Lisa wasn't a big fan of Christmas. Her surname, Toe, meant the seasonal Miss L. Toe jokes had plagued her for years. She had toyed with the idea of using her middle name instead, but Camilla Toe hadn't seemed like much of an improvement. Talking about the cross she had to bear wasn't something Lisa usually did, but it was Christmas Eve, and she felt a little conversation might lift her spirits.

"I think I'll just stay in bed and practice touch typing on my clit," Lisa said without thinking when a man asked her about her plans for the festive break whilst waiting for the bus.

Chris had decided to speak to Lisa to take his mind off the long wait he faced to get home, although he hadn't expected to find himself in the company of someone with whom he had so much in common.

"I'm Lisa, Lisa Toe, or Miss L. Toe, as the knobheads say when they think they're the first to tell the joke," Lisa said, hoping she'd found someone who wasn't a complete plonker to talk to.

"My name's Chris Mastry, so when I say I feel your pain, I really do, and I'm not just searching for a way to get a festive fuck," Chris said honestly.

"Chris Mastry and Miss L. Toe? You couldn't make that up," Lisa said with a giggle, which was mostly caused by picturing the fuck she'd just heard about.

When Chris realised a fuck had been mentioned, he knew it was a chance to come clean. He also wondered if Lisa also had issues that went beyond her name, as he did.

Chris flashed his knob at Lisa as he spoke passionately. "Green needles growing around my knob are something I've got used to. If others have a problem with that, they're the ones who need to take a look at themselves, not me," Chris said, looking into Lisa's eyes.

Lisa said nothing; she just lifted her skirt and let Chris see the greenery around her lady bits instead. Lisa had shown her hole to Holly Bush once at a self-help group meeting, but letting Chris look at her downstairs patch felt exhilarating.

Having shown Chris her greenery and copped a look at his, Lisa felt it was obvious the two of them needed to spend Christmas together. Shopping? No time for that; there was fucking to be done, and if that meant Spam and beans for as long as was necessary, so be it.

By the time the bus came, the odds of a couple of its would-be passengers doing so together had shortened dramatically. Lisa and Chris almost broke into a trot for the last few hundred metres of the journey from the bus stop to their destination.

As soon as Lisa opened the door to her flat, Chris felt comfortable immediately. Admittedly, Lisa had stuck her tits in his face whilst still holding her keys, but it was more than that; her home had an air of calm about it, although the same could not be said about Lisa, who had a thousand voices in her head telling her what she wanted to be done to her and to do.

Lisa invited Chris to sit on the sofa as she made her way to the kitchen to fetch drinks.

"Santa Claus? What on earth are you doing stuck halfway through my skylight with your trousers down and my pants hung on the end of your knob?"

Santa realised this was a fair question but decided to steer the subject elsewhere.

"And who might you be?" he asked.

"Aren't you supposed to fucking know?" Lisa said, rather hoping Santa could keep this short so she could get on with her Christmas fuck.

Lisa explained that she was Miss L. Toe, and she'd got Chris Mastry waiting to fuck her senseless in the room on the other side of the kitchen door.

Despite being stuck in the skylight with his arse hanging out, Santa checked his laptop, and it was just as he had thought. It was two of his Platinum Club members who had met up for a Christmas screw.

"Miss L. Toe and Chris Mastry getting together for a fuck or two on Christmas day? How fucking wonderful is that?" Santa said as Lisa pulled hard on his knob, and he crashed to the floor, having been freed from the skylight by Lisa's fierce tug.

Luckily, Santa was soon on his way, which meant the big man could make sure everyone got excited on Christmas morning and began their day with a lick of something tasty from inside a stocking to start the day.

Lisa wasted no time once the wedging issue had been sorted, and she and Chris were soon rubbing leaves and sharing sap excitedly.

Everything went spectacularly well, and even when Chris misread the script and started to suck on the clematis in Lisa's garden, Lisa just steered him to where he needed to be. She had a wonderful, noisy, and rather talkative climax.

"Oh, Chris Mastry, Oh, Chris Mastry, how tasty is your cute trunk?" Lisa cried with joy as she feasted on it.

"With you, under the Miss L. Toe," Chris replied, as he went all Justin Bieber and sent Lisa into ecstasy with his tuneful reply.

Chris and Lisa had a fucking fantastic Christmas that lasted well into the new year. They hope yours does as well.