From: PreteenLover@MailAndNews.com   
      
   Srory: A Christmas Story   
      
   By Ralph Kramden (Pedo, M/g, M/fff, 1st)   
      
   Guys with my "hobby" all know how difficult it is to find work, either   
   for pay or as a volunteer, where they can get their hands on little   
   kids. Christmas time is like a gift from the gods for us, because every   
   mall in America needs a Santa. Every kid under 5 wants to see Santa and   
   Santa - me - wants to see every kid under five, especially the girls.   
      
   I'm always ready for this time of year. I purchased my own high-class   
   Santa outfit several years ago. I got my own because some stores have   
   really tacky stuff and others don't have any at all. Several times,   
   having my own outfit has landed me the job I wanted.   
      
   I suppose you think I want to work at FAO Schwarz, with its elegant   
   toy-soldier doorman, or maybe Macy's Holiday Lane with the elves   
   striking hundreds of tinkling silver bells on the white fir trees in   
   time with the chipmunk's rendition of "Here comes Santa Claus", while   
   bedraggled chipmunk robots do "The Twist" on white bedsheets doubling as   
   snow.   
      
   No, no, not for me.   
      
   Been there done that. Those jobs are for showmen, guys who want be seen   
   on stage, and often on camera, Ho, Ho, Ho-ing for the crowd of adoring   
   moms with their bundled-up kiddies and videocam-ing husbands, bag those   
   star-powered jobs.   
      
   Anyway after that "incident" over in Concord last year, I don't think I   
   could get a high visibility Santa job if I wanted one. I prefer a nice   
   little out-of-the-way place, like Calico Corners, a fabric store, or   
   Bed, Bath and Beyond, owned by two nice Jewish couples who want to add a   
   little Christian tradition to their store.   
      
   "Ridiculous!" you say. "Who is going to bring their toddler to a fabric   
   store to see Santa?" Good question. But I talked the store into it. Moms   
   making themselves or grandma a nice Christmas apron needs room to spread   
   out a and a couple of kiddies tugging on their skirts don't help. Why   
   not leave the kiddies with Santa? Or so I argued. "Calico Corners"   
   bought the concept. Especially since I had my own outfit.   
      
   So I set my chair up in a nice quiet corner, no chipmunks, no elves, no   
   tinkling bells. Not even a line, really. I'm a big, friendly,   
   'touchy-feely' guy, so I just gathered up the kiddies when their moms   
   passed by and plopped them on my lap. Mom would visually check on li'l   
   darling once or twice, but then she was off doing her thing while I did   
   mine.   
      
   It was kinda slow, but I was having a great time with Darcy, a little   
   5-year-old blonde who was sitting in my lap, as we played various games.   
   Her mom was about two aisles over, planning a Christmas tablecloth.   
      
   Darcy told me that she was very musical and played the piano and the   
   flute. I asked her if she would like playing with some of my stuff and   
   she said, "Sure". My Santa suit, built to my specs, has certain special   
   features not found in all Santa suits. One feature allows me to get my   
   cock out or back in, in a hurry. Now I had it out and it was pretty big,   
   because Darcy was pretty sexy.   
      
   Only Darcy could see it though, as she was sitting on my lap facing me   
   in a way that blocked everyone's view. I gathered her hands around it   
   and suggested she move them up and down and also taste the top. Maybe   
   she could put it in her mouth like a recorder flute. It was fun. Darcy   
   took it on her own to play around with it and discovered my balls with   
   her strong little piano-playing fingers.   
      
   I shouldn't have closed my eyes in ecstasy, of course. I started as I   
   heard mom's heels hitting the terrazzo floor. She was about half an   
   aisle away and headed toward me when I got it out of Darcy's hands and   
   back in, in just the nick of time.   
      
   "How're Darcy and Santa doing?" Mom cooed as she approached us. I gave   
   her a big smile as Darcy turned around to face her mother. I was frankly   
   a little disappointed that our session was going to come to an end, and   
   maybe Mom saw that in my face as she stood over us, looking at Darcy in   
   my lap. There was something else in my lap that was pretty big and not   
   well disguised by my red satin suit.   
      
   "Poor Santa" Mom said as she saw my hard on. I just smiled and tried to   
   think of industrial machinery in order to reduce "its" size in a hurry.   
      
   Some people are kinda weird and sometimes I think all people are kinda   
   weird, but Mom was really weird. At least her actions were totally   
   unexpected by me. I thought she would be furious at my "playing" with   
   her daughter and that somehow she had seen Darcy with my cock two aisles   
   away whereupon she spun around and strode back to rescue her daughter   
   with vengeful thoughts and was now going to pummel me with her cell   
   phone and a big Christmas candle standing by. She looked mean.   
      
   She held that look, nostrils flaring, lower lip quivering. Then her face   
   collapsed in a big grin. "Does poor ol' Santa need a hand job? Does he?"   
      
   Darcy was still sitting there while Mom was overcome with the Christmas   
   spirit. Mom had my cock in her warm hands in an instant and started   
   stroking so masterfully that it was obvious she knew what she was doing.   
      
   Placing her Christmas tablecloth behind Darcy and thereby hiding the   
   three of us from view, Mom bent over and put my cock in her mouth as   
   Darcy watched.   
      
   God was she good! A couple more tugs and I was squirting all over my   
   Santa suit, even in my beard.   
      
   She leaned over again and gave me a kiss on the nose, gathered up Darcy   
   and her tablecloth and with a wink and a "Merry Christmas," off she   
   strode with Darcy on her hip.   
      
   I just wanted to luxuriate in that wonderful feeling of just having had   
   an orgasm, but I needed a moment to collect my thoughts.   
      
   I got my cock back into my pants, but the red satin in my lap was all   
   wet. I tried to get the cum out of my beard with a Kleenex. Experience   
   had taught me that cum turns a faux Santa beard yellow and I didn't need   
   that, the season was just beginning.   
      
   While I was dabbing this and that, PLOP, a four-year-old little boy was   
   dropped in my lap and his rotund mother was waddling away toward the   
   dinner napkins.   
      
   She didn't get far when she stopped cold, as though running into an   
   invisible wall. Her nose was in the air, sniffing as some offending odor   
   had just struck her nostrils.   
      
   "That's..... That's......." she cried, spinning around, to look right at me.   
      
   "That smells like...very quietly now… like.... Sex!"   
      
   Everyone knows that when it comes to nose, women all surpass men. "Lotsa   
   Momma" could smell my cum from a great distance so it was a little   
   strange that she missed a whiff when she dropped her little boy on top   
   of me, a mistake she was now going to correct, and with the help of the   
   floor manager, Mr. Newton.   
      
   Arnold McLaughlin, Jr. was whisked from my lap in a trice by the burly babe.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)