A Visit from St. Dick

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, save for a dormouse;
Clad in only striped stockings with no one to greet,
slept the brunette rodent who was also a NEET.

She was nestled snugly inside of her bed,
naughty thoughts filling the dormouse’s head;
Of a man in the bathtub who was quite the singer,
made the mouse’s hand travel to slip in a finger .

You see Christmas was special for a different reason,
more than Saint Nick or a change of the season;
Since monster girls came it took a whole different meaning,
one which made all the more a holiday intriguing;
For there was one gift they loved most on a cold winter night,
the act of pure love and a womb painted white.

When the clock struck midnight did I rise up the stairs,
eager to go at it like a couple of march hares;
My heart thumped loudly as I approached the mound,
until my eyes discovered something quite round.

It was her bottom I saw hanging out in the air,
uncovered and wiggling without a worry to spare;
Yet before I could act on her buttocks’ temptation,
my body was stricken with a tingly sensation.

See dormice are special, so do take a seat,
as I explain how their bodies produce something sweet.

They wear a fragrance like ripe honeydew,
that’s quite addictive to all but a select few;
As if that wasn’t enough, I do offer this tip,
bask in the bathwater after one takes a dip.

A soak is potent enough to alter your moods,
to make a beast out of the prudest of prudes;
This ‘dormouse tea’ will work, I can attest,
but let’s return to the story before I digress.

I snuck behind her on the queen-sized bed,
clad in red boxers and a familiar cap on my head;
Yet the dormouse snoozed without a single thought,
displaying candy cane stockings (which were quite taut).

None could one blame me for what the heart seeks,
especially when that place was between her butt cheeks;
For ‘twas this place that my face nuzzled,
until she returned me a stare most puzzled.

I furrowed my brows in deep concentration,
to explain to her the strange situation;
‘I tripped here on my way to the bath’,
was a quote most likely to invoke her wrath;
Yet before I could muster an excuse to pull,
she laid her face down onto a pillow laden with drool.

Paying no mind she gave her bottom a wiggle,
grinding upon my nose with a cheeky giggle;
“What a silly place to rest your head,
wouldn’t it be warmer with me in the bed?”

With her scent in my nostrils, my horses reared,
giving her nethers a deep kissing until something phallic appeared;
But ‘twas not a cane that emerged from my boxers,
but her favorite knob and pair of door knockers.

The mouse braced herself on quivering knees,
giving the love nub a few licks never ceased to please;
She spoke not a word as I commenced my work,
taking hold of her petite hips and giving them a jerk;
She moaned with each thrust into her warm dormouse hole,
as I became absorbed into the holiday role.

Merry Christmas to all, in spirit of St. Nick,
reminding you to give your waifu the dick.