"A Nonsense Christmas" with Sabrina Carpenter

[TheLW]

A Nonsense Christmas
With Sabrina Carpenter
Written by TheLW
Codes: MF, Anal, Blowjob, Fingering, Rimjob
Disclaimer: This FICTIONAL story was written for entertainment purposes only

The apartment was alive with Christmas magic. The tree in the corner sparkled, lights twinkling across the ornaments, some catching in the glossy waves of Sabrina’s blonde hair. The faint scent of pine mixed with cinnamon candles and the lingering smell of hot chocolate, giving the room a cozy warmth despite the winter chill outside. Sabrina stood near the tree, the red satin bow lingerie hugging her curves and catching the lights with every subtle movement. The bow stretched across her chest, long ribbon-like panels cascading down the front, leaving her sides bare and drawing attention to the playful, theatrical design. Her soft, voluminous waves framed her face perfectly, tumbling over her shoulders like a polished waterfall, the kind that looked effortless but had been meticulously crafted.

The front door clicked open. Footsteps echoed softly across the hardwood floors, and Sabrina turned slowly, a sly smile curving her lips.

“Joe,” she called, tilting her head just enough to let the ribbons sway. “I think I only want you under my mistletoe.”

Joe stopped in the doorway, eyes widening, jaw slackening slightly. He dropped his coat and scarf onto the chair by the door, barely noticing, captivated by the sight of her. “Sabrina... wow,” he said, his voice thick with awe.

She took a step closer, teasingly swaying her hips. “I might change your contact to ‘Has a huge North Pole,’” she purred. “You said you like my stockings better on the floor...”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head as he approached, trying to contain his excitement. “You’ve been a bad girl, huh?”

“Guess I’m getting coal,” she teased, brushing a fingertip along one of the ribbon panels. Then, leaning in, her voice dropped to a sultry whisper, “Lemme come warm you up... you’ve been out in the snow all day.”

Joe’s pulse quickened as her lips hovered near his ear. “Baby, my tongue goes numb... sounds like ‘ho-ho-ho,’” she added, her grin mischievous.

He laughed, pulling her closer, hands resting on her waist. “And you don’t want Santa’s elves underneath this tree, I take it?”

Sabrina shook her head, stepping so close their bodies almost touched. “Nope. Here’s a little carol I wrote,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “It’s about you and me.”

“You’re my wish list,” she whispered, brushing the tip of her nose against his, her satin bow shimmering in the glow of the lights. “Snowflakes in my stomach when we’re kissin’...”

Joe leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. “When you’re coming down the chimney...”

“Ooh,” Sabrina sighed, tilting her head back slightly, letting her hair fan out over her shoulders. “It feels so good. I need that Charles Dickens energy... you’ll be Santa Claus, and I’ll be Mrs. Claus.”

Joe’s grin widened, his hands tightening gently at her waist. “Oh, I’ll be Santa Claus alright,” he said, lowering his voice in a teasing growl. “And you, Mrs. Claus, you’ll ride with me.”

Sabrina’s laughter rang through the apartment, light and musical. She swayed closer, letting the long ribbons of the bow slide across his chest as she whispered, “I don’t even know... I’m talking Christmas. Decking all the halls... spiking the eggnog... opposite of small, talking big snowballs.”

“I got a new toy for you, Mrs. Claus,” Joe said, mock-seriously, grabbing her gently by the hips and spinning her once so the ribbons swirled around her like a flowing red cape. “And I’m out here trimming the tree for you,” she answered back, with a devilish grin.

Her hands trailed over his shoulders as she stepped back slightly, teasing. “Caught that holiday glee, huh? My true love gave it to me.”

Joe leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, smiling against the soft glow of the tree. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Claus,” he murmured. “You’re my favorite present.”

Sabrina’s lips curved into a grin, hands brushing his chest as she teased, “And you, Santa Claus, are mine.”

The room felt suspended in a perfect moment, twinkling lights reflecting off satin and blonde waves, the warmth of each other in the cold of winter, the playful lyrics of their own private carol floating in the air.

Sabrina slid her palms down Joe’s chest, pausing just a second, feeling the thump of his heart through his shirt. She grinned up at him, matte red lips promising trouble, then dropped to her knees in one smooth movement. The world above her narrowed to the heat between them and the Christmas lights flickering in his pupils. She unbuttoned his jeans with steady fingers. Slow at first, she loved the sound of his breath thickening, the way he dug one hand into her hair. She liked the power dynamic, the way this bow-and-ribbon thing made her seem innocent, when every nerve in her body was plotting otherwise.

She tugged his pants, boxers and all, down past his hips. Joe’s cock sprang free, flushed and already leaking at the tip. Sabrina licked her lips, another show, which she knew he liked, then spat lightly onto her palm and wrapped her hand around the shaft, working her wrist with a slow, practiced twist. She watched him the whole time. He looked down at her, eyes dark, mouth open, already lost to the anticipation.

“God, Sabrina,” he said.

She gripped him tighter, taking the head into her mouth, hot and soft and slick over her tongue. Joe hissed through his teeth, the sound of it running through her like an electric current. She pulled back, swirling her tongue beneath the tip, then down, slowly, letting him watch the way her lips glided along the length of him. It was all showmanship, the angle of her jaw, the drag of her fingers resting over his thigh, the tiniest twist of her smile when she heard him catch his breath. She flattened her tongue and licked a long stripe from base to tip, then took him again, deeper this time. He groaned, hand tightening in her hair, and she let the sound sink into her.

God, she loved the control. Loved how his hand, gentle at first, tensed in her hair as she swallowed him deeper, lips stretched, saliva slicking his length. She built a rhythm, slow and greedy, letting him hear every wet pop and suck. Sabrina liked it when he tried to stay quiet, bit back the noises, but eventually he always lost. She gripped his hips and let him fill her mouth, pushed until she choked and her eyes watered, until her own pulse hammered in her ears and it was impossible to tell whether he was the one trembling or she was.

Above her, the Christmas lights blurred and danced. She popped off his cock once more with a gasp, stroking the length, letting her chin rest on his thigh, a string of saliva trailing from the tip of his rock hard cock to her lips.

“Still think you’re Santa Claus?”

He laughed. “Pretty sure I’m the one on the Naughty List now.”

She pressed a kiss to the head of his cock, then another to the sharp point of his hip, before pushing herself up, knees creaking only slightly.

“That’s because you’re not finished unwrapping your present.”

He put a thumb to her lower lip, tracing the edge. “You’re such a menace.”

Sabrina shrugged, brushing her hair back. “Take it up with Mrs. Claus. She’s got a lot of backlogged paperwork for Santa.” She guided his hands to her hips, then turned, presenting her back. “Help me?”

He untied the bow at the top, and watched the satin give way, the single careful pull undoing the architecture of her entire getup. The bow slipped forward, cascading over her breasts, then slackening as gravity reasserted itself. For a moment she left the ribbons hanging, a curtain that half-revealed, half-framed the sculptural curves of her body.

“Hurry up, Santa,” she breathed, glancing back over her shoulder.

So he did, sliding the unraveled panels off her arms, letting the silk slither to her wrists, then fall to the floor. She arched back against him, reaching up and over, tugging his head down to the curve of her neck. The smell of her, hair sweet and sharp, skin warm and faintly spiced, flooded him, and he pressed his lips gently into the slope of her shoulder, holding her just tight enough to feel the edges of her body.

Sabrina made a sound, and backed into Joe, wriggling until his cock pressed hard against the cleft of her ass. His hands moved by instinct, one braced her flat at the hip, the other gliding up to cup her breast, thumb brushing the soft arc. She liked that, he knew, her head tipped back, loose blonde hair brushing his cheek, the faintest gasp escaping her lips.

"You're supposed to ask what I want for Christmas," she said, her throat tight with anticipation.

"That's not how the story goes. You tell me and I see if you've been good enough to get it."

"What if I want to be bad?" she murmured.

She tried to turn, meaning to face him, but Joe anchored her in place. Sabrina grinned, there it was, the playful power shift she craved, and let him orchestrate the moment. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder, then another, trailing down her spine. His hand splayed over her hip, the other found the inside of her thigh, lifting and parting her until she was standing, half-bared, in the blinking pixel-light of the tree, and he knelt behind her.

He spread her with both hands, palms sure and hungry, fingers digging into the subtle muscle just above her ass, and parted her, exposing all of her to the warm, pine-scented air. The moment stretched, half a breath, the tree’s colored lights blinking merrily in silent approval, before he leaned in, tongue hot and wet, lapping gently at her backdoor.

Sabrina gasped, head sagging forward, arms braced against the window frame. The first tentative lick sent an electric surge up her spine. She let her hips tip back, giving him everything, because she craved taking up space and feeling herself filled. His tongue rimmed her, slow and insistent, then pressed deeper, exploratory. She shuddered at the unexpectedness of it, how deliberate, how careful his tongue became, flattening and curling, circling the tight ring, coaxing it to soften.

Joe spread her wider and dove in, licking a stripe from her slit up between her cheeks, the tip of his tongue teasing the tight, star-shaped muscle. Sabrina made a noise he’d never heard before. Joe gripped her harder, anchoring her against his mouth, and sealed his lips around her asshole, tongue pressing into her rectum. He worked her, lapping away with the tip of his tongue, flattening it, alternating, testing her reactions, mapping the way her breath punched out of her and every muscle in her thighs shuddered.

Sabrina never stopped moving. She rolled her hips, glancing back just long enough to catch a glimpse of Joe’s face, hungry, a little wild. It twisted her up inside, the way he lost himself in it, like she was some rare treat to be devoured. He flicked the tip of his tongue over her, again and again, persistently. She felt the hot, slick pleasure, delicate and dirty at once, and bit down on her lip to keep quiet.

Eventually, Joe broke away, spit slicking her, and rose to his feet, before spinning Sabrina around. She tried to say something clever but it turned into a whimper. A moment later, Joe lifted Sabrina up and lowered her onto his cock, the blonde actress wrapping her legs around him, as Joe trust into the blonde pocket rocket.

Sabrina clung to Joe, thighs clamping tight around his waist, the sudden plunge making her gasp and clutch harder at his shoulders. He filled her, God, she felt stretched, split wide, the first greedy inch sending slick heat through her core. She curled her ankles at the small of his back and held on, burying her face in his neck, inhaling the fresh air chill that clung to his skin.

Joe braced her with one hand under her thigh, the other gripping her ass. He pressed her flat to the wall beside the Christmas tree, her spine arching sharply between the drywall and his chest. With each thrust, her back thudded a little against the wall, the shallow rhythm punctuated by low, urgent exhalations. Her hair, tangled now, brushed against his cheek. Every time she opened her mouth to tease him, the words fuzzed away, replaced by the stuttering moans that broke past her throat.

He fucked her slow at first, savoring how tight she was, the way her body shuddered and clenched every time he bottomed out. The heat inside her seemed to burn with the twinkle of the lights. For a moment, he just watched her face, eyes squeezed shut, lashes trembling, lips parted and her jaw slack with every motion of his hips.

Joe reached higher, letting her body slide up and down his cock as if she weighed nothing, and she broke into giggles as she bounced against him, the air between them electric. Her calves flexed against his ass, heels digging in, and the rhythm gained urgency, a hard slapping that was matched by the frantic flicker of the tree lights.

“Jesus,” he said, teeth gritted, forehead pressed into the crown of her hair. Her pussy clamped around him, the muscles seizing in surprise and then melting as she readjusted, shifting her hips to take him deeper. Sabrina let him hold all her weight, as he slid in and out of her well fucked cunt.

Joe turned, carrying her with him, bare feet thudding against the cold hardwood, and set her down on the couch. Sabrina instantly flipped onto all fours, hair sweeping in a languid wave as she braced herself on the arm of the couch, knees digging into the cushion. The motion made her ass high, perfectly rounded, as Sabrina arched her back, spine swaying in a way that made the curve from neck to tailbone almost hypnotic, and shot him a look over her shoulder, eyebrow cocked, lips pursed in a bratty dare.

Joe ran a hand up her back, following the ridge and valley of muscle and bone, then grabbed her hips, guiding her backward until the tip of his cock pressed against her backdoor. Sabrina was greedy for it, he could see the way she rocked against his hand, impatient, thighs trembling as she waited for more. He braced his other palm at the small of her back, and pushed forward, slow at first, savoring the first clench of her around him.

She let out a sharp, involuntary cry, and gripped the armrest tighter. The sound fed straight into his spine like a jolt. He pushed deeper, inch by inch, slowly feeding his cock into Sabrina’s asshole. He felt her seize at the intrusion, the snug, impossible heat drawing a muted hiss from her, and then she was pushing back, biting down on another moan as the stretch turned from shock to a slow, relentless ache that began to bloom into something else. Joe sank in until he bottomed out, hands gentle but gripping her like he might float away if he let go.

“Ugh!” Sabrina moans, as she briefly looks back towards Joe.

Sabrina had never been this full, body vibrating with the aftershock of each careful thrust. At first, he moved slow, tiny glides, half-torment, drawing out until she could unclench her jaw and breathe again. Every ridge and vein pressed tight, impossible to ignore, stoking a fevered edge in her that hovered somewhere between pain and pride. The hand at her lower back was a tether, holding her steady as he began to work her, shallow and patient.

She pressed her forehead down to the crook of the couch, listening to the crunch of the couch springs, the impossibly wet, obscene noises rising up with each push. God, it was filthy, the mess of it, even before he reached around, wetting his fingers in the slick wetness between her legs and spreading it over her other entrance, easing the slide, softening the burn.

Joe’s finger slipped easily inside of her sex mound, the heat and the slickness so intense. She was gasping into a nearby throw pillow, her hips bracketing his hand, her whole body arching so she could take both at once. His cock thrust into her ass, her muscles working around him, and at the same time her cunt gripped his finger like it wanted to drag him in and swallow him whole. He couldn’t believe how greedy she was for all of it, he’d never seen her like this, sobbing and moaning at the same time, her voice jangling between pleasure and protest as he split her open from both ends.

“Joe!” Her voice was a warning, or maybe even a dare, or just his name, the way she said it.

He twisted his finger slowly, then pulled back and drove two in at once, a little rough, and she ground back on them so hard he thought she might break him. He fucked her with short, deep strokes, pressing the strong curve of his stomach to the small of her back, flattening her to the couch. It smelled like sex, rich, sharp, invasive, and her body squelched wetly every time he curled his fingers inside her.

 “Oh my god, oh my god,” she said, not even trying to muffle it this time.

Her fingers curled into the upholstery and she shoved her hips back to meet every push. The pain was there, but the pleasure was like a current surging beneath it, pulling her under as her cunt and ass fluttered and grabbed at Joe with every inch. His thrusts got meaner, a greedy need that added a new pressure at the root of her spine and made her toes flex and dig into the cushion.

He found the spot, that goddamned spot inside her, and curled his fingers, pressing up and forward in time with the next thrust. Sabrina bucked against him, nearly folded herself in half, her hand flailing out to clutch blindly for anything, his forearm, the top of the cushion, the coarse wool of the Christmas blanket bunched under her knees.

“That’s it,” she sputtered, “fuck, fuck, don’t stop...”

Joe wasn’t planning on it, at least not yet. He bore down harder, bringing both hands to the shelf of her hips to keep her right where he wanted her. Sabrina’s ass looked obscene, bright red from his hands, occasionally twitching as if unsure whether to clench or simply surrender. He watched her try to rock back onto him, with disjointed little movements. It was messy and raw and the closest thing to pure need he’d ever seen in her.

Sabrina was making noises that got lost in the couch. Each hammer like thrust of his cock inside her ass was met by a spasm in her cunt around his driving fingers. The world narrowed to the slap of his hips and the grip of her, the wet chaos where his palm met her sex, and the raking of her nails through the upholstery. Her body was almost convulsing, and he could feel her tightening around him as if every muscle in her body was in revolt and worship at the same time.

“Don’t stop...” Sabrina tried, and then choked on her own voice.

It happened fast, the way her orgasm hit, but he felt it coil in her, as Sabrina’s back arched, muscles taut and trembling, as the shock of it raced outward, thrumming through every nerve ending. She clamped around Joe so tight he gasped, and the pain-pleasure blurred until the only thing anchoring her was his hand, his cock, the sound of him breathing ragged above her.

Joe grunted, barely holding back from coming with her, and steadied himself as the pulsing aftershocks rippled through her body. He withdrew his fingers, sticky and shining, and slicked them over her reddened cheeks, gripping tight, bouncing her once on his cock just to hear the shocked little gasp she made. He leaned in, wrapped an arm around her belly, and kissed the small of her back, lips finding the hot, blotchy skin, all salty and sweaty.

Sabrina’s breath came in shattered pieces, her forehead still pressed into the upholstery. She felt empty and full at the same time, like something had been pulled through her, left raw and burning but clean, almost. Her hands clawed at the pillow and the edge of the fabric by instinct.

She expected him to slow down, to cradle her, to work the aftershocks out in gentle passes. Instead, Joe set a brutal pace. He wanted to finish inside her , she could feel the greed in the way his fingers dug into her hips, in the slap of flesh on flesh, in the ragged, high-pitched shout he tried and failed to stifle. For a second she floated, not even in her own body, just a bundle of nerve and sensation as his thrusts went hard and fast.

Sabrina could hear him behind her, the mess of grunts and staggered breath, and she knew he was close. She’d never had a man lose his mind the way Joe lost his, like she drove him to pure, animalistic instinct. It flattered her, delighted her, sent a dart of pride right through the soft haze of her brain.

She braced herself, and the world telescoped down to three points... the bracing ache of his cock stuffed up her ass, the after-pulse of her own orgasm, and the anticipation of his, rising, close, imminent. She bit down on the throw pillow, inhaling the scent of Christmas tree and cinnamon, body singing with sweat and the residue of pleasure. Behind her, Joe slammed home one last time, full force.

Joe pulled her back hard against him, one full, deep thrust that made her see white, and came. She felt the twitch and spasm of him inside, a sudden heat blooming with each throbbing pulse. Sabrina pressed her body into the cushions and rode it out, glorying in the filthy fullness, the rawness of every nerve ending scraping tender.

He stilled for a moment, forehead pressed to the arch of her spine, both of them panting. The silence was dense with the afterglow and the faint, frantic jangle of the tree lights, the ornaments swaying gently.

Sabrina’s thighs quaked. She brought a hand up, swiping the tangle of hair out of her face, and then twisted to look at him. Joe slid out slowly, leaving her pried open and dripping. She felt the slide of cum down her thigh, and grinned dopily at him.

When he finally let go, he folded forward over her back, wrapping a shaky arm beneath her stomach and dragging her upright against his chest. The move felt more like a rescue than a cuddle, Sabrina limp and shaky in his lap. Her hair was a disaster, face pressed and flushed, and she let herself collapse back against him, feeling sapped. He nuzzled her shoulder, then kissed the top of her head.

The End