Santa Baby 5

Jackson McCullough was hot in his blue Santa suit, and his beard was scratchy. It was his duty, however, to play Santa at the company's annual Christmas party. He would have liked to skip the whole thing this year, but it was his company after all.

So Jack sat with a trickle of sweat running down the side of his face and six-year-old Nicholas Kazinski in his lap. Nicholas squinted at Jack's fake beard, trying to see where it was attached.

"You been a good boy this year, Nicky?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. Your voice sounds familiar," said Nicholas, his eyebrows knitting as he continued to stare at the beard.

Precocious child, Jack thought. Instead of answering, he decided to evade.

"Do you think I've got something in my sack for you, buddy?"

It worked. Nicholas's eyes were diverted to the large, blue velvet sack that Jack's wife, Margaret, had sewn years ago. Jack shuffled through the contents of the bag, and after some speculative looks at Nicholas, pulled out a square package wrapped in candy-striped paper and sporting a big green bow.

"What does this one say?" he asked.

Nicholas grabbed the package and studied the tag.

"To Nicholas, from Santa," he said, grinning.

Jack grinned too. "Merry Christmas, bud."

Nicholas slid off his lap and shouted, "Thanks, Uncle Jack," as he shot off across the room to open his gift with the other children.

Jack sighed. He was wondering how much longer he would have to stick around, when Kaylee Kazinski, Nicky's older sister, sidled up to him.

"I'm not sitting on your lap, Uncle Jack," she said. "I'm too old."

"Uncle Jack?" Jack feigned surprise.

"Yeah, I know it's you," Kaylee grinned, leaning against his knee.

"I see," said Jack. "But you want a present anyway?"

Kaylee giggled. "Yep."

"Well, I'm sorry, young lady. If you want your present, you gotta sit on Santa's lap."

"No, I don't." Kaylee countered.

"Oh, yes you do, Miss Kaylee," Jack said. "Furthermore, now you have to give me a hug too."

Kaylee made a grab for the sack, catching the drawstring in her hands.

"Come on. Gimme my present!"

She pulled hard on the gold draw cord, as Jack held onto the bag. The cord gave way with a sudden snap, causing Kaylee to stumble backward and nearly fall on her behind. She held the broken end in her hand with a stunned look on her face.

"Oh, no!" she cried. "I'm so sorry, Uncle Jack. I didn't mean to break it."

"Oh, Kaylee!"

Suzanne, Kaylee and Nicky's mother and Jack's office manager, had approached just as the cord broke.

Kaylee's eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face against her mother.

"It's okay, honey," Jack said in a soothing voice.

It wasn't, of course. This was Maggie's bag, and the cord had snapped, just as the cord connecting her to Jack had snapped two years ago when she had died unexpectedly. The loss had created a huge hole in Jack's life that he had been unable to fill. For the first time, he was glad for his fake beard because he thought perhaps it hid his despair.

Jack reached out to pat the little girl's back and smooth her fair hair.

"Kay, it's a very old bag. It wasn't your fault," he murmured. "But now you

really

have to give me a hug."

Kaylee lifted her head and peeked sideways at Jack.

"

And

give me a kiss."

Kaylee giggled as Jack grabbed her in a bear hug. Then, reaching inside his sack once more, he extracted a box similar to the one he had given Nicholas and presented it to her. However, before she could reach for it, he snatched it away.

"Kiss," he demanded, leaning his cheek toward the girl.

Kaylee wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and gave him a long, loud, exaggerated kiss, and Jack handed her the gift.

"Thanks, Uncle Jack," she said and ran off to join her brother.

Memories rushed back as Jack examined the broken cord on his bag. He remembered how he had balked at the blue bag and matching Santa suit.

"What kind of Santa wears a blue suit?" he had asked.

"It's the perfect color for you, honey. You know I love you in blue," young Maggie had said all those years ago. "It matches those sexy eyes of yours."

It was her favorite color and, coincidentally, the same shade as Jackson Staffing's logo, so he had relented. Margaret had loved the holidays, and she loved these parties. She had always ensured that everyone in attendance received a gift from that sack.

"Do big girls get to sit on your lap too, Santa, or just the little ones?" Suzanne asked.

Jack had almost forgotten she was standing there. He held his arms open, and Suzanne settled herself on his lap and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"I'm sorry about your sack," she said.

"Eh, don't worry about it. I'm sure it can be fixed." But Maggie wasn't there to fix it, he thought. She wasn't there to fix anything. "So, what do you want for Christmas this year, Suzy Q?"

Suzanne looked good, Jack thought. Her red dress hugged her curves, and the V-neckline showed a bit of cleavage. Her cheeks were bright pink, and her eyes twinkled.

"Well, Santa," Suzanne said sighing, "I don't know if I'm ready to tell you what I want."

Jack laughed. "Why not?"

"Oh, maybe a little later." She regarded him seriously. "Thanks for Nicky and Kaylee's gifts, though."

"Sure. You look great, honey. Got a hot date later?"

"Maybe," she said with a wicked grin.

"Oh, really? Well, good for you."

Suzanne showed no sign of rousing herself from his lap, so Jack reached for his sack and extracted an envelope with her name on the front and handed it to her.

"Merry Christmas, sugar," he said.

Suzanne tore the envelope open and peeked inside.

"Oh, damn, Jack. You're always doing stuff like this." She hugged him tight and whispered into his ear. "It's too much."

He wrapped both arms around her holding her just as tight, and said, "You deserve it, Suzanne. I don't know what I'd have done without you since Maggie..."

"Jack." She kissed his cheek again. "Thank you so much."

She leaned back, and Jack saw tears in her eyes. She kissed his cheek once more, and then stood and walked away. Jack watched her walk, admiring her plump ass and shapely calves in the high-heeled black pumps. Yep, she looked good. Whoever she was going out with later was a lucky guy, indeed.

For the next hour Jack concentrated on passing out the rest of his gifts. When he was finished, he stood by the bar and had a drink with his good friend and accountant, Bill Ritter. Bill and his wife, Patty, had been trying unsuccessfully to fix Jack up with single ladies of their acquaintance lately. They'd been campaigning to get him to attend their annual Christmas Eve open house for weeks. No doubt they had some buxom widow or divorcee from their church or Patty's card club to parade for Jack's approval.

"So, are you stopping by the house tomorrow night?" Bill asked.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Well," Bill said, "I wish you would. I don't like the idea of you being alone on Christmas Eve."

"The kids will probably stop by or something," said Jack.

It was a lie. Both of his children were out of town for the holidays. It was just as well, Jack thought. Last Christmas had been morose without Maggie. This year, Jack, Jr. and his young wife were spending the holidays with the in-laws in Vermont. Becky, a senior in college, had stayed on campus and would be spending Christmas with a friend.

Bill Ritter's long face with the drooping jowls looked even more mournful than usual. "Well, alright, but if you change..."

He never got to finish because just then loud music blasted from the karaoke machine in the corner, and a couple of the office girls began to sing "Blue Christmas." Jack looked at Bill and rolled his eyes and moved on to another group of people. He was tired of making excuses and glad to be spared the necessity of making more.

The singing went on for quite a while. The booze was flowing freely, and everyone was feeling particularly courageous and festive. It seemed very loud to Jack, and he helped himself to another scotch on the rocks. He told himself it was for medicinal purposes, as his head had begun to pound, when his secretary, Marla Doogan, took to the stage with her rendition of the Carpenters' "Merry Christmas, Darling."

"Logs on the fire fill me with desire to see you a-a-and to say that I wish you Me-er-ry Christmas. Happy New Year too," Marla sang in her high, reedy voice.

Karen Carpenter must be rolling in her grave, thought Jack. It really was awful. Marla finished with a flourish and bowed, her too-tight skirt scooting up her chubby, pantyhose-clad legs. Jack was embarrassed for her. She was a nice lady.

Then, to his horror, Jack saw Suzanne taking the mic from Marla.

"Hey, everybody." Suzanne's voice echoed through the room. "This next one I'd like to dedicate to our very own Santa, Mr. Jack McCullough."

Suzanne pointed to Jack, and everyone cheered. Jack's face flamed as the music started, and he was again grateful for the fake beard covering his face. He felt rooted to the floor as Suzanne began to sing.

Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree, for me Been an awful good girl, Santa baby So hurry down the chimney tonight

.

She was actually quite good. Jack was pleasantly surprised, if still slightly embarrassed. As Suzanne warmed to the crowd, she began to move with the music, emphasizing certain words by swiveling her hips and shimmying her shoulders. She peered at Jack through half-closed eyes at times and pursed her lips à la Marilyn Monroe. Hell, those blonde curls kind of made her look like Marilyn Monroe, Jack thought.

Think of all the fun I've missed Think of all the fellows that I haven't kissed Next year I could be just as good If you check off my Christmas list

Jack was breathless watching her. He had always known she was a pretty woman, but damn! When had she become so utterly sexy? He had not known she could sing either. She had worked for him for years, but he felt as if he were seeing her for the first time tonight. He glanced around the room. All the men were mesmerized, but she was singing to him. Those beautiful green eyes were looking into his, and she was singing to him. Jack was feeling aroused for the first time in a good long while, and it felt good. He folded his arms across his padded belly and smiled.

Come and trim my Christmas tree With some decorations bought at Tiffany's I really do believe in you Let's see if you believe in me

Suzanne swung her hips back and forth, shaking her fanny to emphasize each syllable in "Tif-fan-y's" and blew Jack a kiss with her pouty red lips. The audience yelled and whistled and a couple of the guys elbowed Jack. He wished he could take off his coat. He was getting very warm. There were still some kids present, though, so he kept it on.

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring, I don't mean on the phone, Santa baby So hurry down the chimney tonight

Hurry down the chimney tonight Hurry, tonight.

Everyone cheered and whistled as the song ended, and Suzanne bowed and blew kisses. Then she seemed to disappear. Jack wanted to thank her but couldn't find her anywhere. He carried his drink down the hallway toward his office, thinking he might find her there. The lamp on his desk was on, creating a cozy little pool of light. It was cooler inside his office, and quiet. With a weary sigh, Jack sank into his big leather desk chair, setting his drink on the desk. Thinking he might rest here for just a few minutes, he slipped his hat from his sweaty salt and pepper hair and pulled the itchy beard off. Relief was immediate and welcome.

He heard something in the hallway. Singing? He looked up as Suzanne peeked around the corner into his office and seeing him sitting there, sauntered in. She was softly singing and alternately humming "Santa Baby."

"What are you doing in here all alone, Santa, baby?" Suzanne asked.

She came around the desk and lowered herself onto his lap. She was holding a large red and green candy cane, and Jack stared as her pink tongue slipped out, wrapped itself around the candy and slid out to the tip.

"I was l-looking for you," he said.

"Ah. And now you've found me." The glistening shaft of the peppermint stick disappeared between her lips as she sucked in and drew it slowly from her mouth.

Jack laughed nervously. "That was some song."

"Glad you liked it. Look what I have." She held a sprig of mistletoe tied with a silver ribbon in her other hand, which she raised above their heads.

Jack looked up at it and back at Suzanne.

"You're messing with me, Suze," he said, taking a large gulp of his drink.

"I'm not, Jack. I've had a crush on you for a long, long time."

She leaned forward and gave him a soft, minty kiss on the lips.

"A crush? Come on. Why would you want an old reprobate like me?"

"Don't. I'm not kidding about this," Suzanne said and kissed him again.

This time Jack was ready for it and kissed her back. Suzanne tossed the mistletoe on his desk and snaked both arms around his neck. Jack had one arm around her back, a hand resting at the nape of her neck and the other hand on her hip.

Suzanne's lips parted, the tip of her tongue gliding along Jack's bottom lip. He sucked her tongue between his lips, sliding his own tongue against it. She tasted slightly sticky and sweet—peppermint and lipstick and liquor and warm woman. An intoxicating combination.

She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against his.

"God, Jack," she breathed. "You're just as good as I thought you'd be."

They kissed again, mouths opening wider, hungrier, tongues entwining, breath coming faster and mingling. Suzanne's breasts pressed against Jack's chest, and his hands trailed down her back to cup her buttocks. She moved over to kiss his cheek and then his neck.

Jack's eyes opened, catching sight of the family portrait on his desk. Margaret smiled at him over Suzanne's shoulder. What was he doing? This woman was his employee. In spite of years of harmless flirting with most of the office girls, he'd never found himself in this position before.

"Suzanne, honey." A sharp intake of breath as her teeth nipped his neck. "God. We can't..."

They were interrupted by a bump and a loud wail from the hallway, followed by "Ouch! MOM!" Kaylee and Nicholas had apparently come looking for their mother.

Suzanne jumped up, running her fingers through her hair and wiped under her bottom lip with her thumb, smiling at Jack all the while.

"I'm in here," she called. Softer, to Jack she said, "To be continued," and handed him the candy cane.

Jack let out a slow and shaky breath. What the hell was going on? He realized he had better get back to the party, and pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, wiped Suzanne's lipstick from his mouth. Realizing he was still holding the candy cane, he stared at it for a moment and tossed it into the trashcan under his desk.

Folks were leaving, and he had to give hugs and handshakes and thank everyone for coming and wish them well. Bill, with Patty in tow, pulled him aside with a grin.

"The kids are stopping by, huh? Nice try, slick. I guess we all know what you'll

really

be doing tomorrow night, huh?" Bill barked out his dry laugh and elbowed Jack in the ribs with a conspiratorial look.

Jack tried to hide his annoyance. "What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Jack." Bill paused for effect. "Won't you be going down Suzanne's chimney?"

Bill and Patty looked at each other and snickered, as if they knew some naughty secret.

"Oh, stop, you two. She didn't mean anything by that. I'm her boss, for Christ's sake."

He shooed them out, promising to stop by the next night for at least a drink.

Once everyone was gone, Marla bustled about trying to clean up, but Jack sent her home, saying the cleaning crew would take care of it in the morning. Another lie.

Finally alone, he surveyed the mess in the room—the paper plates and plastic cups, the discarded wrapping paper, the cold food drying out and going stale—and decided he just could not deal with it right then. He had had quite enough. Snagging the bottle of Dewar's from the bar, he made his way back to his office and plopped down in his chair.

The vacuum of silence in the building seemed deafening. Jack poured himself a drink, took a large swallow, and unbuttoned his coat. Maggie's face in the picture on his desk caught his eye again. He lifted his glass to her and drank. It was funny how he craved solitude, but once he attained it, he longed for company. It didn't make sense.

Jack smelled peppermint and couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Then he remembered the peppermint stick in his trashcan. Closing his eyes, he pictured it sliding between Suzanne's lips, the candy glistening from her saliva, her tongue curling around it. He felt the warm weight of her delectable bottom on his lap again, tasted her kisses, smelled her perfume.

He saw her stand then, in his mind, her fingers finding the tie belt at her waist, pulling and untying the bow, her eyes never leaving Jack's. She shrugged out of her dress, letting the silk slide down her arms and puddle on the floor at her feet.

Suzanne smiled as Jack's eyes took in her sheer red lace bra, the dusky points of her nipples visible underneath, the matching panties and garter belt holding up black stockings, the gentle curve of her belly, the shapely length of her legs.

Kneeling in front of him, she gave his knees a gentle push apart, insinuating her body into the space between. Laying her palms flat on his thighs, she slid them up to the button on his pants. Jack watched as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and slipped her hands inside. She leaned forward and ran her tongue along his abdomen, ending with a kiss.

Suzanne's hands pushed inside his boxers. Finding his stiff cock and pulling it out, she wrapped one hand around the shaft and began to stroke. Jack watched her lips close around the head. Her tongue skimmed along the ridge as she sucked and stroked up and down the shaft with her hand. He buried his fingers in her soft hair, guiding her to take him deeper into her throat.

Jack's balls tightened, drawing in, his body tingling. Still stroking with one hand, he scrambled with the other to pull his handkerchief from his pocket. He caught the first stream of semen in the nick of time, before it stained his velvet trousers. Streaks of Suzanne's lipstick on the handkerchief heightened the sensation of her mouth on his cock. With closed eyes and his mouth open and panting, Jack arched back in his chair and gave himself over to sweet release.

Shame. He felt it as soon as he opened his eyes. Guilt. He looked at the picture of his nice family and turned it face down on the desk. He looked at his handkerchief covered with the lipstick of that sweet woman and his own cum. He had just jerked off in his office while wearing a Santa suit. The Santa suit that Maggie had made for him, no less. He felt like a pervert.

He poured more scotch into his glass and gulped it down and wondered if he was becoming an alcoholic. He was drinking alone in his office, jerking off, fantasizing about one of his employees. Not just an employee, a friend. Someone he almost thought of as a daughter and that he knew regarded him as a father figure, as well. Jack poured himself another drink and swallowed it in one large gulp. He had held her innocent children on his lap tonight.

You also held her

, another smaller voice said.

She kissed you

, it said. She had been drinking, he argued back.

His dark, empty house held no appeal for Jack this night. He hated the thought of returning home to his cold and lonely bed. He didn't think he should be driving now, anyway, so he lurched over to the sofa in his office and laid down. His head was swimming, and it took a long time for him to fall into a fitful sleep. No dreams came, but he was uneasy and cramped on the sofa and awakened frequently.