But then he spotted the feather stuck to one drop of honey. A soft and iridescent feather. A Muse's feather. Friday's feather.As he cleaned his coffin... he made a decision. If the ladies were going to use his room for trysts, he was going to have to punish them. Actually, he should punish the knights too, but that didn't turn him on.When he finished oiling the top of his bed, he took the offending feather and went to find Friday. He finally found her alone in the kitchen, counting the giant cans. Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned in for a kiss. Soon it was apparent there was a tongue battle for reign, with Santa enveloping Rachyl in his arms while his mouth and snowy white beard enfolded hers.As they continued their duel, Rachyl leisurely maneuvered her left hand down between them, so it nestled in Santa's lap. Slowly and deliberately, she unbuckled his shimmering silver belt buckle, released the trouser hook holding the top closed, and unbuttoned the breach gaining access to his. More

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