“Hey, Santa, how about letting me see your package?”

I was stunned. This kind of thing never happened to me. There I was, at the office party dressed as Santa, and the sexiest woman on the floor was hitting on me in the supply room. It made no sense. I was the sweet, safe, innocuous nebbish, not the office Don Juan. I was twenty years her senior. I was the one they always called and ‘nice’ and ‘helpful.’

“How about I unwrap you and see what’s inside?” she said as she smiled at me. “Maybe there are some jewels in there.”

Behind me were all the presents I was supposed to be getting ready to distribute. Behind her was the door. She turned around and locked it!

“I really should get out there,” I said. “They’re waiting for me.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to cum quickly, Baby,” she responded. And she walked up close, and I could smell her perfume. And she looked up into my eyes and leaned into me, and I could feel her breasts against my chest. And then her hands started to explore between my legs, and I didn’t give a damn about the party anymore. All I cared about was how good it felt to feel her gentle fingers caressing me.

“Want me to be your reindeer, Hon?” she asked. “You know, you don’t use saddles on reindeer. You ride them bareback.”

I was starting to sweat, and her touching was getting bolder and bolder.

“Reindeer have prongs, you know,” she went on. “But I heard that Santa has a prong too. A really big one! Can I see Santa’s prong, Baby?”

She had already unfastened the belt to my red pants. She gently placed her hand on my belly, above the waistband of my briefs, and just kept staring into my eyes. She started to slide her hand under the waistband and then paused.

“I always wondered,” she said. “Does Santa’s sleigh just slide and glide o.k. all by itself? Or do you have to lubricate it, Hon? Does Santa use lubrication to help things slide?”

I was breathing heavily. “Lube, no lube…at Santa’s age, he takes whatever he can get!” I replied.

She laughed. “I think Santa probably likes lube. Time to lubricate Santa’s runners.” I thought I was going to pass out.

She got down on her knees, and slowly lowered my pants. Then she kissed me through my briefs. Then she reached up, grabbed the waistband with one hand on each side of my hips, and slowly pulled my underpants down. I had my biggest erection in twenty years.

“Do elves ever do the lubricating, Hon?” she asked. “Does Santa like elves to do it, or just Mrs. Santa?”

“I’ve never had an elf do it,” I replied.

“Then this is Santa’s lucky day!” she said. “I’ll be your little elf. Elves are short, aren’t they, Hon? Like I am now, on my knees?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re at perfect elf height.”

“Then let’s see the runner, Baby. Ummmmmm……now I get to see Santa’s real package.”

And then I was in heaven. A skilled, soft, velvety mouth, a moist loving tongue, gentle hands, and a heavenly smooth throat did everything pleasurable that could possibly be done to a man. She would periodically look up at me as I gasped with pleasure, her hands caressing my hips and low back and buttocks or stroking and touching as she sucked and kissed and licked and made me squirm and moan .

She paused and looked up at me. “Can I ask you something, Santa?”

I caught my breath.

“Anything! I’ll tell you anything!” I gasped. “If you want to know where my fellow troops are I’ll draw you a 3D map and footnote it!”

She laughed again. “You’re funny. That’s a turn on.”

“Thank god for that!” I said to myself.

“Does Mrs. Santa like you to call her dirty names, Hon?”

I was a little shocked, but fortunately not enough to lose my erection.

“Dirty names? Uhhhh……no,” I said. “Mrs. Santa is kind of conventional that way. And isn’t that degrading, calling a woman dirty names?”

“You are so sweet,” she said. “Not if the woman asks for it, Baby. Elves love to be called dirty names. Didn’t you know that?” She winked at me. “And I am your little elf.”

“What do you want me to call you?” I asked.

She was a little annoyed at the question, but fortunately not completely put off.

“The dirtier the better, Hon. Tonight, I’m your little street ho bitch. Don’t be afraid to call me that, Baby.”

And I wasn’t. She gave me the greatest oral sex that a man could get, and I called her every ‘ho’ I could think of. She was my ‘fucking ho,’ my ‘slut ho,’ my ‘cock-sucking ho,’ my ‘cum-swallowing ho’ and a thousand others. And as she sensed the nearing of my climax, and performed perfectly timed sexual techniques with her magical mouth and heavenly tongue and soft hands, I shouted louder and louder. And I shouted as I exploded into her mouth with the greatest release of my entire life! She swallowed it all and kept on sucking and caressing and stroking and licking and kissing, gradually easing off in both frequency and intensity until I was completely dry and totally satisfied.

Then she lowly pulled my briefs back up, and then my pants. She buckled my belt, got up, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and said, “You’d better get out there, Hon.”

“My god,” I said. “That was unbelievable. Thank you so much! That was the most wonderful sexual experience of my life!”

“You’re quite welcome,” she replied.

“But what about you?” I asked. “Can’t I reciprocate? Don’t you want me to do anything for you?”

“Not necessary.” she replied. “You already did it.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant, and I didn’t want to look a gift ho in the mouth, but I had to ask something. “Please don’t get mad,” I said. “But why? Why me?”

Her brow furrowed, she stared at me for a few moments, and then explained. “Well don’t take this wrong, Hon,” she said, “but the girls had a pool. You are always so sweet and nice, we decided we should do something special for you this year for Christmas. I got the draw!”

My shoulders dropped; my eyes fell.

“Awwwww, don’t feel that way, Sweetie. Please! We did it because we like you.”

“Well, thank you again. It was a wonderful Christmas present,” I said. “By the way, what 
did you mean before when you said I had already done something for you?”

She looked at me very seriously. “Well, Baby, thanks to you, I learned two things tonight. First, it really can be nicer to give than receive. Isn’t it wonderful to really feel that way on Christmas?”

“I suppose so,” I said. "And what was the other thing?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Well, now I know why Santa always laughs in threes. When you came you yelled out ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’”

She smiled at me, turned, and headed for the door. Just before she opened it, she looked back and said, “Maybe I’ll be drawn again in next year’s pool!” She winked and left.

After she was gone, I smiled and said aloud for no one else to hear, “Ho! Ho! Ho!”