A Most Promising Christmas

Sheila flipped down the passenger side visor mirror as her best friend Pamela swerved violently into a parking space at the crowded shopping mall, cutting off another driver who also wanted the space, and nearly smashing into the car on Sheila's side. 'Hey, watch it! You almost made me lose an ear," she yelped, readjusting the fake plastic elf ear which peaked out under a green and red jingle-bell felt hat. "Chill Out," Pamela retorted, opening her door and sliding out of the car. "It's almost Christmas, cut me some slack!"

The two friends snuggled up in their winter coats, burrowing their chins down into their mufflers, and headed for the entrance nearest them. "Brrrrr!" they chimed as one as they stepped into the relative warmth of the large interior space. "See you later - break a leg, Elf-Girl!" Pamela said, surging ahead of her friend into the crowd of holiday shoppers and disappearing from view somewhere in the vicinity of Macy's.

Sheila started off in the opposite direction, following the candy-cane-festooned signs pointing the way to Santa's Magic Kingdom. As she walked she shucked off her coat, revealing the colorful and very feminine elf costume she wore. "Hi ho, it's off to work I go," she chuckled, carefully weaving her way through the growing throng of parents with their children who waited to sit on Santa's lap this year. She loved helping out as a mall volunteer this time of year. Everyone was so...happy. It was infectious. It helped keep her mind off her abysmal sex life. "Who am I kidding?" she thought." What sex life?" Yes, it looked like this was going to be another Christmas without any hope or promise of her getting laid. Sheila had just broken up with her boyfriend and had sworn off men, again...sort of. "Hey, there's no harm looking!" she told herself.

As Sheila neared the still-closed red velvet ropes surrounding Santa's throne, she wondered who else had volunteered for this shift. Hers was a small town with only two high schools. Odds were she would know at least one other helper. Now at age 21, she was three years out of high school, having enrolled at the local community college where she lived an apartment off-campus with Pamela.

"Hey there," came a deeply pitched male voice behind her. "You're Sheila, aren't you?" Swiveling on her boot heel, Sheila turned to see an ordinary-looking guy about her own age, holding a clipboard and pen. She retrieved a distant memory and remembered that his name was Cliff or Biff or something. He'd been a bonafide nerd in high school - president of the chess club and such - whereas she had performed lead roles in school plays and hung out with the football crowd. After all, she was on the "A" squad of the cheerleading team.

He was very close to her in the milling crowd of Santa enthusiasts. "Yes, that's right," she spoke into his ear, so he could hear her. He inspected his clipboarded list and checked off her name. "Gotcha," he said. "My name's Frank. I'm playing Team Manager today. Welcome aboard, Elf Sheila! I think you know our Santa this year..." trailing off he stepped back carefully, avoiding any small children who might be underfoot, and gestured broadly toward the throne, now occupied by the Great Elf himself, S. Claus.

"C'mon, Sheila. I'll introduce you," Frank said, leading her up the low steps by her still-mittened hand. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" roared Santa. He inspected Sheila, nodded in approval, and motioned for her to lean in closer to him. Doing so, he looked first left and then right, and pulled his fake beard down so she could see his face - but only for a brief moment. The beard snapped back into place as Sheila exclaimed in surprise, "Mr. Bradford!" She clapped both hands over her mouth in complete surprise.

Handsome, manly Mr. Bradford it was, in the flesh: he had been her high school history teacher. She'd had a major crush on him back then, and she always suspected he wanted to teach her more than important dates in history, but she had no solid proof that such was the case. He was still such a hottie, she thought, "...built like a brick shithouse. Yeah, I'd fuck him." Like that would ever happen. Not in a million years, right? He wasn't married, but he was...older. You know.

Interrupting this pleasant train of thought, Frank appeared silently from behind her took her elbow and guided her to the brassy hook that held the velvet ropes together and kept the children out. "It's show time," he said under his breath. "You stay here and control the kids. Only let one family group in at a time." She nodded that she understood. Unhooking the rope and rehooking it to the other post, she announced ceremoniously, but elfishly, "Hey kids! Who wants to talk to Santa?" A small roar of approval went up as Sheila invited the first two kids with their mother inside Santa's Kingdom. Sheila's smile was as wide as the Mississippi River after a spring flood. She loved watching the joy of Christmas unfold around her!

Near the end of the team's four-hour shift Frank popped up out of nowhere again to say, "Hey, Elfie, five more minutes and we are out of here!" He smiled mischievously. Sheila was tired, but happy. Looking around, she didn't see her coat. Santa was finishing up with a small group of children and parents who had waited for him in line before Sheila closed the ropes.

Frank re-appeared from behind her once more. She wished he would stop doing that. It was becoming annoying. Nerd. "I put your coat in the store room we're supposed to use for our personal things. I'll take you there, if you like," he offered. She followed him down a nearby hallway to a nondescript, closed door.

Frank fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He held the door for her to enter. "Polite," she thought. "But still a nerd." Once inside, she saw that it was, in fact, a store room: small, cramped, and crowded with tall file cabinets, small desks and tables, all piled high with paperwork, books, and other media. There was even a small rolling office chair amongst all this clutter. This room was kept chilly to save energy. Frank had already flung a woolen cloak over his broad shoulders. Shivering, Sheila removed her elf ears and slipped them into the pockets of her elf pants. She spied her coat hanging from a hook by the door and reached both arms up for it.

Before she could raise her coat of its hook, Sheila was astonished to feel Frank's nimble hands reaching around her waist, pulling her back toward his chest. She stumbled a bit, and his hands steadied her. He breathed onto her neck, exhaling a lusty, warm breeze that was most arousing. All the hairs on Sheila's head stood up as one. "Sheila," he cooed in her ear, "I've always had the hots for you, but I was too shy in high school to do anything about it. Now I'm older and wiser..."

Sheila didn't know what to say or do. Frank's behavior seemed completely out of character. It was downright shocking. On the other hand...she regarded Frank as if for the first time. He was older. He'd lost the chubbiness in his cheeks and the weak, downy moustache he'd sported several years ago had matured into a thicker, well-groomed bristle brush. His features were more rugged, beginning to show the effects of life's travails. He was, she decided finally, handsome. But still nerdy. What to do?

"Lock the door," Sheila said.

Frank did so and then turned on Sheila, his cloak flaring as his body twirled around. He removed the books piled on the office chair and put them on the floor. Then he pushed her backwards, gently, but firmly, into the chair. He knelt down so his cloak flowed around them both like a warm cocoon. "Mmmm," Sheila said. This felt good. Then she felt his hands unzipping the back of the top of her elf costume. He whisked the garment away and set to unfastening her baggy elf pants, which he pulled down and over her boots, revealing her red-and-white striped candy-cane thigh-high stockings. Boots, stockings and elf hat were all she wore now. She shivered again, but not from the cool air around her.

Frank enveloped her in his cloak again, warding off the chill. He carefully placed each of her legs over an arm of the chair, opening her legs wide open. He leaned his entire body into hers, kissing and licking her throat and shoulders. Without further ado, he began nibbling on her rosy nipples, which hardened immediately with pleasure. "Ohhh," Sheila said. She leaned back in the chair, surrendering herself to this unexpected and unexpectedly erotic attention. Frank's hands roved around her breasts and belly, smoothing, prodding, pinching lightly, and teasing her relentlessly. He continued down to her furry muff and used his hands to part her labia. He inserted a finger between the folds of skin and grunted in satisfaction when he withdrew it, dripping wet with her sex juice. She was smoking hot! He sucked her cum from his own finger making a soft, slurping noise. Sheila was now completely turned on, a sex pistol. "Don't stop," Sheila said.

Frank renewed his efforts in her downy region. Using his fingers and tongue, he rubbed her clit around and around in slow, sensual circles, making her moan low and deep. Then he reached his hands up and played with her tits while he continued to lick out her sweet sweet pussy. Sheila began to thrust her hips in a fucking motion. Frank followed her, rhythmically rising and falling with her undulating hips.

It didn't take Sheila long to orgasm, wildly, violently. Her whole body shuddered and she bit her lips to keep from crying out. Frank stood up and stared down at her with a happy grin on his face. "I'm glad we had this little chat," he said. He wiped her stickiness from his mouth, then took her right hand, knelt, and kissed it. "Farewell, sexy Elf," he said, and left her alone and nearly naked in the store room.

Sheila was dazed, but in a very good way. Her whole body tingled and she didn't have the energy yet to remove her legs from the chair arms where they remained draped, exposing all her glory. The tops of her creamy thighs and her cunt were soaking wet, the edges caking with her own thick, gooey cum. Somehow, miraculously, the silly elf hat had clung onto her head. Sheila wrapped the cloak around her and thought dreamily about what had just happened.

After a few moments Sheila began to unhinge her legs from the chair arms when she heard the door knob start to turn. Someone was coming in! In a panic, Sheila struggled to rise out of the chair. The cloak fell away from her shoulders, making her shiver again. Before she could replace it, a large figure came through the now-open doorway, shutting the door behind him. Sheila recognized the plush red velour suit and pommeled hat with shiny black boots and matching belt: it was Mr. Bradford!

Sheila flushed beet red and fell back into the chair, her legs still spread wide. Mr. Bradford regarded her evenly and said smoothly, "Well, well, what has Santa's little helper been up to?" He locked the door behind him, unbuckled his belt, and let it slip to the floor. Sheila could see the outline of his rock-hard stiffie pressing through his Santa suit. He reached into his pants and pulled out his swollen cock. Stroking it rapidly, he directed it towards Sheila's wet, puffy, upturned mouth.

"This is turning into a most promising Christmas after all!" thought Sheila.