Merry Christmas!-It Ain’t Santa

Frankie studied the steeply sloped roof as she tried to decide if she was really going to go through with her plan.

It was risky, she could go to the trouble of coming down Grant’s chimney stark naked and he could still reject her. It had been thirteen days and roughly six hours since he’d broken up with her and she’d missed him every minute of it.

Frankie knew he still loved her; he just had to! She’d thought about a way to throw herself naked at his feet but the only surefire way to make sure she made it in the door was to go down the chimney.

He’d ignored every one of her phone calls and the day she’d knocked on his door, Grant hadn’t responded at all. With her chin stiffened in resolve, Frankie climbed the tree next to the house and then carefully walked up the roof to the big chimney.

Once there she stripped completely and left her clothes neatly folded next to the large brick structure. She shivered slightly in the wind then quickly climbed over the edge of the chimney before she lost her nerve and began her descent.

* * *

Grant was making himself a salad to go with his solitary steak dinner when he heard a strange noise from the living room. Frowning, he wiped his hands on a hand towel and walked toward the sound. He heard it again… a rustling sound and a groan followed by a decidedly feminine sneeze. “What on earth?” he said as he approached the fireplace where the sound seemed to originate from.

“Damn it!” a very familiar voice sounded from behind the mantel.

“Frankie?” he asked incredulously.

“Grant? Is that you?” she asked with an almost desperate quality to her voice.

“Who else would it be? This is my house. Where are you?” he asked with a frown.

“In the chimney,” she said with a loud sigh.

“Why on God’s green earth are you in my chimney?” he asked.

“It’s a long story I’d rather not go into at the moment,” Frankie said primly.

“Come down from there immediately,” Grant said sternly.

“I can’t!” she wailed.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I mean I can’t!” Frankie yelled and then in a much softer voice she said, “I’m stuck.”

“How did you get in there?” he asked, alarmed as he got down to try to look up into the murky darkness of his chimney flue.

A few feet above his head he saw one soot-covered toe. “Why on earth would you climb down my chimney barefooted?” Grant had to pause when he considered the words he’d just uttered; it said a lot about Frankie that he didn’t just ask why she’d climbed down his chimney.

“Ummmm… well… you see, I just wanted… ummm…” Frankie’s words stuttered lamely to a halt.

He shook his head; one thing was certain, he and Frankie were going to have a long overdue conversation when he got her out of there. This time he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Grant reached up and managed to catch a hold of her foot and gave an experimental tug.

Frankie’s response was immediate. “Owwwww! Grant, don’t pull, it hurts!”

After a few more tugs with similar cries of pain and no movement, Grant sighed. “I’m going to have to call the fire department,” he told her.

“What? No, Grant, you can’t!” she cried in an obvious panic.

“Why not? I’m sure you won’t be the first person they’ve pulled from a chimney,” he assured her though he was certain this wasn’t a regular occurrence, at least not in real life.

“You really can’t call the fire department, Grant,” she said desperately.

“Why not?”

“Because… you just can’t… that’s all,” she snapped.

“Frances, what aren’t you telling me?” he asked, trying to prepare himself.

“Nothing,” Frankie said sullenly.

“Frances Jean Willard, answer my question!” Grant barked.

“Fine! I’m naked, okay? You can’t call the fire department because I’m naked!” she yelled.

Grant fell back on his rear with a thud on the tiled hearth; of all the things she could have said, that was the least expected. “Naked?”

“Naked,” she affirmed.

He was going to kill her! Grant shook his head as he climbed up from the floor to find his phone; if he didn’t love her so much he’d wring her fool neck.

She was the nuttiest woman he’d ever known and had a penchant for disaster. He sighed then gave a resigned little half smile as the phone began ringing; at least Frankie kept life interesting.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

* * *

“Owwiee… owwiee!” Frankie cried as the big fireman began pulling her the rest of the way out of the tight confines of the chimney.

Her skin had been scraped and scratched by the rough bricks the entire way and she wasn’t sure she still had a left nipple.

“Almost there, honey, I’ve got you,” the fireman said as he pulled her out the top of the chimney and over the edge into his waiting arms.

Frankie had never been so happy to see another human being in her life, even if she was stark naked.

Thankfully he quickly wrapped her in a big blanket before handing her off to another fireman at the edge of the roof. She closed her eyes as she was lowered from the roof into the waiting arms of the fireman on the ground.

She felt her blanket flapping open in the wind, giving an eyeful to all the neighbors and anyone else standing around to watch the show.

Frankie was beyond caring; this was the single most humiliating moment of her life. Nothing was working out like she planned and Grant would probably never speak to her again.

It was just awful. “I just want my clothes so I can go home,” she said miserably to herself

“I’m not sure what happened to your clothes, ma’am,” the young fireman wrapping her back up in the blanket told her.

“It’s a windy day so they must have blown off the roof. But you need to be checked out by EMS before you can leave. You have some pretty nasty scrapes on your… er…”

Frankie blushed anew, realizing he’d heard her; with a weary nod she allowed herself to be led to the waiting ambulance. Dignity was obviously a thing of the past.

A warm hand caught her by the shoulder as she heard Grant’s deep voice from just behind her. “I’ll see she gets checked out.”

“No problem,” the fireman said, giving Frankie into Grant’s keeping without argument.

Frankie gasped when he turned her to face him and tucked the blanket more securely around her before scooping her up in his arms.

“I can walk, Grant!” she protested loudly.

“Hush, Frankie,” was all he said as he proceeded to carry her to the waiting ambulance.

She held her tongue as it was obvious this wasn’t an argument she would win.

Grant didn’t say a word as he carried her inside the large vehicle and sat her on the cot for the paramedic to check her out. Frankie blushed as the medic thoroughly checked out her naked body under Grant’s scrutiny.

She couldn’t help but squirm under his serious regard. Finally the paramedic straightened with an understanding smile. “It’s all superficial damage; we just need to get these scrapes cleaned up and you’ll be good to go.”

“If that’s the case, then I can take her in the house and clean her up and treat the scrapes myself,” Grant told the medic.

The paramedic looked at Frankie questioningly. “Is that okay with you, ma’am?”

She nodded, suddenly wanting away from everyone who knew what an idiot she’d been, climbing down Grant’s chimney.

Before she could protest, Grant picked her up again. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, baby.”

Frankie sniffled at his tender words; no way could Grant want her back after the stunt she’d pulled but she allowed herself to pretend everything would be all right, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

She didn’t open them again until Grant set her on her feet in front of the shower in his bathroom. He pulled the blanket from her body and frowned down at her; shaking his head, he turned on the shower and herded her inside.

“I’m sorry, Grant… I…”

“We’ll talk about it later, Frankie, right now I just want to get you cleaned up and get those scrapes treated. You really did a number on yourself this time,” he told her; she watched warily as he stripped and stepped into the shower with her.


“Be quiet, Frances,” Grant said warningly. She obeyed and closed her mouth as he guided her under the warmth of the spray then soaped her hair. Frankie groaned with pleasure at the feel of his fingers massaging her scalp as he washed the soot and lord knows what else out of her hair.

She’d seen some nasty stuff in that chimney before she got in so far that it was too dark to see. Frankie shuddered as she thought about the crusty yet gooey substance she’d felt squish between her fingers and toes.

She sighed and gave herself completely over to Grant as he finished her hair and moved on to gently wash the filth from her body. By the time he was finished she was as limp as a noodle.

He wrapped her in a big fluffy towel and then sat her on top of the vanity. She blushed when he pulled the towel from around her and dropped it to the floor so he could inspect each and every scrape.

“Look what you’ve done to yourself,” he said with a shake of his head, moving to a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of alcohol, Neosporin, and Band-Aids.

She made a face at the alcohol, knowing it was gonna sting like the dickens. Frankie decided to brave it all stoically; she’d gotten herself into this mess and she could deal with the results like an adult.

Thankfully Grant made short work of swabbing each skinned knee then coating it with the pain-relieving Neosporin before placing a loose bandage over it. The ones on her back, side, and elbows weren’t really that bad either, but when he got to her poor abused nipple, Frankie lost all sense of decorum. “Ooooouuccch!!! Stop, Grant, that burns… it burns!” she yelled, trying to jerk herself away.

Grant held her firmly. “Frankie, I know it hurts but this has to be done.” She pouted as he finished swabbing the fiery liquid over her poor defenseless nipple, then as the air cooled around her abraded flesh, the nipple in question suddenly tightened into a hard swollen little bud. By the time he began applying the soothing ointment, Frankie’s groan was one of intense pleasure follow by a heated rush of moisture between her legs.

Frankie shifted her legs nervously, hoping he wouldn’t notice her arousal. “Now that’s taken care of, young lady, I think you and I have a few things to discuss,” Grant said firmly, tilting her chin so she had to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. He quirked a brow and waited.

Soon she couldn’t help but fill the lengthening silence; she hated silence when Grant was displeased. “I just missed you so bad. I had to do something, anything to get you back. I love you, Grant.”

“You couldn’t have knocked on the door?” he asked incredulously.

“You broke up with me. You haven’t been taking my calls and you didn’t answer the door when I came by to talk to you.”

“Frankie, I’ve been out of town on business, I just got back yesterday.”

“Oh… why didn’t you take my calls?” she asked, an enchanting little quiver in her lower lip.

“You never called when I could answer and since you never left a message I figured the ball was still in your court,” Grant told her simply.

“But… you broke up with me…” Frankie said lamely.

“No, ma’am, I did not,” he said firmly.

“Yes, you did,” she said, crossing her arms with a frown.

“No, Frances. I told you things could not continue the way they were with you going from one hare-brained scheme to another without consequence. When I told you the consequence I had in mind you simply stalked out the door,” Grant reminded her.

“Well, you can’t…” She squirmed in her place on the vanity. It was difficult to believe they were having this discussion with them both stark naked, her on the bathroom counter and Grant standing before her totally confident in his nudity.

Talk about leaving a girl vulnerable. Again that infernal brow of his rose in askance.

Frankie gave a little feminine growl and blew a curl out of her face. “You can’t spank me… I’m an adult.”

“Mmmmm,” he said, then he appeared to come to a decision and with a nod he helped her down from the counter.

“Let me get you something to wear home.”

“Wait. Don’t you still love me?” Frankie asked, barely daring to breathe as she waited for the answer.

“Yes, Frankie, I love you with everything in me but if you won’t agree to accept my discipline it doesn’t matter because I refuse to go on with no recourse available to me for your behavior,” he said and she watched with dismay as he pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and handed them to her before leaving the bathroom.

The minute he disappeared beyond the door, Frankie knew she’d take a thousand spankings to keep him in her life. He was right, she did have a lot of hare-brained schemes and no self-discipline to speak of; she needed what he had to offer.

Plus she loved him more than life. She was going to have to man up and take her medicine.

Frankie ran from the bathroom stark naked, leaving the clothes discarded on the bathroom floor. “Grant, wait! Ooommf!”

She ran right into him where he waited just outside the door. “I knew you’d make the right decision, baby,” he said with a smile, leaning down to kiss her deeply.

Frankie groaned and knotted her fingers in his shirt. “Oh, Grant.”

He pulled away with a regretful sigh. “First things first.”

Then she found herself caught firmly by the arm and pulled to the bed where Grant sat down and pulled her immediately face down across his lap.

“Wait, Grant! I’m hurt!” she cried. A warm hand glided across her upturned bottom.

“Your ass managed to escape from the fireplace completely unscathed.”

“But… but…” A sharp slap stole her breath as a stinging heat began to fill her left bottom cheek.

To her great dismay his hand fell three more times just as hard in the exact same spot before moving over to the opposite cheek. Grant covered every inch of her wriggling bottom before he started to speak. “You will never do something so ridiculously dangerous again, young lady. If you put yourself in harm’s way like this again, you will get a taste of my belt. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!” she wailed as she felt herself tipped even further over his leg and his hard hand began to pepper the tender crease of her bottom.

“Owwwie! Oooohhh, Grant, I’ll be good! I promise!” Her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears as his hand continued to fall relentlessly until suddenly Frankie gave herself over to the burning pain in her bottom and collapsed sobbing over his lap.

She didn’t even realize the spanking was over until she found herself straddling his lap and crying into his chest. “It’s all forgiven, baby. You’ll do better from now on, won’t you, Frances?” he asked, his big hands cupping her hot bottom.

She sniffled into his throat, pressing a soft kiss against it. “Yes, sir.” Frankie wondered how to tell him she was dripping with arousal; the spanking had hurt but it also made her hot for her dominant man.

When two of his fingers sank into her wet heat she groaned, happy he seemed to know how badly she needed him now.

“What a naughty girl I have on my hands,” Grant said softly as he began to nibble on her neck as his fingers worked in and out of her grasping sheath.

The feel of his hard cock pressing against her belly made her ache for his possession. She moaned in delight when he simply lifted her and impaled her on his waiting cock. He worked her up and down his throbbing organ with his hands tightly squeezing her sore bottom.

Somehow the pain seemed to increase her pleasure exponentially. It only took about five hard deep thrusts before she tightened around him, screaming his name as she came hard.

He stilled inside her as her inner muscles clamped down on his cock, then before she could fully recover he was working her up and down his shaft again.

Frankie was shocked at how quickly she was building back up to a second orgasm.

Then he began hammering up into her hard and fast as he slammed her body up and down to meet every thrust.

Frankie could only cry her pleasure as he worked her body in time with his.

Grant followed her quickly this time, coming deep inside her with one final lunge.

He held her tight against his chest, lying back on the bed with her sprawled over him. “I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too,” she murmured, placing a kiss in the hollow of his throat.

“Please tell me what made you think of climbing down my chimney naked,” he said, still trying to understand the thought process behind it.

“Well, I figured it worked for Santa,” she said rather primly.

“Well, Santa doesn’t come down the chimney naked.”

“Well no but…”

“Face it baby, you ain’t Santa!”

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