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An Excerpt From: Hot For
Santa
© Copyright Lacey
Alexander, 2003.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's
Cave, Inc.
“Would
you like to sit on Santa’s lap, little girl?”
Would
I ever! thought Amy Finnegan.
But,
of course, he wasn’t talking to her. Forcing a smile, she reached up
to straighten her green elf hat, then took the
hand of the child in question. Leading the little blonde girl to
Santa’s throne-like chair, situated in the middle of the mall, she watched
the child climb onto one red-clad thigh.
Oh,
to be able to lower her ass onto that sexy thigh. She wanted
to moan at the mere thought. Her breasts tingled against her elf
costume just imagining that the man with the fake white beard had summoned her.
She
bit her lip, envisioning what it would be like if the two of them were
alone here, if her sexy Santa invited her to sit on his lap, and if she
chose to straddle him in his big red chair instead. Her pussy went
damp when she pictured him running his hands up under her little green
dress, all the way to her hips to discover she hadn’t worn any
panties.
Of
course, she had worn panties, every single day they’d worked
together, but since everything else about the vision was pure fantasy, why
not go all the way?
When
Santa lifted her dress in front, spying her bare slit, all open and ready
for him, he’d immediately reach into those fur-trimmed pants of his, pull
out his hard cock, and watch as she lowered her hungry little cunt down on it, taking it deep inside.
“You
know what?” Santa’s deep voice boomed.
Amy
flinched as she was yanked from her fantasy, only to find he was still
addressing the little girl.
“You’re
the very last child to tell me what she wants for Christmas this year
before I hop in my sleigh tonight and start delivering toys.”
The
tow-headed girl looked uncertain. “Will you have time to make mine?”
Santa
smiled. “Of course I will, with the help of my trusty elf,
Amy.” He pointed in her direction. “She’s my favorite little
helper.” He sent her a quick wink, and dear God, even that
made her pussy pulse.
After
convincing the little girl she’d get everything on her list, he lowered her
to the floor, told her to be good, and—flashing a grin that looked sexy as
hell even behind his snowy beard—told her not to forget the cookies, since
he’d need a snack by the time he got to her house.
As
the child ran off to her waiting mother, Amy saw him glance to the large,
ornate clock suspended from the mall’s ceiling. Pushing to his booted
feet, he took a few steps toward her. When he spoke, it came out a
little less hale and hearty than his Santa voice, but the warm tenor of his
tone still heated her up inside. “Well, that’s the last one.
Looks like I can hang up my beard for good.”
She
tried to sound just as cheerful. “And I can take off my pointy elf
shoes for the last time.”
She
knew she should be happy about that, but she wasn’t. She’d never
dreamed she could lust so hard for a man in a Santa suit, but now that it
was Christmas Eve and their charity work was drawing to a close, a heavy
shroud of disappointment settled over her. She’d looked forward to
seeing him every day after work for the few hours they did the Santa gig
together in the evening. And during the last month, Saturdays and
Sundays had become her very favorite days of the week, even if it meant elf
detail from ten to ten. Now, as the final last-minute shoppers dashed
past and storekeepers began to lower their steel link doors, she couldn’t
help thinking how boring her nights would seem from this point on, without
even the hope he would make a move on her. It was going to be
a long, cold winter.
CLOSE WINDOW
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