Chapter 1
As I tug on the tiny red dress and try to pull it down further past my ass, I wonder for the umpteenth time if agreeing to be Santa’s helper at my husband’s work Christmas party was a good idea.
Joey works as a certified public accountant with one of the biggest accounting firms in our town.
They recently scored a big new client, and the company claims they’re doing something special for everyone at the holiday party.
One of Joey’s coworkers agreed to play Santa, and they asked for volunteers to be Santa’s helper.
My dear husband signed me up without asking.
When I complained, he fucked me senseless and wouldn’t let me come until I agreed to do it.
It wasn’t all bad. After that, it became a running joke.
Every time I threatened to not help, he’d fuck me again and not let me come until I changed my mind.
I blame my pussy for getting me into this. If she wasn’t such a slut who loved being edged, I wouldn’t have kept using it as an excuse to get him to fuck me.
Since the party isn’t for children, why does Santa even need a helper?
Hell, why is there even a Santa? Joey’s work parties never include people under twenty-one since there is free-flowing alcohol, and everyone gets wild towards the end with ribald jokes and flirting.
The company’s motto is work hard, play hard for their social activities outside the office.
The Christmas events are usually informal, but everyone dresses up.
In past years, I’ve gone with a sexy number that gets my tipsy husband to drag me to bed when we get home.
Once I resigned myself to helping, I scoured online for a new sexy costume. The plan is to tease my husband and offer to polish his pole later... or maybe it’s jingle his bells? Hmm, maybe.
My best friend Jessica is a writer, so I should have asked her to come up with some filthy Christmas-themed jokes.
I guess I could have searched online, but what’s the fun of that?
I’m sure once I’ve had a few glasses of wine, I’ll be able to come up with something that will make him laugh and want to fuck me.
Joey has been gone for the last few hours to help set up the party. He should be home any minute — or he better be, since it’s almost time to leave.
I admire myself in the bedroom mirror to make sure the outfit isn’t too slutty.
The vibe I want tonight is classy slut, not use-me-in-a-dirty-bathroom slut.
Picturing Joey getting so turned on he can’t wait to get home, dragging me into the bathroom so we can rut like wild beasts against the wall sounds like my kind of fun.
Still, I think classy slut is the way to go tonight.
This dress is a short one-piece, with red velvet and a white fur lining, and I’m pretty dang sexy. The top is a bustier and made for people with a smaller chest. I’m not spilling out over the top, but a generous amount of cleavage is visible.
Not that I’m complaining. It ups the chances of getting my husband worked up enough to fuck me tonight.
I paired it with white fishnet thigh highs and some black fuck-me platform heels with ankle straps.
These shoes might not be the best idea, since I plan to drink tonight, but my legs look too good in them to change to something more sensible.
And I can’t forget the Santa hat.
Grabbing the hat from the dresser, I adjust it over my wavy brown hair and blow kisses at myself.
Oh yeah, this Santa’s helper is ready and willing to assist my wonderful husband with all of his needs.
Fuck, he should have offered to be Santa.
I’ve got plenty of kinky ideas about helping Santa empty his sack.
I’ll save that joke for after the party.
When I hear the garage door open, a thrill runs through me. I’m ready to get tipsy. More, I’m ready to have Joey’s hands all over me.
Joey is secretive and distracted on the drive as I try to pry details out of him.
“So what’s the big surprise, huh?”
He doesn’t answer for a moment, and I’m assuming he isn’t going to reply. Then his lips turn up and he teases me.
“You’re going to have to wait and find out, just like everyone else.”
“Fine,” I huff and run a finger over the fur trim of my skirt. “Do you like my outfit?”
He said nothing about it when he picked me up, only giving me a long, unreadable look, which didn’t boost my confidence about my chances of getting laid tonight.
“You’re gorgeous like always, and a very sexy Santa’s helper.”
His voice is sincere, and a tingle spreads through my stomach. Okay, maybe he’s forgiven for not saying something earlier.
“So... not even a little hint? Come on, you know you’re dying to tell me.”
That makes him chuckle. “No hint, but you’ll be very pleased at the end of the night.”
He stresses the word pleased and my pussy clenches as if she thinks it was directed towards her.
Heck, maybe it was. I think of several ways he can please me tonight. I need to get a few glasses of wine in him, and he’ll be putty in my hands. If I play coy and cute, he’ll think fucking me was his idea all along.
The drive is about thirty minutes, so I relax into the heated car seat and turn on some Christmas music, singing along to get in a more festive mood. Santa better be coming down more than just my chimney tonight.