Nicolas, bishop of Myra in TurkeySweet Santa is me, who writes these verses for you two in EnglandSweet Santa is also Your dear Deb with her X-mas pre...sents to You!--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Sweet Santa's bones are in a crypt in Bari, in Italy, but his believers are only in Holland, at firstSweet Santa is called 'Santa Claus' in English speaking countries, after the Dutch. The lot was pretty empty, mostly vehicles of workers I would believe. I can hear my heart pounding in the silence of the night with my hand on the door handle… “Okay, 3, 2 1...” I say to myself out loud. I push the door open and I am off and head straight to the lit doors. I took my heels off in the car and I can feel the rough asphalt rubbing the soles of my feet as I walk, almost like a nice deep tissue massage. The damp summer air feels amazing and cools my skin as I walk. I am greeted at. My parents wanted to send me back to the private school, but I begged them to let me stay at home, and they finally relented. Christmas was wonderful and we had many guests during the holidays. I started school with my friends and like all of the other girls I began to grow taller, and filled out about the same as they did. As the days went by I quit thinking of myself as a boy in a dress, especially when I had to shower with the other girls. We all looked alike. When I was 14 Kevin asked. He gave it to my wife hard, and the sound of pounding flesh along with my wife’s cries filled the small motel room. A few minutes had passed and Jason grabbed the back of my wife’s hair. He pulled her head up off the bed, and began to ram every inch of his cock deep into her. “Take it baby! Take it!” Jason shouted out. It was too much for my wife to take, and seconds later she screamed out into another earth shattering orgasm. Her body shook like never before, and I heard her screams fill.