Subject: LOCKED IN LOVE by Beverly Rae
From: <Saved by Windows Internet Explorer 7>
Date: Sun, 11 Nov 2007 03:10:35 -0800

BEVERLY RAE’S FANTASIES

DECEMBER 2005  -  SHORT STORY

http://www.beverlyrae.com/
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Beverly_Rae_Fantasies/

SEX WITH SANTA - for readers 18 and over

“Who’s that playing Santa?”

Riza nudged her best friend, Brea, in the ribs to catch her imperceptible nod at the guy with the gorgeous body. His bare, long, lean, six-pack torso made the Santa pants he wore downright sexy. Black suspenders held up the too-big trousers, making Riza wish for a good pair of scissors. Black boots, boots she’d love to see next to her bed, completed his partial outfit.

“Wow. He’s a honey, huh?” Brea leaned on the checkout counter of The Party Palace, the small gift boutique where Brea worked every holiday season to earn extra cash, and gawked at him.

Being the newest seasonal employee, Riza wasn’t expected to dress up to perform at one of the many parties the store offered their customers. But maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t mind dressing up…and getting undressed…as Mrs. Clause. Not if Santa looked like the sexy man in front of her. How come she never saw him coming down her chimney? “Funny, I don’t remember this guy coming in. In fact, I thought the other one was here to play the part of Santa. You know, the average-looking guy.”

Riza glanced around the store, hunting the man she’d have sworn told her he was there to play Santa. He’d walked in only a few minutes earlier with a Santa suit thrown over his shoulders.

“You mean George?” Brea wiggled her fingers at the hunk who flashed her a brilliant, TV commercial smile.

“Yeah, that’s the one. What happened to him?” A jealous twinge struck her as she noticed the interaction between her friend and Santa. “Not that I mind the switch.”

“Beats me. George has always played our Santa. He even provides his own costume. You remember him, don't you? He hit on you last year when you dropped into the store.” Brea took Riza’s arm, pulling her attention to her. “Wait a sex, uh, sec.”

“Guess we know what’s on your mind.” Riza giggled even though the jealousy hadn’t let her go yet. “What?”

Brea stared at Santa. “Oh, my God. That is George.”

Riza shot her gaze back to Santa and studied his face. “No way.”  Still, his face was remarkably similar. Almost twin-like. Except for the lack of the boyish roundness of George’s face. “Is it?”

“I think it is.”

“But George doesn’t have a body like this guy. No way. No how.”  Riza cocked her head and examined him closer. Not that it was a chore to do so. But this was not the average, slightly round-shouldered body she’d cast one look at and disregarded. She groaned as he slipped on the Santa coat.

“I’m telling you. I think he’s George.”  To prove her point, she slapped Riza on the shoulder before calling out to him. “Hey, George!”

Santa pivoted to answer. “Yeah?”

“George?”  Riza’s voice squeaked out, with no air to support the sound. “You’re George?  The same George I said hi to a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Did you need something?”  He ran his hand through his longish black hair, his arm muscles rippling with the motion.

“Uh, no. No thanks.”  What the heck could she say?  Hey, did you grow some muscles in the past thirty minutes?  Not a chance.  She just didn’t have enough nerve to come right out and say it. But she was determined to find out the truth. And just how he’d managed to hide such a magnificent form from her.

However, Brea didn’t have any reservation about bluntness. “George Mattson, what the hell happened to you?”

Brea’s outburst sent the pink rushing to Riza’s face. She tucked her head, peeking through lowered eyelashes to check out his reaction.

“Nothing happened to me.” George’s why-are-you-two-acting-so-strange expression didn’t help her embarrassment. But after a moment, he came to his own conclusion. “Oh, I get it.”  He fingered the Santa coat. “You’re talking about my new suit, right?  Nice, huh?  I got it for next to nothing from the strange old lady who owns the magic shop. Why she had a Santa costume, I don’t know.  But I needed a new one, so I snatched it up.”  He smoothed out the front of the coat, a satisfied smile curving the corners of his mouth.

Riza’s mind raced with the possibilities. He’d gotten the suit from the gypsy woman in the shop. A woman people said possessed magical powers. A gypsy who, if rumors were true, loved to cast spells on objects. Could the rumors be true? Could she have placed a spell on the costume?  On George?

Bringing Brea along with her, Riza turned away from George to whisper her idea.  “It’s the suit.  I think the gypsy put a spell on the suit.”

Brea kept glancing at George while trying to listen to Riza. “What?  Are you kidding me?”

“No. I think the costume is what changed George from a dud to a stud.  And I’m going to find out if I’m right.”

“How?”  Brea swiveled with Riza and moved to the front of the counter again.

“George?”  Riza adopted what she hoped was a sensual expression and waited for him to glance up.

His sparkling blue eyes caught her breath, trapping her voice inside her. Coughing, she finally forced the words through her lips. “Uh, could you help me with something in the back?  Ow!”  She wheeled toward Brea, ready to punch her in the arm in retaliation for the blow she’d given her. “Knock it off, Brea.”

“Lead the way.” George missed the girls’ exchange, waiting for her to go first.

Widening her eyes at Brea in an unmistakable message, Riza slipped from behind the counter and started toward the storage room.  “I need your help moving a couple of boxes, okay?  No big deal for a big, strong man like you.”  Had she really said that?  Could she be any sappier?  Fortunately, George either didn’t notice or care.

“No problem. Show them to me.”

The air in the back room was stale and the lighting dim as Riza picked out the two heaviest boxes she could find. “I need those boxes on, um, top of the table.”

George bent over to retrieve the boxes, swinging his Santa top open to reveal his hard-rock chest. The urge to run her tongue over his pecs ripped through her and she had to bite her lower lip to keep from giving in. Yet, although she’d controlled her first urge, she couldn’t restrain the impulse coming on its heels. As George bent over to lift, Riza’s hand, almost with a will of its own, grabbed his sweet, round ass.

This must be where the saying, ‘tight ass’ comes from.  Too bad he jerked up so fast she couldn’t hang on.

“Shit!”

His outburst broke the reverie she was in and she whipped her hand behind her back as if she could hide evidence of her ‘crime.’  “Oh, George, I am so sorry.  I don’t know what came over me.”  The surprise on his face gave way to amusement, but didn’t help to make her feel any better.  “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I didn’t know you ever thought of me, you know, sexually.  I mean, every time I’ve tried to get to know you, you’ve shot me down.”  His grin lit up his features, making her want to reach out and touch his face. “So why now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the Santa outfit?”  But not in the way you think, George. Not in the way you think at all.

George glanced at his outfit before shaking his head. “The Santa suit?  You’ve got a thing for Santa outfits?  I mean, I’ve heard of women liking men in uniform, but I didn’t think Santa suits made the list.”  He hurriedly added, “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

“I guess that has something to do with it.”  Oh, but definitely not in the way you think, George. “Do you mind?”

“Hell no.”  He reached for her, but she stepped away, needing to know if she was right.

“Hold up.”  She soooo wanted him, but her curiosity needed satisfying before her libido. “Do me a favor, okay?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

“Take the suit off for a minute. And I mean, all the way off.”

His chuckle started a warm flood in her panties. “No problem.”  George whipped off the coat, landing it on the nearest box, and slipped the suspenders off his shoulders so the pants could drop to the floor.  “Viola.”  Again, he reached for her and, again, she backed away.

George…the old George…stood before her in his red boxer shorts. Although not ugly by any standards, the true George with his soft stomach, slouching shoulders, and pudgy body was no match for Santa George.  Yet he didn’t seem to notice his transformation from ho-ho hot to so-so not.

Stunned, Riza’s mouth dropped wide.  Talk about putting a different skin on a person.  Without hesitating any further, she waved her hand, imploring him to act quickly.  “Put the suit on again. Fast.”

George, his grin fading, pulled on the suit again. Before he’d finished dressing, his sexy alternate body had returned.

She was right. The gypsy woman had cast a spell on the suit. In fact, Riza was ready to bet that any man who put on the suit would change, transforming from the boy next door to the stud of the month in seconds. So what was she supposed to do now?

Merry Christmas, Riza.

The odd thought hit her as the answer to her question struck. Was she crazy?  Could she think of this as an early Christmas present?  Should she tell George?  Or would taking advantage of the situation be so wrong?

Without another thought, Riza grabbed the front of his open Santa coat and hauled him to her. She heard his moan as she thrust her tongue inside his mouth and skimmed her fingers over his chest. Together, they pushed against the table, sending packages and containers flying.  With his back against the table, Riza climbed on top of him, pulling her skirt up to her waist.  “Do you—“

“Yeah. Hang on a second and I’ll put it on.”

“Hurry, Santa. Hurry.”

“Believe me. I’m going as fast as I can.”

Her panties tore as he tugged them aside while she wrestled with the button on his pants. At long last, she tugged the boxers down past his dick.

Her breath came in tortured puffs as she watched him slide the condom over his shaft. Yet when he tried to slide the pants off his legs, she stopped him, locking onto his gaze. “No. Keep them on.”  Damn, I wouldn’t want you to change into the real George. Not right now.

He laughed, pulling her sweater over her head as his hands grasped her tits. “Anything you say, Riza.”  Bending upward, his mouth sucked in a nipple, his tongue dancing over her taut bud.

A cry leapt from her as he thrust the longest, thickest dick she'd ever seen into her.  Deeper and deeper his shaft went as her throbbing pussy welcomed the intruder.

“Harder, Santa. More.”  Riza rode him, matching her rhythm to his as she pressed her palms against his chest. His hands clenched her butt, as his hot gaze met hers.

“Ride me, Riza.  I’m Santa and you’re my naughty elf.”

She laughed and did what he demanded. She rode him and rode him hard, pushing against his pounding cock as he pulled her other tit into his mouth.

Her climax hit her at the same moment he came, both of them screaming their releases. Tossing her hair over one shoulder, she lowered herself to rest against his wonderful, granite chest.

“Thanks, Santa, for the early present.”  She licked the sweat off his chest and toyed with the white on the trim of his coat.

“No problem. You were a good girl all year and deserved to be a little bad.”

Riza rubbed her breasts against his skin, delighting in the moan she got for her effort. “I’m very good at being very bad.”

“You sure are.”

Light struck them, blinding Riza until the door to the storeroom slammed shut again. She’d forgotten all about the world outside the room.

“Damn, people. Did you forget we’re running a store out here?  I think Mrs. Williams about passed out when you two yelled.”  Brea stood, arms crossed, legs apart, and glared at them. “Fortunately, I came up with a lie about you probably seeing a mouse.  But I never thought the fat, old bitch could move so fast. She was out of the store and into her car before I could say goodbye.”

George started to try and sit up, but Riza pushed him down. “Sorry. We got a little carried away.”

“I’ll say.”  Brea strolled over to them, running her eyes up and down their bodies. “So is this a private holiday party?  Or can anyone…come?”  She licked her lips giving them an obvious request.

Riza bit her own lip to keep from giggling at George’s hopeful expression.  “I think we should let her join the fun. What do you think, Santa?”

George stammered a moment before managing to agree.  “You bet.  The more the merrier.”  He started to reach out for Brea, but held up.  “But I don’t get it.  Why now?  Neither one of you was ever interested in me before. So why now?”  He questioned Brea, zeroing in on her. “Do you two want the suit off? Or on?”

Riza met Brea’s look and they exchanged a silent agreement.  Sharing a chuckle, they turned to George and answered. “On.”

THE END

Copyright © Beverly Rae 2005

All Rights Reserved