The Chaste Eve of Xmas - Verse

Even though I shared this on my private blog, it needed to be here as well. With apologies to Major Henry Livingston, Jr. (or Clement Clarke Moore) and his poem A Visit from St Nicholas( (1823) It was the eve of Christmas, and quiet was the town, Not a chaste hub moved, not even her own. Steel stocking carefully wrapped around his manhood, Waiting for his beloved to arrive at last. His package rested snugly in its bed, While visions of orgasms danced within his head; Neither she with kerchief nor I with cap, No long winter’s nap would we take, no gap. Then from under the blanket came a sudden sound, My goods sprang up to see what was around. The blanket flew open in my tent like light, Tearing conscious apart with sexual might. The moon shone on the breast of my lust-filled wife, Giving mid-day luster to everything and life. When, what appeared before my wondering sight, Was a tiny hand and five fingers bright. On a young woman so lively and quick, I knew in an instant I had to lick. More rapid than vibrators her fingers came, Whispering, flexing them by their name. “Now Thumb! now Index! now Middle and Ring! Pinky! Palm! Wrist with his Thing! To the peak of arousal, let nothing fall! Dash away all, dash away all!” Like tumbleweeds before the Plains winds fly, Mounting to sky when they meet a high. So toward her release her fingers flew, With just enough pressure for no orgasm too. And then in a blink I felt with surprise, The prancing and pawing of each finger’s graze As she drew back her hand, turning around, Squealing in delight as her own O was ablaze. She wore not much from head to foot, Clothes all akimbo on the floor they were put, A bundle of toys flung from her sack, Arranged like a sex-shop sales rack. Her eyes twinkled! Her dimples merry! Cheeks rose, nose in cherry! My droll little mouth drawn up ‘twixt her legs, Not snow for beard but I’d suck the dregs. The stump of a vibe held tight in my teeth, Smoke encircled my head like a wreath, She had a smiling face and wonderful belly, Shaking when she came like an earthquake in Delhi. She came hard, sexy maid elf, I laughed despite myself; A wink of eye and twist of head, Soon showed me her orgasm dread; No word spoken but straight to work, Filled all holes with a jerk, Laying finger inside rose, Giving nod as up flew the pose; She sprang from bed, whistled at me, Then flew away leaving my missile free. But I heard her call out, “Not for you, no orgasm in sight,” “Happy Christmas to all, and good night!”

Enjoyed.:D