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Third Place “Holiday Hijinks” Competition.

Fifteen Shopping Days 'Till Christmas

Santa's hand slipped up the inside of my thigh. He had taken off his wooly mittens so he could caress the skin; my pussy pulsed into a low throb. But, just before he reached the apex--and with an enormous effort on my part--I moved a step away. I pretended to straighten an ornament on the fake Christmas tree.

"Knock it off, Saint Nick," I said in a low, indulgent tone. "We still have four more hours on our shift."

Mall Santa and elf.

He groaned, the sexy bastard. Well-built, athletic, and adventurous at sixty-seven. Forty-five years in age difference between us and I could barely keep my hands off of him. He had me at the point where the smell of his sweat mixed with Ben-gay was a turn on, for Christ sake.

The truth is, he was hung like a reindeer. If a man can give you four hard orgasms in a row, you'll call his dick the "South Pole" when he asks. Trust me on that.

He leaned towards me so he could talk in a low voice, too. "Did you wear the panties you were telling me about?"

I tossed a smirk over my shoulder at him. Of course I did. I was in the curled pig-tails he'd asked for and had put glitter on my cheeks, too. We'd been fucking in his truck after our shifts for a week now. A truck with a red glowing nose strapped to the front grill. Always in our costumes. He had a role-playing thing.

"The little red satin thong? With the green Christmas bow in front and back?" I asked sweetly.

His cheeks got rosier. "Did you?"

I gave a quick look around. It was three o'clock on a Wednesday, still two weeks before Christmas and the photographer was on break. I waited for a lull in the mall foot traffic and bent over at the waist until my red velvet, cotton-puff-edged, mini-skirt sneaked over my bum. Then, I quickly stood before I was noticed.

I heard his intake of breath. "That is a fine view," he said in a gruff voice.

"Did you see the panties?"

"I saw that they were wet. Come sit in my lap, little girl."

I didn't sit in his lap; I sat on the arm of his huge, velvet chair. We hadn't had a customer in over three hours but we were still right in the middle of the mall. We had an enormous display behind us in cardboard and Styrofoam: Santa's Workshop and an oversized model train running in a loop. It wasn't like we were low profile.

Nonetheless, I couldn't deny that I was hot for him. He just fucked so well. Last night he put a candy cane in my ass while he tongued my pussy. Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it. He had me seeing sugarplums.

His fingers played on the skin of my upper thigh and I seeped more into my panties. I throbbed harder, too. I couldn't stop thinking about how we'd make that truck jump in four hours and how long that four hours was going to feel.

It was like he could read my mind.

"Want to try something?" he asked me with a twinkle in his eye.

"Something naughty?" I asked.

"Oh, very. There may be coal up your ass later."


He took my hand and led me around the elaborate Santa's Workshop display. It was bright, pretty, and covered in simulated snow. During the non-December months, it was folded up and stored in the mall warehouse.

One of the cardboard doors did swing open so that someone could work under it when it was assembled. Santa pushed it open for me and I gave him a mischievous smile before I hurried inside.

We had to slouch to not bump our heads on the ceiling. But there was plenty of room to move around as long as we stayed low and didn't touch the walls.

"Show me those panties again, Little Girl," he whispered.

I bent over at the waist again; this time, I spread my legs, leaned over until my head was between my knees, and flipped the hem of my short skirt up. He steadied me with his hands on my hips and his mouth went straight to my covered pussy, biting at me through the material. A small moan slipped out of me. He pushed the satin aside and licked at me bare like I was candy.

Santa was good with his tongue. Before long, my knees were jelly. When he stopped, we didn't have to talk. I got onto my back on the cold terrazzo and he opened his belt, pushing my legs back to my ears. He had that Christmas cock inside me as soon as he could get it unwrapped.

He held my ankles and really went to work. He went so hard, one of my elf shoes fell off. I noticed that the little sleigh bells on his coat set up a noisy rhythm. We sounded like Christmas ponies fucking. Luckily, he was thrusting to the rhythm and tempo of Sleigh Ride, which was playing on the tinny mall speakers. Unless someone was very close, they would think it was part of the music.

Soon, though, I stopped thinking of jingle bells and Christmas carols. His thick, meaty dick made it all go away. I was climbing to a very nice orgasm made even nicer by the thought that nothing but corrugated cardboard separated us from the general public. My pelvis lifted to meet his thrust.

Then, his thumb slipped over the sole of my one bare foot.

It was a little movement but I'm very, very ticklish. It made me clench and I had to cover my lips to stifle a giggle. I glanced up; Santa wore an expression of surprised bliss. Slowly, ever so slowly, he thrust in and out, deep, bringing me closer. Just as slowly, he ran a soft thumb in a circle on the bottom of my foot.

My pelvis clenched in response. It did something very, very nice to my climbing orgasm. It must have been doing something for him too, because his apple cheeks were cherry red. He knocked off my other shoe, held each of my feet around the arch, and caressed the sole of my foot where his fingers met.

I thought I was going to lose my mind. It was all I could do not to writhe. I would have made him stop if it didn't feel so surprisingly good. My orgasm was climbing to a level even his kinky shit hadn't manage to achieve yet. I noticed that he started tickling to the same rhythm as his thrust. I bit my hand as the strongest orgasm of my life crashed over me.

That's when the old horndog decided to give me an extra-hard tickle.

I don't know if he underestimated my ticklishness or my strength. Either way, my foot came out of his grip in a Jackie Chan-style kick. Its impact with the flimsy wall seemed to make a comically loud sound. While my orgasm insisted on its completion, I watched the neat box around me go trapezoidal in slow-motion.

Santa looked up just as I felt him tighten.

His pleasure panting took on an edge of concern. "Oh... oh...oh, shit."

The collapse of the cardboard workshop ruined his orgasm and made mine seem increasingly less appropriate. The good thing was that it fell over us, covering us completely. The bad thing was that huge sheets of corrugated cardboard are heavy.

We struggled to untangle from one another and then to reassemble our costumes without letting the gathering crowd see what we were doing. We must have succeeded because there was applause when we both crawled from the papery wreckage.

A man in a business suit hurried over to us. His nametag identified him as mall management.

"What happened?" he demanded.

I couldn't seem to speak. Luckily, Santa's tongue was good for more than one thing.

"There was a flap of cardboard loose in the workshop ceiling," he lied smoothly. "We were seeing if we could fix it from the inside, but I guess it made the structure unstable. You're lucky nobody was hurt."

The manager's face reddened.

"I'm going to take this young lady for a hot cocoa while you get this fixed up," Santa continued. "She's had quite the scare."

He put an arm around me and led me away. I glanced over my shoulder at the lingering crowd, the toppled display, and the still-settling cloud of glitter. The mall manager's face was nearly the same shade as the plush, red velvet throne where Santa sat.

When we were out of earshot, the old coot whispered to me, "What do you say? We'll get our whipped cream on the side and go out to my truck. It'll take them at least a half hour to get that display back up."

After all that, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson. But, no. My pussy took on an eager pulse that nearly made me squirm. There was just something about the twinkle in his eye that I couldn't resist.

I tossed my pig-tails and cooed softly, "Oh Santa, I'd do just about anything to get on your 'nice' list."

"Really? Because there's still fifteen shopping days until Christmas."

His lips drew up like a bow. I smiled back.

"We don't really need that cocoa," I told him, leading him to the mall exit.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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