As she walked by the mirror in the employee lunchroom, the elf stopped and looked deeply into the reflection she cast. In order to see herself completely, she found herself standing on her tip-toes and looking down into the edge of the mirror until her green shoes came into view, silver bells jingling as she hopped from foot to foot. She was dressed from head to knee in fine green velvet trimmed with silver, the epitome of a Christmas elf, with some notable differences. The costume she wore was quite expensive, and had cost her several times the amount the store had spent on their Santa outfit. She wore it proudly, and her dedication, appearance and personality made her a highly sought-after character throughout the Rose City this time of year.
Standing 50 inches tall in her belled slippers, Erin was perfectly proportional in all ways, although her appearance at first glance was by and large childlike and androgynous. Her gender was suggested more by the carefully understated makeup she wore than any other physical factor. Her face, slightly oval, was quite stunning, however. She reflected her mother's Polynesian heritage in her facial structure as well as her complexion. Her lips, deep red carefully outlined with green sparkles, were full and a little pouty when relaxed, although they were usually drawn into a genuine infectious smile. The eyes looking back at her from the mirror were a deep brown, almond shaped and tilted up at the outsides, bearing long lashes her girlfriends yearned for. Raven black hair, braided with red and green ribbons intertwined with tiny bells, exited her elf hat to fall nearly to her knees.
Erin sighed quietly, walked out of the locker room and started down the hall to the service elevator. The concrete corridor echoed with the sound of bells as she walked, and a wide smile lit her face as the elevator door slid silently closed.
Nine hours later, the smile was still there, but the braid was a little looser, the slippers were smudged from little kids standing on them, and her walk was a little slower. As she spun the knob on her locker, she was looking forward to nothing more than a cup of tea and a nice chair. She was grateful that she had a couple of days off, but was already thinking about volunteering for another shift at a hospital tomorrow. She used a stall in the women's restroom to change into jeans and a University of Oregon sweatshirt over a silk camisole. Her costume went into her backpack after her winter boots came out, and she made her way to the Max station nearby to wait for the Blue Line home to her apartment near the Willamette River. Erin made small talk with Mrs. Hansen, an elderly neighbor, as they rode to their floors together, each enjoying the chat. They wished each other a happy holiday season as they went their separate directions on the 20th floor.
As her door closed, Erin reached up for the light switch as she kicked her boots off and hung up her sweatshirt near the gas fireplace. As the flames danced, Erin stood by the window and looked down on the river below her. In the twilight, the sky was dimly reflected in the gray ribbon 200 feet below, light snow still sharpening its edges. She shivered in the cold from the glass, her nipples pinching pleasantly as they grew hard. Standing with her arms crossed over her non-existent breasts, she unconsciously rubbed the back of her thumbs against the pea-sized bumps. Hearing the click preceding the ventilator fans engagement, she stripped the camisole off over her head, walked the few steps back to the fireplace and stood in the rush of warm air escaping from the grill above the glass. As her skin warmed, she stepped out of her jeans and pink lace string bikini panties and stood, her tawny skin reflecting the firelight. Her wrinkled areolas, deep brown and the size of quarters, held her turgid nipples slightly away from her chest as she looked down at them. She ran her index fingers under each bud. Lifting them to the horizontal and letting them go, she frowned a little as they slowly pointed toward the floor.
"As if it wasn't bad enough that I have no tits, I have sagging nipples. I don't think that's fair," she said to no one in particular.
She released her nipples and slid her hands slowly down her muscled belly to her smooth, hairless mound. Her rose colored clitoris pointed its eager head out of the upper terminus of her wrinkled labia just above her pubic mound, as if reaching for the heat from the fire. As her body pulled in the heat, her inner labia unfolded and dangled, like a satiny pair of brown, wrinkled flower petals. Erin placed her middle finger into her crease, and trapped her dark lips between it and the nearest two fingers and pulled down. Her labia strained against the tension, and the mouth of her vagina made a liquid noise as it spasmed shut in response to the stimulus.
Erin tapped the head of her clit with her right index finger as she rhythmically pulled on her lips with the other hand. Her breathing became ragged and her eyes fluttered shut as a look of sublime concentration came over her face. She began to hum softly as she exhaled.
"Mmmmm. Mmmmm, uh huh. Mmmmm. Ohhhh. Mmmmm."
Her face grimaced, perfect white teeth showing. Her knees started to tremble and her hips began to buck as her tiny body swayed in place, her finger beating a staccato against her swollen clit.
"Mmmm, MMMMM. Gonna cum. GonnaCUM.Gonnacumgonnacum gonnacum GONNACUM!!" As she yelled out the last words, she sank to her knees in front of the fireplace. Panting with effort, Erin sat on her haunches as two silvery strings of her cum slid off of her labia and stretched to the soft carpet under her slim, childlike ass.
"Whoa. That was not bad. Not bad at all. Of course, a dick would be nice," she chuckled.
Legs still shaking, she gathered up her clothes and walked naked to the bathroom, depositing her load in the hamper just inside the door. As she walked back into the kitchen for a glass of water, she noticed the message light on her machine flashing. She poked absently at the button. "Hey, Erin; it's Laurel at OHSU. Would it be possible for you to make an Elf appointment tomorrow afternoon? I know it's a Saturday and all, hun, but we have a great Santa, and I think he's gonna need your help. It's at the Children's Oncology unit at 1:00. I updated the info on your scan card to get you in, OK? Please call me right away if you can make it, all right? Luv ya Darlin. Buh Bye."
Erin leaned gently against the counter and thought for a while. She balanced the desire to spend a solitary Saturday against the gratification she felt doing hospital visits. The kids really needed to have a miracle, and the decision was made before she picked up the phone to return Laurel's call.
The next afternoon passed in a blur of children and teenagers with no hair, haunted expressions only momentarily relieved by the genuine mirth and kindness of the most talented Santa Erin had ever seen. From the moment Mark had introduced himself to her, they had functioned as a flawless team, each anticipating the other's needs in a smooth dance of compassionate energy. Some children were unable to leave their beds, which were lined up out the door and down the hallway of the children's cancer ward. Erin had wondered how well these bedside visits would go, but was further stunned when she realized that Santa was in a wheelchair, a burgundy Quickie decorated with silver, red and green garlands. She needn't have worried, because "Santa" effortlessly hoisted himself out of the chair and into the bed beside those children he'd been given permission to approach. The fact that Santa's legs remained in place on the chair seemed unimportant to all concerned, in fact, it seemed to sooth the fragile emotions of those many children who had lost limbs to the awful disease.
Just before dinnertime for the children, last child was spoken to, and the nurses gathered around to thank the two costumed characters. Hugs were given, hands were shaken, and suddenly Erin looked around and Mark was gone. A nurse pointed her to an empty room down the hall, and since the door was cracked open, she quietly entered. Mark's wheelchair was in front of the window, and as she walked quietly toward him, she noticed his shoulders shaking and realized that he was weeping. She put her hand on his broad shoulder, and to her surprise, he spun the chair slowly toward her and put his head on her shoulder. After a while, he pulled away from her a little and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. She took his chin in her hand and dried his face more thoroughly with a tissue from the counter near the window.
"I'm sorry about this, Erin, I just know that this will be the last Christmas for about half of those incredible kids," he said quietly.
"Why are you embarrassed for caring, Mark? I think you were magnificent today! I've never felt so good about the time I've spent here on Christmas, and this is my eighth time. I thought I was going to cry dozens of times today, Mark. I have no idea how you kept it together so long. I'm babbling, so I'm going to shut up now," she said, her face feeling hot. He smiled at her comment, and then said, "Your eighth time? Did you start coming here in grade school?"
"I'm 26, Mark," She said, looking at the floor. He felt like his heart had stopped; his embarrassment was complete.
"I'm sorry, Erin. I just...OK, I'm going to blubber some more now. I wouldn't hurt your feelings for anything. Please forgive me?"
She mumbled something.
"What did you say, Erin?"
She looked down and actually scuffed her foot on the shiny floor. "I said I'd forgive you if you'll buy me a beer."
"Really, I mean, that's a deal, my elf girl. Let me get changed and we'll go."
