MOM Santas dangerous brother fucks Mrs Clause

It was Christmas Eve, and Mrs. Claus was feverishly wrapping presents in the warm, cozy workshop. The scent of pine and peppermint filled the air, mixed with the aroma of freshly baked cookies. Mrs. Claus hummed a festive tune, her ample bosom straining against her red velvet gown with each movement.

Suddenly, the workshop door burst open, revealing a disheveled, scruffy man in a tattered Santa suit. It was Jack, Santa’s long lost, degenerate brother. Mrs. Claus gasped, nearly dropping the package she was holding.

“Jack! What are you doing here? Santa will be back any moment!” she exclaimed, her green eyes wide with shock.

Jack leered at Mrs. Claus, his eyes roving over her voluptuous figure. “Relax, sister-in-law,” he purred, stepping closer. “I just wanted to pay a little visit to my favorite MILF.”

Mrs. Claus blushed furiously, her cheeks as red as her lipstick. “Jack, please! This isn’t appropriate! I’m a married woman!”

Jack chuckled darkly, slinking closer. “Oh, come on, Mrs. Claus. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Me, ravishing you right here on the workshop floor.”

Mrs. Claus trembled, torn between outrage and a shameful spark of arousal. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered, backing away until she bumped into a table.

Jack pounced, pinning her against the table and capturing her lips in a searing, hungry kiss. Mrs. Claus whimpered into his mouth, her traitorous body responding eagerly to his touch.

“Mmm, you taste just like Santa’s cookies,” Jack growled, nipping at her neck. “I bet you’re just as sweet.”

He hiked up her gown, exposing her plump, creamy thighs. Mrs. Claus let out a squeal of disbelief as Jack shoved his hand between her legs, groaning at the feel of her damp panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me already,” he murmured, rubbing her through the thin fabric. “You’ve been desiring this, haven’t you?”

Mrs. Claus could only moan in response, her hips instinctively rocking against his hand. Jack chuckled wickedly, yanking her panties aside and plunging two fingers deep into her slick folds.

“Look at you, Mrs. Claus,” he taunted, pumping his fingers roughly. “Practically gagging for it. I’ll bet Santa never makes you feel this good.”

“Oh, please,” Mrs. Claus whimpered, throwing her head back in ecstasy as Jack curled his fingers just right. “Please, I need you…”

“Beg for it,” Jack demanded, his breath hot against her ear. “Beg me to fuck your greedy cunt.”

“Please, Jack! Fuck me! Ruin my married pussy!” Mrs. Claus cried shamelessly, too far gone to care about propriety.

With a grunt of triumph, Jack yanked down his tattered trousers and freed his engorged cock. Mrs. Claus gasped at the sight, impressed despite herself. Jack lined himself up and drove forward, spearing her on his thick shaft with one hard thrust.

“Fuck!” they both groaned in unison as he started to piston in and out, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the workshop. Mrs. Claus wrapped her legs around Jack’s waist, urging him deeper as she clung to him for dear life.

“So fucking tight,” Jack panted, hammering into her relentlessly. “No wonder he keeps you locked away for himself. You’re a goddamn cock-sleeve.”

“Yes, yes, use me!” Mrs. Claus moaned wantonly, lost to the world except for the delicious friction of Jack’s cock splitting her open again and again. “I’m your fucktoy, Jack! Your filthy cock-sleeve!”

The force of Jack’s thrusts caused the presents stacked neatly on the table to tumble to the floor, but neither of them noticed. All that existed was the slam of Jack’s hips against Mrs. Claus’s ass and her breathy cries of pleasure.

Just as Mrs. Claus felt her climax building, Jack abruptly withdrew. “Turn around,” he ordered gruffly. “I want to fuck you from behind like the Christmas whore you are.”

Mrs. Claus, too far gone to disobey, quickly flipped over and braced her hands against the table, presenting herself to her brother-in-law. Jack wasted no time in grabbing her ass cheeks and slamming back into her eager cunt.

“Goddamn, these ass cheeks are spectacular,” Jack growled, giving each a rough squeeze. “When this is over, I’m going to stuff this ass with my cock too.”

“Please, do it!” Mrs. Claus begged shamelessly, bucking back against Jack’s merciless thrusts. “Fill all my holes, Jack! I need your cum!”

With a final brutal slam, Jack buried himself to the hilt in Mrs. Claus’s greedy pussy and let out a guttural groan as he spurted deep inside of her, painting her insides with his seed.

Mrs. Claus let out a high-pitched wail as her orgasm crashed over her, her pussy clenching and spasming around Jack’s pulsing cock. They stayed locked together in the afterglow, both gasping for air.

“That was…intense,” Mrs. Claus panted finally, straightening up and trying to smooth down her hair. “But we can’t ever do that again, Jack. It’s just too risky.”

Jack flashed her a wicked grin, tucking himself back into his trousers. “We’ll see. I have a feeling this won’t be our last Christmas together, Mrs. Claus.”

With a speculative wink, he sauntered out of the workshop, leaving a very shell-shocked Mrs. Claus to ponder just what she had gotten herself into…