Sexy Supermodel Alysia Kent Gets A Sextoy from Santa

Alysia Kent sits in English class, staring past the droning professor. Boredom crawls under her skin. She needs rescue—any rescue—then Santa slides into the empty desk beside her and says her name. She doesn’t blink, just murmurs she wants a toy for Christmas, a very particular one. The room dissolves; they land in his workshop, cold air biting her bare thighs once the classroom clothes melt away. Her fingers go to work at once, gliding over taut nipples, parting slick folds for him to see. Santa drops to his knees like a starved man. His tongue finds the heat between her legs, thick and insistent, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning too loud. When she’s dripping, he rises, spins her, and sinks every inch inside her with one rough thrust. Each snap of his hips drives her perfect ass forward; the smack of skin echoes around the glittering shelves. Alysia drops to the floor, lips stretched around his shaft, drooling down his length. She pushes her breasts together next, the head slipping wet between soft flesh each stroke until he grunts and spills straight into her pulsing cunt. Thick, warm spurts coat her deepest walls while she shivers, still clenched around him like a gift he refuses to unwrap.