Spreading Christmas Joy

by Tory Baker

  Smiling and drowning in Christmas.

  Joy is definitely trouble.

  16

  Joy

  He brought me dinner.

  It’s crazy how the simplest things cause your heart to feel warm and full. I haven’t examined what I’m doing with Eb, but for him to bring me dinner that has to signify something. Right?

  Maybe he cares for me a little too. Maybe it’s not just sex. That thought shouldn’t make me so happy, but it does.

  “Oh my God! I was right! It is Clarissa’s chicken fried steak! God, I love this stuff. I didn’t realize that was the special today!”

  “It’s not. And did you hear what I said?” Eb asks.

  “No, what?” I ask, still taking the takeout containers of the bag and placing them on the counter. If heaven has a smell, I’m pretty sure it would be Clarissa’s chicken fried steak.

  Before I can open my food however, Eb pulls me close, making sure he has my attention.

  “Why am I suddenly jealous of diner take out?” Eb asks, his deep voice rumbling.

  “Because you’re crazy?” I laugh. I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself when he lifts me up off the floor.

  “I need to start spanking you when you ignore me.”

  “I wasn’t ignoring you,” I laugh.

  “You were and for a damn piece of meat.”

  “Well, I’m hungry.”

  “Kiss me and tell me you’re sorry,” he whispers, his lips so close to mine that I can feel his breath.

  “What happens if I don’t?” I ask, already leaning in so our lips almost touch, craving his kiss like I’ve never wanted anything else before.

  “Maybe I’ll take away your steak,” he says, and I swear his lips brush against me and they’re smiling.

  “But I’m hungry,” I say before we touch lips gently. He does that several times, bringing our lips together for the briefest of touches, but never giving a true kiss.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll substitute the meat for a different kind.”

  “What kind is that?” I giggle, knowing exactly what he’s talking about and suddenly I’m hungrier for him than for dinner.

  “Joy!”

  Before I can take Eb up on his offer, I can hear Margaret calling from outside. I sigh sadly, because I definitely wanted to play with Eb instead.

  “Let’s ignore her, maybe she will go away,” Eb says, obviously feeling just like I do.

  “These are her three hundred cupcakes. I don’t think she’s going to go away empty handed,” I answer, resigned.

  “Damn it.”

  “I completely agree,” I tell him, giving out another heartfelt sigh. Sometimes I have the worst luck.

  17

  Eb

  I load the last of the cupcakes into the back of the van, while Joy talks to the woman that I really don’t like right now, Margaret something-another. I like to call her Margaret with the horrible timing.

  “I don’t know how to thank you Joy. I realize changing our order was last minute. The hospital just thought cupcakes this year was a better Idea than one big cake.”

  “It was no problem. Honestly I loved making the cupcakes and I agree. I think the cupcakes will make a big splash.”

  “I think it will too. I know the children will love it.”

  “Which is really all that matters, since this entire fundraiser is for them.”

  “Fundraiser?” I ask, because I’m getting tired of being ignored. I come up behind Joy and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me. She resists at first and then relaxes against me. I rest my chin on the top of her head and wait for Margaret to answer.

  “We’re having a Christmas party to raise money for the children’s cancer center at the hospital. We wanted to do something to try and make things a little better and use the money raised to help the parents.”

  “How does it help the parents?”

  “The hospital funds programs to help parents with travel, free hotel rooms and paying for medications. Anything we can do. Sometimes it’s not a lot, but in these cases every little bit helps.”

  “It sounds like a really good thing you guys do. I’d like to contribute. I could send in a donation.”

  “Joy can get you that information. She donates a tenth of all of her sales to the children.”

  “You do?” I ask Joy, looking down at her.

  “It’s nothing,” she answers, refusing to look at me while her skin blushes with heat and discomfort.

  “It’s a lot. Especially with the sales you make this time of year,” Margaret argues and I could only imagine because in the short time that I’ve known Joy, her bakery stays busy. I give her a squeeze, but I let it drop.

  Margaret starts talking about the plans for the event, which apparently begins around lunch tomorrow. She stops abruptly when her phone rings. I’m hoping she decides to leave, but I’ve never been the lucky kind.

  “I have to take this. Excuse me a minute, will you?”

  “Of course,” Joy says. As Margaret turns away to answer her phone. I pull Joy around to face me.

  “How much longer do you think she’ll stick around?”

  “Eb! She’ll hear you!”

  “Good, maybe she’ll leave so I can take you in the back and eat the dinner I have for you.”

  “I do want that steak,” she says so sorrowfully I almost want to carry her in there and feed it to her.

  “I wasn’t talking about that. I was thinking more along the lines of stuffing my dick down your—”

  “Oh no! What do you mean he pulled out? The party is tomorrow!” Margaret yells into her phone.

  Joy tenses in my arms and turns to watch Margaret on the phone. Margaret argues with someone for a few minutes longer, before hanging up.

  “What’s wrong?” Joy asks, clearly concerned and because she is, I remain quiet, biding my time until I get Joy alone.

  “Bruce is sick. He canceled for tomorrow.”

  “That’s too bad,” I interrupt, and caring less. “Joy we better go back in and start cleaning up,” I announce, trying to hurry this along. Turns out I don’t have it in me to be patient when it comes to getting Joy alone.

  “Oh no! Do you have someone on standby?”

  “Not really. There are other males at the hospital of course, but I’m not sure any of them will agree to stand in at such short notice. I’ll have to make some calls tonight, which sucks because I have so much more decorating and things to oversee. As it is, I’ll be lucky to get in bed before three in the morning,” Margaret complains.

  “There has to be something we can do. We’ll just have to find another man.”

  “Another man?” I almost growl. I don’t know what in the hell they are talking about, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t like the idea of Joy looking for another man for any reason.

  “We’ll have to, I’m just not sure we can find one on such short notice,” Margaret answers. “We can’t just use anyone close to the hospital. The children are too smart.”

  “I know some men who might be willing to help me. Let me make some calls and see if I can sweet talk one of them into doing it,” Joy answers.

  Maybe if I knew what in the hell they were talking about, I would be more cautious. Unfortunately, I’m not being cautious at all. I’m seeing red at the idea of Joy calling any man and sweet-talking them. In response, I do something completely out of character. I jump in head first without thought.

  “I can do it.”

  “I can ask Brad and… Eb?”

  “I can do it,” I respond again, even though inside I’m begging for someone to shut me the fuck up.

  “You can do it?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Eb really, I can ask Brad or even Sam.”

  “I said I’d do it, Joy. Do you have a problem with me doing it?” I ask, annoyed and irritated that I’m fighting to do something just because I don’t want her asking another man.

  “No. I just didn’
t think you’d be interested.”

  “Well, you thought wrong,” I grumble, starting to wish I’d just kept my mouth shut. Still, I kept her from asking Brad for a favor and she can save all her sweet-talking for me. I’m even starting to feel like I’ve won a victory here. Maybe if she talks sweet enough I’ll let her make it up to me. I’ll let her bend over while I shove my cock deep into her ass.

  “This is amazing!” Margaret cries. “The E. B. Mason is going to be the Santa at our Christmas party!”

  “Santa?”

  “You just agreed to be Santa for the kids at the hospital party. Didn’t you hear what we said? Will there be a problem?” Margaret says and I feel like I’ve had all the air stolen from my lungs and even if it means saving my life, I can’t draw more in.

  “Of course he knew,” Joy says defending me. “Eb loves Christmas! That’s how we met! He wanted help making his yard perfect,” Joy adds, having no idea just how much she’s terrifying me right now.

  “That’s great! He’s just about the same size as Bruce! This will work perfectly! I can’t wait to see you both tomorrow. Thank you two for all your help! I just know this is going to be the best Christmas party ever!”

  “It will be! It will be the greatest!” Joy agrees.

  “Yeah, the greatest,” I whisper, needing a drink.

  18

  Joy

  “Eb! We’re going to get caught!” I tell him, but I’m laughing. I’m probably going to hell, but I’m pretty sure it will be worth it.

  “Not if you’re quiet. Now lean over the desk so Santa can show you why all the girls like to be put on the naughty list,” he growls.

  I do as he asks but I look over my shoulder at him, shaking my head no.

  “That’s really kind of creepy,” I whisper.

  Eb looks up at him and I have to resist the urge to giggle. He doesn’t have the fake beard on yet, but he does have the white eyebrows. He doesn’t have a shirt on, but the red velvet pants are there.

  He smacks my ass and I gasp, but bite my lip to keep from calling out. I don’t think it would be great for everyone at the party to discover Santa with his pants down. Besides that, I doubt Margaret would appreciate the way we’re using her desk at the moment.

  My body shakes as he spanks me again and again. Heat pours through my body like liquid steel. And now I don’t have to keep from crying out, instead I moan.

  “You’re a bad, bad girl, Joy.”

  “I am?” I gasp, when his fingers move between my legs, brushing against my very wet pussy.

  “Walking around in this tight little red dress all day, teasing Santa.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper my head going down so that my forehead rests against the desk.

  “I don’t think you’re sorry, Joy,” his voice rumbles behind me like thunder and I can feel each vibration in my body and it all centers in my clit, causing my knees to go weak. I’m thankful the desk is holding me up when he delivers another smack across my ass. “I think you enjoyed it. Walking around, not wearing panties and teasing Santa. I bet you’ve been wet all night haven’t you?”

  I whimper. I have been, because I knew this was coming. I knew eventually Eb would find me and he would fuck me. I knew it, because he’s right. I have been teasing him.

  Every chance I’ve had today I’ve taunted him. I’ve leaned over in front of him. My dress is low cut and I’ve taunted him with my cleavage. I’ve bent over, making sure my ass was in front of him and it wasn’t really an accident when a drop of icing fell between my breasts when I shared that cupcake with him.

  “Answer me!” he growls. I look behind me to see he’s undone his pants now. His hand is wrapped around his large cock, stroking it. There’s a stream of cum sliding from the head and I thrust my ass out as I watch it drop against me. My ass is red from the spankings, red and heated. I can feel the cum slide against my skin and I want more.

  I want a lot more.

  “I have. I’ve been teasing you. I’ve been a very bad girl, Santa. It wasn’t my fault, though.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No. I’ve been horny, Santa. I needed you to fuck me,” I moan, only admitting the truth. Eb got me all hot and bothered this morning in bed, but refused to finish me off. He said it was my punishment for making him dress up as Santa. I’ve been aching for him ever since.

  “I’ve been this wet. I’ve been so wet all night,” I tell him, my body practically causing the desk to shake with me when he finally thrust his fingers deep inside of me, raking them against my throbbing clit.

  “You need Santa to fuck you, Joy?”

  “Yes, please, Santa. I promise if you do, I’ll be good.”

  Eb pinches my clit hard, pulling on it and I cry out loudly, unable to stop myself.

  I feel him wrapping my hair around his other hand, while he keeps manipulating my clit with his other. I can feel my excitement build and I know I’m going to come just like this. The inside of my thighs are painted with my need. I can’t hold back much longer. I grab hold of the desk, trying to pull myself up on my weak legs, when he tightens his hold on my hair.

  His hand moves from between my legs and I cry out again, but this time in disappointment. His hand moves to my face and caps over my mouth to help silence me and I’m grateful. I bite into it, because I want to yell at him to bring the hand back to my pussy. Eb lets go of my hair and I’m almost terrified he’s going to leave me hanging again. I can taste myself on his hand, I’m so damn close. If he doesn’t put me out of my misery, I might start screaming and throwing things. I don’t care who finds us. Before I can try to move his hand and try and tell him that, his cock thrusts deep inside of me. My scream is a mixture of need and relief, but thankfully it’s muddled against his hand. His other hand bites into my hip and he takes over my body, moving me how he wants me as he tunnels his hard, massive cock in and out of me.

  “You better play with your clit, Joy, because Santa’s coming hard,” Eb groans. He didn’t need to tell me that though. My fingers are already working my clit as I feel the first jet of cum stream inside of me.

  “Yes,” I hiss, even though he probably can’t hear me.

  “So fucking good, Joy. Your pussy is so fucking good. Everything I knew it would be and more. That’s it!” he cries. “Squeeze my damn cock, milk all of that cum,” he growls and I do it. I take everything I can from him.

  Eventually he removes his hand, but he keeps me pinned on the desk by his warm body.

  “Eb,” I sigh, not sure what I want to say, just knowing I feel so much in this moment, I need to let him know.

  “Fuck, Joy. You may kill me.”

  I whimper, because I feel the same about him.

  “You don’t clean up. Don’t even think about it,” he orders me. He sits in a chair, his pants still down, and pulls me into his lap, my dress still gathered at my hips. If I had the energy, I’d giggle. I’m going to have to clean this desk before we leave. Margaret would die if she knew.

  “Eb, I have to. I have cum running down my legs.”

  “You have my cum, and I want it there. Every time I look at you tonight, I want to know you’re so full of my cum that it’s sliding out of you and you’re clenching that tight little pussy trying to keep it inside.”

  “But…”

  “Do it and Santa will show you what happens to girls who are on the nice list after the party.”

  “I doubt it could top the naughty list,” I laugh, just now starting to get feeling back in my legs.

  “Just wait and see, sweetheart,” he grins, and I can’t resist reaching up to hiss him briefly on the lips.

  “We better hurry. They need Santa out there to read to the kids.”

  “Jesus. It’s a good thing you just made me come,” he grumbles, helping me stand.

  I frown for a minute. Eb’s been kind of grumpy all night about this party and dressing up as Santa. I’ve shaken it off, because I thought he was just whining over having to play Santa, but more and
more I think it’s everything, the entire party. Which doesn’t make sense. He promised me he loved the idea of going to the party with me. He loves Christmas, he’s told me that over and over, and though I suspect, his love and mine aren’t exactly matching, he at least likes it a lot.

  Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, I rationalize, shaking it off. I heard him mention he’s behind on a deadline and this probably isn’t helping. I’ll have to make sure to reward him later. I smile up at him, as I help him put on Santa’s coat and after a minute he smiles back, squeezing my hand.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he says and again I frown, but I nod my head in agreement. I don’t know why I’m worrying, it’s probably because being with Eb is so wonderful, I’m scared something will ruin it. Which is just silly. The last few weeks have been wonderful.

  This will be the best Christmas ever and all because of Eb.

  19

  Eb

  The last little boy climbs up on my lap and it’s physically painful to see him. He looks so pale and weak. He can’t be over six years old. It’s fucked up that this is his reality, while other boys his age are running and playing ball and crying because they want the latest video game.

  “What can Santa bring you this year?” I ask him, doing my best to keep my voice jovial, loud and booming. I suck being Santa, but it seems to be making Joy happy.

  “Can you bring something to make my mommy happy?” the little boy asks and damn it, that is painful to hear. I can feel the pain lodge in my heart. I didn’t sign up for this. It’s bad enough Joy is having me prance all around as a jolly old fat guy, but I was happy in my little section of the world, I had my blinders on to everything and everyone else, they didn’t factor into my day to day and I’m just starting to see how fucking screwed up the world truly is. Or how I was.