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• And to round out the month, and give us some delicious debauchery for the holidays, is our last Jeeves prompt of the month. This time, Mrs. Claus decides to visit those who were nice but in a naughty way. Remember, please follow Jeeves on SoFurry, or FurAffinity, and maybe donate to his Patreon. I’m probably the only guy who considered this.

Naughty and Nice: Mrs. Claus’ Special List

It was midnight. It was the very beginning of Christmas Day, and though Chris was in bed, he wasn't asleep. Truth be told for the last few days he had found it rather hard to settle at the end of the day, and though the fox knew why that was the case, he really had no way to solve the problem. After all, he wanted to be a good son for his parents. He wanted to make them happy by coming back home for the holidays even if, truth be told, he would rather have stayed in his off-campus college apartment with his roommates. The last year and a bit of his college life, but in particular the start of this school year onward, had without a doubt been the most incredible time that Chris could ever have imagined. He loved the freedom and independence of living with his buddies. He loved his friends, the things they did together, and even though the apartment was old and worn from over a decade of being rented out to various groups of students, he truly loved that place itself too.

Now though, he was home. Not for his own sake. Not because he wanted to be. But because despite dropping so many hints that he wanted to avoid travelling half way across the country to return home for the holidays, his mom and dad had seemed so, so excited to see him and spend some time with him.

Staring up at the ceiling, still faintly glowing with some old, sticky glow-in-the-dark stars he'd put up there when he was like eleven, Chris sighed. He told himself what he had said inwardly over and over again. It was just another week and a bit. He could do this, even if it was going to be boring and not nearly as fulfilling as the alternative, for them. For his family. For the people who loved him, and who he really did love too, even if that love didn't go quite so far as to wanting to spend the entire holiday season in their presence.

He…

Before the fox's thoughts could drift any further, just as his eyes had closed not in slumber but simply to avoid the extra reminders of where he was offered by the ceiling, Chris felt the bed sag slightly. It was only a small, single bed, barely long enough to fit his now almost twenty year old body. Now though, the mattress was sagging on its lower left side as though someone had just sat down upon it. But, Chris hadn't heard the bedroom door open, so who could possibly have-

His eyes opened, and he very nearly yelped as in the gloom of the night, he saw a huge figure sitting at the foot of his bed, looking at him and beaming warmly.

“You're such a good boy.”

She whispered, her tone motherly and kind, but her eyes twinkling even in the darkness with a playfulness, a teasing, knowing glimmer that made Chris' face burn scarlet. He watched as the woman, a large, chubby polar bear, began to remove her coat. A red and white, unmistakably santa-suit like coat, beneath which... the fox wheezed and whimpered, slapping a paw over his muzzle as the woman removed her coat, to reveal bare shoulders covered in snowy white fur, bare arms, and then, as she shifted slightly to face him more directly, huge, massive and exposed white furred breasts, each one capped by a dark areola and a firm, plump black skinned nipple.

“Thinking about your parents, being so considerate and loving of their feelings, even though you know you'd rather be back home. Back with your roommates, and your friends, doing all the naughty, naughty things you've been doing together for the last year or so...”

The polar bear woman shuffled around to no longer sit with her legs dangling off the bed, but kneeling upon it completely, making the mattress groan a little more under her ample frame. In the process, Chris realised something that made his already flushed face burn crimson, and his reeling mind spin all the more uncontrollably towards madness. She wasn't wearing any pants. Underneath that coat, not only was her top half bare, but her legs too, and thus now all that the beautiful, bountiful older woman was wearing was a white bobbled red santa hat, and a knowing, seductive smile as she crawled to straddle Chris over his sheets, planting herself down upon his midsection, and proceeding to rock her obviously bare furred ass down against the suddenly swelling bulge that was hidden away under the bedding, while her own black, obscenely large, thick cock twitched and dribbled down its already glistening underside.

“All the things you've done. The orgies. The fetish parties. Watching your dorm-buddy from last year and his sister break down and go to town together for the first time, then fucking them one after the other while you let them make out and confess their undying love to each other? You could have done so much more of that this holiday season... but instead you were a good, sweet, thoughtful son, and you came home to your boring, vanilla parents who wouldn't even know about half the kinks their sweet boy has explored and enjoyed since he flew the nest.”

As she spoke, the older woman's face maintained that same mix of sweet matronly kindness and pure, indulgent, gleeful filth, but after just a little while spent grinding and rocking against Chris' hips as the fox's cock rose to life under the sheets, the polar bear reached out and began to pull the bedding off the male's body. She pulled it down and down, crawling a little further forward so she could push it away from beneath her, and then, as her hips settled right back down against the tented fabric of the sweat-pants that Chris had worn to bed, foregoing his more recent, college-born habit of sleeping nude for his parents' sake of course, she began to peel the fox's t-shirt up and over his head as he just continued to stare up at her in stunned, overwhelmed amazement.

“I know what you're thinking, sweet boy. This is a dream. You finally managed to fall asleep, and now, because you're so pent up and needy, you're dreaming about all sorts of sexy, kinky things. Only this time, rather than dreaming about that one lady you fucked and the things she admitted doing with her family's pet labrador back home when you started riding her doggystyle, or the feeling of a buddy's cock hammering your prostate while you shoot deep, deep into one of your professor's cunts just minutes after the end of a lecture? You've decided to dream a festive dream about Mrs Claus; some kinky, slutty MILF with a big cock and even bigger titties. Breasts big enough that if you sat down on that cock of hers, you could press your face so deep into them that even mommy and daddy wouldn't hear their precious boy's howls of ecstasy.”

Chris trembled and nodded. What else could he do after all? If he thought about this too hard, he was sure to wake up. But even if this was a dream, which it had to be, of course, he didn't want it to end. Not just because he was glad to finally be getting some sleep, but truth be told, because a big part of why he was finding it so hard to sleep was that he was so, so, so fucking horny. He needed cock. He needed pussy. He needed the most obscene and shamelessly lewd behaviour possible to be happening right before his eyes, as it did practically every day back at college and within his home, which even in just the last couple of months since they'd moved into that apartment had become somewhat notorious in the kink community of the college, and more generally of the city where the fox's college was based as a whole.

“Poor thing. You're so pent up and desperate for filth, you're staying up late at night just hoping that you might hear your sweet, vanilla parents bumping their headboard against the wall, huh? You wanna hear mommy gasping as daddy fucks her. Or maybe you want to hear your dear, kind dad letting his wife down, so that when she goes to the bathroom after he's finished, without making her cum, you can just so happen to wander out at the same time, cock stiff as you pretend to be half asleep. Would your momma be able to resist? Would she even think about it? Is she really so boring and vanilla that the thought wouldn't even cross her mind, or maybe, just maybe... she'd drag you into the bathroom like a depraved animal, push you to your knees, and get you to suck daddy's cum from mommy's pussy before you stuff your own load deep inside her instead, and make mom squirt while you do it.”

By the time Chris' mind was able to pull itself out of the mire of obscenely hot, twisted fantasies that those words spawned, things he truly had not considered before now, but which all of a sudden were all he could think about, his sweat-pants were around his ankles, and his t-shirt bunched up to expose his lean, fluffy belly. He huffed and shuddered and groaned audibly as he felt heavy balls resting on his midsection even as the heat, the moisture of Mrs Claus' pussy swallowed up his rampant seven inches, vastly smaller with even his knot being thinner than the polar bear's meaty, throbbing, easily fifteen inch black, pre-cum shining shaft. The older woman leaned forward, pinning her huge cock between Chris' flat stomach and her much more rounded, softer belly, and because of her sheer size relative to the fox, rather than ending up face to face, it was her breasts that smothered Chris' face a moment later. Still though, he could hear Mrs Claus whispering to him as she began to rock her hips, to grind and hump against his desperately hard, twitching cock as her white hot, slick inner walls squeezed and milked him from knotted base to already copiously dribbling tip.

“You're very lucky, you know that, right? My husband does most of the visits at this time of year... not that I suppose you'd have minded a big ol' bear daddy to stuff your stocking either. But me? I only visit a very small, select number of adults on a very special list. Naughty and nice. The ones with hearts of gold, but the most twisted, depraved libidos to go with those sweet and giving spirits. And, do you know why I do it, Chris? Why I spend the magic of Christmas night simultaneously visiting all the sweetest and horniest men, and women, and enbies across the entire planet?”

She jiggled and bucked her hips a little more firmly and rapidly atop the fox's cock, and her own huge, rigid shaft spurted pre-cum over Chris' crumpled, bunched up, t-shirt covered chest. The fox whined loudly, though of course the sound was muffled to almost silence by the sheer mass of the breasts surrounding his head, but Mrs Claus could feel him nodding. She giggled, and growled blissfully as the male's knot throbbed against her g-spot.

“Mmmh, that's right, baby. You get it. People like you, people like us, we always understand each other. There's no big mystery. No deep secret to it. Why do I use my husband's magic to appear in hundreds of thousands of bedrooms all over the entire world in the space of a single night, and experience the ecstasy, locking away the vivid, delicious memories of all the roughest, wildest, kinkiest fucks with the horniest and most pleasant people? Why else. Because I'm just like you. Because even after a year of orgies at the workshop, of nights spent strapped to the breeding mount in the reindeers' barn, of Santa's big, thick cock painting my tits with thick ropes while we both get our fat asses spanked until it hurts so fucking good we can't fucking handle it? It's still not enough. It's never enough. But while it's happening? While folks like me and you are getting our brains kinked out until we're so goddamn cum-drunk that we'll let people do fucking anything to us if it might mean just one more orgasm? Ohhhhh, it's just.... mmhhh, it's just the best fucking feeling in the whole world.”

Even as Mrs Claus huffed and moaned and spoke the truth from the very bottom of her heart, a truth that Chris had known since he'd first caught his dorm-mate jerking off just a few nights after they'd moved in together as freshmen and hadn't been able to resist voyeuristically joining in, the fox was cumming. With her words striking at the core of his heart, made clear in a way he had understood but never been able to articulate so clearly before, and her pussy milking his knot as her huge breasts continued to jiggle and press around his scarlet face, Chris simply couldn't hold back. He grunted. He whimpered. He began to paint the inside of Mrs Claus' pussy with rope after rope of cum, pent up simply because the idea of having nothing to do but jerk off to porn saved on his phone was so fucking dull to the kinky fox that he hadn't even bothered all day. And as he did so, his face pushed forward, he craned his neck and struggled to get himself into position to wrap his grunting, huffing, panting maw around one of the polar bear's large, swollen nipples. He suckled greedily as his hands rose up and began to fondle and grope the jiggling flesh of the woman's truly colossal tits, and as she growled in pleasure, the bear's huge cock spurting more and more abundant ribbons of pre-cum out between their bodies, two things happened at once.

First, Mrs Claus moaned thickly, dreamily into the kinky, panting, cumming fox's ears as he began to tug and nibble on her nipple with his lips and sharp yet delicately tender teeth.

“That's it, sweet boy. Suck on them. Suck on them like you would if your momma gave you the chance to breast feed one last time, and you knew you had this one chance to make her pussy so soaking wet with what you do to her titty that she wouldn't be able to resist begging you for more.”

And second, in the hallway outside her grown up son's bedroom door, Carmen pressed a desperate hand to her mouth as the other, tucked into the front of her dressing gown and stuffed down the front of her floral print pyjama pants, was suddenly soaked by one of the most intense, almighty orgasms that the forty-nine year old vixen had experienced in decades.

She didn't know what sort of pornography her son was presumably watching on the other side of that door. She hadn't even known that such obscene and fetishistic content existed, having always avoided such matters simply because of the rumours she'd heard at church group regarding how exploitative it was towards women.

But... that voice. That woman addressing her son, or rather, presumably speaking out of a video to whoever was watching? She didn't sound like she was being exploited. She didn't sound like she was being coerced or forced to do anything.

She sounded not just happy, but more at peace, more certain and content with her place in the world than anyone that Carmen had ever, ever met.

Anyone except for her son in the last year or so, since he'd first come back from college during the winter break in his freshman year the previous winter, somehow still the kind, sweet boy he'd always been, but now somehow so, so much more than that, too.

All year she had wondered what had changed. What had happened to her boy, and why she was the only one who seemed to notice the difference.

But now, as Carmen stood there with pussy juice streaming down the insides of her pyjama pants, squirting, shuddering, barely able to remain on her feet and gasping silently into her palm, she understood. She didn't know everything, of course. But, the older vixen understood what mattered, and she knew without a doubt, with surprising, simple, undramatic clarity, exactly what she had to do next in order to not just allow her son to keep on experiencing the same happiness she could hear from that other voice in his bedroom, but to ensure that he could find more and more of it, even when he came home for the holidays.

She had to let him fuck her.

Except... no, that wasn't right. That made it sound like some sort of sacrifice, some sort of chore on her part.

She had to beg him, plead with him to fuck her, not just for his own happiness and satisfaction's sake, but for her own now, too.

Shaking, gasping, legs almost giving way beneath her, Carmen climaxed around her fingers a second time as she heard a faint, muffled gurgle of ecstasy from her son through the bedroom door. Just before her legs did give out though, she felt a strong arm grab her around the waist and pull her close in a tender, passionate embrace from behind. She felt a thick, hot shaft of rigid flesh press against her hip through her dressing gown, and an even bigger pair of breasts push against her shoulders. And then, knowing full well it wasn't her husband but not even caring, Carmen turned her head to look up as a larger, stronger, black fleshed, white furred hand replaced hers clasping tightly around her gasping maw.

She saw the kindly, motherly warmth, and the fiery passion of Mrs Claus' face all at once, and as the polar bear whispered to her...

“Well well, there's a new name for my list. Not often I get to visit the same household twice at once...”

On the far side of the door, the whispering, the moaning, and the creaking of the bed continued.

“But that's okay. Nothing that a little Christmas magic can't handle.”

The polar bear murmured as she turned Carmen around on the spot within her ongoing embrace, and began to unfasten and remove the trembling, shuddering, still bliss-wracked vixen's dressing gown as with shaky hands, Carmen couldn't help but immediately reach out to fondle Mrs Claus' vast, pulsing cock.

“Now, momma fox... a question for you. Do you want me to take you into the bathroom and fuck your brains out there? Or, are we gonna go all the way, right away, and bust open that bedroom door right now, so you can spend all of Christmas night with your son, showing him what a mindless slut you've always longed to be deep, deep down, while he shows you the depths of his own depravity one kinky, obscene, incestuous holiday fuck at a time?”

The End