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It was also something my poor parents could not afford.This stymied my mom and dad. They had never really believed in Santa, but they came to accept that someone was being Santa to me each Christmas morning.As I got older, all my friends stopped believing in Santa, but not me. I kept my belief secret from my friends. They would just tease me and spoil my faith.When I was eleven, I went through puberty. My mother sat me down and spelled out the “Facts of Life”. I learned how babies were made. The only man I wanted to be my mate was Santa.While other girls were dating boys, I kept to myself, making toys. I would fantasize about the big man taking my virginity under the small Christmas tree my father scraped together to buy each year. I would come so hard, I had to bury my face in my pillow, so my parents would not hear.On Christmas Eve, I would drink coffee, to stay up and see Santa. But it didn’t help. I still fell asleep before he arrived. I realized that Santa was not ready to see. M. He sounded happy and asked again if he could bring a friend. I told him, yes, but he had to wait until we were through, before he came in. He said he's acting as a lookout, in case someone came. The next day, I got there at 9 a.m. and set up with a pillow to sit on. Right at 10 a.m., I heard the door open and the stall door next to me being locked. Through the hole came a twenty dollar bill. I took it and heard him pulling down his pants. Then his large fat cock was put through the hole. Stroking it, I put it to my lips and felt him respond. Starting slowly, I sucked as much of his cock in as I could and got into a building rhythm. He took longer to climax this time but came as much as he had the first time. As he drained into my mouth, I heard him moan and say “thank you”. Again after he put his pants back up, he left without another word. A minute later I heard the door open again and another man came in. He paid his twenty dollars and pulled down his pants. This time it was a.
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