I guess thatmeant that in my eyes she was edible.I carefully took a step around her, intentionally moving my foot farinward of what felt natural. I wobbled, but kept my balance."Careful," said Julia."It's alright." God, that voice. No way it could be mine. I fought downthe impulse to search the room for the intruder.I took a few more steps until I was in front of the mirror. Walkingcreated a variety of new sensations. With each step my pussy lipsrubbed together, sending up a little thrill of pleasure from myclitoris. And new parts of my body swayed and jiggled, especially mychest.The woman in the mirror was beautiful and unfamiliar, so unfamiliarthat I impulsively looked over my shoulder to see if someone else wasin the room.But no, that was me standing there. I ran my hands over my body, alongmy narrow waist, out over the wide curve of my hips, back onto the twinglobes my butt. It was so much bigger now relative to the rest of me.It felt ungainly. But I could change that later, and. But I never made it. I would be asleep on the sofa when he arrived. I could swear that in my dreams I could hear hooves on the roof and jingle bells in our tiny living room. I felt a hairy kiss on my cheek that night.The next morning, I woke to find both a Christmas and birthday gift from Santa. It was always something I really wanted or needed. It was also something my poor parents could not afford.This stymied my mom and dad. They had never really believed in Santa, but they came to accept that someone was being Santa to me each Christmas morning.As I got older, all my friends stopped believing in Santa, but not me. I kept my belief secret from my friends. They would just tease me and spoil my faith.When I was eleven, I went through puberty. My mother sat me down and spelled out the “Facts of Life”. I learned how babies were made. The only man I wanted to be my mate was Santa.While other girls were dating boys, I kept to myself, making toys. I would fantasize about the big man.
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