There was a time when working at the North Pole was an honor reserved for elves, but the internet changed all that. Elves became online entrepreneurs, marketers, freelance writers or brokers. They also began to move to warmer climates as it became clear that they no longer needed to be seen to be believed. With the departure of hundreds of elves from Santa's Workshop, jobs opened up and humans seemed to be the next logical source of employees.
I was skeptical, of course, when my Operations Manager came and told me that we needed to cast a broader net to bring in quality employees. Humans, I told him, are great. They can be incredibly smart, kind, creative and the women? Well, let's just say that when the kids weren't around, Mommy was doing more than just kissing Santa. But humans tend not to be particularly discreet and there's still a mystique about Santa and the North Pole that needs to be protected. Bringing in humans could jeopardize all of that, I argued, no matter how desperately we might need the help.
But the reality finally sunk in that we couldn't run the massive organization that was Santa's Workshop without proper staffing and so was created NPA Human Resources, Inc. -- our own head hunting organization. I wanted only the best and brightest working under me, and my elves set out to bring them in.
Ashley
I was thirty two years old when I first met Nick. Divorced and looking to change up things in my life, I answered a somewhat cryptically worded ad for a "Seasonal Events Director." I had three telephone interviews before they told me that the next step would involve flying me to corporate headquarters to meet the CEO. I was surprised at both the plane ride and the CEO visit. It all seemed like a lot for a seasonal job. But then I thought, "What the Hell." If nothing else, it would be a distraction from my current situation.
When I landed on a snowy airstrip in the middle of nowhere and stepped out onto the frozen tarmac, it occurred to me that I might have made a mistake. It was cold. Really cold. But I dutifully followed the diminutive guy with the sign that said, "Ashley Cantor" into the terminal, past the luggage rack -- "We'll bring it, don't worry" he said, without slowing down -- and into a long red limousine.
We drove for about twenty minutes in silence. I looked out the window and saw little but snow: snow on the ground; snow falling from the sky; snow hills even and what could possibly have been icebergs. But, I reasoned, it was impossible that a plane ride so short could have deposited me somewhere near an iceberg.
"Um..." I started, "Where, exactly, are we?"
The small man responded simply, "You'll have to wait. We'll be there in a minute."
The limo glided to a halt in front of a massive building. Massive doesn't even seem to quite capture the size of it though. It seemed never to end. As if I was simply incapable of seeing it all. My escort, reading my thoughts, said "It's bigger than it looks." I was speechless, and decided to just observe and wait.
"This is the residence hall," he said, leading me through a series of doors. "And this," he pushed open a small wooden door that led into a very homey-looking space, "is for you." I gasped as I walked past him into a cozy, yet luxurious, living room. A fire was lit and the lights were dimmed. It smelled like cranberries and cinnamon. Plush furniture invited me to curl up with a good book and have a glass of wine. "This is ridiculous!" I said. He laughed. "Yeah. Well, it's home. Anyway, here's your bags. We've arranged a meeting with you and...um...Mr. ...Claus for dinner. Just dial two seven when you're ready, and someone will pick you up and bring you to the central offices. "No rush," he added. He produced my luggage and left me in my new home.
I took off my coat and threw it on a chair, glancing at the wall clock. Not quite four in the afternoon. I grabbed my suitcase and wandered through the kitchen with its warm tile work and wooden table and down the short hallway, lit with candle sconces, into a cozy bedroom. I set down my case and touched what looked like a light switch. I could have sworn that the bedroom candles suddenly lit. But, I reasoned, they must be fake. All the same, the room had a beckoning feel that made me feel comforted and aroused at the same time.
I sat on the bed and sunk into the soft comforter. The luxuriousness of the room convinced me that I should, perhaps, just crawl under the covers for a moment, just to experience the full impact. I peeled off the pants and sweater that I'd worn for the plane ride and stripped off my panties and bra. Feeling excited, I slipped under the warm blankets. The temperature was as if someone had just left the bed, and I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining a man's hands sliding over my body. Since my husband's departure almost a year earlier, no man had touched me. I missed the satisfaction of being caressed and held. I wanted so badly to feel someone inside me, fucking me until I exploded.
I slid my hand down between my legs, softly circling my clit. "I have a meeting," I reprimanded myself. But the candles flickered, and the room seemed to warm up. My body began to tingle and I felt a growing desire. I turned onto my stomach and pulled the plush pillows under my body, crouching on all fours and rubbing my clit harder. I fantasized that I had climbed on top of a huge cock and it was driving into me again and again. I frantically rubbed until I felt an exquisite orgasm radiate through my body. I drove my fingers into my dripping pussy, pounding against my swollen lips. I slowed the pace of my pounding, and caressed my throbbing clit. Eventually I rolled over and tossed the covers off to the side. The temperature of the room was perfect and I felt as if I could have stayed there forever. I closed my eyes and smiled, enjoying the calm that follows an awesome orgasm.
I was awakened by a pounding at the front door. "Oh SHIT!" I yelped, as I leapt out of bed. I threw open the suitcase and pulled out my new work outfit. "Be right there!" I yelled to the door. "Shit shit shit!" I repeated as I pulled on my panties and nylons, clasped my bra and slipped into my blouse. I pulled my skirt up, grabbed my jacket and shoes and raced down the hall. At the door, I threw my shoes to the floor and stepped into them as I buttoned the blouse up and tucked it in. I was just throwing on my jacket and smoothing my hair as I flung open the door.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I blurted, leaving the door hanging open as I turned and trotted into the living room to grab my purse off of the chair where I'd deposited my coat earlier. "I'll be right there. I'm just...oh, God, what time is it?" I glanced up at the clock and felt a thrill of remorse as I saw that two hours had passed. I spun back around to face the stranger who'd knocked at my door and stuttered "I'm...I'm...so..."
"I know," he said softly. "It's okay." The stranger held out his hand and looked at me with the sexiest, bluest eyes I'd ever seen. I felt myself blushing as a tried to meet his gaze. It seemed that he was looking right through me and the smile he gave me reminded me that I hadn't washed my hands after my recent adventure in the bedroom. I reached out to shake his hand anyway, not knowing what else to do, and his smile broadened. He took my hand and pulled me to him in a hug that was so gentle and heartfelt that it felt like a lovers embrace. I felt the warmth between my legs start all over again as he stepped away from me, moving his hands to my elbows. He held me at arms-length and seemed to assess me anew. "Sorry, Ashley," he grinned. "We're huggers around here." He could have been a sophisticated forty five, or a youthful seventy. It was almost impossible to tell. His hair was gray but full and wavy. His eyes crinkled when he smiled and his dimples made me want to kiss his cheeks. A five o'clock shadow gave him a rugged look that only made him even sexier. He wasn't tall, maybe five foot nine or ten, but the brief hug proved that his body was solid and toned.
I'd just met this man, but for some reason, I wanted to pull him down onto the fireside rug and lick every inch of his body.
Nick
The first time I met Ashley, she smelled like sex. I'd waited for my assistant to bring her to me, but finally hunger forced me to seek her out myself. Elves are good helpers, but whatever isn't done by five o'clock...well, you might as well forget it. And obviously, she hadn't made a call by five because there was no sign of her or anyone else around the office when I poked my head out at five thirty. So I jumped into the sleigh and rode over to the residence hall. I figured she'd probably made the mistake of thinking that she could call at five o'six and get someone to answer, then didn't know what to do when no one actually was there. But her harried state when she threw open the door to me told me that she'd fallen asleep. And the scent of pussy in the air told me that she'd apparently been busy before that. The interesting thing about elf residences is that they are imbued with magic that amplifies whatever you're thinking about and makes it that much more intense. So if you're enjoying the warm room, it's warmer. If you're turned on, suddenly you want to fuck whoever is with you so bad that if you're not used to the sensation, it can overcome your normal resistance. I knew that she was alone, so I could pretty much put two and two together and figure out why she'd missed our dinner interview.
But God, she was gorgeous. Her legs were slim and attractive, elevated a bit by her heels and accentuated by the short skirt. Her breasts were full and sexy, especially since she'd missed a button or two at the top, and I could clearly see her lacy bra. Her hair was a tiny bit rumpled and the temperature of the room rose a little when she bent over the chair to grab her purse. Thankfully I'd worn my long coat that hid the growing lump in my pants. I had hugged her a little more firmly than I originally intended to. When she took my hand, her fingers felt sticky and combined with the smell of sex and her floral perfume, it took every ounce of restraint I had not to cup her breast and start sucking on her nipples. But it seemed like an unwise way to meet your first human employee, so I "elved up" and thought about snow balls.
"I'm Nick Claus," I offered. "I'm so sorry that my assistants didn't get your call." I held her coat for her and she shrugged it on. "They're pretty bad about doing anything after five o'clock." I figured it would give her an out, and she took it. "Oh, that's okay," she laughed. "You're here now!"
