Elfin Magic

by R. G. Emanuelle

  Elfin Magic

  R.G. Emanuelle

  Dirt Road Books

  Copyright © 2017, R.G. Emanuelle

  Dirt Road Books, Inc

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, printouts, information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead or to business establishments or events is coincidental.

  Elfin Magic

  The tranquility in the Christmastown maze was broken only by the sound of moving parts and mechanisms at work. I strolled through it, taking the opportunity to center myself in those last moments before Christmastown opened to the public and things went nuts. There was something magical about the decorated trees, twinkling lights, and automaton figures beckoning to shoppers. The little worlds that Stanton’s Department Store created with stuffed animals, trains, and toys made people feel young and hopeful. Like anything at all was possible.

  At the end of the maze, I bypassed the rooms where multiple Santa Clauses would, within minutes, have hundreds of children (and some adults) sitting on their laps, and headed toward where I was working for the holiday season: Santa’s Shoppe. Once the kids had their photos taken with Santa, the adults came to me to have them printed and to pay for them.

  I entered the register area, clocked in on the computer, and waited for the madness to begin. While I quelled my roiling stomach with some tea, I contemplated how I’d ended up here, upselling photo packages in an elf costume, playing to parents’ sentiments to squeeze as much money out of them as possible. The first customers came, and the nonstop parade began.

  Four hours later, I ached to go on my break. My feet throbbed, and hunger made me lightheaded. While I keyed in my employee identification number to clock out on my register, the next customer in line stepped to the front. The woman, with long dark hair pulled back from her face with a headband, and delicate features with softly rounded cheeks and a small perky nose, held a little girl’s hand. The woman’s black coat was unbuttoned, exposing a tight, purple sweater underneath.

  I cancelled the clock-out sequence, then said, “Next customer in line. Right here.” It unsettled me to make eye contact with her, but I did, and waved her over. She smiled as she approached my register and handed me her ticket.

  “Hi, Merry Christmas,” I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster, considering the unnerving effect her dark brown eyes and intense gaze had on me.

  “Hey, I thought you were going on break,” my co-worker said.

  “Yeah. After this customer.” I turned back to the woman and smiled as I scanned her ticket. Photos of her child on Santa’s lap came up on the computer screen.

  She pointed at the customer screen. “Look, sweetie,” she said to the little girl.

  As the woman studied the screen and talked over the options with the girl, a smile grew on the child’s face, and warmth filled my chest.

  I became aware of my elf costume. Painfully aware. My green, one-size-fits-all smock with the ugliest flower pattern ever splashed across the chest and shoulders, my baggy red pants tucked into my fake boot coverings, and best of all, my hat with points and pompoms all around it. To completely humiliate us, they tagged us with special identification bracelets—fuzzy “white snow” stuff with our elf names glued on with sparkles. Mine said “Jingles.” Sexy.

  “Are you magic?” the little girl asked me.

  “Of course I am. I make all kinds of things happen.”

  There was a gleam in the woman’s eyes. A mischievous, wicked gleam. I put on my best elf face and asked, “What kind of photo package do you want?” There was a little more quaking in my voice than I would have liked.

  “What kind of package?” She raked her eyes over my chest.

  I almost choked on my saliva.

  “Oh, I think we’ll go for the Special Santa Package,” she said. “What do you think, Lindsay?” The child nodded her head. “Two of each picture, please. And the CD.”

  “Okay.” I fumbled with my mouse to print out the pictures and set up the CD files to process her order. When the photos came out of the printer, I busied myself putting them in the cheap cardboard frames that customers got for free. I felt her gaze on me but didn’t dare look up. Not only because I’d probably do something stupid, but I needed to keep moving so I could go on my break. My manager, who everyone called the Elf Overseer, enjoyed yelling at people, and I didn’t want to give him a reason to direct that at me.

  The little girl shrieked with laughter. “I can’t wait to show Daddy.”

  Damn! There’s a baby daddy.

  When I had everything in a bag, I looked up to hand it to the woman and my heart almost stopped. She was staring. Boldly, unabashedly staring, with a particular look in her eyes that made me feel naked, and for once, I was glad for my elf suit. My face was burning. The elfin world around me stopped for a year or two, until she reached for her bag.

  “Th-thank you,” I sputtered. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” she said, her soft, penetrating gaze locked on mine.

  She took little Lindsay by the hand and left. When she was out of sight, the throngs of people rippled into motion once again. The sound of the choir elves singing “Here Comes Santa Claus” rose up, and the smell of my own sweat told me it was time to take my break.

  * * *

  The Christmas season went by fast as hundreds of people wanted color memories of their children while they were still innocent and naive. I had been doing this for the last couple of seasons and had lost that wonder, that exuberant child-like enchantment that comes from Christmas. My enthusiasm had been diminishing over the years, but this job had just about killed it. And I hated my stupid elf name. It belonged to someone who still felt that magic.

  But there must have been magic in the air two days later, when she came back to the Shoppe.

  Like a drone, I was processing people’s orders with a happy-elf expression pasted on my face. “Next in line,” I called out.

  She stepped up to my register. The woman who had warmed my insides.

  “Oh. Uh, hi. Weren’t you here last week?” Yeah, that was smooth.

  “Yes, I was. You remember.” She beamed, as if she’d been given the thumbs-up signal for some secret plan. I locked my knees for fear they’d give in.

  “Yes. I do.” I dropped my gaze low to look for her little girl, but she wasn’t there. “Where’s your daughter?”

  She frowned before answering. “My what? Oh, the little girl I was with? That was my niece.”

  Her niece! A ripple of glee went from my chest to my groin.

  A twinkle of amusement lit her eyes. I don’t know how I tore my gaze away, but I spotted the Elf Overseer eyeing me. While pretending I was showing her photos, I smiled and said, “So, what are you doing here?” A furtive glance told me that the Elf Overseer was still watching me.

  “Aren’t you due for a break now?” the woman asked. “You were the other day, right around this time.”

  She’d remembered the time of my break? With my finger frozen on the face of some random child on the screen, I turned to her. “Uh, yeah. Soon.” I pretended to key in some numbers on the keyboard and tried to think of something witty to say. The woman stood there, her expression somewhere between hopeful and nervous, and my breath quickened.

  Another elf appeared behind me. “Go on break,” she said. My stomach did a somersault, and I couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or fear to be able talk to the woman for real. I clocked out and as I approached the half-door t
hat enclosed the register area, I became aware of my elf costume again and worried that any chance I might have with this woman would be gone as soon as I stepped out and showed myself in all my elf glory.

  She walked over to meet me. A big, pearly grin graced her features, and she leaned in and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear over the din, “That is the cutest outfit I’ve ever seen.”

  The warmth I’d felt that other day returned and covered me from head to toe.

  “Listen, it’s getting really hot in here,” she said. “Do you want to go somewhere quiet? I’d love to talk.”

  “Uh, yeah.” My brain raced as I tried to think of where we could go and have privacy. Then it came to me. Despite my better judgment, I said, “I know where.”

  “I’m Leisha, by the way.”

  Shit, I hadn’t even thought to ask her name. What the hell did this gorgeous woman with an exotic name want with me?

  When my brain kicked back into gear, I responded, “I’m Maddy,”

  “Nice to meet you, Maddy.” She held out her hand and I took it. She squeezed ever so slightly and accompanied the handshake with a searing look that would have taken down Mother Teresa.

  My tongue was dry, so I gestured for her to follow me.

  Through a maze of makeshift corridors constructed from particleboard and drywall, I led her to a display of stuffed bears. There had been some mechanical difficulties with it, so it was blocked off from the rest of Christmastown. All that stood between the crowds and the construction site was a black curtain.

  “What’s this?” Leisha asked.

  “You’ll see. We can have some privacy here.”

  The bears were mounted on a four-foot hut-shaped structure to create a cave, and the center was filled with additional bears. The display was supposed to be like a scenic Easter egg—you looked into the cave and there would be some scene enacted. A stupid idea from the get-go.

  One by one, I began removing bears from the center of the pile and tossing them aside. When I had dug out enough of the stuffed critters, I took Leisha by the hand and pulled her in. It was a tight squeeze. Cozy. We lay down on a mattress of police officer bears.

  “Should we be in here?” she asked with wicked glee.

  “No,” I said.

  From somewhere inside the cave, I heard a little jingle. All that fur created great acoustics but it also dulled sound, and I couldn’t tell where the noise had come from.

  “I have a confession,” she said, lying down across the bears. “I was here before I came with my niece. I told my sister I’d take Lindsay to see Santa, just so I could see you again.”

  “You did?” I could be suave when I wanted to, but Leisha was sweeping me off my feet and I was tongue-tied like never before.

  “Yes. I was shopping and I saw you on your break. Well, I assumed it was your break. You were sitting outside the entrance with a bottle of water.” She looked away shyly. A light blush rose on her face, barely visible in the light filtering through the gaps between the bears. It was so cute. “I was hoping to see you again.”

  I was a little lightheaded and my heart pounded. I swallowed as best as I could and cleared my throat. “After seeing me in this outfit? Hardly this season’s style.”

  Leisha gave me a come-hither smile. “You look adorable,” she said. And I knew she meant it.

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she continued, “but I’d really love to fuck you.”

  Don’t take it the wrong way? How does someone take that the wrong way?

  Despite my occasional lack of finesse, I’d never had a problem getting dates—women seemed to like a five-foot-eight, short-haired runner type, even if she made a freakish-looking elf—but I’d never had someone flat-out tell me something like that.

  A crazy thing happened when she looked into my eyes. Maybe she cast a spell on me like a Christmas witch or sent some kind of fishing line into my soul, but in that moment, I wanted to give her everything. It became important to please her, and I could easily picture us as a couple and having a life together.

  But right now, at this moment, this beautiful woman wanted to have sex with me and I was more than willing.

  I stretched out on top of her and slid my arms around her waist. Under the canopy of fur and miniature costumes, I could see her face clearly—smooth, sculpted cheeks and delicate lips—and I wanted to get to know every centimeter of her. The skin on her neck was warm and slightly damp as I kissed it, slowly. With her hand on my shoulder, she stopped me with a look of panic.

  “Suppose someone catches us?”

  “They won’t,” I said. What I really wanted to say was, “Who cares?” The thought of someone catching us actually gave me a little thrill. I straddled her leg and began grinding against her thigh as I continued kissing her. Our lips fit perfectly and glided together easily.

  Furry bears create a lot of heat, and sweat coated both of our faces. My breath was hot in my lungs, and she began to pant. We stopped to catch our breath.

  “Ouch,” Leisha said. “Something just stabbed me.” I reached beneath her to see what had poked her. A little plastic badge was sticking up in a most awkward position. She laughed. “I’ve never made out in a pile of bears before.”

  “So, there are things you have done in a pile of bears?” I asked, waggling an eyebrow.

  She gasped, the mischief in her eyes and the slight upturn of her mouth indicating that the thought titillated her. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to bring her exquisite pleasure, in a plush world of softness and comfort, any way she wanted it.

  A sound caught my ear. There it was again—a jingling. Leisha didn’t seem to hear it, probably because she was too busy dispensing with her shoes and pants. I tried to make more room for us by shoving her things against one stack of bears, and the walls began to wobble. I froze, waiting for the whole thing to either stop wobbling or collapse altogether, revealing the sins of the flesh as committed by two lesbians to the sounds of the faithful visiting Christmastown.

  Thankfully, the walls stopped wobbling. I exhaled and began unbuttoning her shirt. At the same time, she pulled at my costume, so I sat up to take it off. My clothes were a little more complicated than hers, however. I’d already dispensed with the hat, and it sat absurdly in a little pointed heap by the cave entrance. My costume pants, now damp, clung to my jeans like plastic wrap. I sat up, pulled off the fake boot covers, and rolled the pants down until I was able to remove them. By the time both pairs of pants were off, I was so hot that my elbows and knees were sweating, and my face flamed with heat. No doubt it was beet red. I pulled the stupid smock over my head and tossed it aside. The bemused look on Leisha’s face would normally have unnerved me, but I was a woman on a mission.

  When I finally got her blouse open, I was stunned by the sight of a red satin bra with white feathery trim. A sexy Mrs. Claus. Right between her breasts was a single bell.

  “So, that’s where that jingling was coming from,” I said, completely enchanted. “I thought I was losing my mind.”

  She just smiled.

  My lips dampened with the sweat between her breasts and the feathers tickled my cheeks. I glided down her middle, my lips hovering just above her skin, and she shivered. When I reached the top of her panties, I stopped. They matched the bra, with a tiny white bow and a little bell in a very strategic place.

  “Do you wear Christmas underwear all season long?”

  She looked at me, with a flash of wickedness and shook her head. “Uh-uh.”

  Holy crap.

  The satin was smooth beneath my skin, and I brought my index finger down to tinkle the bell. She squirmed, and my already blazing desire was turned up even more. I lifted the bra over her breasts, which fit perfectly in my hands when I cupped them, and she moaned. I reached down to her hips to pull off her panties, but stopped. She’d gone to the trouble of putting on this sexy underwear, I felt bad taking them off. But, as it turned out, I didn’t have to because they were crotchl
ess. Well, they had a crotch, but it was open in the center for easy access. I dipped my finger into her wetness. She lifted her hips, inviting me in, but I wanted to feel her from the outside a while longer.

  The sounds of Christmas cheer got louder outside the bear cave as the afternoon throngs descended on Christmastown and the heat of frenzied humans reached our huggable hideaway. I licked Leisha’s moist skin, from her throat to her shoulders, and she sucked in her breath. I pushed my thigh into her crotch, bumping it gently but firmly.

  Above the Christmas din came another sound. The jingling sound. It was faint at first, but the harder we rocked, the louder it became. It reminded me of a classic Christmas story: It started in low, then it started to grow.

  I looked down at Leisha’s bra, bunched up above her breasts, and knew that it wasn’t that, and it couldn’t be the underwear, as my thigh was still pressed into her. I stopped, remained still, and listened. But the jingling had stopped, too, so I continued kissing her.

  Again, the little jingle.

  I looked up sharply, intent on discovering the source of the sound. Holy shit, it was the bears. The bells on their little coats and hats were tinkling away. It sounded like we were riding in a sleigh that just happened to be pulled by a team of furry bears. I knew no one would hear us—the real problem was the integrity of the structure.

  Leisha took my hand and pushed it downward, sending a clear message of “fuck me.” So I brought my hand back between her legs and continued stroking her.

  The walls began to wobble again, the whole thing threatening to come crashing down.

  Jingling and swaying. And hot as hell.

  We were going to get caught for sure. In the midst of the Christmas jolly that was being had all around us, we were going to get caught butt-ass naked.

  I was trying to decide what to do when voices came from outside the structure. It was not the voices of visitors going through Christmastown on the other side of the curtain. These were clearer. Closer.