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...

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