Bang in the Yulelog

http://www.asstr.org/~srb

Don't read if under 18 or illegal in your little corner of the world, like you'll listen. This should appear only on my site http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/srb/www/ F3, Futanari Palace, and basically should be wherever Pal's stuff is. Also at the Grey Archive, and some other places they might end up, they know who they are. Any websites that want to host my story must have expressed written consent to do so. I will list all websites that I have granted permission to list my stories there. If you are reading this now and find this on a new website, then please email me at somerandombastard (at) yahoo (dot) com

This is copyright me, so don’t call it yours. Feedback can be left here. I created all the characters, they are all fictional, and any relevance to anyone living or dead, is incidental. I created the entire fictional universe in which they inhabit, if you’re interested in writing in this world than feel free to email me. I’ve pretty willing.

Yet another one day story. This was done and edited in 9 hours, 45 minutes, including bathroom/snack/phone/whatever breaks. 10,552 words is a pretty good job, in my opinion.

This story contains futa/male/female (Although no futa penetrating male) snowball and oral

Bang in the Yulelog

Somewhere people were wrapping gifts, putting the finishing touches on the tree, cooking Christmas dinner, and all of the other cliché Christmas activities.

Paul hated it. He liked the holiday, liked the mood, but he hated how everything had become a chore. It was kind of surprising how it all came up on you all of a sudden, that it wasn’t being nice, or friendly, or happy, but just another thing you had to deal with, like taxes. He had drained his savings of more than he could afford, to get gifts for his family and friends, and most importantly, his girl Jennifer. He sighed, leaning back in his recliner. ‘Time to watch a game’ he thought with a grin, flicking the television on. Notre Dame playing in another meaning bowl game, this time at least in Honolulu, which should be nicer than Indiana. Paul snorted ‘I wish I could enjoy eighty degree weather.’ The snow that had piled up outside during the last few storms had turned into a pile of wet slush, made all the worse by the freezing rain. He didn’t want to go out, but loathed the traffic tomorrow when he would have to visit Jen’s parents.

He checked the clock, Jen was supposed to be here by now. He shrugged it off and grabbed a Guinness from the fridge, looking at the gift bags. This year he decided to be ‘smart’ and just put everything in a bag. It wasn’t like he had kids, where for them half of the fun was opening the gifts. Even the nicest tape job in the world didn’t matter, it was forgotten as soon as the wrap was opened, and the present revealed.

And boy had he gotten a present this year. He went big time,