A Visit from St. Dick


‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, save for a dormouse;
Clad in only striped stockings with no one to greet,
slept the brunette rodent who was also a NEET.
 
She was nestled snugly inside of her bed,
naughty thoughts filling the dormouse’s head;
Of a man in the bathtub who was quite the singer,
made the mouse’s hand travel to slip in a finger .
 
You see Christmas was special for a different reason,
more than Saint Nick or a change of the season;
Since monster girls came it took a whole different meaning,
one which made all the more a holiday intriguing;
For there was one gift they loved most on a cold winter night,
the act of pure love and a womb painted white.
 
When the clock struck midnight did I rise up the stairs,
eager to go at it like a couple of march hares;
My heart thumped loudly as I approached the mound,
until my eyes discovered something quite round.
 
It was her bottom I saw hanging out in the air,
uncovered and wiggling without a worry to spare;
Yet before I could act on her buttocks’ temptation,
my body was stricken with a tingly sensation.
 
See dormice are special, so do take a seat,
as I explain how their bodies produce something sweet.
 
They wear a fragrance like ripe honeydew,
that’s quite addictive to all but a select few;
As if that wasn’t enough, I do offer this tip,
bask in the bathwater after one takes a dip.
 
A soak is potent enough to alter your moods,
to make a beast out of the prudest of prudes;
This ‘dormouse tea’ will work, I can attest,
but let’s return to the story before I digress.
 
I snuck behind her on the queen-sized bed,
clad in red boxers and a familiar cap on my head;
Yet the dormouse snoozed without a single thought,
displaying candy cane stockings (which were quite taut).
 
None could one blame me for what the heart seeks,
especially when that place was between her butt cheeks;
For ‘twas this place that my face nuzzled,
until she returned me a stare most puzzled.
 
I furrowed my brows in deep concentration,
to explain to her the strange situation;
‘I tripped here on my way to the bath’,
was a quote most likely to invoke her wrath;
Yet before I could muster an excuse to pull,
she laid her face down onto a pillow laden with drool.
 
Paying no mind she gave her bottom a wiggle,
grinding upon my nose with a cheeky giggle;
“What a silly place to rest your head,
wouldn’t it be warmer with me in bed?”
 
With her scent in my nostrils, my horses reared,
giving her nethers a deep kissing until something phallic appeared;
But ‘twas not a cane that emerged from my boxers,
but her favorite knob and pair of door knockers.
 
The mouse braced herself on quivering knees,
giving the love nub a few licks never ceased to please;
She spoke not a word as I commenced my work,
taking hold her petite hips and giving them a jerk;
She moaned with each thrust into her warm dormouse hole,
as I became absorbed into the holiday role.
 
Merry Christmas to all, in spirit of St. Nick,
reminding you to give your waifu the dick.
"Give her the present."
“Give her the present.”
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