Father Christmas

Samantha was drawn to the scene. "My! There are arguments in Santa's village?" she asked in amusement.

The elves all snapped to something like attention when they heard her. "Samantha!" they all said together in a weird sort of harmony. "We... weren't having an argument," one began.

"We are trying to fix a problem, and it is not being cooperative," said the second.

"Neither are you," the third said pointedly to the second.

"What is the problem," Samantha asked, wanting to figure out how this whole gigantic, chaotic place could possibly work so efficiently.

"We here at the North Pole," the most officious of the three explained, "are very good at projecting how many of which toys and things all the good little boys and girls will want each year. But you can't catch every fad that catches fire, every year. We missed this one," he said sourly, pointing to a large plastic toy on the table. Just looking at it made Samantha want to play with it.

"Parents out there are already having fights in toy stores when stock comes in, and it is only going to get worse when the Christmas season gets going in the human world," the first elf went on. It went without saying that it was always the Christmas season here. "Without the subconscious knowledge among parents that Santa can pick up the slack, there will be chaos by Christmas time."

"Remember Teddy Ruxpin?" the third added darkly. All three held their heads.

"So what's the problem?" Samantha asked. "It seems like you guys are super-productive."

"We are... if we've planned things right," the first elf said.

"We are anyway, but there are always limits," the second said.

"So, how do you fix the problem?" Samantha prompted gently. She was a management consultant, after all. Helping people figure their own way out of the boxes they were in was what she did.

"We have to shut down and retool. Now," the first elf said vehemently. "If we don't get that done ASAP, we will have no chance to make enough by the big night, not even if Santa himself pitched in."

"Which we are not asking him to do," the third elf said flatly.

"No," agreed the second elf, in perfect agreement on that point. "But if we stop production to retool, we won't make enough in the meantime for us to meet our goals either!"

"This is all so fascinating," Samantha said to Twinksie apologetically. "I'm not really that hungry, can someone find me when Santa is free? In the meantime, I'd like to hear more about this," she said turning back to the elves, whom Samantha did not notice were becoming extremely excited to hear her words. "Everything here is the most marvelous operation I can imagine."

Twinksie smiled to herself as she left, looking over her shoulder to see the elves pointing back into the main work area as Samantha's graceful figure bent low to listen to their concerns.

The fashion elf almost danced away.

*

"Ho ho ho. There we go!" Santa said, rolling down his sleeves and re-fastening his cufflinks. "Up and running, boys!" he added as he slid back on his suit jacket. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a guest I've been missing terribly. I hope she isn't bored!" He fretted that Samantha had been left to her own devices for too long. What kind of man was he, to let that happen? But the job... the job had to come first. Samantha would understand.

His mind instantly told him that Samantha was in a toy workshop only three warehouses and six workshops away. Why she was there, he had no idea, except that it was near the kitchens. He hustled in that direction, catching a ride for two blocks on the little railroad as it chugged through town. As the chuffing locomotive turned left, Santa hopped off to head right.

He turned into the workshop to be greeted by the sight of Samantha and four elven foremen dancing in a circle, holding hands and laughing triumphantly.

Popbit saw Santa first and dropped the hands of Samantha and Swizzle. "Santa! Samantha is great!" he said excitedly.

"Santa!" Swizzle joined in. "Samantha worked out our problem for us. We'll have more than enough units by Christmas Eve, and we will even have elf-hours left over to help out Rizzer here!" Rizzer was part of an entirely different working group, and Santa wondered how he had gotten involved in this conversation. And how had Samantha?

"I haven't fixed anything," Samantha said firmly, but with a smile. "These fellows know all the things, and will do all the work, I just helped them think outside the box... or outside the workshop, in this instance. Rizzer's team in soccer balls..."

"Footballs," the elf said firmly.

"In footballs, will host and supplement Popbit's manual assembly teams in their workshop, while we retool everything here all at once. Then, with the automated assembly going here, Popbit will be able to transfer a few hands over to Rizzer so his department can more than catch up on... footballs. All they have to do now is execute," she added significantly.

"Elves always execute," Santa said, still a little confused, but...

"Samantha showed how we could execute and still get the job done," Swizzle replied firmly. He was looking at her with bright eyes. They all were looking at her with bright eyes, Santa realized. That was okay. He was looking at her with bright eyes, too. Chestnuts, she looked sensational in that dress. He'd never seen one quite like it.

Santa walked over to Samantha and impulsively kissed her.

"Oooooh," all four elves said in unison. In fact, half the line elves in the larger production area also ooohed.

Samantha blushed. "Um, I understand that there are cookies to be had around here somewhere?" she asked shyly. "I wasn't hungry before, but I've worked up an appetite with all this fun!"

"Thank you, Samantha!" the elves called.

"It's such a happy place here," Samantha said, leaning into Santa as they walked toward a huge, thatched-roof building that smelled incredible.

"Happy? Those three have been panicking for weeks now," Santa said. "I had not had the chance to see if I could help with a little of the old Christmas Magic yet. But they were on my list. Thank you. Having me brute force things would have used a lot of time. Tije I don;t really have."

"It wasn't any trouble," Samantha told Santa, as she selected three cookies from a bewildering array of somehow fresh-baked offerings. She bit into one and moaned with her eyes half-lidded for a moment. "Wow, that's good... Anyway," she went on, sitting down at a table, "I had such fun! I got to help make toys for good little girls and boys! Me!"

Santa smiled at her, watching her feel and experience the Magic of Christmas.

Samantha looked at him and whistled. "And don't you look as tasty as these cookies in your work clothes?" Santa wore his three-piece dark green suit, with a red tie. Not a hair was out of place, and everything was pressed perfectly with razor-sharp creases.

Santa just dreamily looked back at Samantha, drinking in her perfection in that snow dress. "Ho ho ho, it is you Samantha, who looks utterly perfect."

They were a ridiculous sight to all the elves coming in and out of the kitchens, two elegantly tailored giants, sitting at an elf-sized table, giggling into each others' eyes and devouring a second helping of cookies.

"Ahem, sorry to interrupt, Santa," a diffident-looking pair of elves said, slowly approaching the two. "We could use some help."

"Of course, Gizmo and Hipscotch," Santa said, tearing his eyes from Samantha. His eyes shot right back to her. "Err, I am afraid duty calls. I should have known it would if I..."

"Um, Santa," Hipscotch said embarrassedly. "We actually were hoping to borrow Samantha? We heard about how she smoothed out the thing over at Construction Toys. We don't have the same problem, but... well... it's the sort of problem we wouldn't have asked you about, um, before. Instead, we'd have gone to... um..."

"I'd love to help," Samantha said, clapping her hands. "I'll just be a little while, I hope," she added rising, and wolfing down her last cookie. "Oh, those are so good... Anyway, where are we headed?"

Santa leaned over her shoulder and whispered, "If you are sure this really is fun for you, I'll let them put you to work." Samantha nodded quite happily. Santa pondered for a second, then brightened. "It will let me have some quality time with The List. None of the elves will shout at me for working if they don't see me doing it... If I don't see you before then, I'll make sure they get you to my cottage by six. No later!" he added sternly to Gizmo, who saluted with a grin.

Samantha blew him a kiss and let the two elves lead her off, each holding one of her gentle, elegant hands.

She truly was enjoying the Magic of Christmas, Santa smiled to himself.

As he looked off after her retreating figure, he froze. She was feeling the Magic. And she was filling with it as he watched! There it was, the Magic, his Magic, flowing into her from all around Santa's workshop.

The wonder, the joy of it struck Santa like a set of Hulk Hands Inflatable Boxing Gloves.

He almost floated back to his cottage to update the list.

He realized the first thing he was going to do was to check twice for any more young adult female Santa lovers who would be lying in wait to comfort him. He was not getting caught again.

He stopped. Not three days before, he had been rather looking forward to getting caught even more times than last year. Planning on it even... Now...

*

Samantha was at the cottage at 5:47, having helped the elves put out two more fires, though she worried that the second situation would need some follow-up guidance, or more accurately, some follow-up refereeing. It was a bit of a balancing act. Samantha professionally did not like balancing acts as solutions, but they often were the only way. She had better tell Santa to keep an eye on things.

The hundredth elf she had met that day showed her to Santa's door and biffed off himself for dinner with some friends. Samatha stopped at the entrance to the cottage, and smoothed down her dress, realizing once again that it made her look sensational, and she marveled that it had been there, waiting for her, upon her arrival. Her lips curled up slyly as she remembered what she had on underneath...

Still nervous, despite all that, she knocked gently. There were rustling noises from within, and then Santa was opening the door, smiling at her, and gesturing her inside. Samantha smiled and entered his home, his innermost home, for the first time. It was rustic and cramped, gloriously comfortable, and welcoming in every way imaginable.

"The elves did not work you too hard?" Santa inquired anxiously.

"It was not work," Samantha said happily. "It was a chance to do so much good, and to have an absolutely marvelously fun time doing it. Even stressed out, the elves are so fu..."

Santa cut her off, sweeping her into his arms and capturing her in a kiss that utterly took her breath away. His lips curled against hers, and she instantly responded, letting herself go weak in his arms, feeling his immensely powerful support. She lifted a hand and grabbed the back of his head in the one strong gesture she wanted to make, keeping him against her in that kiss.

It was a timeless moment.

"Ach!" Samantha said in frustration, turning slightly away from Santa's impossibly handsome face. "You wanted me here at six. Dinner is probably getting cold as we stand here messing about!"

"Dinner will come, piping hot, when I call for it," Santa said. "When we call for it. We can mess about to our heart's content."

"Then I hope you aren't hungry," Samantha said, hands leaping to the buttons of Santa's vest. He cooperatively shrugged out of the suit coat and tossed it aside. She pushed the vest off right after. Her fingers fell to the ornate knot at his throat, and despite never having seen one like it, she had it undone and was sultrily slipping the insanely luxurious silk tie from around his neck. The shirt went in seconds thereafter, and Samantha leaned forward against his massive chest. "I am hungry, but not for dinner," she sighed, nestling against him.

But not for long. There were no suspenders or belt to mar the perfection of his waist, and his trousers were too perfectly tailored to need either. She fumbled surely at his fly and tugged the razor-creased pants to the floor. She straightened up and pushed him back to the huge easy chair in the living room.

Santa plopped back into it, and laughed, "Ho ho ho. We've been here before," he added hungrily.

Samantha was about to speak when she really took a good look at him, then burst into gales of merry laughter.

"What?" Santa asked, puzzled.

"Those... I mean..." Samantha gasped. "All afternoon, you have been wearing the sharpest, most elegant suit in fashion history, and underneath you are wearing... baggy cotton boxers with reindeer printed all over them!" Samantha laughed again.

"I knew I should have worn the mistletoe ones," Santa muttered.

"The What?"

"My mistletoe boxers," Santa grinned. "With mistletoe embroidered on the waistline over the front..."

Samantha almost swayed at the image. But then she straightened. "Well we may have been here before, so to speak, but we aren't going to the same place... at least not right off the bat," she added.

Instead of kneeling before him again, she stood in front of him and swayed gently to the background music she had not realized was always there, everywhere in Santa's Village. Her hands went to the front of her dress and she began to undo the hidden buttons up the front, from her neck down to her knees, one button at a time, deliberately slowly. She let only flashes of skin peek through as she worked, and she realized that she was stripping to Let It Snow.

It worked.

The last button loosened, and Samantha swayed before Santa, holding the dress closed despite his entreating eyes. Then she let it slide off her shoulders to the floor, and stood there, swaying gently, in that amazing lingerie set.

Suddenly, it didn't feel like it was enough. Or worse, it was far too much. This was Santa Claus!

"Ho ho holy jingle bells," Santa breathed softly, his voice still a rumble like an avalanche. "That is... you are... Samantha, you look excruciatingly hot right now."

She could see the desire in his eyes, as full-throated and genuine as she could have ever wanted. She could physically feel his gaze upon her. Her knees weakened with need.

"There is only one terrible problem with underthings like this," Santa rumbled again.

Problem?

"I am always instantly torn between wanting to look at them forever, and wanting to rip them off at once."

Always.

Mrs. Claus had worn underthings like this. Has this design been something she had worn? Oh, crud... "Did she own a set like this?" Samantha asked in a suddenly tiny voice.

Santa instantly recognized her concern, and rather than be hurt by the mention of his late wife, he instead leaned forward to comfort Samantha. "Eleanor loved some sexy underwear," he said seriously. "Or not..." he added with a naughty twinkle. "But this look is new and different," he added, drinking in Samantha in the best gift-wrapping he had beheld in a long, long time.

Santa rose from the seat and stepped toward her, still admiring her. "I never can understand how the elves come up with such stunning ideas. It is not like this is the kind of play clothing I bring to good little girls."

Samantha found it immensely comforting to know that even Santa didn't know everything going on around him. It failed to register upon her how remarkable it was that she already knew things here that he did not. She was too busy trembling as Santa moved before her, lifting a hand to run his fingers up and down under the left strap of her bra. "I am going to take these off of you now," Santa whispered, kissing her lightly and briefly.

Samantha just nodded. Her wild swings from assertiveness to timidity around this man were definitely hovering in the timid range at the moment. His hands slipped behind her back, and in an instant, she felt the hooks slip free. He withdrew his hands, taking the bra with him, and Samantha watched as Santa Clause stared at her naked chest. There was wonder and desire in his eyes. His hands rose, and she could feel the mighty restraint he imposed upon himself to merely caress the outer curves of her breasts.

"Ohhh ho..." Santa moaned, then filled his mouth with her right nipple, its firmness pressing back against the hunger of his tongue. But still, he was too gentle, too restrained for what Samantha wanted at that moment. She grabbed his head in both hands and crushed him against her softness. She heard him growl in response and his soft kiss became unleashed.

Samantha knew she was attractive. Men had made that abundantly clear in her over thirty years on earth. But no man had ever made her feel so utterly desirable. Suddenly, Santa's hands flashed downward to the waist of her high-cut panties, and in a trice, she felt them around her ankles.

She had been wearing the panties underneath the straps of her garter belt, but she instantly shrugged at the phenomenon. Things happened that needed to here. And she needed those panties off, but the stockings still on.

Santa swept her up into his arms and carried her across the room to the huge double doors beyond. They swung open before him of their own accord, and he strode with her toward the bed.

Suddenly, Samantha jumped. In his arms, she simultaneously tugged and shoved Santa. "No! Wait, yes. I mean, stop... but..." Samantha shoved her forehead frustratedly against his. "It's just... that is her bed, and..."

"Ho ho no, it is not," Santa rumbled with a smile. "I'd be far more jumpy than you, if it were. The week after she was gone, the elves came into this room and replaced every stick of furniture. The cheeky little fellows even made the bed larger than it was before! They knew I needed a little separation from her, if I was going to heal at least a little," he said introspectively. His introspection vanished as fast as it arose.

Santa laid her out on the huge, soft, apparently new bed, and looked down at her as she curved her body, naked but for the elegant lace garter and white stockings framing the neatly trimmed triangle of her pubic hairs. He froze.

"Santa... Chris, I need you," Samantha said, ready to be assertive again. "I need you inside of me, please."

Santa smiled almost shyly and slid over her on the bed.

Their initial coupling was intense but so very tender. His rod, like the rest of his body, was solid, powerful, and perfectly formed, with just the right curve to give her pleasure like she had never quite enjoyed before. And like the rest of his body, it was gentle in the best, most assertive ways.

He split her slowly, giving her body time to grasp and mold itself to him. Then, as he began to drive into her, Samantha was in ecstasy. His swift, powerful strokes did not slam against her, instead, he gave himself to her gently yet inexorably, over and over, and she took him in turn into her nether embrace.

Never had she experienced a more perfect experience of any kind.

It lasted forever, Santa stroking into her in deliriously endless effort, but then it ended all too soon. Suddenly, he slowed his thrusts, then stopped, then slid from inside her. Samantha looked up at him in confusion. Then Santa rolled over on the huge bed, onto his own back. And he pulled Samantha over on top of him. He pushed her still-confused body upward so he could feast on first one breast, then the other.

Samantha gasped but swiftly regained her agency, shifting her hips over him, finding his hardened shaft with her now soaking opening, and sliding down upon him once more, her nipple popping free of his mouth as she sank downward. Wordlessly, she began to ride him up and down, consuming his manhood over and over, feeling him invade her very being.