White Hot Holidays 15: Santa's Helpers Page 2

  Dean was willing to risk having to throw himself in front of a reindeer stampede and use his body to block another escape, rather than being spotted by one of his many cousins or fraternity brothers walking through the mall dressed like an elf. Apparently wearing green velvet knickers over red-and-white-striped socks was acceptable if you were actually in Santa’s Wonderland, but not anywhere else in the mall.

  Marissa felt an upwelling of sadness in stark contrast to the incessantly cheery background music of Christmas carols piped through the mall’s sound system. An elf suit was okay in Santa’s Wonderland, but not anywhere else. How did Dean feel about her? Was she an okay friend in Santa’s Wonderland, but one he’d be embarrassed to be seen with anywhere else?

  The indecision was killing her. Carrying the fast food back to Santa’s Wonderland, she resolved to come right out and ask him. After all, if she didn’t like his answer, she didn’t have to see him after today.

  Marissa watched in wonder as Dean wolfed down his fries in what had to be a speed-eating record. Then turned his most charming smile on her. She was helpless to resist that smile, and he knew it. Giving in gracefully, she pushed her half-finished bag of fries across the counter to him.

  “Yes, you can have mine.”

  “Hey, I’m a growing elf!”

  “Uh-huh. Keep doubling up on the fries like that, and you’re going to be off the track team and onto the sumo wrestling team.”

  “Right. Because being seen in peppermint-striped socks and a green velvet elf suit isn’t enough humiliation. I want to compete in sporting events wearing a diaper.”

  “Actually, it’s called a mawashi. It’s a superwide belt.”

  Dean blinked at her. “Don’t tell me after all these weeks trying to talk to you about football, baseball or any other normal sport, I finally find one you follow, and it’s sumo wrestling?”

  She laughed.

  “No, silly. I had a semester of Japanese fashion. It covered more than just kimonos.”

  “Whew! That’s a relief!” He mimed wiping sweat from his forehead. “‘Cause I had no idea where I was going to find tickets for a championship sumo match.”

  Her heart froze in her chest. This was it. Her tongue was inexplicably dry and stuck to the roof of her mouth. She sucked up a mouthful of chocolate shake, and managed to swallow it.

  “Are you saying you’d like to go to a sporting event with me?”

  “Well, yeah. I’ve been trying for two weeks to find one you’d enjoy.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I knew you’d like going to a concert, and that was going to be my fallback plan, but I thought it would be nice going someplace where we didn’t have to scream at each other.”

  Marissa grinned. “So, you’re asking me out on a date?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “I’d love to go out with you. We can figure out where, later.”

  “Great!”

  “Ho, ho, ho!” Roger boomed, coming out of the Toy Shop garden shed.

  Marissa nodded her head toward the throng. “Your turn to do escort duty.”

  Dean stuffed the last of her fries into his mouth, and hurried through the curtain to address the crowd of children cheering for Santa. “Okay, kids, get back in line with your parents. Santa wants to see good little boys and girls.”

  * * * * *

  By late afternoon, Marissa regretted giving away her fries. She was starving. The worst part was she was surrounded by candy, mocking her hunger. Elves were not supposed to touch the decorations. They especially weren’t supposed to eat the decorations. But this was the final day of Santa’s Wonderland. There would be no more surprise inspections by Carol, the elf manager.

  The next time there was a lull in photo customers, she grabbed one of the decorative peppermint sticks planted around Santa’s Wonderland, pulled off its rainbow-gummy flower, and stripped away the plastic wrap keeping it safely non-sticky. No wimpy little candy cane, the peppermint sticks were at least an inch thick, and eight inches long. The sugar rush from this should keep her going until the dinner break. Although sucking on it made her think of Dean, and what his cock would taste like, filling her with an entirely different kind of hunger.

  Dean dragged a young girl through the snowflake-patterned curtain, and dropped the matching memory stick on the counter. Then his eyes widened, his gaze locking on the peppermint stick.

  “Are you going to eat that whole thing?” he asked, in an awed whisper.

  She closed her mouth around the top third of the stick then slid it out in a showy lick, dropping her gaze meaningfully to his knickers before looking up again. “I just might.”

  He shook his head, then his whole body, as if he was loosening his muscles before a track competition. He grabbed the empty memory stick and plunged through the curtain, back to the waiting crowd of children.

  Marissa smiled at the little girl and her mother as she fed the memory stick into the computer and brought the images onto the screen. “You look so adorable on Santa’s lap. Which picture do you want?”

  She set the peppermint stick on the counter so that she could enter the mother’s selections in the computer, and ran her credit card while the pictures printed. She tucked the 8x10 images in the special Santa’s Wonderland die cut folders, then put the folders and the sheet of wallet-sized photos into the bag made of treated paper, so the freshly printed images wouldn’t stick or smear.

  “Here you go, ma’am. Merry Christmas.”

  Her last task was to clear the memory stick then put it on the counter where Dean could grab it the next time he came back.

  A child’s terrified wails pierced the air. Another kid too young to understand about the Santa-toy connection, only seeing him as a big, loud, brightly colored, bearded stranger.

  A woman rushed through the curtain, an infant wearing a white-and-gold star costume clutched in her arms. Dean followed, shaking his head.

  “Too bad. The kid looked really cute until Santa reached for him.”

  Marissa shrugged. “Happens.”

  She popped the peppermint stick back into her mouth, running it in and out.

  Dean groaned. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

  “What do you think?”

  Pursing her lips around the peppermint stick, she dragged it slowly across her lower lip, then pushed it into her mouth, pumping it in and out without licking it off so that it glistened wetly. It was actually kind of a turn-on. She pictured her fist wrapped tightly around the base of Dean’s cock, his hot length sliding in and out of her mouth, velvety soft skin whispering back and forth over her lips while her tongue caressed him. Her nipples tightened, and heat started building between her legs, until her pussy was as wet as the candy.

  Dean closed his eyes. “I can’t watch. Not and still go out in front of all those kids.”

  She dropped her gaze to the front of his knickers, where a distinctive bulge poked at the green velvet. Her pussy throbbed, eager to feel the teasing contrast of soft, supple velvet over hard, hot cock. She wanted to stroke him, crushing the velvet against her palm as she wrapped her fist around his cock and squeezed, pumping up and down his length until he came in his tights. But that would definitely get her fired for behavior unbecoming to an elf.

  She tore her gaze away from his bulging knickers.

  “Maybe you’d better be photo elf for a while. I’ll go escort the kids.”

  He opened his eyes. “Thanks. But leave the candy here.”

  She gave the peppermint one last slobbery lick, and smiled at the corresponding surge in his knickers. “Whatever you say.”

  He groaned, and buried his face in his hands. “I’m a dead elf.”

  Marissa escorted six more children through a visit with Santa, each time dropping them off to Dean for their parents to buy photos commemorating the occasion. She paused with every visit to pick up the peppermint stick and give it a quick lick, playing up the motion for all she was worth. She slicked the candy in a
nd out, ran her tongue up its length, then closed her teeth on the tip and sucked until her cheeks nearly touched, well aware of Dean’s heated gaze following her every move.

  When she came back with the seventh child, a crier whose parents weren’t buying photos, her peppermint was gone.

  “Where’s my candy?”

  “Under the counter. I had to put it away, or I’d definitely lose my safety deposit on this costume, watching you lick it.”

  She grinned, and shook her jingle bell at him. “Naughty, naughty. Better be careful Santa doesn’t hear you, or you’ll get coal in your stocking.”

  “What I want for Christmas, Santa can’t deliver.”

  “You want something special beneath the tree, huh?”

  “Beneath the tree, in the back of the sleigh, against the chimney…I’m an easygoing elf. I don’t care where.”

  A warm flush swept over her skin. It had started out as a joke, but they were both serious now. Her heart thundered with excitement. The attraction wasn’t just one-sided. He felt it, too.

  “I’m just back from a six-month co-op. My lease doesn’t start until next semester,” she warned him.

  “The frat house is closed for the holidays, but I’ve got keys. If you don’t mind no heat—”

  From the other side of the curtain, Roger bellowed, “Elf!”

  “We’ll keep plenty warm.” Grinning, Marissa dashed back through the curtain.

  They didn’t have a chance to talk without being overheard for the rest of the afternoon. Finally, at five o’clock, the reindeer handler came to collect his reindeer, and Santa took another break while Marissa and Dean helped herd the beasts into the truck. Their jobs consisted of bracing the portable fences so that the reindeer wouldn’t try to knock the fence over and run away, while the handler shouted and clapped his hands from behind them, urging the reindeer to run away from him and into the truck.

  “The reindeer have to eat their magic corn so they can fly tonight,” Marissa explained to the waiting children. “Santa will be here for another two hours before he has to go back to the North Pole.”

  Then the team from the Giving Tree charity showed up towing a pallet truck full of crates. They emptied the presents stored in Santa’s Toy Shop into the crates, to much excitement from the few children remaining.

  Roger came back from his dinner break just as they sealed the final crate. His nose was much redder than when he’d left, and he swayed slightly where he stood, legs spread and hands on his hips.

  “Want to see me shake like a bowl full of jelly?” he asked.

  Marissa and Dean traded panicked looks.

  “Santa’s sloshed,” she whispered. “Now what do we do?”

  “If we can get him into his chair, maybe no one will notice.”

  They each took an arm, and carefully guided Roger up the ramp and through the curtain to Santa’s living room. He collapsed heavily into his chair, pulling them down with him.

  “Jingle and Belle, my two favorite elves,” he crooned.

  “And you’re our favorite Santa,” Dean answered, his voice muffled against Roger’s red velvet suit. “But all these children want to see you, too, Santa. You can’t disappoint the good little boys and girls.”

  “Ho, ho, ho!” he boomed, flinging his arms wide. Marissa tumbled to the floor, sitting down with a thump. Dean caught himself on the arm of Santa’s chair, hanging for a moment before pulling himself upright. “Come to Santa, children!”

  “One at a time!” Dean shouted, as the crowd surged in response to Roger’s invitation. “Come to Santa, one at a time!”

  Marissa stood up, brushing off her miniskirt. “Please, don’t do anything embarrassing.”

  Roger ignored her, waving his black-mittened hand at a boy who was about ten years old. “Come to Santa, little boy. And tell me, what’s your favorite Christmas carol?”

  “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” the boy answered immediately.

  “Mine, too! Elf, sing Rudolph for this good little boy.”

  Marissa closed her eyes briefly. So much for not doing anything embarrassing. This night could not end soon enough. But if it kept Roger from falling out of his chair, she’d sing.

  “You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen…”

  Chapter Three

  Marissa operated the photo printer for the final visitors, while Dean tried to keep them from discovering just how jolly Santa had become. He had a pretty good singing voice, and cheerfully belted out whichever Christmas carol Santa asked him to sing, regardless of whether or not he knew the words.

  “Frosty the Snowman, was a holly, jolly guy. With a corncob pipe and an ugly hat that was at least a half-foot high.”

  She giggled at his improvised lyrics, and popped the last peppermint shard into her mouth. In deference to Dean’s need to keep up elf appearances, she’d shattered the stick against the counter and eaten it piece by piece rather than sucking on it. But she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that holiday package in his knickers, and how soon she’d have a chance to unwrap it.

  The faint sound of the Pachebel Canon playing over the loudspeakers was interrupted by a burst of static. “Attention mall shoppers. The mall will be closing in fifteen minutes.”

  Dean escorted a boy and his father through the curtain, dropping the memory stick on the counter and picking up the replacement. “Only two more.”

  She beamed at the father as she plugged the stick into the computer and pulled up the images of his son. “Would you like 5x7s, 8x10s, wallet-size or postcards? He looks particularly cute in this pose, where he’s tugging on Santa’s mitten.”

  “Yeah, we’ll take a 5x7 and 8x10 of that.”

  She rang up the sale and packaged the photos, Dean singing an energetic if not particularly accurate rendition of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town in the background.

  The next father bought a single 5x7 of his daughter. And the final couple purchased two photo packages, one of their son sitting on Santa’s lap in the traditional pose, and one of him trying on Santa’s hat, the heavy white fur edging drooping down to cover one eye.

  “Attention mall shoppers. The mall will be closing in five minutes.”

  Dean leaned against the photo counter, watching her print out the final photos and package them for the proud parents. They both waved and called “Merry Christmas” as the last of their customers headed home.

  “Finally. I thought today would never end.” She pulled off her hat and ran her fingers through her hopelessly flattened hair.

  Putting his arm around her waist, he pulled her close and leaned in for a kiss.

  “Ho, ho, ho! Santa needs to get into his sleigh and start delivering presents to all the good little children,” Roger boomed.

  “Santa needs to get a cab and sleep it off,” Dean muttered, resting his forehead against her hair.

  Marissa sighed. “Can you shut down all the equipment while I go check on Santa?”

  “Sure.” Dean released her and turned away.

  She paused halfway up the ramp to admire the way his green velvet knickers stretched across his tight ass as he bent to unplug the printer. Sighing again, she pushed aside the curtain and confronted Roger.

  “Hey, Roger. Mall’s closed. Are you gonna be able to get home okay? We can call a cab for you if you want.”

  He waved a black leather mitten in the vague direction of the West entrance. “My sleigh is waiting for me.”

  “Uh-huh. Who’s driving the sleigh?”

  He sighed, his bushy white beard puffing out with his breath. “My wife’s picking me up.”

  “All righty, then. Say hi to Mrs. Claus for me.”

  “Merry Christmas! And to all a good night!” Laboriously, he levered himself out of the chair, then tottered down the ramp to the photo area. “Merry Christmas, Jingle!”

  She heard the faint jingle of Dean’s hat as he shook his head. “You too, Roger.”

  “Attention mall shoppers. The mall is now closed. It
will reopen for your shopping pleasure tomorrow at one o’clock in the afternoon.”

  The incessant holiday music clicked off, replaced by the chorus of security gates clanging shut. A few last-minute shoppers strolled down the main walkway past the kiosk vendors shrouding their wares for the night, but most of the mall employees ducked out the service corridors. In five minutes, the place would be deserted.

  Dean pushed through the curtain and strolled into Santa’s living room. “Everything’s shut down and put away in the shed. I’ll drop the deposits off at the bank on my way out.”

  He dropped into the fake-leather chair, and patted his knee. “What do you want for Christmas, little girl?”

  Marissa giggled and sat on his lap. He cupped her hip, snuggling her closer to his body. She circled his top peppermint candy button with her finger, her nail scratching lightly across the velvet of his vest.

  “I want a big package, that I can unwrap tonight.”

  The teasing light faded from Dean’s expression, replaced by the heat of desire. His gaze focused on her mouth.

  “How about a little candy? Or something else sweet to eat?”

  She licked her dry lips. “Sweet is good.”

  Slowly, he lowered his head, giving her one last chance to change her mind. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up to him.

  “Merry Christmas, Eddie!” the Charm Shack clerk called to the Magic Moving Mirrors vendor as she passed on the other side of the Santa’s Wonderland set.

  Dean jerked his head back. “We can’t do this here.”

  Marissa shivered, suddenly deprived of his warmth. She ached for his touch, her breasts taut and tender, and a throbbing between her legs that begged for his hard, hot cock to press against her, inside her, until she screamed his name in release. If the chair was just a little bigger, she’d twist around so that she could straddle him.

  “I want you, Dean. I’ve been dreaming about it all day.”

  “Me, too.” He shifted restlessly in the oversized chair, and his velvet-clad cock brushed the side of her thigh. He groaned. “Santa’s Toy Shop.”