SANTA’S HOT SECRETS by Antonia Adams

Author:Antonia Adams
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Accent Press Ltd
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Christmas Keeps Coming

by John McKeown

There’s probably a medical term for a woman obsessed with having sex with a guy dressed up as Santa Claus. Clausomania, Santaitis. I should look it up sometime. Though I’m trying to forget my entanglement just last Christmas with one of the worst sufferers of the disease. Maybe this confession will help. I certainly couldn’t take it to my local priest.

Anita had just divorced me and not only had I lost the wife I still loved, along with three wonderful kids, I’d lost my business in the recession, and it was only the goods unloading at the warehouse, the cold calling for a car insurance company and – I still wince when I think of it – being Santa in a mall in Queens that were keeping me out of the soup kitchens. It wasn’t just my neck on the line. I had alimony payments to make, and I wanted to make them. I wanted to keep on putting food in my kids’ mouths.

So there I was, sitting in that sparkling, twinkling, snow-speckled grotto wearing a red fat suit and a big fluffy white beard, dandling kids on my knee and listening to them reel off lists of toys they’d been working on since the summer. At least, I told myself, way out in Queens I was safe from anyone finding out how low I’d sunk. But then, ten days before Christmas Day, Nuala McCarthy walks into the grotto. Boy, total disaster has never looked more mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

Nuala had more curves on her than a bagful of bowling balls, and whenever she appeared the men went down like tenpins. I was no exception and the moment I recognised her I had a woody as big as a California redwood straining against the fabric of my Santa pants. It didn’t matter that this Irish broad had a personality meaner than any of the snakes banished by St Pat from the Ould Sod, her looks overrode everything.

I hunkered down deeper within my flowing beard and put extra bass notes into my greeting of the little boy – her nephew – who climbed fearlessly onto my knee and peered cynically into my eyes.

I went through my spiel on automatic, with not just the kid’s eyes but Nuala’s burning into me. It was as though she could feel that hard-on throbbing with months of frustrated desire just a few feet away from all her lovely weight slouched on one long, sharp high heel. But I got through it, losing half a pound in sweat, and then they left.

And then, a minute later, she came back in, with her fur coat over one arm and stood, hand on hip in front of me.

‘Hi, Jerry.’

‘Huhhuhhummm!’

‘I know it’s you, Jerry. And you’ve never looked more fetching.’ She brought her tight, silk-clad ass down onto my thigh.

‘I can understand your reluctance, but your secret’s safe with me, as long as –’ she plucked my lips free of the coils of beard and kissed me, her tongue slipping in ‘– you do exactly as I say.

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