SantaCon Pussy (Maria Ryabushkina)

[Gianni Shamari]

December 13, 2014, was bathed in magic that only New York City could conjure. For Maré, it was a day of dual significance: the last conservative date he would ever witness and the inaugural SantaCon he would share with his beloved Maria. As he stood in his Sutton Place penthouse, the air around him buzzed with the excitement of the day ahead.

Draped in a vibrant, custom-made red hoodie emblazoned with a whimsical Santa graphic, holiday-red jeans, and crisp white-and-red Air Jordan XIII sneakers, Maré had fully embodied his flamboyant alter ego, ‘Swag Santa.’ He glanced at his reflection in the ornate mirror, his heart racing as he struck a pose.

“New York, are you ready? Swag Santa’s going to rock you!” he shouted, his voice reverberating with glee, anticipation thrumming in his veins.

Just then, the concierge’s voice interrupted his revelry. “You have a visitor, Mr. Maré,” the man called from downstairs.

“Send her up!” Maré urged, already knowing who it was. He could hardly contain the thrill pulsing through him; it was Maria Ryabushkina, the stunning model who made every night feel like an adventure.

Moments later, the door swung open, and in walked Maria, exuding a radiant energy that illuminated the entire penthouse. She looked irresistible, dressed in a sultry velvet Santa costume that hugged her curves perfectly. A playful grin danced on her lips as she locked eyes with Maré.

“How do I look?” she asked, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, the sweet scent of vanilla and holiday spice enveloping him.

“You look stunning, baby girl!” Maré replied, his smile wide and genuine. “How did you get here?”

“I took the subway!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling excitedly. “It was packed with so many Santas! At one point, a Santa approached me for my number, but I just flashed him a smile and said I was already with a great guy! I can’t wait for SantaCon!”

Maré chuckled, the sound rich and warm, “That’s right; you’re with me, the king of New York! How’s the weather out there?”

“It’s gorgeous!” Maria responded, her voice energizing the atmosphere. “The sun is shining, and there’s a hint of crisp winter air that makes everything feel alive.”

“Perfect for our adventure!” Maré declared, the thrill of the day’s festivities filling his heart with joy. “Today is the ‘Million March’ and 60,000 people are expected to turn out. We are not going to any bars near Washington Square Park. I like the idea of SantaCon meeting up at Times Square. Are you ready to go, my sexy Santa helper?”

“Let’s go!” She responded.

As they took the elevator downstairs and headed for the door, the city outside pulsed with life, ready to embrace its celebratory spirit.

Times Square buzzed with excitement as an army of Santas flooded the streets, their iconic red suits creating a vivid drapery against the city’s lights. The air was filled with laughter, festive music, and the unmistakable scent of roasted chestnuts wafting from nearby vendors—an intoxicating blend that felt like pure joy. It resembled the thrilling energy of the ball drop on New Year’s Eve, with everyone in the atmosphere of celebration.

“The ambiance, baby girl, is intoxicating, isn’t it?” Maré shouted over the din, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“Yes!” Maria replied, her laugh infectious as she snapped photos on her smartphone, capturing every moment.

The revelers, dressed as Santas, elves, and even reindeer, photobombed their selfies, but the joy surrounding them was too overwhelming to let any of it bother them.

Maré pulled Maria toward a vibrant bar on the West Side with a playful nudge. The air was thick with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. A college crowd danced and swayed, the room alive with energy. They ordered bright cocktails, the colors reminiscent of holiday cheer, and struck up conversations with strangers, sharing stories and laughter that echoed through the packed space.

“I could stay here forever!” Maré exclaimed, his voice bursting with enthusiasm. “The laughter, the selfies, the music—it’s everything I wanted! It’s a day to remember!”

Maria leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Maré’s cheek, a tease that sent a ripple of warmth through him.

“I just want everyone to know that I’m dating the king of New York!” she said with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling as curious Santas and elves cast glances, almost as if they were seeing something otherworldly.

“I’m all yours, queen,” Maré replied, flashing a sly smile. “But let’s be real—none of these Santas can hold a candle to you!”

Maria surveyed the lively bar, her chin resting on her hand, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Which Santa here is as pretty as me?”

“None! You’re the hottest, bae!” Maré declared, his voice filled with playful certainty.

His heart raced as cheers erupted around them, the unforgettable magic of the day wrapping them in its warmth. At that moment, the tall Hispanic DJ, adorned in the bold Big Pun’s Bronx Legends Never Die T-shirt, dropped the infectious beats of Jennifer Lopez’s party jam “Stressin’,” sending a surge of energy through the packed bar. The pulsating bass thumped in Maré’s chest as the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter, their excitement igniting the room like a spark.

With her shimmering hair catching the strobe lights, Maria seized Maré’s hand and tugged him toward the dance floor. They glided through the throng of bodies, with laughter bubbling around them like a lively melody. Once on the dance floor, they surrendered to the rhythm, bumping and grinding to the intoxicating sound.

Maré’s hands instinctively began to explore Maria’s curvaceous figure, her skin warm and soft beneath his fingers. The scent of her perfume, a sweet blend of vanilla and citrus, enveloped Maré, heightening their electric connection. The atmosphere was thick with exhilaration, and every movement pulsed with a life of its own. Maré knew his playful hands would hit the high spots, arousing Maria in two shakes.

“Come on, baby, let us get out of here,” Maria spoke in a tremulous voice, an unmistakable hint of her arousal.

As the pulsating beats of the music thumped behind them, Maré and Maria slipped away from the vibrant chaos of the dance floor, seeking refuge in the shadowy corners of the bar. When Maré nudged the bathroom door open, a cocoon of dim light and muffled sounds enveloped them. He swiftly closed the door, shutting out the energy of the night.

The bathroom was surprisingly immaculate, a glistening oasis amid the revelry. Beneath their feet, the cool tiles were slightly damp, contrasting with the heat radiating from their bodies. The crisp scent of Mr. Clean lingered in the air, sharp and invigorating, mingling with the faintest hint of cologne left behind by the last person.

As they found a small, secluded corner, their lips met with a sensual urgency, the warmth of their breaths mingling as they kissed passionately. The world outside faded away, leaving only the delicious taste of anticipation and the adrenaline of youthful desire. Their wet tongues flapped and twirled like a couple of snakes mating.

“I want to send you to ecstasy,” Maré murmured, breaking the kiss.

“You can do whatever you want with me,” Maria quavered, her voice trilled out of passion.

“I want a taste,” Maré told her.

He dropped to his knees. Maré’s hands were already inside her red panties rubbing her wet pussy. He yanked the skimpy piece of fabric down her shapely legs. Maria kicked it aside and moved her toned legs apart, giving Maré easy access. He began nibbling and fingering her pussy; the musky odor wafted out of her quivering flower, making him untamed in lust.

“Oh, God! Yes! She moaned. “Eat this coochie!” Maria cried.

Maré looked up at Maria as he continued eating her furburger. Maria opened her lips in an O, clutching Maré at the head and dripping all over his face. Watching her go delirious in pleasure was a remarkable sight as Maré kept stroking her pussy with one hand and clawing at her tits with the other. Maria grabbed Maré’s hand tight, shuddering and cumming into his mouth.

Maré stood up, wiping his mouth. Pulling the pants down his legs, Mare gave her a wink. In return, Maria giggled. As soon as Maré exposed his erect dick, Maria’s mouth went all over it. First, she spat on it to get it wet. Then she stroked it and deep-throated Maré like a pro. He let out a loud moan. The sensation was high on the spot. Maré put his hand on her head as he began fucking her mouth. The sounds of sucking and smacking of lips were erotically audible. They could also hear Trey Songz’s “Touchin, Lovin’” blared from the dance floor.

“Damn, girl, fuck!” Maré moaned.

Maria worked her magic as she squeezed Maré’s buttocks. She knew he was nearing an orgasm. She sucked Maré until he ejaculated. Spurt after spurt of hot golden cum shot down Maria’s throat. She swallowed much of it and flashed Maré her perfect smile.

“Tasty,” Maria told him.

Maré was still hard as I lifted Maria and pressed her against the wall. Penetrating her cunt, Maré began thrusting at a fast pace. Maria’s eyes rolled in the back of her head. She wanted to scream her excitement, but no words spewed out of her mouth. Still holding her, Maré sat down on the toilet seat and had her riding him.

“Ride this dick, baby!” Maré encouraged her.

Maria developed a perfect rhythm on top. She looked like a sexy slut with Maré’s cum still splattered on her pretty face. She shrieked, moaned, and groaned, bouncing and taking Maré’s shaft quickly.

“I’m about to do it!” Maria chorused

“Cum all over this dick!” Maré demanded.

Maria screamed as she coated Maré’s dick with her pussy juice. It triggered him to ejaculate. Maré filled Maria’s pussy with his hot semen. He thought Maria had enough, but she wanted more. They did all sexual positions in the bathroom without having any visitors infringing on their privacy. Mare was thrilled they had the restroom to themselves for some hours.

Finally, they began cleaning themselves. At that moment, a short blond-haired girl with an elf costume stormed into the bathroom. She vomited on the floor. Whatever the cause, Maré could not deduce her perceiving their presence as she furtively crawled into the toilet.

“Oh, my God! Did you see that?” Maria spoke as the blonde-haired woman rushed out of the bathroom.

“Santa leaves presents, not puddles of puke. Alcoholics need to know their limits.” Maré jested.

Maré and Maria laughed in unison and left the bathroom.

Later that evening, Maré and Maria made a sex tape wearing their Santa Claus costumes. They could never forget their SantaCon experience. 12/13/14 was a special day!