Archive-name: Working/santalap.txt
Archive-author: Stephanie M. Clarkson  (c) 1993
Archive-title: Santa's Lap


        Well, as of Christmas I'm back on unemployment again.  For the
last six weeks I've been working as a photographer in the Santa's House
at the local mall.  While the 16 year old elves giggled and were 
gawked at by the leering 40-ish bachelor types, and Santa sat in his
comfy chair, smiling, nodding, and ignoring the brats in his lap, I
stood all day, dealt with parents who expected high art in a free
photo, and basically did all the work in the place.  For six bucks an
hour.  Out of the entire month and a half, only one day made it worth
my while.

        The mall manager had thought it would be a cute idea to dress
me up as Mrs. Claus, which meant my long brown hair had to me knotted
up under a large poof of fake gray hair.  One of the stores donated a
large, red, fleece gown-thing, which was sticky and hot in the well-
heated mall.  Add the screaming of adults and children alike in any
suburban mall on Christmas Eve, and I was NOT in any sort of good mood.

        After a very long day, five o'clock came, closing the mall and
bringing blissful silence in its wake.  The elves took off in a flash,
giggling about parties and such.  My day was hardly over, because all
the final accounting and closing had to be done so some poor workmen
could come in on Christmas day and dismantle the little house structure.
I closed the "in" door as Craig, our Santa, closed the "out" door.  He's
a nice enough person, but when your feet hurt as much as mine did, it's
hard to be civil to a person who's job description started out with
"Sit in chair..."

        "I am NOT doing this again next year," he said, pulling off the
beard to reveal a plain, but not unattractive face.  "Think in the age
of women's equality Mrs. Claus could deal with the squalling brats and 
Santa could take pictures?"

        "Only if we get cute little male elves next year, too," I 
managed to grin.  I started to count the till, anticipating the drive
home, when I'd be seated.  Craig moved behind me, to go into our little
change-closet, or so I thought until I felt welcome hands start to knead
the tight spot on the back of my neck.  I stopped counting and closed
my eyes, straightening my neck so he could do the most good.  His hands
moved up my neck to the bottom of my hair.

        "I take it back," he said.  "If you get this stiff from standing
and taking pictures, then that's another job I don't want.  Think they'd
hire me as an elf?"

        "Well," I said, "You're cute enough, but I don't think you're
young enough."  His hands felt great as they moved back down my neck,
changing from a kneading to a soft stroking as they headed towards
the small of my back.  Suddenly his hands were on my hips, and I felt
him move closer to me, pressing himself against my back.

        "Well, I've been thinking that _you're_ cute enough to be a
elf," he said, his voice suddenly husky.  His lips brushed against my
ear, and his teeth softly nibbled my earlobe, sending shivers all down
my side.

        "Craig, I-" I started to protest, silenced as his tongue
deftly probed my ear.  His hands slid forward along my hips, then slowly
up my front to my breasts.  He rubbed them through the fleecy material,
and I decided to just sink back against him.

        "I've wanted you for weeks," he whispered into my ear, his hot
breath arousing me even more.  "I don't think I could have forgiven 
myself if I'd let this opportunity pass me by."

        I turned around suddenly, and pressed my body against his,
bringing my lips up to meet his, parting slightly to welcome his tongue
into my mouth.  His hands moved down to my ass, crushing me against
him.  Even through the padding he wore, and the heavy material of our
costumes I could feel him, hard against me.

        He broke our embrace and took my hand, leading me around the
camera equipment over to the gilt-covered chair he'd been working in.
"I think you're one little girl Santa will be bringing a present to,"
he smiled, starting to unbutton my robe.  

        I started to reciprocate, undoing the belt that held his padding
in place.  "I'll bet this is one Santa who only cums for naughty girls,
though," I smiled, letting the belt drop.  He grinned back at me, and
leaned forward kiss me again, deeply.  Soon we were both naked, and 
he lowered himself to the floor, pulling me after him.

        He was well built under the padding; a touch overweight, but I
like my men that way.  As promised by the bulge I'd felt earlier he was
very well hung.  I stroked his huge cock, estimating it to be a good
eight inches.  "Sit in the chair," I said, wanting to take him in my
mouth.  He moved up to the familiar seat, and I bent my head down over
him.  I wasn't going to be able to take all of him in my mouth at one
time, much to my disappointment.  I settled for taking just his large
pink head into my mouth, pulling back with a strong sucking motion.
He was cut, and clean, and I gladly started to take as much of him
into my mouth as I could, using just suction to pull myself down.  His
hands gently rested on the back of my head, exciting me even more.
I took all I could into me, sliding him to the back of my throat and
gently squeezing his balls as he hit the end.  I released both the 
suction and his balls, lightly dragging my teeth back along his shaft
as I withdrew.  Then I began the step by step process of slowly bobbing
my head back down over him, taking him into the back of my mouth and
squeezing his balls.  His hands started to press down on my head as
I went, but I pushed back, keeping this blow job at my own pace.
Then I pulled off of him, and kissed the pre-cum off his tip, and 
smiled up at him.  Firmly grasping the base of his rock hard dick, I
began to move my hand up and down, pleasuring the whole length of it 
the way I hadn't been able to with my mouth.  I brushed my hair out
of my face and lowered my lips to his balls, licking the underside
of them and very carefully taking one into my mouth.  I gently rolled
it around on my tongue, sucking it back and forth at the same time,
matching the sucking to the strokes my hand was making on his cock.
I switched balls, licking the underside of his dick on the way over.
I tightened my grip on his stick, speeding up the strokes a little.
His hips started to press up towards me in time with my strokes.

        "Hold on a sec," he said, suddenly pushing me back a bit.  I
saw a tiny bit of white fluid on his gorgeous pink head, and looked
up at him.  He stood up.  "Hold that position," he said, getting off
the chair.  He went around behind me, and I turned my head to see 
him go to the change-room.  A moment later he came out with a condom.
When he unrolled it over his penis, I laughed.  "Like it?" he said,
a huge grin on his face.  "I thought the candy cane stripes were 
so fitting."

        I moved up to the chair, leaning on the soft padding.  A
moment later I felt his hands on my hips, and the tip of his cock
pressed against the lips of my cunt.  He slid in, a little at a 
time, letting me get used to him inside me before he pulled out and
began to fuck me in earnest.  I was glad of the position, because
I don't think I could have taken him in any other.  The condom might
have been silly, but the feel of his huge cock in me was nothing to
laugh about.  He rammed into me harder and harder, and I knew it couldn't
be long before he would cum.  His hands gripped my hips harder, and 
I thrust back against him, wriggling to take even more.  With a lunge
he went as far into me as he could and I felt his whole body stiffen
with his orgasm.  His hands eased on me a little, and I felt the 
slight pulses as his load pumped out.  After a moment he pulled away 
from me, and his cock was replaced by his hand, stroking my hard
clit.

        I felt his finger enter me, to get wet, and then he brought
it up to rub against me.  My own lubricants made me very slippery,
and his finger slid easily against my button, making my hips buck
up as waves of pleasure went through me.  Suddenly something else
entered me.  It wasn't flexible, like a finger, but as it slid back 
out of me I felt it press against my g-spot, and I gasped as it left
me.  I turned around to look at Craig, and he smiled and licked the
wet candy cane, a leftover from the box he'd given out to the kids.
He slid it into me again, leaving it in me, and he resumed playing 
with my clit.  The candy cane wiggled back and forth inside me, the
hooked end catching onto the shelf of my g-spot and pressing me 
close to orgasm.  It moved back and forth, faster and faster, as
Craig's finger flicked across my clit with a steady, intense pressure.
I fought the orgasm, trying to prolong the exquisite pleasure, but 
it was inevitable and I pushed my face into the seat cushion, trying
to muffle myself as I moaned and came.

        It was, to put it bluntly, a wonderful way to relieve the
stress built up by weeks of noisy kids and parents during this mass-
market season of love and sharing.  And while I may be once again 
out of work, I _do_ have a date for New Year's.

Stephanie...
--