Since it is the last Saturday before Christmas, I thought I'd do something sassy with Santa for my readers. Of course, for those who are quite literal, I am referring to something sexy and fun with a pretend Santa. *wink.* And, as usual, audiences of 18+ ONLY please. Thank you!!
Phoebe grabbed her coat and headed to the back door. If she was quick enough, she could escape before her boss caught up to her. She didn't want to work overtime and she definitely didn't want to be "Santa's Helper" for the employee party. It went the same way every year. The kids had their turn with Santa and got a little gift, then went to the smaller dance hall where a team of babysitters waited to fill them with cake, candy and soda so the adults could drink and party. Phoebe loved the first part, spending time handing out gifts to the children. It was the adults-only part that she was trying to avoid.
"Phoebe!" Mr. Dayton ran after her huffing and puffing. He held up a finger as she stood there staring at him. He bent over, trying to catch his breath. "I need...your help...with the...party."
"Mr.Dayton, I'm really tired. I just wanted to get home and get out of this silly elf costume."
"You don't like it?" His breathing was more normal now. "It fits you so well and you look so..." He left the sentence dangling, waving his hand up and down in a "look at you" gesture. Phoebe couldn't stop the eye-roll.
She knew how she looked. She'd been hearing it all night. Unfortunately, it was from every married man in the building, including Mr. Dayton. Married men were a huge no-no for her. Their compliments felt more like propositions and she was nauseated even thinking about it. Their wives stood within a few feet of them and they showed no respect or remorse for their behavior. Ick. Plus, there was only one person she wanted and he was overseas right now.
"Please. I am paying double time for the next couple of hours." Mr. Dayton tried giving her a pleading puppy dog look. That didn't work with her, but the phrase "double-time" meant that she would have more than enough for next semester's tuition. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and said, "Fine."
Phoebe stood next to Santa's chair as the wives came up and sat on his lap for photos. Even a few guys plopped down, snuggling in the big guy's lap. She couldn't hide her laughter when one guy sat and sniffed Santa's neck, then whispered in his ear. Santa's eyes bulged and the flirty young man was promptly dumped on the floor.
"What about you little girl? Have you been naughty or nice?" Santa's voice was deep and raspy. She wondered who he was, behind the disguise. She knew he wasn't fat, because she'd glimpsed him stuffing his suit earlier. He was tall and broad, with beautiful blue eyes and dark hair that peeked out from under his white wig. She glared at him, but didn't answer. She tugged down her short striped skirt and pulled up her green bustier. Her feet were killing her and she constantly shifted while Santa did his bit.
"Little elf, why do you look so unhappy? It's Christmas." Santa was again trying to talk to her.
"Look, 'Santa'," Phoebe made air quotes when she said his name, "I'm not interested. I just want to be done here and go home."
"Hmmm. Well, elf Phoebe, you were on my nice list, but now I may just have to put you on the naughty side."
She looked at him in surprise. How the hell did he know her name? She looked into his eyes and tried to recognize the way they sparkled and the corners crinkled. He did look familiar, but she just couldn't place him. Was he an employee here at the hotel or just a rent-a-Santa?
"Sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas. I will give you anything you want, even if you've been naughty. In fact, naughty elves get the biggest present to unwrap."
Phoebe couldn't help it. The double entendres spewing from his mouth made her blush. She suddenly had an image come to mind. Rick. She'd been missing Rick ever seen his deployment two years ago. If she could have anything for Christmas, it would be her best friend and secret crush, Rick, holding her in his arms. But, he wasn't due home for two weeks. Just like Santa, Rick had beautiful blue eyes, was tall, dark and handsome. Damn she missed him. Melancholy came over her in a powerful wave, but she insisted on shaking it off. Instead, she'd play Santa's game. And give him something to remember.
Phoebe slipped over, standing between Santa's open legs. She twirled, knowing it would make the skirt flare out. Then, she plopped down hard on his lap, almost right on his crotch. She wriggled a bit, pretending to make herself comfortable, and adjusted her bustier, giving Santa a clear view down her cleavage. She tucked her head, hiding her wide smile at Santa's deep groan. If he wanted to play this game, she could too. No one else around them seemed to even take notice and the photographer had snapped her picture and was off at the bar already. It was just them.
"Santa, can I tell you what I really, really want for Christmas?" Phoebe made her voice low and sexy.
"Yes." That one word sounded strangled. She giggled.
"Well, there's this man that I adore. He's far from home and it has been really hard for me to be without him. I'd love for him to come home for Christmas so I can show him all the naughty things I've dreamt of doing to him."
Santa coughed and shifted in his chair, managing to move her slightly away from his crotch. His hand moved from the armrest to her knee. Phoebe giggled again. It was working.
"Do you think I'm naughty because I want to strip off my clothes and go to him with only a big red ribbon wrapped around my perky breasts and shaved pussy?"
This time, Santa went in to a mini coughing fit. Phoebe held on and waited. She was having fun and wasn't ready to stop just yet. She wiggled again, and this time her thigh brushed something very hard underneath his faux fur-lined coat. "Are you okay, Santa?" She smirked and twisted a piece of her dark blonde hair around her finger, feigning innocence.
"Um," Santa's voice wasn't deep this time and for a split second, Phoebe thought she recognized it. She shook her head. He cleared his throat, his voice deep once again as he said, "Elf Phoebe, in order to deliver this present to you, you'll have to tell me his name." Phoebe began to feel uncomfortable. She didn't want to tell this guy about Rick and she also noticed his hand had slipped up just under the edge of her skirt.
"I'd rather not Santa. He can't come home for a few more weeks."
Santa leaned in to her and whispered into her ear, "What if he came home early?"
Shivers ran up Phoebe's spine. She did know that voice. And that wandering hand had now made it's way under her skirt and to the top of her white garter stockings. He was tracing little circles on her upper thigh. She looked up at him and her breath hitched. She knew those eyes.
Santa pulled his fake mustache and beard down under his chin and smiled. "Merry Christmas Phoebe."
"Oh my..." before she could finish, Rick's mouth came down over hers and his arms crushed her to him. He kissed her hard, plundering her mouth as his hands gripped her tight.
Phoebe's body hummed and all rational thought left her. All she could think was, Merry Christmas Phoebe!
Hope you enjoyed!