saliva connecting their intimate connection before her lips smacked obscenely from the disconnection.
Delirious and needy, Emily stood, throwing herself on him; groping and pulling at the folds of his suit to bring him near.
Jeremiah's hunger for her body was apparent; he lifted her by the shaking thighs, positioning her onto the cheap plywood table against the makeshift workshop wall. The suffocating tension between them turned the air around them dense with desire and determination.
Without ceremony or pomp, Emily's weak protests dissipated into soft pants as he spread her legs wide, exposing her drenched womanhood.
Moisture glistened on her swollen pink folds; she adjusted herself hungrily on the table to accommodate his towering form. With the tip of his shaft pressed against her wetness, Jeremiah paused, their heated stares locked, while the anticipation and sheer need entwined them.
"Ready for your present, White Bitch?" he grunted, hoisting himself upwards with ease, fingers gripping her slim waist tightly. He plunged himself into her, burning pleasure singeing his length and coursing through every trembling fiber of their heated connection.
Her head fell back, gasping as he stretched her wide open, filling her entirely with the intrusion.
Jeremiah kept his eyes glued to Emily, entranced by her ability to unhinge the very core of his being with her eagerness for him. Her body slid back and forth along the fictitious Santa workshop table, offering no resistance to the dominant probing of his twelve-inch length.
"Fuckin' yes, Black Santa," Emily cried, nails raking down his muscular arm. Her bucking motions only heightened their ecstatic state.
Emily’s face boasted a riot of emotions, a twisted expression of pure, unadulterated carnal pleasure, like every sinful thought internalized over the years had drawn an anchor to this moment, to this hidden, forbidden connection, to this explosive satisfaction.
A sheen of sweat clung to their intertwined forms as they moved together, threatening to splinter under the force of this illicit intimacy.
Jeremiah's tempo intensified, deliberate, even thrusts massaging her insides in sensual rhythm and ripple.
The squeak of the table against the floor echoed through the workshop, accompanied by the erotic rhythm of their bodies coming together.
Emily’s body betrayed her as her whimpers turned into gasps of enjoyment, hips grinding against his ebony shaft. She bit her lip, shuddering, her core feverishly tightening around him. Hair stuck to her forehead as perspiration beaded along her skin, while an all-consuming heat cocooned them both—the only audience to their explosion of pleasure.
"Come for me, you filthy whore," he snarled huskily, hips gyrating wildly, grinding against hers.
Her walls gripped him greedily, hungry for release. The bench beneath her creaked in protest, desperately striving to hold both their heaving bodies. He wished he could push her over the edge right then and there, his slow, calculated pace intended to keep them savouring each exquisite moment.
Emily's sharp cries bounced aggressively off the curtains shielding them from the crowds of people standing on the other side
, oblivious to their clandestine union. However, Jeremiah knew there was only so much they could endure.
His fingers found her bud, rubbing circles over the swollen nub as he continued his relentless hip movements. Emily trembled, a soft, keening noise escaping from her lips—her orgasm seemed alarmingly close.
Without warning, she surrendered herself to the ultimate pleasure.
Emily's body bucked wildly in simultaneous bliss and relief as a groan tore free from the back of her throat. A symphony of moans, whimpers, and gasps echoed through the workshop amid her rough pants. Her satin sheath clenched convulsively around him like a vice, taunting his building response in an unrelenting grip.
Jeremiah paused, relishing in the rapture of their connection, absorbing her tremors as her inner muscles clenched and unclenched under his grasp.
She hyperventilated, spasming around him, her head thrown back, her body paralyzed under the merciless wave of orgasmic delight. Her spectacular release went on for an hyperbolic stretch of time.
Jeremiah tried to keep his cock still, but the sinful sight before him and her vice-like grip around him was almost too much to handle. Sweat droplets trickled down his golden-brown forehead, dampening his neatly trimmed goatee. Emily's uninhibited moans sent quivers of pleasure up his iron-hard erection.
Pushing aside the bleached curtain, Jeremiah looked around. The coast was clear. Guiding Emily down from the table, he flipped her over.
She obediently bent down, her luscious ass high in the air, ready for him. Planting deliberate kisses on her neck, working his way to her shoulders, Jeremiah caressed her thighs, savouring the softness of her skin.
With a sly grin and husky voice, he commanded, "You'll need to be quiet, or do you want the whole town to know we're fucking?"
Biting her swollen bottom lip, Emily nodded, arching her perfect back, eager to receive Sin City's finest Santa.
Her submissive, silent plea aroused Jeremiah, who slapped her curvy ass playfully before positioning himself behind her.
Securing Emily's waist once more, Jeremiah's black, velvety shaft slid against her slippery lips, teasing them both. Her wet and wanting slit came alive under his throbbing tip's gentle pressure. His taunting grip of her ass-cheeks brought them closer still, ominously close to final conjunction.
Jeremiah's fleshy mace hovered menacingly at the mouth of Emily's love chamber, the sheer anticipation of his mammoth invasion pulling a strained whimper from her throat.
"Jesus fuck me, Santa!" she blurted out suddenly, begging for relief from the burning desire that coursed through her spine and coiled at the edge of her pleasure, just out of reach. Her dirty invitation resonated within the confines of the wooden cabin and the air that hung between them brimmed with caked lust.
He gladly obliged, thrusting deep into her folds, and Emily responded with a wordless cry, her head dropping into the crook of her arm.
Jeremiah's strong hands molded her ass possessively as he plunged forward in a primal rhythm, filling her cheeks with hot promises of raw pulses and climactic release. Emily's mind blanketed with erotic fantasies, her whole being consumed by the way he controlled and dominated her.
Owned her. The sheer size of him triggered a stinging pleasure that made her heart gallop like a racehorse. It fucked with her senses, consuming her consciousness, and begged her for more.
As he slid in and out of her core, she could feel the reverberations of every sensitive nerve in her body. She pushed back against him
, her hips aching to meet his relentless force. Tasting her own sweetness on his tongue sent waves of blissful eroticism bubbling through her tensing muscles. He pistoned himself deep inside of her, strokes long and unyielding.
"I'm going to fucking cum inside you, you dirty slut" Jeremiah growled, grip on her waist tightening.
"Mmm, cum for me Santa, fill this naughty pussy up." Emily panted, eyes squeezed shut, her mind drunk on desire's heady promises.
She felt every glorious inch of him as he buried himself in her depths, hitting spots untouched, triggering new sizes of pleasure. With every plunge, he nudged against her g-spot, drawing screams of ecstasy from her lungs.
Her hips danced in rhythm with Jeremiah's thrusts, welcoming him deeper within, wanting to absorb every ounce of his gargantuan size. The table creaked beneath them, matching the symphony of wet slaps punctuating their lustful dance.
Emily’s legs trembled as orgasmic tremors wracked her elegant frame. Reaching for a fleeting purchase in a sea of unwavering pleasure, she blindly felt her way upwards, her fingertips groping for the edge of the table.
“More, you filthy black Santa,” Emily demanded, awash in a tidal wave of rapacious desire.
The edge of the table dug into her thighs with bruising intensity but neither child nor husband were within sight—no barriers would stand in her way.
Bracing one arm on the table, she used the other to stroke her clit, relishing in the tantalizing duet of Jeremiah’s voracious thrusting as she met them with fierce determination. Heat coiled and uncoiled in her toes before blistering through her flushed cheeks as she imagined her cunt swallowed up by his colossal length.
Her husband had never been able to fulfill her deepest desires, and now, she was ravenous for a release she knew only Jeremiah could deliver. He was the only Black man in this town, only he could give her the BBC
experience every white woman craved.
His hips slammed into hers, over and again, a captivating tempo that brought Emily on the cusp of yet another scream-worthy orgasm. Jeremiah’s rhythmic pounding became too much for Emily, begging for mercy through broken whimpers.
Her body convulsed, and she succumbed another powerful climax. Hot jolts of ecstasy wrecked her from the inside out, and she screamed through the breaking storm. Her inner channel contracted violently, pulsing wildly around his penetrating rod.
She squeezed him so tightly he thought his damned shaft would explode in her grasping warmth, grinding her clitoris into Jeremiah’s unyielding fist.
“Ahhhh God, I’m cumming! Oh, I’m cumminggggg. Don’t stop! Faster. Deeper!” she cried, her body writhing uncontrollably on the splintered table. "I want that Black cum Santa, please! Please! Cum for me Santa!"
Beads of sweat slithered maddeningly down Jeremiah’s back and torso as he drove himself to the root; his Black balls slapped obscenely up against the wet flesh encasing him.
His excitement reached a fever pitch, the sound eliciting a low, feral prompt, urging him to cave. In and out, he surged with a wolfish smile, drunk on power.
On her knees, Emily abandoned herself to his merciless assault, those brown eyes fluttering and rolling, losing herself in tremors wrought by mounting pleasure-glutted shudders. Her back arched, her body shuddering and convulsing in delight. Her whimpers fashioned a strangled symphony of acute gratification, rising and falling with each forceful impact.