I'm Stella, 21, shy, slim, with long blonde hair. I'm studying to become a teacher in my third year at university.

My boyfriend Ethan and I rent a small house together, and this is our first Christmas Eve as a couple.

We invited my two best friends – Laura and Emily – along with their boyfriends.

To make the night more fun for the guys, I chose the theme “Naughty Snowflakes and Fairies.”

I wore a light blue short dress with thin straps, barely reaching mid-thigh.

Ethan looked at me in the kitchen and murmured, “You look… dangerously beautiful,” his gaze sliding down my legs.

My friends arrived, both alone – their boyfriends couldn't make it.

Laura wore a white short dress with snowflake patterns and a deep neckline. Emily chose a green fairy-like outfit – a short top that left her stomach bare and a flowy skirt.

Ethan greeted them with hugs, clearly flustered as his eyes lingered on their outfits. I felt a small sting of jealousy.

We settled in the living room. The tree sparkled; wine, gingerbread, and chocolates filled the table. We drank, laughed, and joked about Christmas. Laura shared stories from her last party, Emily added naughty comments, and I noticed them flirting with Ethan – little touches on his hand or shoulder, playful glances.

As the evening went on, they grew bolder. Laura slid next to Ethan on the couch and teased: “So, Ethan, are we getting a real Santa tonight, or a stripper?”

Emily grinned: “Maybe we can get a present for a lap dance too." Their eyes stayed on Ethan, and I saw his gaze drift over their legs and necklines.

I trusted my friends, but I still felt jealous. It was a shame their boyfriends didn't come, I caught myself thinking. And that new neighbor, Alex – a charming, dark-haired, sporty guy who had just moved next door – had politely declined with a sly smile when we invited him together with Ethan. I had secretly watched him from the window the other day, mowing the lawn shirtless. If he had come, Laura and Emily would definitely have fought for his attention. Now I had to make an effort so my friends wouldn't charm my boyfriend too much.

Eventually, I decided it was time to pull Ethan’s focus back to me – and maybe give him a tiny lesson.

I went to the kitchen, my heart racing, and slipped off my black silk panties. Then I called, “Ethan, can you help me for a second?”

He walked in, curious. “What’s going on, babe?”

“Hold me steady while I grab the dessert plates from the top cabinet.”

He smiled, stepped closer, and put his hands on my waist. I stepped onto the stool, then onto the counter – my dress slowly riding up, revealing everything underneath. I knew he could see it all – I took my time, taking out the plates two at a time.
When I handed them to him, I saw his look.

“Stella… you're not wearing any panties,” he whispered, stunned. “I wouldn't have expected that from you.”

His eyes sparkled, and I could tell he liked it. As I climbed down, I turned to him and kissed him passionately. My tongue in his mouth, my hand sliding down, rubbing him through his pants, feeling him pulse against my palm. He moaned, hands dropping to my bare ass, squeezing hard.

“Stella… you're driving me crazy,” he muttered.

“Take the plates and let's go,” I whispered in his ear.

He looked down, pointing at his bulging pants: “But… how am I supposed to go like this?”

Back in the living room, I sat on the couch, pressing my legs tightly together to stay covered. Knowing I was bare underneath—and that Ethan knew it—turned me on like crazy.

I caught his eyes flicking to my thighs and dress hem several times, hoping for a peek. I smiled secretly: my little victory, his attention was mine again.

Ethan had rented a Santa costume for later, hidden in the garage with the gifts.

Then his phone rang. He stepped into the kitchen to answer, returning quickly: “Sorry, girls, work emergency. I’ll be right back, promise!” He kissed my cheek and left.

My friends got even livelier. “Santa’s coming soon, I can feel it,” Laura teased.

“Yeah, Santa or stripper?” Emily laughed. We giggled and sipped more mulled wine.

Soon came a knock. My friends squealed: “He’s here! Santa!”

I opened the door. Santa stood there—red coat, long white beard, glasses, sack on his shoulder.

Deep, husky voice: “Ho-ho-ho! Any good children here?”

My friends clapped and pulled him to sit under the tree. Ethan looked really sexy in the costume – the red coat emphasized his broad shoulders, the beard, mustache, and glasses added mystery, practically hiding his face, and the voice was husky and low.

He started taking gifts from the sack, calling us one by one to claim our presents – small packages we had prepared earlier. My friends were still naughty – Laura sat on his lap to “read a poem”. Emily hugged him and whispered something in his ear. I felt jealousy again.

After the gifts were handed out, my friends asked: “What next? More surprises?”

A naughty idea formed in my head, and I decided to show my friends their place. I stood up and announced, “There’s a leaking pipe in the bathroom. Could Santa come help take a look? We don’t have any other men in the house.”
They groaned: “Why take him away? We’re just starting!”

But Santa rose, grinning: “Ho-ho-ho, can’t refuse such a pretty fairy!”

He followed me upstairs. I locked the bathroom door behind us. “It’s under the sink,” I said, bending over—my dress riding up, baring half my ass and everything else to his view.

“Oh-oh-oo,” he growled, huskier than before.

I glanced back: “Santa, I haven’t been as good as I claimed downstairs.”

He hesitated, then his hands gripped my hips, stroking my bare cheeks before landing a light slap.

“Then Santa has no choice,” he said in a very low voice.

I heard him shift the coat—and suddenly his hot, hard cock pressed against me. The costume and deep voice made him feel like a stranger, and that drove me wild. He slid in slowly, filling me, then started thrusting—gentle at first, then faster. I was shaking with arousal, my pussy swollen and dripping.

He gripped my hips harder, pounding deeper. My breasts spilled out, bouncing wildly as I braced on the sink. Then he paused—I moaned in frustration.

Desperate for more, I cracked the door slightly—my friends’ laughter drifted up clearly.

He resumed, harder, the wet slaps echoing off my cheeks. I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle my moans, but they were too loud. The girls downstairs went quiet—they were definitely listening.

I started to close the door, but he grabbed my hand, pinned it to my back, held my hip, and thrust again—slow, powerful, then building speed.

Mmm, it felt so good and exciting, but I realized I had made a mistake by opening the door.

I couldn’t control my moans anymore and couldn’t cover my mouth. My moans were too loud, but he went even faster and continued with wild intensity.

It was all so arousing – the feeling that it was a stranger and my friends could hear downstairs.

Apparently, it affected Ethan too, because usually he was much more restrained, but now he was pounding me with wild speed and force. I cried out loudly a few times as the wave of orgasm hit me.

Santa gave a few more powerful thrusts and then finished on my ass.

I quickly straightened up. “We… fixed the pipe,” I said shyly.

We went downstairs, my face flushed and hair messy. Before I could say anything, Emily said, “Looks like that pipe didn’t get fixed after all.”

And both of them looked at us with sparkling eyes. It was clear they had heard everything.

“Santa has golden hands… and the pipe is fixed,” I mumbled, “but now Santa really has to leave.”

My friends came to the hallway to see him off.

As Santa headed toward the door, it opened – and Ethan walked in.

My mouth fell open. “What… how… who was…?”

Ethan laughed. “Got held up at work — hoped I’d make it back for Santa.” This is our neighbor Alex. I didn’t tell you, but I convinced him to take on the Santa role instead.”

My friends stood with their mouths open and looked at me as they started to realize what had happened.

Ethan continued: “That’s why he couldn’t come over tonight. He’s a really cool guy – I invited him to join us at the mountain cabin next weekend, too.”

Santa looked deep into my eyes. “Merry Christmas, Ho Ho Ho,” he said, and left.