Alrighty, here is my entry into the Sookie’s Secret Santa Fic Exchange 2013. Mine was a gift for the lovely FangbangerLayla. And this little ditty was the brainchild of my husband, funnily enough. He gave me the bare bones, I wrote around them. ;o) After the story, keep reading for another note.
Summary: Godric ropes Eric into playing Santa on Christmas Eve. However, he leaves out one tiny detail…
“Why do I let you talk me into these things, Godric?”
Godric chuckled at the groan I let out.
“Because you love me and because it’s for a good cause,” he laughed as I grunted. Seriously, these suits weren’t designed for someone of my height.
“Maybe I could be a southern Santa? This suit is going to make me sweat to death before I even get there! And, it’s way too tight in most places. I’m going to scar the kids for life, like this!”
I pulled the curtain open and shuffled slowly out, fidgeting the entire way. My balls felt like they were in a vice and I dipped down into a semi squat to try and finagle a teeny bit more room in these ridiculous pants. Nope-not happening.
“You look perfect,” Godric clapped his hands lightly together. “Okay, you’ll go to the Eldorado tonight at 8. Go to the front desk and ask for Mr. Pardloe. He’ll give you more directions from there. Get out of the suit and I’ll have it waiting for you there.”
“Dear lord, I hate you!”
x . x . x . x . x
“Uh-yeah, hi. I’m-uh…looking for Mr. Pardloe…” I trailed off as I leaned over the check in desk slightly.
“Ah, yes. Mr. Northman, correct?” the concierge, Barry by his nametag, smiled warmly at me, eyes running up and down my body while I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Oh yes, I can see why they hired you. Come along. I’ll get you settled in and notify Mr. Pardloe that you’ve arrived. Ginger! Come here and man the desk, please!”
He led me through some back hallways and into a dressing room with a hastily scrawled ‘North Pole’ sign on the door.
“I’ll just go let Mr. Pardloe know that you’re here. You’re suit is hanging behind the partition there,” Barry motioned to a screen in the corner and I sighed.
I waited. And waited and waited. Since I wasn’t exactly sure why I was doing this and had absolutely no way to back out, I waited some more. Thank God I had my iPad…Fruit Ninja to the rescue. I was just about to beat my top score when a loud bang sounded on the door and I tossed the tablet onto my lap.
“Hello, my darling!” I know my face showed my shock as the man came bustling into the room.
This man-Mr. Pardloe-was…a character. That’s a polite way to put it. He wore bright red slacks with a red and white striped shirt under a holly green crushed velvet jacket. He’d managed to attach bells to his loafers, causing him to jingle with every move he made. Oh, and lest I forget the bright red Santa hat with the bell on the end. I had never seen a more…Christmasy outfit in my life.
“Mr. Northman! Thank you so much for doing this! I just know you’re going to raise us a lot of money,” I fidgeted uncomfortably again as his eyes roved over my suddenly much too uncovered, yet still fully clothed, body.
“It’s my pleasure. Godric told me it was for charity, but didn’t tell me which charity…” his booming laughter stopped my train of thought.
“He didn’t tell you?!? Oh that is priceless! That wiley rascal! Well, I’ll just send Claude in to help you get dressed and then you’ll be all ready. Alright, darling?”
And with a jingle and a blur of green and red, Mr. Pardloe went back to wherever he’d come from, leaving me by myself in the dressing room once more.
A thought struck me as I stood, preparing to change into that horrendous costume-why would I need help getting dressed?
My answer came as I was pulling my shirt over my head. A wolf whistle sounded, startling me enough so that I stumbled into the room divider, knocking it over and paralyzing me in my tracks.
I spun around slowly.
“You must be Claude,” if my voice was a little chillier than normal, well-I’d just been caught half undressed by a stranger who was salivating over my abs. Sue me.
“That I am, handsome. That I am. Let’s get you all set up, Santa. I’ve been a naughty boy and definitely need to be punished,” he bit his lip as he stalked toward me, hand on his massively oversized belt buckle.
“Uh, thanks. But I think I can change by myself. I am a grown up, after all,” I chuckled at his over the top flamboyance.
“Au contraire, mon ami. You most definitely need my help,” he bit his lip again as he cocked his head to the side. “Ughf!”
The next twenty minutes were a whirlwind of horrendously uncomfortable and invasive primping.
First he’d stripped me down to my boxers, which I was glad I took the time to grab this morning. After flinging a teeny thong in my direction and shoving me unceremoniously behind the screen, he’d begun setting out my Santa outfit.
“Why do I need a thong?! Isn’t that against some kind of ethical code or something? I mean, I know the kids won’t see it, but still-I’m not too keen on having floss jammed up my ass!”
The chuckle Claude let out made me wary. “Oh hunny buns-” I stepped out from behind the screen, carefully shielding my more than considerable package, “Unghf-and I do mean hunny BUNS! Oh, come to Papa!”
I glared as he salivated over my ass.
“Oh, yes. Anyway-believe me you will definitely need the thong. Makes things so much easier,” his eyes gleamed wickedly as he handed me the pants. I scrambled to pull them up as he leered at me.
Okay, so maybe he had a point. Since these things were so goddamned tight, it would at least make it less…lumpy than boxers would have.
“Okay I concede your point on the thong,” I shifted to the side as the damn thing rode up my asscrack. “-mostly.”
“Aw, sugar I knew you’d see my side of things!”
Without any warning whatsoever, Claude bounced down into a crouch behind me and yanked me even closer to him.
“What the fuck, man?!?”
“Oh hush,” he admonished lightly as he began patting my ass with something concealed under his knees. I craned my neck trying to see what he was dusting me with.
“Dude! I think that’s a little much! What is this, baby powder? I’m not gonna sweat that much!”
He chuckled as he stood up quickly. “Yup. Baby powder. Yeah, that’s exactly what it is.”
I stared at him in disbelief. But he quickly clapped his hands and practically dove on me as he wrestled me into the pants and jacket-conveniently “forgetting” to hand me the shirt-before clamping the belt around my waist while paying no mind at all to my indignant sputters. He grabbed my hand, caressing my palm as he did, then yanked me towards the door.
“But-wait! I need-”
“Nope, no you don’t. You’re perfect! Let’s go!”
Good lord he was stronger than he looked! He yanked me unceremoniously out of the room and through the back hallways, giggling all the way.
We passed a few other guys, mostly half dressed elves from what I could see, as he hurried me along, still trying to contain his giggles.
“Alright sweet cheeks!” he sighed once more as he ducked his head behind me, probably taking another gander at my snugly encased sweet cheeks. “You just go on out there and shake what your mama gave you!”
Suddenly I had a very bad feeling about this. Claude’s strong grip shoved me forward through a red velvet curtain (though not before copping a feel of my ass).
I was immediately assaulted by blinding lights and hysterical cheering.
I knew I looked like a deer in the headlights.
There were six guys in thongs and elf shoes prancing around the stage I’d been shoved out on, all headed my way.
“And heeeeeeeeerrrrrrreee’s Santa!”
How I recognized Mr. Pardloe’s voice over the chaos around me, I’ll never know. What I did know was that I was going to have a Godric-skinned rug in front my fireplace as soon as I could track him down. Knowing him, he’d be hiding for awhile.
The “elves”, if they qualified since the only elfish part about them was their shoes, grabbed my hands and steered me to the front edge of the raised platform acting as a stage. I smiled uncertainly as I began shifting from foot to foot, trying to graciously make my way off the stage.
Mr. Pardloe’s voice boomed around me, spurring me into motion. “Come on, sexy! Show us what you’re working with!”
Seeing there was no escape, I took a deep breath and said a silent prayer not to humiliate myself. I reluctantly began moving slowly to the beat of…Lady GaGa?
“Oh look at that candy cane he’s got in his pants!”
“I’d like to go south on his North Pole!”
Oh dear lord! Drunk gay men seemed to have the most creative quips for yelling at terrified mock-strippers. I began loosening up, marginal though it was, as I resigned myself to the fact that at least the money currently raining down on me would be helping a worthy organization as I caught sight of the bright blue banner over the bar. As Paparazzi blared through the speakers I shook and shimmied my way to the edge of the stage, giving as good of a performance as I could, flushing with each new festive-yet obscene-heckle. Why Godric thought that me dancing for a bunch of liquored up gay men on Christmas Eve was a good idea I’ll never know.
That’s when I saw her. I faltered in my dance steps, slipping in the ever growing pile of dollar bills, as she delivered a drink to the table directly in front of me. Her tiny elf costume barely covered her flawless figure, the top coming to rest just under her bust and the skirt low enough that I wondered exactly what cut of panties wouldn’t be showing. Her curvy body was sinful in it’s perfection and her blonde hair, so close in color to my own, shone like she had diamonds in it.
Suddenly I became aware of how much trouble I was really in as my cock twitched and the crowd went even wilder. Her eyes found mine, widening fractionally, before she cocked a sexy little smirk and winked at me before turning to return to the bar. Her perfect plump ass shook and shimmied as she bounced on her toes, waiting for her next drink. She flipped her hair teasingly over her shoulder, casting her eyes back at me. A saucy leer took over her face as her eyes once again scanned me up and down.
Then I was rudely shoved back into reality as another, much less curvy and yet still somehow femininely pretty, elf decided to get me back on track-by ripping off my Santa coat. Was that velcro on the seams?!?
“I’ll guide your sleigh tonight, Santa baby!”
“Ooo honey, he is hung like a reindeer!”
Flabbergasted, I froze. Until that vixen in her elf costume danced her way back to the front, brandishing a five dollar bill at me. I jump started my hips once again and dipped down so she could secure the money in my pants.
“Hey, Santa. I’ve been a naughty, NAUGHTY girl. Think you’ll have time for me later?” she licked her lips as she reached a finger further into my pants, skimming over the V of my hips. I shuddered involuntarily.
“Well,” I gulped, “I do need to make sure that you know the requirements for the nice list next year. Consider it a date.”
“Good thing. I wanna make sure I get a ride on your sleigh tonight,” her eyebrow raised slightly as she bit her lip, moaning slightly. With a shake of her head she wagged her finger at me, sending me back to my duties as resident bad Santa.
Getting into the music and wanting to put on a good show for my goddess, I began shaking my ass to a remixed version of Clarence Carter’s “Back Door Santa”. Rolling my eyes internally, I began teasing the huddled masses with teasing glimpses of my hips.
The girl, always in my line of vision, kept licking her lips as she carted drinks back and forth. Her pert ass swayed and dipped almost as much as mine as she fetched drinks and her breasts, which looked like more than a good handful, bounced merrily with every step she took. I had to fight for every ounce of concentration in order to not fall right off that stage every time her eyes caught mine.
“Come on baby! Show me that money maker!”
“Those jingle balls look like they’d be a mouthful!”
My attention returned to the horny gay men clamouring for a piece of me. I had to laugh at some of the things they decided to shout, knowing that in their sober mindsets they’d probably be mortified.
“Oh, hunny child! I wants a taste of your eggnog, hot stuff!”
I squinted, recognizing the voice. Yeah, Lafayette was one who would definitely NOT be embarrassed come morning. Although I was about to die of embarrassment, seeing one of my best clients in the audience, salivating over my body.
I spun around quickly, trying to hide for a moment, shaking my ass the entire time. I faltered as a new song came on with a harder beat.
“Come on Santa! Take off your gay apparel!”
I sighed again as I gripped the waistband of the pants, praying they’d been altered the same way as the jacket. Otherwise they’d be getting a much different show-ya know, as I writhed around cupping my balls in pain.
With a deep breath, I yanked hard, feeling the fabric breakaway (Hallelujah!). I knew my face was flushed as I bopped my hip along to the newest song, a hard rock ditty apparently called Sexy Santa.
I shook and shimmied, flexing my ass as I turned and dipped, carefully avoiding the ever growing piles of money. My eyes jumped around searching for the girl who was giving me all the motivation for my dance, while I’m sure my face was a spectacular shade of ruby.
As the song blared about having ‘hoe-hoe-hoes lickin’ eggnog’ from my ‘firehose’, I barked out a laugh, doubling over momentarily. That got the gathered gays all riled up. Although it took me a minute to realize why….
“Oh hell yeah baby!”
“I wanna drive that stick shift!”
“Ahhhhhh! Oh yeah baby! He’s showing brain!”
I kept shaking and dipping, wondering what they were talking about. My brain was definitely not showing. In fact, this whole debacle was entirely NOT cerebral in any way.
My goddess delivered another drink to the table directly in front of the stage and when she glanced my way, her eyes shot open wide and I could see her face flush from where I was. She motioned me over to her frantically and I knelt down, bouncing on my heels as I bent my head to her.
“You’re-uh…showing brain, Santa,” her throat bounced sexily as she gulped, even though she kept her eyes firmly situated above my neck. I found myself mesmerized at the motion, though I shook my head quickly, trying to clear it.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?!? What the hell does that mean?”
Her eyes darted to my groin and I followed her eyes, horrified as I saw my left ball hanging out of the miniscule thong.
“Oh shit!” I jumped up and turned my back to the audience, causing another round of cheering as they caught a glimpse of my gym sculpted backside.
I began trying to stuff my goods back in the scrap of fabric only to have the right ball promptly escape it’s confines as well. I hung my head, catching sight of my legs in the flashing lights (glitter?!? So that’s what Claude was dusting me with!) before I heard someone scramble onto the stage behind me. I felt an empty wrapped cardboard box shoved in my hands, conveniently shielding my wayward genitals.
Two guys in the front wearing antlers on headbands elbowed each other, shouting over the music.
“Dude! What do you want for Christmas?!?”
“Every holiday I want THAT dick in a box!”
“Alright, you vultures! Chill the ‘ef out! I think Santa needs a break before he comes out so y’all can sit on his lap,” my tiny blonde savior steered me back into the hallways, while I tried (unsuccessfully, might I add) to cover myself the entire way.
“Here ya go. All back to the North Pole,” she giggled melodiously as we came back to my dressing room.
“Please-stay!” my voice was slightly higher pitched than normal, owing to the vast amounts of embarrassment coursing through my veins.
I sank into the lone chair situated in the room, bending to put my head on my knees.
“I’m going to kill Godric. He’s getting a shank in the back for Christmas,” I mumbled. I felt so pathetic.
But I felt something else entirely as she put her hand gently on my back.
She began rubbing her hands over my shoulders, kneading the muscles into relaxation. “Well, Santa-”
“Eric. Call me Eric.”
“Alright…Eric,” the sound of my name on her lips was the sexiest thing I could ever recall hearing. She sauntered around me, never letting her hands leave my skin, “I’ve been a naughty little elf. Am I getting a lump of coal in my stocking?”
I smirked, forgetting my near nakedness and feeling better already as my dick rose to her taunting jibes. My hands gravitated to her waist and I yanked her down onto my lap.
“Well, little elf-”
“Sookie. My name…is Sookie,” she whispered in my ear, tickling my stomach with the ends of her bouncy hair, making me shiver in delight.
“Well,” I growled out, “Sookie. How have you been naughty?” I rested my hands lightly on her thighs, rubbing small circles with my thumbs.
She leaned back and ran her hands down her sides, cupping her breasts and letting them bounce as she let go. Her fingers, tipped with candy cane red polish, skimmed her stomach, lingering over her slightly pronounced hipbone. She moaned lightly and threw her head back.
I nearly choked as she sensually ran her hands around her own body, skimming the fabric of her miniscule skirt (if it could be called that at all) up her thighs. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head with her next words.
“Well, I’ve touched myself in naughty places. I’ve plunged my dainty little fingers into my hot, soaking wet pussy. Plunged them in and out, making me scream with pleasure. And, especially tonight, I’ve had such dirty, dirty thoughts…” she gasped as her hands pulled the knot of her teeny top, letting it fall into the space between us, baring her magnificent breasts to my eyes.
My breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t a virgin-hadn’t been one for many, many years-but suddenly my mouth went dry and my cock tested the already limited capacity of the thong.
“What, uh…what kind of thoughts have you had?” I asked as I resolutely kept my hands on her hips, unwilling to venture any further until I had an invitation.
She plucked her perky pink nipples and groaned throatily. I growled low in my throat, the sound vibrating through my chest, as she tested the limits of my restraint.
“I’ve thought about your hard, chiseled abs. I’ve thought about them scraping roughly against my breasts as I writhe underneath you. I’ve thought about that tight, sexy ass-pumping up and down and up and down. I’ve thought about those full, sensual lips caressing my skin, down my throat, sucking on that one tiny spot behind my ear that always makes me go insane,” she dragged her breasts down my chest, grabbing my hands in hers. My hands dwarfed her tiny ones before she placed them both firmly on her chest.
Balls aching and cock twitching, I ground my teeth trying to contain myself.
Her lips found my pulse point in my neck, sucking lightly before she made her way up to my earlobe, pulling it slightly with her pearly white teeth. I felt her hot breath ghost over my cheek as she pulled back to gaze at me through hooded eyes. “So, Santa…have I been naughty?”
Okay, so when FangbangerLayla asked for “humorous references to cocks and vaginas” and someone “showing brain”, i just knew I’d have to do some digging for pervy Christmas stuff. So I went and found this and dude-gold mine! The songs I referenced above are real (!!!!) and hilarious to boot.
Here is the link to Backdoor Santa by Clarence Carter and here is the link to Sexy Santa by Steel Panther. I kid you not, my munchkins thought I’d died laughing at one point. Seriously go check them out. You won’t regret it. :o)