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.
