Ask The Slut: HO, HO, HO?
Filed under: Ask The Slut - December 20, 2007 @ 8:19 am
Dear Slut,
Why is that women have a thing for Santa? There’s an episode of “Friends” where Monica wanted Chandler to wear a Santa costume in bed, and also there’s the movie “Bad Santa” where a girl bartender had a huge crush on the Bad Santa.
Curious Elf
Dear Elf,
When I first received this question, I thought what the hell is he talking about? I don’t know of any women who have a Santa fetish (I did meet someone at a party the other night who has a Buddhist monk fetish and I really really hope she drops me a line so I can explore that more with her and write a post about it. Also I was extremely attracted to her).
Anyway, back to Santa. I started poking around online and came across this post from Flirty Kitty. An excerpt:
I was thinking she could go to the mall in a very short skirt, a see through black top with a black bra beneath, opaque tights and sexy shoes. She could plant herself in a strategic position across from Santa outside the Winter Wonderland. Hopefully, he would notice her next to the cute woodland creatures, become overcome with desire, and discard the small child in his lap to pull her into the Santa Village.
Yes Elf, you can’t get much more fantasy than Santa. He fulfills the daddy role, the beard, the presents, he’s obviously a nice guy who’s a giver. He also breaks into your house which is totally appealing for women who are into mysterious strangers having their way with them - you know, Christmas rape. And speaking of taboo, that’s another appealing thing about it - being with someone who is good and innocent, like all the priest and nun fantasies. AND he’s a cult celebrity.
In other news, there an article was just posted about a woman who groped Santa.
“The security officer at the mall said Santa Claus has been sexually assaulted,” Michael said.
“I don’t know what the deal was. It was just bizarre,” the mall Santa told a reporter.
Obviously he doesn’t read The Beautiful Kind.
And hey, it looks like Santa has some fetishes of his own…
Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? I am. Drop me a line at love [at] thebeautifulkind . com


Dear Slut,
Dear Slut,
Dear Cunt, (fine, that works too)
I would say there are three main ways to get a woman off with your tongue on her clit (techniques like spelling out the Ten Commandments are too gimicky):
I have always enjoyed giving head and can generally get most girls to grab my hair and pull me up telling me they want to cum with a cock in them next, which to me is a sign of a job well done.
We are open enough that we have discussed it and she has told me that she has been masturbating since the age of five (having a medical background I am familiar with other cases of this, it worries parents to no end) and learnt to do it by rubbing against her blanket rather than playing with fingers. This is also her current technique.
Batman - Nah, even though he has a good costume, is bisexual (he’s totally doing Robin AND that butler), is loaded and has a cave.
Mr. Fantastic from Fantastic Four - He can stretch any body part, which has intriguing possibilities, but can you imagine this guy fisting you?!
Wolverine - A mutant, crazy animalistic badass who has the ability to heal from any wound quickly - I guess that means I don’t have to worry about giving him STDs (though he might give me rabies). I should probably stay away from him when I’m on the rag - he seems rather bloodthirsty.
Dear Slut,
Dear Slut,
1. Naturally I’ve tried both scenarios you’ve described, and I’m going to have to go with option B. Once I was swinging with this couple, and I was not into the dude at all - bad tattoos, a sport-o, average cock, not smart. He wasn’t eloquent with his tongue, but omigosh he was good at pussy licking. His wife suggested, “Take her to The Chair, honey,” so he carried me over to this generic easy chair in their living room, sat down in it and plopped me on top of him. I rode him hard, and I’m not sure what it was about The Chair or the dude, but it was amazing, and I simultaneously orgasmed with this guy I wasn’t even attracted to. Who knew?

Dear Slut,
Dear Slut,
Dear Slut,
But as I browse this site, I can’t help but be amused at seeing photos of these seedy night joints in the harsh light of day. They look like clubhouses boys cobbled together using cardboard boxes and neon lighting from Spencer’s. Check out the
Dear Slut,
Dear Slut,
Dear Slut,