7. MILA
7
MILA
JANUARY
M aking my way down the busy New York street, I stop at the very fountain Carolina pulled me into only a few short weeks ago. Only now the slushie fountain is rock-hard ice. If I didn’t want to risk looking like a moron, I could probably put on a pair of ice skates and whip around on it.
Parking my ass on the edge of the fountain, I pull out the little letter I’ve written a million times over these past few weeks, not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing with this whole wish thing.
In the past, I’ve just closed my eyes and wished. It didn’t matter where I was or how it happened. All I know is that I made the wish inside my head and come Christmas morning, the little charm for my bracelet would appear. Only now it feels different. A simple wish almost doesn’t seem enough after the night we spent together.
But what really confuses me is what I am supposed to wish for.
The raunchy wish I’d made was done after drinking two bottles of cheap wine, and now that I know that I can ask him for just about anything in the world, my options are endless. Figuring out what to wish for though . . . that is a struggle.
But also, are Christmas wishes made in January still valid? I don’t know what kind of magic it is that allows him to be able to whip around the whole globe in a single night and visit over two billion homes, but does that magic extend outside of the Christmas season?
I’ve got no fucking clue, and sitting here on the edge of a frozen fountain with my letter to Santa makes me feel like such a fucking loser. If anybody were to stop and ask what I was doing, they’d have me committed and strapped to a bed in a straitjacket.
Shaking off the doubt, my gaze trails down to the letter as I unfold it, reading over it one last time and hoping that I get this right.
Dear Nick, A.K.A the PussySlayer3000,
I have no idea what I’m doing, but what I do know is that my boring wishes of the past are going to stay in the past. After discovering just what you and your big red sleigh are capable of, I feel it’s time we start pushing some boundaries.
There are twelve months in the year, and considering the five checkbox wishes you so graciously allowed me to make this past Christmas, I’m going to go ahead and assume having twelve wishes really isn’t too much to ask. Though, I was thoroughly exhausted after your last visit. I don’t know if my lady taco can physically handle any more than five wishes, but as we recently discovered, I’m more than up for a good challenge.
By the way, you completely rocked my world in case you hadn’t realized. I just hate that you had to leave, but I get it.
So, here’s the deal. Every month, I’m going to come and sit right here on the edge of this stupid fountain and send you my wish. As for the letter, I have no idea if you’re actually going to get it or if all of this is going to be some big waste of time. But I’m committed now.
There’s no going back.
Anyway, for my first wish this Christmas. I think it comes as no surprise that I need you to take me the second you see me. It’s going to be a looooong year waiting for you to appear in my stupidly cramped living room, so we’re going to need a quickie just to get it out of our systems. After that, we can take our time! Might I suggest throwing me up against the wall and slamming inside of me? Don’t worry, I’ll be ready for you this year. No accidentally falling asleep this time.
Anyway, that’s it. I don’t really know what else I’m supposed to say, only that I kinda miss you. Is that ridiculous?
Love always,
Your Christmess Eve Stalkee.
I’m not exactly thrilled with my letter, but honestly, I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to the guy who’s been stalking me for the past twenty years. He thoroughly rocked my world, and if I’m completely honest, it took well over three days before I was able to walk around without feeling exactly where he’d been. I loved every second of it.
Christmas morning came, and I didn’t even notice how alone I was. All I could think about was the night I’d just spent with a man who I think is amazing. Truth be told, I guess I don’t really know. He’s the perfect stranger, and yet, I feel like my soul instantly knew him. That’s weird, right?
Fuck.
Feeling the chill of the late January air, I stand from the fountain’s edge and turn to look at what’s usually flowing water. My plan was to toss the letter into the water, just like I’d tossed the penny in, but I suppose that’s not going to work today considering it’s completely frozen over.
Trying to figure out a plan, I shamelessly search around the fountain, probably looking like a fucking idiot, before finally finding a loose tile along the fountain edge and lifting it up. Sliding the Christmas letter wish beneath it, I let out a heavy breath, and deciding there’s no going back now, I lower the tile back down and walk away, hoping like hell he receives it.
FEbrUARY
To the Midnight Pussy Penetrator with Exceptional Tongue Game,
Sooo . . . I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I lied in my last letter.
I don’t just kinda miss you. I miss you a lot, which I feel really stupid about. I didn’t realize I could become so attached to someone after only one night. But then, is it only just one night? It’s more like 20 years of thinking about you. Wondering who you are and what kind of man you became. (By the way, I really appreciate the kind of man you’ve grown into. Like really, really appreciate it.)
It’s been two months since Christmas, and I still haven’t figured out how to write a proper letter to you. I’m still stuck on what to say. Hell, I don’t even know if you’re getting these or not, but like I said in my last letter, I’m committed now. I’m seeing this through right until I get to see you again.
So, here I go, for my second wish, Mr. Genie, I need you to keep exploring my small apartment. By this point, we would have already screwed up against the wall, but I feel as though the kitchen counter is missing out. So, why don’t we head over there and give the walls of the kitchen something to talk about? I’ve been thinking about that skilled tongue of yours a lot, so let’s put it back into action. Spread my thighs and go to town with that mouth. Make my whole body crumble, but also, be creative about it. I want to feel as though I’m the most desirable woman in the world.
Love Always,
Santa’s Favorite Ho!
MARCH
To the Dick-Me-Down Demon,
We’re three months into the year and I’m already going crazy. To put it bluntly, I’m horny as all hell! What are the chances of an accidental pre-Christmas sacrificial fucking? I know it’s against the rules and all that, and I’m sure granting Christmas wishes outside of the giving season is frowned upon, but damn. I have an itch and it desperately needs to be scratched.
How am I supposed to last till the end of the year? I’ve run my batteries dead on every single one of my vibrators, but despite how I loved my vibrators before, they’re not even getting the job done. You ruined me for everything else. Though I suppose that’s on me. I wished for you to fuck me so good that nothing else could ever compare. I didn’t realize just how literally you’d take that.
Orgasms aren’t even fun now. I just need to come so hard that I feel the earth shake beneath my feet...or back, assuming you’ll have me on my back when you make that happen.
That’s my wish by the way. All I need is to come so damn hard my world implodes.
Please and thank you.
Love always,
A Girl Whose Fingers Are Sore from Frantically Trying to Get Off and Failing.
APRIL
To my Dearest Saint Nicholas, (but not your dad because that would be weird!!)
I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think I’ve fucked up. I’ve gone too hard in my first three wishes. I won’t be able to survive the night, especially if we go in order. So from here on out, I need to be careful. I need to make sure we can make it right through to the final wish, otherwise, I won’t just be disappointed in myself, I’ll be devastated.
What’s the point of getting to have all these wishes if I can’t actually have them?
In other news, my bosses at work are being assholes, and it’s really making for a shit time. Kinda hating the thought of getting up every morning and slaving away for them. I don’t really have much else going on at the moment.
My whole life feels like it’s in shambles. My ex finally realized how badly he fucked up and came crawling back, and after I told him to get lost, he tried to get in my pants. But not even my desperation to be railed will have me welcoming him back into my bed.
As for the whole friend situation, Carolina finally got the promotion she’d been working for, but now she’s one of my bosses and pretends as though we were never friends, and as for my ex-bestie, I still can’t find it in me to forgive her. I don’t think I ever will.
Maybe I’m just feeling weird this month because it would have been my father’s sixtieth birthday.
I suppose for my wish this month, I just want to be able to feel something. I’ll leave that one up to you to figure out.
Love always,
Mila
xxx
MAY
To the One and Only Clitermas Extraordinaire,
Okay soooooo...My last letter was a bit of a buzz kill. Bet you got real hard over that shit.
I would like to tell you that everything has gotten a bit better and that I stuck it to my bosses, but surprise, surprise, I haven’t. I bitched out.
But in other news, at least I don’t feel quite so pathetic.
I’ve been using all my spare time to try and come up with a solution to my lack of getting off situation, and I feel I’ve come up with something that could potentially do the trick. So for my next Christmas wish (I’m starting to lose count. How many are we up to? Is this number five or six?) I wish to have a perfect mold of your dick that I can ride anytime I want. This way, whenever the mood strikes, I won’t be shamefully let down by my own inability to get the job done. (Must come with veins and all. Batteries not included! Also, Christmas red is suddenly my new favorite color, so let’s roll with that!)
Love always,
Your Magical Christmas Cum Dumpster
JUNE
To Nicholas (no last name), the Heavyweight Girth Champion,
I don’t even know if you’re getting these letters. I’ve been leaving them at the same fountain I made my wish last year and they’re all still here, so I’m assuming you get copies? How does that even work? There are so many questions! I found a loose tile, and so far it’s been doing well to conceal all of my letters, but it’s getting a little crowded in there.
On to the important things. My wish.
So, last month I wished for a huge replica of your cock to ride, and the moment I sent my wish off into the universe (beneath the broken tile) I was insanely jealous. Why am I out here riding a replica of your massive appendage when I haven’t even gotten a chance to ride the real one? So that’s my wish this month. I’m going to ride you as I see fit. On the floor. On the couch. On the rooftop beside your sleeping reindeer. I haven’t quite worked it out. But what I do know is that you’re going to lay back and take everything I’m willing to give you. And boy, I better see you fall apart.
Yours truly,
The Sexual Deviant Who’s Going to Bring You to Your Knees
JULY
To the Dick-Tator of My Wettest Dreams,
Call me sentimental, but we’re past the six-month mark, and I won’t lie, this year is turning out harder than I thought, and I’m missing you more than you could know. This Christmas, I just want to know more about you. I want more time with you. I just need...more.
Seeing you disappear into thin air and waiting for something I don’t know will ever come has killed me. I can’t lie to you, Nick. I think my heart broke when you left.
So that’s all I’m wishing for this month, just to get to know you better. To know the real you. I don’t want you to hold anything back.
I’m sorry, you were probably hoping for some raunchy wish to come through so you could spend the rest of the month jerking off to my words. My bad. I promise, I’ll do better next month. I hope.
Maybe it’s my fault. I’ve alienated myself from the world, I still hate my job, and I have no friends. I can’t talk to anybody about you. Hell, I’m starting to wonder if my mom was right all those years ago. Are you just a figment of my imagination? Was last Christmas nothing more than a wild dream?
Sorry.
Yours always,
A Girl Terrified of Breaking Her Own Heart
AUGUST
To My Dearest Master Baitor,
Okay. I know you said something about being a creepy Santa Stalker, but just how far does that go? Have you been checking in on me, or are these letters enough to keep your raging erection at bay? I suppose life has been hard. (Just as I assume you’ve been all year.)
Tell me, Santa, do you still picture me from that night? Think about the way you spread me apart and ravaged me? I do. Every moment of every day. I hardly get anything done.
I don’t know how much longer I can wait. Not getting to be with you right now is killing me. Not to mention, at this point, I’m pretty sure I’m writing these letters to a figment of my imagination. I might need to see somebody about this.
But what I really need is to feel you sliding into me from behind. I want you to bend me over, wrap your hand around my hair and fuck me from behind. I want it rough. Don’t you dare hold back. And when you’re done, I need you to tell me what a good girl I was.
I want you in my mouth while I ride your replica cock. I want it all.
Fuck, I’m too horny for my own good.
There you have it, my raunchiest of Santas. That’s my filthy Christmas wish.
P.S. Happy jerking!
P.P.S. I wouldn’t be opposed to handcuffs or blindfolds.
Yours truly,
A Woman Wondering If Her Saucy Santa Might Be Down for a Bit of Ass Play
SEPTEMBER
To the Pining Pussy Perpetrator,
I’ve been thinking more about this whole ass-play thing. I’m curious. I’m not quite sure if it’s a wish at this point, but can we not wipe it completely off the table just yet?
Let’s play around, see how I feel. It’s already going to be such a big night, and to be honest, I’ve not exactly had the greatest sexual partners in the past who’ve made me feel very comfortable in that situation. So, let’s pencil it into the roster. Santa is going to possibly claim my ass.
Buuuuuut...maybe I should prepare myself a bit. After all, the sheer size of your cock would probably tear me in half, and I know I say I’m always up for a challenge, but some challenges simply take it too far.
Can we count this as a half wish, like a possibility wish?
Please and thank you.
Though, in the meantime, just know that I’m all the way over here in New York in my tiny piece-of-shit apartment, spending my free time preparing my ass for your possible invasion. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful and start slow. There will be plenty of lube all over my body, and as I touch and stretch myself, it’ll be you I’m thinking of.
I do hope that gives you a nice visual to work with.
Always,
Your Dick Demoness
OCTOBER
To the Beastly Bitch Banger,
I finally did it. I quit my job, and I don’t really know where to go from here.
I’m not exactly struggling. I have plenty of inheritance from my father’s estate, but like...what am I even doing? I’m taking up space in this shitty little apartment that doesn’t offer me any kind of life and about to start looking for jobs just as terrible as the one I left.
What is this life? Surely there must be something better for me in the grand scheme of things.
I wish I could be with you all the time. I don’t even know where you live or what you do with the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year, but I’m sure you have it better than I do.
Ugh! Look at me ranting when I should be using this time to write you an exciting letter, though it doesn’t look like this one is shaping up to be very much fun.
I suppose I’m missing you.
Fuck. That’s a lie. I more than miss you. I think I’m getting too attached to the idea of you. I think I might even be falling for you.
Anyway, for my wish this month, I’m not really sure. I mean, if you consider all the other wishes, I really don’t know what kind of energy we’ll have left. Though, you don’t strike me as the type to give up from a lack of energy. You’re the power through type. And in that case, my wish is for you to surprise me.
Give or do something I’m not expecting.
Yours always,
The Radiant Little Ray of Fuckable Sunshine
NOVEMBER
To He Who I Assume Has the Bluest of Balls Right About Now,
I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe I’m having second thoughts about all of this. I’ve been sitting around writing letters to a man I’ll never truly be able to have, and what’s worse is I think I’m well and truly in love with you. I’m such an idiot.
I suppose my wish for this letter is to have some clarity. I want to see you so bad, but at what point do I move on with my life? Do I spend the rest of my life sitting by this stupid fountain and shoving little love letters under a tile, or do I move on and try to find somebody to settle down with? Maybe get a big house and pop out a few kids just like my father always wanted for me.
I keep finding myself wondering about what a life with you might look like, and I’m sure that’s absurd, right? You’re Santa Claus for fuck’s sake. What am I to you? Just some girl you get to fuck come Christmas. Where’s Mrs. Claus? Are you married with a bunch of little elf-like children running around?
Fuck. Maybe I’m wasting my time with all of this.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m really excited to see you. I suppose I’m just conflicted.
At what point am I supposed to grow up and make something of myself, you know?
Anyway, I’ve started putting Christmas decorations up early, trying to get into the Christmas spirit and all that crap. Halloween is well and truly over and now the whole world is focused solely on you.
Kinda jealous of all the attention you’re getting from all these other women. Though to be fair, they think you’re nothing more than a myth. If only they knew just how well that myth got me off last year.
I’m counting down the days until I get to see you.
Love always,
Your Mila
DECEMBER
To the Christmas Cunt-Stable with the Big Jingle Balls,
Okay. Christmas is well and truly here, and despite not accepting any of the ridiculous job offers and being the loneliest person in the world, I’m allowing myself to be excited, even if Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas anymore. To be fair, I don’t think that has anything to do with you. Seeing you is the only thing really keeping me from falling apart.
I bought a little something for you, and despite losing count of how many actual wishes I’ve made, my final one is to watch you tear it off me with your teeth.
God, I really can’t wait. I have butterflies just thinking about what our night will be like.
I hope I haven’t scared you away by admitting that I was falling head over heels in love with you. I still think it’s ridiculous to love somebody I hardly know, but there’s no doubt about it. It’s there and as real as it could ever be.
Today is the twentieth of December. There’s only a handful of days until I get to see you, and—ahhh shit. I got all emotional, and now I’m tearing up.
Just hurry, okay? Not getting to see you, feel you, taste you, or have you has almost broken me. I really don’t know how I’m supposed to handle it next year.
Truly yours,
Future Mrs. Claus (in my dreams)
Shit. That was too much, wasn’t it? But I wrote it in pen, and I really don’t want to start over. Just pretend it isn’t there. I’ll sign off again.
Always,
Your Favorite Little Cream Pie