Christmas Congratulations

by Cat Summerfield

  CHRISTMAS CONGRATULATIONS

  CAT SUMMERFIELD

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Cat Summerfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Being Mrs. Claus isn't always easy.

  To say that my husband – Nick, better known as Santa – is a workaholic is putting it mildly. I mean, deadlines stress everyone out, but when that deadline is making sure that every child in the world has their presents on Christmas Day? Can you imagine what would happen if Nick missed that deadline?

  He works hard, especially in the months leading up to Christmas. October through December are a whirlwind of designing and making toys - and a time of constant cookie production for me. They help Nick think. Chocolate chip cookies, gingerbread, pfeffernuesse - baked treats are a speciality of mine. In fact, my cookies are what first made him notice me, all those years ago.

  Because Nick does eat those cookies you put out for him, you know? And if you happen to walk in to the kitchen, wearing nothing but lacy lingerie just as he's tucking into the goodies you've put out for him, well.

  You might see that dear old St. Nick has terrible PR, and is neither fat nor old - he's not particularly jolly either. He's got a pretty dry sense of humour, actually. You'll see that Nick is six foot six, with muscles to die for - that sack of toys is pretty darned heavy and makes for a good workout.

  That was fifty years ago now, but the memory is still fresh. It always comes back to me at this time of year – it's our anniversary, after all.

  I go out into the workshop to help make sure that everything is in order. Nick and the elves are down checking all the presents are wrapped, so everything here is pretty quiet. There are some wood shavings on the floor so I grab a brush to sweep them up, and as I do I think back on the night I met Nick.

  I'd been awake, suffering from a bout of insomnia. Deciding that lying in bed wasn't doing anything to help me sleep, I went into the kitchen, planning on getting one of those cookies for myself. And what do I find there but this gorgeous guy, standing there and munching on them himself.

  Obviously my first thought was of an intruder and I froze. Before I could get my brain into gear and scream, or run, or something, I realised a few other things. First, this maniac is wearing a Santa suit – part of one, anyway. Red velvet trousers, thick belt, tight white t-shirt that clings to every muscle- Following on from that came point two: the guy was a hottie. A serious hottie.

  Yes, I was – and am – that shallow. I had a probable burglar, possibly worse, in my kitchen and I was too noticing how attractive he is to do anything sensible.

  But then he turned to me and put a finger to his lips. By that point I had been well on my way to finding my voice and screaming the damned neighbourhood down, and I wasn't going to be stopped by some guy shushing me.

  "I know this looks odd," he'd said, and that's when I realised the guy had a voice like caramelised sugar, rich and sweet and something I could never get enough of. "But you did say that they were for me." He pointed at the note I'd left for Santa.

  "Huh?" I managed like a queen of eloquence.

  "I'm Santa Claus," he'd said, turning to me and trying not to be too obvious as he looked me up and down in my lingerie . "But you can call me Nick."

  It took more than that to convince me, but a bit of honest to god magic did the trick. He took me into my living room, where my entire holiday decorations consisted of a tiny two-foot tree in the corner of the room, with a single lonely star on top. Just one click of his fingers and a whole lot of sparkling lights, and then there's a six foot tree, trimmed to capacity, in the corner of my room. Tinsel, baubles, fairylights - everything you could possibly think of. By that point I'd been pretty sure I was dreaming and maybe that's why I was so easily charmed. Either that, or I was still looking at his damned arms.

  We talked for a few minutes, and I offered him some of the eggnog that my mom had brought over the night before.

  "If you're not too busy," I said, a little hysteria leaking into my voice as I realised I was trying to seduce Santa.

  He smiled. "I travel by magic. I can spare twenty minutes."

  "And what are you going to do with twenty minutes?"

  He grinned then. "Well, that's up to you, of course. But I'd like to make you feel better than you've ever felt in your life."

  "...Okay then," I said, because what else can you say to a proposal like that? He scooped me up in his arms like a princess, carrying me up to my bedroom-

  A crash drags me out of my memories and I go over to the window, poking my head out.

  Down in the yard, Yolena, the reindeer handler, is grabbing at Rudolph's reins, pulling him back into the stable. Out of all the reindeer, he's the one who's a real asshole. Don't believe the song. No-one was picking on him, if anything he picks on the others. Poor Dancer and Blitzen especially. He thinks that red nose makes him special; he's made a scene every year since I got here.

  I go back inside, pick up the ribbons that have fallen to the floor and then go into our personal rooms. I smile at the picture on the mantlepiece. Our wedding. We look almost like a normal couple, Nick in a sharp black suit, me in a sleek white dress. The wedding was eighteen months after that first incredible night. It would have been sooner, but Nick wanted to make sure that I'd lived with him for one Christmas so I knew what to expect. I expected chaos, and I definitely got it, but not enough to put me off.

  And that's how I became Mrs. Claus. Oh, there was more to it, of course. Marrying a legendary immortal like Santa Claus is a lot trickier than marrying Billy Bob the auto mechanic. It was worth it, through. Not least because I've looked no older than twenty-five for the past fifty years. That's definitely a plus.

  Right now, on Christmas Eve Eve - the 23rd December - it's the height of the chaos. Nick will be frantically checking his list - checking it twice - and making sure that everything's just so, ready for the big day tomorrow.

  It's long past midnight when I go down to the workshop to drag him to bed.

  "You do this every year," I tell him. "And every year it's fine."

  "But what if it isn't this year?" He asks, looking up from his inspection of the train sets. The fairylights make his green eyes sparkle. "What if-"

  "I think the biggest danger now is you not getting enough rest," I say, and put my hand on the curve of his bicep. "Come to bed, Nick. I'll make it worth your while." I give him the flintiest wink I can manage, just to make it clear I'm not talking about a mug of cocoa.

  It works.

  He straightens, and smiles at me. "Mrs. Claus, are you trying to seduce me?”

  "I most certainly am," I say, looking up at him. He towers over me, and it's always made me shiver. It makes me feel safe and protected, but it makes me feel - like I want him to control me. Like I want him in charge of me.

  Luckily Santa always knows what you really want for Christmas.

  "So, my love," he says as he steps closer to me. "Have you been naughty or nice this year?"

  "A bit of both," I say as he wraps his arm around my waist, and he's so strong. It makes my heart race. "Life's more fun that way."

  "Indeed it is." He kisses me swiftly and then throws me over his shoulder without a word of warning. I yelp as he carries me through to our
bedroom like a caveman carrying off the girl he's stolen from the next village. It makes my heart thump dramatically in my chest, wondering what he's got planned. Nick is always very imaginative, in the bedroom as much as everywhere else.

  He throws open the door to our bedroom and in a few long strides reaches the bed, and throws me onto it. As I bounce on the mattress I look up at him. So tall, so strong. Sometimes I still think of the jolly fat man from the Christmas cards and the movies when I think of Santa; when I look at my gorgeous husband, the two just refuse to gel together in my mind. Even though our bedroom has a huge decorated tree in the corner, even though there are lights everywhere and tinsel is draped around the wooden columns of our four poster bed. Everything's so Christmassy – but I still can't wrap my head around the fact that Nick is Santa.

  "I would like you to take your clothes off," he tells me, and I scramble to do so. It's not like it takes long - I'm wearing a silky slip with nothing underneath, and as I drop the slip to the floor, where it pools in a shiny pile of white fabric, Nick's eyes roam my naked body as hungrily as they did that night so long ago. As his gaze goes over my breasts, my nipples harden into points, as surely as if he'd tweaked them with his fingers, or licked at him, teased them with his tongue. That thought makes me bit my bottom lip, and I can already feel myself getting wet, just from being looked at.

  He doesn't do anything at first, just looks at me. I can see his cock getting hard, straining against the fabric of his trousers. It makes me even wetter and I want him so much - but I'll wait. I want him to make the first move. I want to do what he wants.

  When he steps forward, expectation rises in me, but it's not me he steps towards - or not exactly. First he reaches for the tinsel wrapped around the column of the bed, and tugs the end free.

  "I want to tie you up," he says. "I want you to look like my Christmas present.”

  "I am," I say breathlessly, and then nod. "Yes. Please, tie me up."

  He smiles and does so, wrapping the tinsel around my wrist and then tying it securely. He straddles me to reach for the other string of tinsel, and I gasp at the weight of him on top of me. After tying up my other wrist, he kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

  But then he pulls back and looks down at me thoughtfully.

  “What?” I ask, wanting him to get back to what he was doing. No-one kisses like Nick.

  “I just had an idea of what you could give me for Christmas.”

  I stare up at him. “Seriously? You tie me up and turn me on and now you're talking about Christmas presents?”

  “It's a really good idea,” he says.

  "Well?" I say, trying not to show how impatient I am. "Tell me, what's your great idea?"

  "You know how hard the elves work," Nick says, and I stare at him. What's with this tangent?

  "...Yes?"

  "Don't you think they deserve a reward? A little thank you for all their hard work? Some congratulations?"

  My eyes narrow suspiciously. "I suppose they do. Do have something in mind?"

  He sits on the bed and grins at me. "I've seen the way you look at them. You find them handsome."

  "They're not you," I say with a shrug, meaning it. They are handsome, but they're so - otherworldly. Just like Nick, the elves aren't what you'd expect after decades of pop culture. Instead of being tiny and cute like you might expect, they're more like fantasy novel elves, but they have a love of making toys instead of singing at trees or shooting things with arrows. They're nice enough, if a bit weird, and yes, they're gorgeous. I still don't know what he's getting at.

  "Perhaps you could be the one to give them their reward. No: perhaps you could be their reward. All of them. At the same time."

  I stare at him. There are nowhere near as many of them as you might think, but there are still five! I've never been with more than one person at the same time, and I'm not sure how that would even work. And yet, now that I am thinking about it - it sounds kind of hot. No, it sounds very hot.

  "That - that would be a heckuva reward."

  "It would," Nick nods. "For all of you."

  "And what do you get? Is this related to that Christmas present you were talking about?"

  "Indeed it is. I get a video recording, so that I can watch at my leisure. As many times as I like."

  "Oh," I say, and lick my lips. I'm suddenly so wet, thinking of that - of being filmed while I get busy with five gorgeous else, of Nick watching it later and jerking off to it - oh yes. I definitely like the sound of that.

  "Is that all you have to say?" He asks, teasing. I shake my head.

  "I say yes. And I say get on with what you were doing."

  He chuckles and obediently goes back to kissing me, ravishing my mouth. Now, he's the dominant one in our relationship, there's no doubt about that at all, but he always likes to make sure that I'm happy. Right now, he pushes my legs apart and lies face down between them, and I'm suddenly very happy. I can feel the warmth of his breath down there, and it tingles. He brings his hand up and slides a finger between my slick lips, making me cry out. Just that gentle touch is already filling my brain with swirling stars that go supernova when he rubs his thumb against my clit.

  "Oh, Nick," I say, and strain against the tinsel that's binding me. He pushes his thick finger all the way inside me, the promise of what's to come, and a moan escapes me. I don't know how much of this I can take. As he continues to finger me and I start to come undone, I already know the answer - I'll take as much of this as he's willing to give me. He slides another finger inside, and another, and those three fingers together are easily bigger than most guys' cocks. It's a glorious stretch and my back arcs off the bed as he thrusts them into me, pleasuring rocketing through me.

  And then he starts rubbing my clit in earnest and it's literally just seconds before I'm coming, my orgasm throbbing in time with my heartbeat. All I can do is lie there, whimpering, as he keeps fingerfucking me, building the pleasure again brick by brick. He pulls away and I whisper no, come back, please, but he only leaves me for long enough to undress and then he's back between my legs, and this time it's not his fingers against my lips, it's his cock. He slides in without warning, without pause, and I cry out. I always cry out because he's big, seriously big, and no matter how much he prepares me it always hurts. It doesn't hurt for long though; as he fucks me, thrusting into me again and again, the pleasure grows and overcomes the pain.

  Oh god, it feels good. Tied up with tinsel, being thoroughly slammed by my husband and his monster cock, knowing that tomorrow night I'm going to have five elves fucking me, all on his command. As he fucks me harder my breasts bounce and he grabs one of them in his strong hand, squeezing, and there's more of that pleasure-pain.

  "Nick, Nick," I whisper but I don't say anything more, and he doesn't say anything at all. He just smiles and fucks me so hard that my head hits the headboard. I brace my bound hands against it as he fucks me again and again and again, and I'm coming with a scream, my whole body tensing. Everything's wet between my legs, I can feel my juices all over my thighs, but he's not done yet. He hooks my knees over his shoulders so that he can drive into me even deeper, curls his hands over my shoulders so that every single thrust feels like it's tearing me in two. I'm sobbing now but I don't want him to stop, I'd really cry if he did, but there's so much sensation, it's too intense, I feel like I can't take anymore and that I can take everything he has to give me, that I need everything he has to give me, all at the same time.

  "That's it," he grunts. "Oh, that's it, baby," he says and then with a roar he's coming inside me, oh god, I can't take it, I can't, it's all too much.

  The intense feelings start to ebb away and I desperately want to hold me husband.

  "The - the tinsel," I say, and he tears it away so that my hands are free. As he pulls out of me I can feel his come slide out, and I bite my lip, loving knowing that I made him do that. He kisses me all over, and then staggers to his feet to grab a towel. Even though he must be as exhausted as
I am, he still takes the time to clean me up and I smile at him, feeling loved. By the time he gets into the bed by my side, we're both close to sleep, but we spend a moment looking at each other.

  "You really want to watch the elves fuck me on video?" I ask, and he nods.

  "More than anything. Do you want to do it?"

  I bite my lip, but I nod. We've never been shy with each other, and I'm not about to start now. "Yes. I really do."

  "This is going to be a wonderful Christmas," he says, giving me a goodnight kiss, and as he flicks out the lights I grin in the darkness.

  It really, really is.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I don't think it would surprise anyone if I say that I'm really, really looking forward to this Christmas Eve.

  It starts off like any other. Nick makes yet another round of checks, and then he eats a good breakfast, made my yours truly. Then he and the elves start to load the sleigh and upload the list of children to Nick's tablet. We got high tech a few years ago, and Nick declared it a Christmas miracle, saying it was the best Christmas yet.

  I watch the proceedings with a new interest, paying especial attention to the elves.

  These are the elves that have helped us for years. One of them, their leader, has been with Nick since before we even met. His name is Tenar, and he's the tallest of them all, taller even than Nick. His long blond hair falls past his waist and his eyes gleam like silver. He's gorgeous.

  Pyatt and Ryatt - Py and Ry - are the youngest – though since they're elves they're still about two hundred years old for all that they look about eighteen. They're twins and they're identically gorgeous. They're much shorter than Tenar, around my height, with shoulder length black hair, pouty lips, and slender, graceful bodies that I really want to see naked.

  Around the other side of the sleigh are Mabb and Fen.

  Mabb's part fairy and his skin shimmers, opalescent, like he's covered in glitter. His hair is candyfloss pink and his eyes are magenta. He's even more unusual looking that the rest of them.