Santa's the Boss

Danielle cracked up at her friend.

"Riggghht, whatever you say babe...I'm sure the fact that you look like liquid sex with a faint holiday motif has NOTHING AT ALL to do with the fact that Malcolm Dominus will be there tonight dressed up as Santa," Danielle teased her friend as the two girls laughed together.

Jade had revealed to her over the last few weeks her intense pangs of desire for the company owner—the heir to the publishing throne—the hot cup of coffee that was currently guarding the Bifröst of her sexual fantasies.

She had begun to develop creative methods of bumping into him around the large office building, their conversations always stimulating her in new and exciting ways.

As the two girls made their way downstairs to hop into their Lyft, they continued their conversation.

"You do know that he's married, right?" Danielle reminded her friend as the car sped off towards their workplace

Ahhh, yes. Jade had expected this question. It was true that she had seen his gold band stretched around the finger on his left hand. And it was generally true that something like this would've been a major no-no for her in most instances.

But for once Jade didn't feel like being virtuous and sexually scrupled. She felt like being quite the opposite. And if those excuses weren't enough, Jade also happened to know who his wife was. There was no love lost.

Martina Dominus was a very well known curator at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. She was also, as it so happened, a frigid bitch.

Jade hadn't immediately made the connection between the two. It was only after she was going over some of her old art showcase materials that she remembered the terrible way that she had been treated by one particular curator that had double-booked the up-and-coming artist's space at the museum on the eve of her big show.

Martina Dominus. She had done a quick Google search when she'd re-read the name and was amazed to realize that she was Malcolm's malcontented wife of two years. How on earth this fireplace of a man had ever fallen in love with the ice queen of Chicago's modern art scene was absolutely beyond her understanding. Martina had made life an absolute hell for a lot of the better young artists that Jade knew across the city. She gave little to no respect to the street artist and tagging world and her selections for the museum were often based on having some sort of in with the museum directors. If you weren't already showcasing in other major cities she rarely gave you the opportunity to bloom directly from your Chicago roots. And so perhaps for Jade, this was a two-birds-one-stone sort of situation.

She assured her friend that she only wanted to flirt with her boss, but Danielle also saw a spirited twinkle in her eye that seemed to foreshadow other devious intentions—like an overgrown adult child putting out milk and flavored condoms for Santa's arrival. But that was none of her business. They were all their own masters in the end. Adults would do adult things.

As the car pulled up in front of the red-carpeted entrance to the publishing company, the girls were quickly helped out by a nutcracker valet. They walked up through the cold night air to where two crisply-dressed, toy soldiers were working the double doors to the lobby.

"Welcome ladies, to the Dominus Festivus!" The one on the left said.

It was silly and opulent and Jade had to admit, rather exhilarating.

They were checked in to the guest list by the Wet Bandits from 'Home Alone' and from there the two girls walked thru the grand foyer and over to the elevators where they headed up to the top floor where the party would be held.

The Dominus Executive floor was the tallest in the building. Large arched ceilings spanned the expanse and a recent remodel had converted the old bones over to a more updated black surface and glass design aesthetic.

As the ladies stepped off the top-floor elevator they were immediately met with the brimming sounds of a John Legend cover coming from the brilliant five piece band that played from just above a rising balustrade on the opposite side of the room.

Fake snow blowers blew tiny flurries into the air and decorations hung extravagantly from every available surface.

Every surface that is, except for the eye-catching painting that spread across the ceiling above them as dance floor lights flickered off the recently completed piece. It was Jade's interpretation of Anna Karenina, the sexual desire that was currently attempting to lift the roof off the publishing company's top floor. Although in this case she highly doubted that anyone would understand its origin or what the painting represented, though she hoped that it gave Malcolm small moments of pause throughout his day when he saw it.

The music was incredible. The company had spared no expense on the lighting and the room was dotted with real-life Douglas Firs heavily coated with shiny ornaments and various thematic brilliances. Lights were strewn all around as icicles hung like stalactites from every corner of the grand room.

There was probably at least 1,000 people there which had to have been at least seventy five percent of the company. The entire expanse of the upper floor was in use. The large atrium and the rooftop patio. The executive cafeteria and the conference rooms. It felt like it had been turned into a giant, Christmas-themed club.

There were five bars set up throughout the open-spaced floor and roller-skating banquet servers in tuxedos frequently passed by with trays full of vintage, Dom Perignon Rosé Champagne.

The girls each snagged a quick stem of sparkling and gave cheers to the night's debauchery as they downed the entire glass in one go. They immediately snagged two more as a different tray skated by them. What an expensive shot to warm their blood. They handed their coats in to an Island of Misfit Toys coat-check girl and then they walked confidently out into the throngs of revelers already awash in the glow of late December celebration.

They were four glasses of Brut into their night and possibly also a shot or two of chilled Don Julio when Danielle wandered off from Jade to say hi to some work associates.

Jade swayed to herself on the dance floor as she enjoyed the way that every passing guy or girl seemed to drink in her amazing body.

"Anna Karenina." She was startled suddenly by a skin-sizzling baritone declaration that whizzed passed her ear while she danced with her half-empty champagne flute. She smiled to herself as she turned around and laid eyes on the object of her desire.

Malcolm Dominus could've been cast in the action movie version of some classic Santa fodder. His Santa suit had been tailored for his frame and rather than wear some cheap white beard, he had simply colored in his own thick facial hair with a temporary white hair dye. Now he just looked like Idris Elba had walked through a snowstorm to save her when her car had broken down in zero degree weather. At least that's how he made her feel, instantly warm all over and doubly so between her practically naked legs.

"Mr. Dominus, it's good to see you," she said as she smiled at the imposing figure of the company CEO and placed her hand against the top of his left shoulder. He stood next to her on the edge of the dance floor as varying colors and snowflakes fell all around them. He couldn't help it as his eyes drank in her youth and her brimming sexuality.

"So, you somehow see Anna Karenina in that painting huh?" She played with him now, but he was right of course. Of course he was right. He had always seen through the layers of her work. He looked at her paintings the same way he seemed to look at her. But how? She wondered.

"Well, the woman could be any sexually confident woman, right?" He started to explain as he held up his Scotch tumbler towards the ceiling high above them. "She is completely comfortable in her own skin...but there is absolutely nothing that defines her other than her need to burst through the top of our firmly constructed roof...but then look towards her ankle at the swirl of tattoos that you gave her, you can see the jumbled Russian script for 'War and Peace' and also, unless I'm mistaken, the disappearing mottling of the Suppedaneum cross along her inner thigh...isn't that right?" It was like someone had given him the playbook behind all of Jade's secret maneuvers. She felt like he was constantly outflanking her or meeting her right in the middle of her most ingenious machinations.

No one was supposed to understand who was represented by this powerfully sexy female spanning the ceiling of the executive floor...and yet...

"How did you..." she started, but he cut her off.

"There aren't many attractive Byzantine female protagonists out there in the world. I just assumed that if she was trying to bring a little chaos to our office and if her body offered little hints of the Russian Orthodoxy...that perhaps you might've dipped into some Tolstoy to shake the dust off of our executive ceiling. Stop me if I'm getting cold." He said as he smiled at her. He was not getting cold.

He was warm. He was very, very warm.

"You're not cold at all," she said as she clinked her Champagne flute against his snifter. "In fact, you're pretty hot." She turned to look up at the adulterous lady above them as she tried not to smile too much at her obvious insinuation.

"So, I have to ask...what exactly are you dressed as? I mean, I don't think anyone in the office is complaining, I'm just a little stumped is all," he said as she finished her Champagne and he grabbed her another one as a penguin skated by behind them.

"Well, I'm clearly a Christmas Holiday Nymph," she wanted so badly to add an 'O' to the end of that word for him, that her mouth immediately made that shape as she finished the word. He offered her his hand and she took it as he slowly spun her around. She did a sexy little saunter for him to the R&B tune that jazzed up the room. Her ass stood out prominently from under the tiny green skirt and her curves sparkled from all the beading and shimmery paint she had covered herself in. She looked like frosted sex, or, even, a Midwinter Night's Wet Dream.

Malcolm hated to admit it, but he was suddenly feeling quite glad that his wife had opted to attend an art lecture that night, even though he had begged her to come to his favorite party of the year. She'd grown tired of the shenanigans and a local university lecturer would be doing a 'Ted Talk' on a favorite Jackson Pollock that she admired. And so Mr. Dominus attended stag as he openly ogled the young paintbrush prodigy.

He felt his cock twitch a little as he saw for the first time the delicious ass that Jade had been hiding beneath her work overalls. It was the kind of ass that made any red-blooded male immediately wish that they could press their face into it and say a thankful prayer to Aphrodite.

Jade did not miss this as his eyes did their best to untie the small knot on the side of her tiny, green skirt.

They began to talk about the party and he explained why his wife had chosen not to attend. Jade didn't mind at all.

"What about you? No Count Karenin's accompanying you this evening?" He asked as he stared into the girls' dangerous green eyes.

"No, I'm not easily swayed," she said, even as she felt the Champagne buzz begin to sway her body a little more to the music, "but I'm always on the market for a Count Vronsky," she finished her thought, as she gave her boss a suggestive look and sipped her bubbly.

He didn't miss the double entendre but he highly doubted she was in any way hitting on him. She was much younger and there were scores of ambitious men at the party that night that she could probably easily bed if she chose to do so. Plus, he was married, and he loved his wife...right? She was such an admirably stoic woman. Right? Yes. Right. Of course. Right.

The pair soon separated and Jade eventually found her way back to Danielle who had scooped up a couple of fairly attractive editors for them to dance with. They schmoozed the night away on booze and tapas and Jade was feeling the most amazing buzz. She sparkled like her wine.

At some point a cute Santa's Helper got up on the microphone and announced that Santa's Workshop would soon be open soon. Employees were encouraged to visit Santa and make whatever requests they might have of him.

The Santa house was constructed right off to the far end of the main dance floor of the upper-executive wing. You would enter on the one side and then leave from a separate door after you were done.

A line soon formed and the drunken partiers of the company soon streamed in and out of the little cottage on the far side of the main party arena.

Jade could hear people passing by and marveling at what "Santa" had granted them this year. Very few requests were ever turned down. The employees seemed to have a good sense of what to ask for and what would be considered a little too extreme and they gladly stretched Malcolm's holiday charity to its max capacity.

"So...are you gonna go and ask Santa for something?" Danielle had asked her as the line began to dwindle in the late hours of the night. She had caught Jade staring at the far end of the room where the temporary Santa's workshop was all lit up in festive lights and garland.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Jade beamed back at her friend. "What did you ask for?"

"Oh my God, get this: I asked him for this fancy, ergonomic office chair I've been eyeing for the last few months and he said yes without having to think twice. It's an 800 dollar chair!" Danielle giggled. She was most certainly drunk and feeling quite serene at that very moment.

"I think I'll go right now," Jade said suddenly as she just couldn't wait anymore.

"What are you going to ask for?" Danielle called to her friend as she was walking away.

Jade looked back at her and innocently shrugged her shoulders as she grabbed one more glass of the magnificent Champagne from a nearby waiter and continued on.

She turned back to Danielle as she walked, "I dunno, probably some nicer paint brushes or something," she said it in the most 'oh shucks' sort of way. Danielle just shook her head as she smiled at her friend's pretend-innocence. She knew it was a lie. Neither girl was a very good intoxicated poker player, apparently.

By the time Jade had made it over to the line, it appeared as though she was the last person yet to have gone. The process actually went fairly quickly due to the fact that some entire departments would send one representative if there was something particularly large their wing of the building needed. For that reason there were fewer isolated requests by employees. This was an understood tradition by all involved.

Jade felt amazing as she waited at the back of the small line. She was fairly drunk and also feeling very sexy and seductive. The good monk's Champagne that she had been slogging all night had lowered any semblance of inhibition she might typically be carrying with her (and she had very few at that). She felt her pussy suddenly tingle below her skirt as she walked over a small air vent on the floor. This was mostly due to the fact that she wasn't actually wearing any underwear under that tiny green skirt. This had been a very conscious decision on her part and it made for what she felt was quite a devastating weapon in her arsenal.

When it was finally Jade's turn to go into the workshop, a helpful, blonde girl dressed as an elf informed her that she was the very last boy or girl to talk to Santa that night. How fun! As she entered through the Santa's Workshop doorway, the girl latched a velvet rope behind her and turned over a sign that read, "Santa Has Gone to Bed for the Night. Merry Christmas Dominus Publishing!"

Malcolm's heart skipped a beat when he saw his last employee walk into the workshop. All night long he had wondered if the stupidly sexy little painter would find time to come and make a request from him. He was thrilled when she arrived.

"Ho, Ho, Ho! Come in, sweet girl, come in!" He said in a comically deep baritone as he padded a large velvet bench that extended out from his comfy green chair in the middle of the workshop. Behind them a fake fireplace blew air through red and orange fabrics. It was kitschy as fuck and she couldn't help but love. He clearly had a joy for life.

Jade climbed up onto the bench next to Santa and crossed her very naked, sheer-tighted legs in front of him as her mini skirt rode up short below her as she sat. It was shorter than a high school cheerleading skirt. She sipped from her Champagne as she scooted as close to him in his chair as she could on the adjacent seating.

"Hi Santa!" She beamed, obviously playing along with his silly character work like she was an excited little girl come to ask for a pony.

"Let's see here," Malcolm started as he took out a long scroll that was stashed beside his chair. It had huge names written out in green and red script. "A Ms. Jade Everett, do I have that right?" He said, never breaking from his cheesy character.

"That's me, Santa," she said, as she attempted to access the most Marilyn Monroe-esque tone of voice that she could.

"Well it says here that you've been a very good girl this year!" He said, repeating the line that he used all night long with his employees.

Jade looked at him in mock surprise. "REALLY??" She responded, "I don't know about that..."

"Is that not right?" Malcolm asked, a little of his own excited voice slipping into that sentence.

"No...I've actually been rather naughty come to think of it," she said, as her other hand ran up and own the outside of the Champagne flute. She once again crossed her deliciously creamy legs in front of him, inadvertently lifting up her skirt to the tops of her thighs now.

"Oh?" Malcolm responded, breaking his character voice completely now, "well, whatever do you mean? What could you have done that could possibly be so naughty?" He asked, suddenly being pulled along into her very dangerous game.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, but this is NOT how you're supposed to visit with Santa!" She said suddenly, as she put her Champagne flute on the carpet in front of him and climbed up on his big, comfy armchair. He tried to say something but he was too mesmerized by her complete sexual presence and soft, supple skin as she climbed up and sat with her butt on his left leg, her legs dangling in the middle of his. She placed her arms around his neck as she continued her magical visit.

"Sorry, but I'm a Christmas traditionalist and girl needs to sit on Santa's lap if she's going to admit to her naughtiest secrets," she said to him, as she smiled at his attractively serious face. He could smell her Champagne breath and her Juicy Couture perfume that drifted from her breasts and neck as she spoke. She was a gypsy and he was being pulled in slowly, even if he didn't fully realize that the curse was already setting in.

"Ahh, but of course, I should've invited you to sit on my lap right away," he said, shamelessly flirting now with this curvy nymph with her ass pushing against his thigh. "So, as you were saying?"

"Oh, right, well, here's the thing...I've actually been really naughty this year. I haven't been very well behaved at all...so I'm not sure that I actually deserve anything but coal in my stocking." Everything she said was done so with the seductive power of a Medusa mixed with the pout of a spoiled daughter.

He loved the way she felt up against him...and the way her small waist fit in his hands.

"Well, look," he said, as he lowered his voice a little and spoke closer to her ear as she turned to listen to him. "Even naughty, little girls deserve to be given whatever they have coming to them." He was so turned on—he started to feel his cock harden in his Santa pants. "So why don't you just tell Santa why it is you think you've been so naughty this year, and he can be the judge of that?"