Santa & His ElfbyZacNeuman©
"It's stifling in here," Jessie said, "I wish they would open a window or something."
"Don't worry, honey, this won't take much longer," Carla said, "After all, they got that hunk from sales to be Santa, I just wish it was me working under him."
"Oh stop it," Jessie reddened at the implied thought.
"Oh come on now, Jessie, wouldn't you like to find out what he's like in the sack?"
"Please, Carla, I have no interest in finding out anything at all about him," she sneaked a peek at him through the throng of employees, "He's too . . . much a…," she became flustered, "too much of a ladies man, kind of, you know what I mean?"
"I sure do, honey," Carla smacked her lips, "and that's exactly why I'd like to find out."
"What's that," Jessie asked?
"Just what's stuffed inside those pants."
"Oh my gosh, Carla, stop it," Jessie was thoroughly embarrassed now and trying to hide her blushing face from her fellow employees, "I don't want to hear it."
Carla had a way of bringing out Jessie's crimson color and even though it embarrassed her, Jessie loved Carla dearly. She was a good friend and a totally honest person. She managed to always say what Jessie had been wondering but was too afraid to venture into words.
Carla elbowed Jessie in the ribs and pointed to the front of the room where the President of the company stood with Tom Nichols, the company's newly selected Santa, as he pulled his hand out of the fish bowl that held the names of the nervous female employees.
"And the winner is...," The room became quiet and the sound of breaths being drawn in with the silent hope that they would be the lucky ones this year and not be named. Every year this is the most stressful time in this otherwise jovial office. For it is on this evening when the computers are silenced, the phones are put on answer, and the eggnog has run dry; when one lucky woman will be drawn to play the part that they've dreaded since their first days of working for M.A. Reilly Corporation. This is the night that two unsuspecting employees will be named to participate in the yearly fund-raiser that is sponsored by the local business community in the City of Brotherly Love, otherwise known as Philadelphia.
The other companies have similar events and donate other people as well. This year M. A. Reilly Corporation was selected to supply Santa and one of his female helpers to give out the gifts to the attendees at this year's festivities. Dean Whittier, down the street, was nominated to supply Mrs. Clause and another elf. All the major downtown businesses provide two employees, one male and one female, to portray a variety of roles, from elves to Frosty the snowman. Eventually they all meet at one special dinner and are given their costumes as well as directions on how to mingle and act their hearts out on this one night at the Annual Christmas Party at the Philadelphia Convention Center.
Not a sound was being made, not a sniffle, not a cough. It was as quiet as a mouse while on the roam for that one elusive crumb. Carla seemed to be the only one eager to be selected as a partner to Tom Nichols. Tom, himself had that kind of smile plastered on his face that is the result of not wanting to be present and wishing he was any place else but here.
As the paper was slowly unfolded, only adding to the nervous excitement, the silent prayers of all female employees who were gathered could be seen floating to the ceiling in hopes of reaching the heavens above.
With a sudden rush of exhalations, you could hear the relief in those who made it through another year.
"Oh you lucky bitch," Carla said to Jessie, the smooth jealousy rolling across her tongue.
As if by magic or the quirky sense of humor that Mr. Murphy seemed to bestow upon Jessie, Mariah Carey's voice began bellowing, "All I want for Christmas is you." How ironic, thought Jessie and she began to laugh inwardly at the choice of music being played. It was at that moment she remembered her horoscope for today stated that a wonderful opportunity would come her way. Murphy's Law struck again. If this was the great thing that would find her, she wondered what else could possibly go wrong since there were several hours left in this depressing day. It seemed that the last several years, she had been having a torrid affair with that Murphy man. You'd think he could manage to snag someone else much more interesting this year.
"Oh my God, no, this can't be. No, I can't do this. I mean, I can do this, but I can't do this with him. Please say this is some sort of mistake, please." Jessie felt the room spinning around her as she tried to remember to breathe.
Carla had a most wicked grin of all in the room. At that moment, all sex-crazed Carla could think about was the package wrapped in gray material that housed the "gift of all gifts". Had anyone noticed, they would have seen where her green eyes settled, silently unwrapping the ribbon of Tom's pants. She was wondering if it was true what they said about large hands and long feet. She licked her lips with the vision of Tom's flesh colored sugarplums dancing in front of her eyes. She watched as his thick, long tiding of joy swayed from side to side as he spread his legs and crossed his arms as he walked toward her in her daydream.
Jessie, with the wide-open eyes of a doe and that scared look upon her face, was as white as a ghost. All of the employees in the room were clapping and edging her to the front of the large conference area. She moved, but was unaware of how she got there. Once she turned and faced the crowd her blood pressure spiked and she almost crumbled on the spot.
Tom hooked an arm under her elbow and gave her support while whispering in her ear, "Steady, Jessie, this bad dream is for the good of the people and long live the corporation and all that."
She looked up at him and muttered under her breath, "Yeah, damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead." This was going to be a very long holiday season, she thought to herself as her half-dazed expression gave way to her practiced exaggeration of a smile.
The President blabbered on for the next ten minutes about Christmas and the nobility of the cause. How delightful that these two were donating their time during this season of giving, blah, blah, blah. As Jessie leaned into Tom for support she noticed that he had such muscular arms and was almost a foot taller than she was. She was a tiny thing, her mother always called her scrawny, weighing in at just less than ninety-five pounds and barely reaching five foot tall. She was small of breast and butt and skinny of leg and arm. Her ribs stuck out as if she'd been starved for the last decade and she wore thick tortoise shell glasses that seemed to magnify her eyes and the lack of make-up, which she didn't know how to use. She had a pretty face, but the glasses obscured that and she always seemed to be staring at the floor when she spoke to anyone. What struck Jessie was the delicious scent that seemed to float all around him. She had never been this close to him before and wasn't sure if her fantasy had betrayed her or if his cologne was truly spiked with the scent of raw sex appeal. Stop it; she thought to herself, he would never notice you in a million years.
Tom, on the other hand, was one of those golden boys, six feet tall, weighing in at one hundred and ninety pounds, muscular, and good looking. He was one of those guys that would go through life on the crest of the wave, never once faltering or losing his way. If this were war, you would see this statuesque man standing in the middle of a firefight and would know, instinctively, nothing would dare happen to him. He seemed to be blessed that way. He was a confident, "can do" type of guy, ready to leap tall buildings to Jessie's submissive, mousy appearance, ready to blend in with the wall persona. Random choice had brought together what nature saw fit to keep apart.
As if it wasn't bad enough, Jessie spotted Carla approaching them as they stood side by side having their picture taken by the photographer of the "Philadelphia Inquirer" which was going to run a full spread on the Annual Christmas Event that was the toast of the city.
"Tom, what do you think we'll have to do this year?" Jessie asked rather hesitantly.
"Well, Jessie, if I remember correctly, I'll have to sit on a special chair because I'm Santa and you'll have to stand by my side helping me. Maybe you'll even have to sit on my lap to show the little ones how it's done." He said patting his thigh with those hands she'd envisioned many times with the long, manly fingers. Tom gave her a wink and laying a finger on the tip of her nose, he chuckled and told her "It'll be okay, don't worry. Somehow we'll get through this together." His smile led her to believe he was correct in his assumption.
As the photographer snapped their picture Tom could see Carla strutting towards them out of the corner of his eye. Maybe this was the chance he'd been waiting for. He could find out all about her through Jessie who was her best friend. Maybe this wouldn't be such a dull Christmas after all and the good cheer of the holidays would find their way to him in the form of that angel of mercy, Carla.
"So, Tom, make sure you treat my friend right, okay? Carla said rather coyly as she stood beside Tom and whispered into his cheek as she stood on tiptoes. "Oh, I'll treat her right if you say you'll go out for a drink with me after this party ends."
Jessie watched Carla, who always seemed to be at ease around men, accept Tom's gracious offer and tried to ease her way into the milling crowd after the photographer clicked the last picture. "Jessie, where are ya going?" Carla asked as she grabbed Jessie by the arm and pulled her back into the little circle of three. "Tom is planning on taking us out for a drink and I'm sure he'd be heartbroken if his elf didn't come along."
Carla took her hand when all she wanted to do was rise above the crowd and escape this torture, but she kept Jessie grounded and all she could do was offer her thanks with that plastic, practiced smile. This was going to be a very long evening. Walking across the street to "The Pub" we marveled at our good fortune in finding a table near the warm fireplace. It looked like something out of a storybook, all decorated in shiny gold and silver ribbons. There were lights of red, green, and blue strung along the ceiling with trails of pine garland laced with red poinsettias dangling from every rafter. There was Christmas music floating in the air and the waiters and waitresses were dressed in their holiday finery, adorned with garland and ornaments around their waists.
Watching Tom and Carla make mischievous merriment all through the evening, Jessie listened to the sensual laughter and the sexual innuendoes Carla used to lure Tom into her clutches. It was something to watch and Jessie tried to play it all back in her head as she stared at their voiceless mouths filling them with her own words. Tom on the other hand, seemed to have his own magic that he worked on Carla as he watched and listened to her every word. He laughed at the right times and he used his eyes to note the seriousness of a situation when needed.
Jessie watched with wonder as Tom's eyes lit when he recounted a story from his youth about a special Christmas present he had received from his grandfather. He was proud as he reached inside his pocket and brought out a gold colored case that was attached to the belt loop of his slacks. Opening it, Jessie watched as his sky blue eyes radiated a special warmth that spread across his face into one of the most magnificent smiles she had ever seen. That's when she noticed the dimple that appeared on his left cheek. A dimple, she thought, how merry. As she listened, she realized that he was not the man she thought he was. He seemed to have a gentle nature about him, but in the office you'd never know this. At work he was always in the middle of problems and he was usually the center of a developing controversy. Yet, away from the confines of office walls, he seemed rather pleasant.
"Jessie, earth to Jessie, are you there?" Tom was waving his hands in front of her face as he was trying to get her attention to let her know the waiter was placing her drink on the table in front of her. As she came out of her little world, her elbow knocked the glass filled with white wine and it slid across the table in Tom's direction before it fell and spilled sending liquid flying into his lap.
As her left hand went to her mouth covering the sound of the gasp she was making, she could tell the exact moment the cold liquid made contact with his skin. His eyes became rounded and his forehead crinkled and he started to open his mouth.
"Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry." In sheer embarrassment, Jessie immediately got to her feet and took her cloth napkin and started to place it on his lap. It didn't dawn on her until she heard the muffled cry of laughter coming from Carla's mouth that she realized what she was doing. Instinct had drawn her to try to blot the wine from his lap, but his look of utter dismay at what she was about to do, stopped her dead in her tracks as her hand was only inches away from the wet fabric.
Jessie immediately began to redden like a ripe mango and froze in her tracks. She was confused as to how to proceed. She wanted to bury her face and run away, but she was glued to the spot, unable to respond.
"Go ahead and wipe it up," laughed Carla, "I'm sure Tom wouldn't mind. Would you, Tom?" Tom gave Carla an irritated glance, which she unfortunately missed, and then smiled sweetly at poor Jessie and gently removed the napkin from her hand, "Thanks Jessie, I'll take it from here."
Jessie began to apologize profusely but Tom stopped her by taking her trembling hands in his and looking into her eyes as he calmly spoke. "It's all right, Jessie, really, mistakes happen." He was so reassuring and kind that she felt comfortable and not as awkward as she had seconds ago. The red blush across her cheeks faded as quickly as it had arrived and she smiled at him shyly, then, caught herself thinking along the lines of the conversation she had earlier with Carla about his build. Embarrassed, she turned to look at the floor but caught sight of the wet mark darkening his pants instead. The weight of the wet fabric and the way he was sitting gave her a pretty good indication of what he was built like and she involuntarily gasped, as her eyes grew large and round at the sight. She had a slight smile on her face that did not display innocence but had a ravenous, hungry look to it. It was Tom's turn to turn to become a bit red in the face now as he read the expression on Jessie's face. He had been used to women like Carla hitting on him all his life, but never had someone devour him in a split second as completely as Jessie just had. It sent an unfamiliar jolt up his spine and he was slightly disoriented by it. He recovered a split second later and began to brush off the wine from his groin. Jessie seemed to hang there a few seconds longer before she retreated to her seat and apologized once more.
The waiter brought another towel for Tom and another glass of wine and the three of them toasted to nothing in particular and sipped their drinks. Carla suggested that it would be just fine for Tom to drop by her place and she would dry his pants for him but much to Tom's own amazement he declined the offer. Even though she wasn't looking at him, he still felt Jessie's stare and it stirred something inside of him. His mind flashed to a scenario involving her kneeling between his legs and taking him into her mouth while standing in the glow of a thousand sparkling array of lights wrapped around the Christmas tree. This was her gift to him on this special evening as he imagined what her tongue would feel like as it licked and traced along the veins of his hardness. It was a brief flash of thought that he tried to shake off and it made him a bit uncomfortable as traces of the vision remained and could be felt by the warmth that was seductively caressing him between his thighs. So, he concentrated on flirting with Carla, but he found himself also flirting with Jessie at the same time.
Jessie seemed to be in her own little world but she responded to his flirting with sheepish little nods, demure smiles, and just the slightest of sounds which began to intrigue him. He would tell a joke or a funny story to Carla and both women would giggle and it was Jessie's musical laughter that got to him and he found himself wanting to hear more of her song. This confused him because between the two, Carla was the sexually charged woman, she was exactly his type, and he should have enjoyed her company ten fold over Jessie's. Yet, this sweet, petite wallflower drew him in without even trying. She was giving Carla her chance at him and not trying in the least. Tom found it totally unbelievable how these two could be friends when they were so opposite of each other. There must be another side to Jessie that he wasn't aware of. Maybe she was a Plain Jane by day and during the dark of night she became Wanton Vixen dressing in her black satin corset with her thigh high stockings, snapping her leather whip into the air around her victims, bathing them in her heated stares. Yeah, that must be it. This brought a smile to his lips as he imagined Jessie dressed in this fashion parading in front of him putting on her erotic show. These thoughts along with her shy yet sensual manner made him desire her more.
About this time a couple of Santa's came into the bar. They were merrily HO, HO, HO-ing to all of the patrons and having a grand old time. Several of the patrons offered to buy them drinks and things were starting to get a little out of control in the bar due to the season and the overall state of drunkenness. After a couple of shots each, the Santa's were getting loud and belligerent, having had little kids sit on their laps all day while sporting fake smiles and putting up with all of the crankiness and crying. This was such a grueling job at times and they certainly needed to unwind before going home to their own families. The Santa's seemed to be trying to outdo each other with their stories of kids crying so hard that they would tinkle right along with the bells that rang out in joyous song. A golden moment for one Santa in particular, was a woman who could only get her daughter to sit on his lap by promising to accompany her. He recalled the softness of her rounded bottom and how he had put his hand around her waist to keep her steady upon his thigh. It looked as if Santa had a soft spot, which was become harder by the second, for this woman he spoke of. As he became quiet, you could almost hear his silent Christmas wish being made in hopes that she would be waiting for him, wrapped in golden paper with a bright red bow on the top of her head when he returned home. They all agreed that this was a highlight of their holiday profession. You never knew when something this exciting and unexpected would happen to you.
"Look what you have to look forward to," Carla pointed out.
"I think it's time to call it quits ladies," Tom said, as he imagined Jessie sitting on his lap in her black satin corset while he slowly snaked the long tail of the whip between her thighs.
"Ah, just when it was starting to get fun in here," Carla pouted.
Tom stood up, his wet pants in full view to all who were in the bar, and tossed a few bills onto the table where they had been seated. One of the Santa's caught sight of him and pointed at him and yelled, "That's what some fucking little street urchin did to me this morning." Tom's misfortunate accident became the object of laughter in the bar. Carla seemed to laugh right along with them but Jessie could feel Tom's embarrassment and she walked to his side and gently guided him out of the bar. She held on to his arm, taking the lead, while walking in front of him so that he wouldn't be on display as they exited through the front doors out into the chilled night air.