Used to believe in Santa Claus
Not so long ago;
Used to think on Christmas Eve
It simply had to snow

Back then I'd love when Uncle Mike
Would don his Santa cap
And by the tree would tickle me,
Giggling in his lap

But now I'm so much older,
In fact I'll be twelve soon
And sitting now in Uncle's lap
Is not so much a boon

Sure we had our dinner
As always, Christmas Eve,
But now my mother's brother
Has made me less naive

The grown-ups did their drinking
All full of Yuletide cheer,
And I'm once more in Uncle's lap,
When something prods my rear!

The room is dark but for of course
The twinkling Christmas lights;
So no one seems to notice as he
Draws down my red tights

The worst is covered by, thank God,
My skirt of festive tartan:
I fear my squealed and hissed protests,
His efforts only hearten!

All hope is lost at last, oh dear
, Of halting Uncle's stunt
The moment his big finger slides
Within my hairless cunt

And while the rest sing "Silent Night,"
And Uncle even hums,
I daren't make a sound because
My clit, with thumb, he strums!

I'm sure the loss of innocence
Will soon make my heart ache,
But now I cannot think of that
As with first cum I quake.

For now I just don't mind so much,
For there comes this yummy feeling:
A jangling joy rings through my crotch
Like Christmas bells a-pealing!