Mistlehoe

Chapter 4 - Deck the Halls Chris

‘Made up your mind yet?’ My best mate, Jack, asks as I help him unload his van.

He’s my long-time chocolate supplier.

It used to be him, Joe, and myselfbefore Joe stole my wife from me.

We’d all been friends for more than twenty years.

I lift the heavy crate of chocolate, feeling my muscles strain as I set it aside.

‘I think I’m going to do it.’ I look at Jack, and he is sporting a shit-eating grin.

‘Yeah, you are.’ He punches my arm in solidarity.

‘What tipped you over the edge?’ He cocks his head, squinting at me after flat-out refusing his suggestion last week.

‘I’m barely hanging on by a thread.' I shake my head at my lewd thoughts.

'She’s so far offlimits it’s not even funny.

But, Jesus, man, when her face lights up over all things Christmas, I feel like I’ve met my fucking other half.

I’m inextricably drawn to her, you know?’ He knows all about my sick crush on Holly.

He whistles in understand ing.

‘She’s the sweetest,’ he agrees.

‘I know you don’t believe me, but she stares at you as if you’re Father Christmas himself.

All puppy dog eyes and shit.’

‘Think the air around here has finally gotten to you.’ I watch as he unloads the last of the order.

Around this time of year, our chocolate supply triples.

‘If you say so,’ he says in a sing -song voice.

He heads back into my office to have a quick hot chocolate before the shop’s annual Christmas photo shoot starts.

The entire staff has come in foran hour to get the photos done.

It’s purely for marketing, but I know they look forward to letting loose and having some Christmas fun.

Jack found an app and pop-up sex club that caters to my particular fetishes.

I’ve been hesitant to sign up, but lately, surrounded by my favourite season and girl, I can’t deny I need an outlet.

After our intimate candy cane-making session together and then being surrounded by her peppermint scent in the confines of my car, I had finally fallen off the ledge into deluded insanity.

That night, I wrapped my hand around my cock, pumping it over and over.

In my mind, I imagined Holly’s lips wrapped around my length while wearing nothing but a Santa hat.

I stroked myself raw, picturing her climbing up my body and sinking down on my dick, riding me like a reindeer, with her head tipped back as she moaned my name.

It was so detailed that I swear I felt her spasming around my cock, soaking me in her arousal.

In an embarrassingly short time, I blew all over myself.

It was only after I had wiped my cum off my stomach that I caved and downloaded the Mistlehoe app.

I haven’t opened it yet or even registered as a user, but I know after today, seeing her dressed up as a sexy little angel or Mrs.

Claus will have me finger-banging the keypad to create a profile.

Until Christmas, a particular location is set up for those who want to meet in public, or you can meet at a predetermined location as long as you both register your coordinates in the app.

The only stipulation for both ways is to wear a mask for anonymity.

I’ve always had a high libido, but unfortunately, Josie and I were rarely intimate with each other.

I used to think it was because she had a low sexdrive, but it turned out she just didn’t want to have sex with me.

Since she left, I’ve had my fair share of one -nighters, especially since Cole moved out.

There are perks of having the cottage all to myself.

Despite having pussy on tap, none of them have entirely satiated me because they haven’t been able to fulfil some of my depraved fantasies.

Getting my dick wet and squeezing into a tight hole is always welcomed, but most hookups aren’t willing to let me decorate their bodies like a Christmas tree.

As I scoop some white chocolate drops into the bottom of our cups, I add a few caramel, milk, and dark chocolates, too, so the hot chocolates are extra rich and creamy.

‘Thought about your username?’

I scratch my head at his direct question.

‘Uh, not really.

I’ll get on it tonight.’ I pour the warm milk and start stirring both cups with a teaspoon.

Adding froth to both, I finish my signature hot chocolate with a sprinkle of edible gold.

‘How far do you think you’ll go?’

It’s something I’ve thought in depth about.

I’d like to try scenarios involving more than just one person, but those could be tricky to set up if you don’t know the right people.

Luckily, I know the right people.

Jack is one of them.

I’m as straight as they come, but I wouldn’t mind sharing if it involves fulfilling a fantasy.

Jack’s the same.

‘I think I’ll get all the one -onone stuff out of the way, but there’s a few things I want to try down the track that require more people.’ If I let my mind wander too much, my pole will stick up the entire afternoon.

He grins as I hand him his cup.

I’ve had more than one woman simultaneously, but I’ve never done anything with another guy.

On the other hand, Jack has done everything in the swinging lifestyle with his wife.

Taking a sip of my drink, I contemplate what a lucky bastard he is to be in an open relationship with the love of his life.

‘How’s Jenny going?’

‘Real good.

We found a pretty young thing to join us in bed the other night.

Ended up as pretzels the way we were sucking and fucking each other.

Threw my back out for a day,’ he chuckles.

‘Fuck you.’ I swallow what’s left of my hot chocolate and shake my head in dismay at how he hit the jackpot.

‘Ever since the kids left, Jenny has been wild.

I’m living the goddamn dream, man.’

I love Jenny like a sister, so I choose to compartmentalise and ignore that part of her.

To me, she is the faithful Betty Crocker housewife to Jack and a doting mum to their three kids.

Smirking, I wonder how complicated their sex life must be.

‘I still don’t get how all the rules work with the two of you.’ ‘It’s easy.

We know we love each other more than anyone, and whatever we do with others is just a physical outlet.’ He shrugs as if it’s the most normal thing on earth.

Leaning back, I see for the first time today that he has some transparent film wrapped around his left wrist.

‘What did you do to your wrist?’ I nudge my head toward his arm.

‘Finally got my matching upside-down pineapple tattoo with the missus.’

Ah. The universal sign that they’re swingers or in an open relationship.

Before Jack told me, I found it extremely weird that they had an upside-down pineapple on their front door.

Inside, the theme of pineapples continues, with pineapple lamps in their living room, pineapple tea towels, and pineapple figurines scattered everywhere.

‘Anyway, mate, I have another delivery, and you have a photo shoot to get to.’ He slaps my knee as he gets up.

‘Thanks for the drink.’ On his way out, he turns.

‘Glad you’re doing this, mate.

I think it’s exactly what you need.’

With those parting words, he saunters out.

I sit in my chair for a while, swinging side to side.

I know I need to get changed soon in my silly Santa outfit, but I feel the shoot will be the death of me.

It will test me in every way to see innocent Holly, so bright and bubbly.

I know how happy this entire afternoon will make her.

I also don’t think I’ll be able to withstand it if she does something naughty.

She’s so wholesome, which is a turn-on itself, but if she’s out there sucking candy canes or doing something promiscuous with the candy, I’ll come immediately in my pants.

I stroke my well-groomed beard to get in the right headspace.

I’m proud of how well I’ve managed to maintain my facial hair over the past few months.

It’s thick, full, and neatly trimmed, so it doesn’t look ragged.

It’s a dark grey, peppered with silver highlights.

In all my years of marriage, Josie never let me have a beard, so I started growing it once she left.

At first, it was out of spite, but now it’s something I love about myself.

A gentle tapping stops me midswing.

There’s a slight pause before a much firmer knock reverberates through the room.

‘Come in.’ The handle twists as the slab of wood creaks open.

With the door just slightly ajar, I see my little Christmas doll.

‘Holly, what can I do for you, sweetheart?’

‘Oh…um, the photographers are all set up and just wanted to see if you were ready?’ Her head peeks through the door, but I can’t see what she’s wearing.

‘Should I tell them maybe five minutes?’ I see her visually assess me, clearly not being anywhere near ready.

I gave all the girls options of what they wanted to be, but there was only one Mrs.

Claus outfit.

I asked them to choose who would be wearing what, and it seemed like my little pudding decided to be my fake wife for the afternoon.

I can’t be sure she’s wearing that particular outfit, but her bleach blonde hair is teased and curled to look like a bob, and those blow job lips of hers are stained ruby red.

Her cheeks are like two red lady apples, while her eyes have this captivating, sweet innocence about them, which are hidden behind fake round glasses.

‘Thanks, beautiful.

I’ll see you soon.

Just need to slip into my Santa suit.’ I wink at her, causing the tint in her cheeks to stain deeper.

She darts her eyes away and mutters something incoherent as she closes the door.

I groan at how much I seem to fluster her at times.

It’s like she doesn’t know how to act around me.

All I’m trying to do is be friendly and approachable.

I sincerely don’t mean to make her uncomfortable, but I clearly do, which somewhat unsettles me.

I’m thankful the suit isn’t a typical Santa suit.

It’s quite simply a red tailored suit.

My Happy Socks have cartoon Santas, but besides that comedic addition to the outfit, I look suave.

Checking myself in the mirror, I quiff my hair to the side.

I want to get most of the shots without the Santa hat on out of the way, so I don’t ruin the five- minute job I’ve just done on my hair in the world’s tiniest mirror.

Before leaving my office, I spritz on more cologne and run some beard oil through my beard.

‘Wow, Chris, looking mighty fine!’ Gloria teases.

I smile over at her.

She appears to be an angel.

Holly lingers beside her but doesn’t comment.

Instead, her top teeth indent her bottom lip as she sweeps her gaze over me.

As I look around the shop, it feels surreal that I did most of this.

I decked out the space with a decadent display of our sweets.

The roof looks spectacular, with strings of our candy dangling, entwined with twinkling fairy lights.

The recent candy canes we made are hanging on the Christmas tree as ornaments, and boxes of presents are overfilled with brightcoloured lollies.

There’s even a snowman made of white fairy floss.

The photographers set up a big Santa chair, with the idea that the rest of my employees would crowd around me for an official photo, and then smaller groups would be pictured with different assortments of sweets.

‘It’s weird that my dad is Santa and you’re Mrs.

Claus,’ I overhear Cole complain within earshot.

He’s now crowding Holly, who seems to be visibly shrinking as he berates her and makes a scene.

‘I already told you we drew it out of a hat,’ Holly replies, trying to pacify him.

I notice she takes a step back, trying to regain some of her own personal space.

He starts playing with his green elf uniform, pulling the shirt down over his belly, which doesn’t currently fit.

‘This costume doesn’t even fit me.’

‘Should have hit the gym,’ Gloria snorts, poking his stomach.

I see Cole wince in irritation.

‘Dad just wants to make me look like a dumb fuck.

I don’t get why there are no other options but to pose as a fucking reindeer or an elf?’

I end their little conversation by clapping my hands loudly together to signal we’re starting.

Thankfully, the photographers start directing where we all need to stand or sit.

‘Of course, you get to look like a GQ model,’ Cole scoffs, shoving past me.

He’s in a mood.

Again.

Actually, I don’t know if this is a mood or just him.

I can’t remember ever having a son who was respectful or interested in bonding with me.

Did I fail him somewhere along the line?

I tried my best.

I know I wasn’t always there for him when he was young, but I made sure to have decent breaks between my travels overseas.

When Pop died and I came back permanently, I was there at every school event, every sporting event, and every significant moment, but it still wasn’t enough.

When Josie left, I thought it might bring us closer, but it did the opposite.

I overcompensated by giving him whatever he wanted to make up for our loss, and in return, he took me for granted and took advantage.

If it wasn’t for my insistence that he work here or that we do father and son night at least once a fortnight, I don’t think I’d have any contact with him.

When we’re together, he barely grunts or gives one-word answers — andthat’s if he shows up.

His work ethic is nothing to be admired, and I don’t think he has ever stepped foot in the kitchen to learn how to make anything we sell in this store.

Is it disheartening? Bloody oath, but I’m not about to force my son to be like me.

After Christmas, I was planning on telling him that if he didn’t want to work here anymore, he was free to go, but knowing how lazy he is, I doubt he’ll make any changes to his life.

He likes living rent- free and getting paid even though he does the bare minimum.

Why would he give any of that up? Life is easy.

He’s basically just a big man-child.

I don’t miss how Holly gives me a sympathetic smile when I sigh as Cole walks past me.

‘Chris, can you get you in the chair and Holly, maybe just perch yourself on his knee? I want you both nice and cosy.

Everyone else litter around them.

Some of you get on the floor, and some make a semicircle around the chair.’ One of the photographers starts directing, as they give out different treats to hold as props.

My mind has just caught up to the fact that Holly has been asked to sit on my lap.

I don’t think that is a swell idea in any way.

Actually, it’s a tsunami of destruction waiting to happen.

Holly is in the most fuckable outfit I’ve ever seen, and it has taken every bit of strength to tear my eyes away from her since I’ve come out of the office.

The hardest task I’ve had to do all year is ensuring my jaw doesn’t drop to the floor.

She’s flawless.

I love any and all representations of Christmas, but her version of Mrs.

Claus has to be the most delicious.

She’s in a short red dress with white fluffy trimming that flares out at the bottom and is wearing knee-high black fuck-me boots.

All of that, mixed in with her stunning features and deep-throating red lips, has me dribbling in my pants.

‘There’s no fucking way my ex-girlfriend is sitting on my dad’s lap.’ Cole flings his arms around, creating yet another scene.

Holly’s eyes dart to me in embarrassment and horror, as if she might get in trouble for his behaviour.

‘Just calm down.

It’s a few pictures,’ Gloria tries to reason.

‘No.

No way in hell.

She’ll be close to his dick.

Yuck!’ At that unwarranted outburst, Holly sucks in a breath.

I see her eyes starting to get glossy, and her face has gone beat red.

If we were looking for our Rudolph, we would have found them in Holly with the way her nose reddens as she sniffles.

‘Hey!’ I shout at Cole with fury.

‘Apologise.’ The venom in my voice isn’t one I recognise.

I’m a nice guy.

I don’t let much phase me, but he is way out of line.

He can’t even see the line from where he’s standing.

‘But.’ ‘Apologise,’ I cut him off with a lethal stare.

‘Sorry.’ It’s not much more than a mumble, but I bet that’s because he feels somewhat ashamed of what he’s said.

When he walks away, I turn my sole attention to Holly.

I look down at her, seeing how miserable she is.

‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ I rub her arm affectionately, ensuring she knows I’m not mad at her.

To anyone else, I just look like a concerned employer, but this moment is huge for me.

Instant tingles shoot up my arm at the touch of her skin.

‘I’m sorry he said any of that,’ she mutters, looking down at the ground.

‘Hey.

You have nothing to apologise for.

Are you sure you’re okay with doing the shoot? You don’t feel uncomfortable, do you?’ Her doe eyes widen as she stares up at me.

‘Of course not! Please let me do the shoot.

Please.

Pretty please,’ she begs, her entire demeanour changing into a panicked plea when she thinks I’m about to kick her out of the shoot.

I won’t lie.

I fucking froth over her begging.

I bet she begs real pretty when she’s getting fucked.

There’s no time for those wayward thoughts, but I will definitely think about her begging later when I’m alone.

I toss my head back and playfully laugh as I scoot her toward the chair.

‘Come on, my little Christmas cherub.

I wouldn’t do that to you.

I just want to make sure you’re alright.’

She giggles and happily bounces toward the chair, ignoring Cole’s death stare along the way.

By now, everyone has resumed getting into position.

They all adore Holly, so I know they’re seething inside about what my son did to her.

As I sit down on the cushioned chair, I brace myself for Holly to place her ass on my knee.

The only way to will my cock down is to think about when I found Joe pounding into Josie in our laundry.

Seemingly, it does the trick, and my cock is as flaccid as a wet noodle…that is until she squirms her deliciously juicy ass on my lap.

For the next five or so minutes, I smile as brightly as I can as Holly wriggles.

Not even the thoughts of my ex-wife banging my ex-best friend are strong enough to deflate my cock.

The minute she starts jiggling her ass on me, I feel my thighs tighten.

I’m trying with all my might to keep her ass away from my dick, which requires me to manhandle her in position or to stay still.

Unfortunately for me, that also means I need to wrap my hands around her tiny little waist.

As soon as the photographer yells, ‘Done,’ I push her off me and bolt from the chair, creating some much-needed space between us.

She narrows her eyebrows for a second before composing herself.

I don’t mean to make her self-conscious; I just don’t want to be arrested for molesting her, so it was either throw her off me or go to jail.

If I thought her sitting on my lap was torture, what the photographer makes her do next is just downright cruel to my sanity.

He has her sucking on candy canes with her luscious lips and bending over to get the tray of Christmas cookies from the oven.

Her tits are plump and ripe as she bends over, as is her tight ass that has that wondrous jiggle.

She isn't a size zero, and that’s what I appreciate.

The meat on her is salivating.

We’d done a lot of shoots before, but something told me that this one would go gangbusters on social media because of our little shining star.

She was born for a shoot like this.

It is uncanny how she could be so sinful and sweet at the same time.

As she works the camera, I notice more and more of my male staff members captivated by her.

There may even be a little drool from one or two of them.

I want to murder every single one of them, including my son, who is boasting that he’d ‘tapped that.’ I am overly protective of Holly, and the thought of another man touching her makes my insides sour.

By the time the shoot is done, everyone clears out pretty quickly.

I retreat to my office to calm my libido down.

Pouring myself a nip of whisky, I sit on the small couch and unbutton a few buttons of my shirt.

Somehow, I managed to get through not spontaneously ejaculating while watching Holly, and I was damn proud of myself.

My obsession was real, and it was becoming a massive problem.

She wasn’t mine, and as much as it killed me, she would or could never be mine.

Just as I’m about to take the shot of whisky to numb those thoughts, another tap sounds at my door.

‘Come in,’ I call, making no attempt to move.

My legs are spread as I make myself comfortable.

Within seconds, Holly starts tentatively walking toward me.

‘Can I speak to you for a moment?’ There is a flash of fear across her face, and she keeps twisting her hands in front of her as if she’s trying to wring the nervous energy out of her tiny body.

‘Sit.

Sit.’ I gesture to the chair in front of me.

To be safe, I grab a pillow and place it across my dick.

I’ll need it for sure as she’s still in her little cock-teasing Mrs.

Claus outfit, except now, somehow, she manages to look even hotter.

She’s ditched the glasses, and her hair is tousled.

Her icy blue eyes stare up at me, unsure, so I gesture for her to sit again.

‘Are you okay, Holly?’ I rub my jaw.

She crosses and uncrosses her legs several times, inching her dress up her leg further.

‘Yeah.

Sorry to interrupt.

Um.

I just wanted to clear the air about before.’

‘Not necessary.’ I flick my hand as if it’s a thing of the past.

‘I am appalled at how Cole acted, and I just wanted to assure you I am very comfortable around you,’ she emphasises.

There’s a hint of something in her voice, but I can’t quite detect what it is.

‘It’s fine, doll.’ ‘I just don’t know what he was even thinking.

I was so proud to be Mrs.

Claus today, and you make the ultimate Santa every day.’ ‘Oh?’ I cock my eyebrow, loving her verbal dribble.

Her ruddy cheeks deepen as she tries to backtrack.

‘No.

I mean.

That came out wrong.

I don’t think you’re fat.’ I laugh.

She’s so cute when she’s flustered.

‘I just mean,’ she tries again, ‘You’re generous and kind, and you have the whole beard thing going.

You make everyone feel very welcome and loved.

You’re a good man.

Cole was way out of line and made things extra awkward when he didn’t need to.’

I stop her before she runs out of breath.

‘Holly.

Honey.

It’s okay.

Cole was entirely in the wrong, and I very much enjoyed having you as Mrs.

Claus today.

You were our shining star, and I know it’s because of how much you love Christmas.’ A lungful of air escapes her mouth and hits me right in the face.

She smells fantastic, and I bet her tongue would taste amazing, too.

She looks at me up and do wn, dare I say…appraisingly.

A hint of sauciness in her eyes tells me she likes what she sees.

Her mouth is slightly parted, and her chest rises and falls rapidly.

I stare back at her intently, trying to decipher what her look means.

When she lifts her eyes from my bare chest, she snaps out of her daydream and practically jumps out of her seat.

‘Okay.

Well, that’s all I really wanted to say.

Thanks for…well, everything.’ Hastily, she gets up and leaves with a quick goodbye as if she’s relieved that the conversation is over.

On her way out, a gust of air lifts her skirt, giving me a divine sneak peek of her white panties.

Fuck me dead.

They’re white cotton that stretches barely across her ass and written on them is ‘Santa’s ho’ in red.

I’ve surely died and gone to heaven.

All I want to do is tear those off her young plump ass and fist the material around my cock until I jerk all over them.

To stifle my groan, my fist balls up, and I place it into my mouth.

I hear the faint clacking of her boots on the tiles get fainter the further she moves away.

Not long after, the chime of the bell on the front door rings, telling me she’s left.

When only silence surrounds me, I whip out my phone and sign up to Mistlehoe.

I need to fuck, and I need to fuck someone who has the same deviant Christmas fantasies I have been having over Holly.

All afternoon, I’ve been thinking of two things: my username and what type of fantasies I want to bring to life.

Minutes later, NoelWithTheBigPole is live.

My bio reads: Hi, I’m Noel, and I want you to ride my pole.

I’m seeking a Mrs.

Claus who is willing to get down on all fours.

I want an angel who’s willing and perky and will let me stuff her like a turkey.

I promise to bring you the Christmas cheer, fucking you hard and good in your mouth, pussy and rear.

Let the fucking depravity begin.

Merry fucking early Christmas to me.