It seemed to please Santa immensely as he ogled her up and down, for at least a whole minute, before speaking again.“Don't you know that only naught... little girls spy on Santa?” he said, one hand still inside his pants, massaging his ever-growing mound and the other wiping the drool from his jaw with her panties, “Naughty little girls don't get any presents from Santa!” “Oh, please, Santa!” pleaded Jilnar, “I've been extra good all year. Really I have! When I heard you moaning I thought you. “I thought you meant ‘explore the city’,” she said. She was right. This wasn’t a night for that, not with a morning awaiting them. He took her hand and set out in the pattern they had settled on.“This place smells almost as good as your cooking,” he said when they passed an Italian restaurant. “Want to eat here some night after my check comes?” He wanted to bite his tongue afterwards. She didn’t mention that; why did he always have to put it in?“Sounds great. Smells great, I mean.”He tickled. More

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