Good Monday morning, Orgiasts! Happy second Monday of December to you! I hope you have your shopping well under way for whatever holiday you celebrate, and for my friends celebrating Hanukkah, chag Chanukah sameach!

A few announcements before we get to the first part of my second Christmas flash story, “Stripper Claus.”

Em Woods has joined forces with another author to bring you a lovely, romantic tale of a man who redeems himself after a life spent pushing away those around him. Who’s this other author? None other than Charles Dickens! Click HERE to get your hands on Em’s re-imagined A Christmas Carol, now available from Total E-Bound, and find out some things about Ebenezer Scrooge Dickens never mentioned!

One more update – wow, lots of news this week! The stories from our Holiday anthology last year, And the Prompt Is… Holiday Edition, have been released as singles! Grab up one, two, or all five of the Story Orgy Holiday stories for just .99 each! Click on each of our names to hop on over to ARe for the stories: Hank Edwards, Havan Fellows, Lee Brazil, Em Woods, JR Boyd or hop on over to AMAZON for them: Hank Edwards, Havan Fellows, Lee Brazil, Em Woods, JR Boyd.

Okay! On with the story!! This is the first of two chapters I wrote based on prompts sent in by Jambrea Gaff:  Mall Santa, Fountain, and Stripper Pole. Ohh myy! Thanks, Jambrea! I hope you enjoy the story you helped me create.

Stripper Claus

Part One

by

Hank Edwards (c) 2012

Clay stepped out of the mall security office and adjusted his duty belt. If he were twenty years younger, and twenty pounds lighter, he knew he would look hot. He had muscle, he still worked out, but somewhere along the line his gut had gotten soft. Now, he just looked like a middle-aged guy prowling the mall on the lookout for rowdy teenagers, lost children, and shoplifters.

Merry fucking Christmas.

The smell of cigarette smoke made him turn his head. Millie, somewhere in her 70s and who worked the counter at Caroline’s Cookies, stood leaning against the wall with a 40 ounce soda in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Her gray hair, done up in tight pin curls, was covered with a net, and her dark plastic framed glasses reflected back the fluorescent lighting.

“You know you’re not allowed to smoke in here, Millie,” Clay said.

“Yeah, yeah.” She sighed, dropped the cigarette on the tile floor, and ground it out beneath her thick soled shoe. “How’s tricks, Clay? Nab any shoplifters today?”

“Not yet, my shift’s just starting.”

“So much merchandise,” Millie said with a shake of her head. “So little time.”

“How’s the cookie business?”

“Crumbling,” Millie said, and cackled a laugh before taking a long pull on the straw of her soda.

Clay grinned and shook his head. “I like you, Millie. Even though you smoke inside the mall.”

“I like you, too, Clay. You’re one of the fun ones. Hey, didja see that new Santa they got for the remainder of the season?”

“Harvey’s gone?”

“DUI.”

“Ouch.”

Millie shrugged. “Happens. New guy’s not as long in the tooth. Looks to be in better shape.” She waggled her eyebrows and grinned.

Clay frowned. “Santa in shape? Where’s the fun in that?”

She waved a hand at him. “Ah, he wears a padded stomach. I seen him putting it on while I happened to be walking past the men’s employee locker room.”

“You lurking around the door to the locker room again, Millie?”

She blinked innocently at him as she sipped her soda. “Like I said, I just happened to be walking past, that’s all. Go check him out for yourself, he’s down there right now.”

“You trying to set me up, Millie?”

“No one should be alone on Christmas, Clay.”

“You’re a peach, you know that?” Clay said, feeling a warm glow of affection for Millie’s thoughtfulness, even if he wasn’t too sure how he felt about trying to score a date with Santa.

“Yeah, tell that to my boss.” Millie snorted. “She’s sixteen and thinks she knows everything.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Clay said as he turned toward the hallway leading to the mall and the mass of shoppers. “Kids that age do know everything. They just forget more and more each year.”

“Be careful out there, Clay,” Millie called after him, and he raised his hand in acknowledgement as he walked away.

The mall was packed. More packed than Clay could remember, and he had worked security there for twenty years. The economy was recovering, slowly, and people had a bit more spending money, which they all seemed to be intent on spending this holiday season. Shoppers were loaded down with bags and boxes. They pushed carts and strollers and held the hands of or carried screaming, tired children.

Again, Merry fucking Christmas.

Clay made a circuit of the entire mall. As he let his gaze wander over the shoppers, he noticed a number of DILFs, Dad’s he’d definitely like to fuck. It was the weekend, so most of the hot daddies hadn’t shaved. Stubble darkened their faces, and their gazes were intense, focused, as they shouldered paths through the throngs of people. Clay got hard watching the big, brawny daddies push through the crowd, and he stopped in a men’s room to check on things. It was empty, surprisingly, so while he was there, he ducked into a stall and took a moment to adjust his package. He may be getting older, but he definitely still had logs on his fire. He stood in the stall, slowly stroking his cock and thinking about the daddies, imagined one of them in there with him, pushing Clay to his knees and telling him to suck it. Clay could almost taste the damp salty skin of the daddy’s cock, feel the wide, plump head scrape along the roof of his mouth and bump the back of his throat, taste the delicious bitterness as a flood of cum coated his tongue and the daddy grunted quietly above him.

The speed of Clay’s hand increased and he shifted his fantasy to think about… Who? Another anonymous daddy from the mall? A spray tanned porn actor? There was no one special in his life, hadn’t been for a long time. The collection of porn DVDs could only do so much for so long, and each visit to the bar scene made him feel five years older than the last.

Just like that, the mood was gone. Clay blew out a frustrated breath as his stroke slowed, and then stopped altogether. Tucking himself back inside his pants, Clay left the stall and washed up. He looked at his reflection for a moment, taking in his brown, receding hairline, blue eyes, and square jaw. He looked good for his age, just a little… sad, maybe. Something was missing. Someone was missing.

A group of loud teenagers burst into the restroom, quieting immediately on seeing Clay at the sinks. After giving the one he deduced to be the group leader a stern, pointed look, Clay left the restroom, his mood definitely darker than it had been at the start of his shift.

Three hours of patrolling the mall allowed him to nab four shoplifters, prevent three near fist fights over the last sale item, and stop a group of kids from spraying ketchup and mustard on the floor of the Coney Island. Clay was tired and more than a little grumpy as he walked past a store called Stripper’s Delight. It never failed to make him chuckle. The boom in popularity of stripper pole exercise classes had paved the way for a store dedicated to selling shoes, poles, outfits, and music for strippers. There were even poles set up in the back of the store for potential customers to try them out. Right here in a mall.

Clay stopped for a moment in the center of the mall where the four wings of stores came together. A fountain splashed and bubbled in the middle of the open court, and people sat around it at iron cafe tables. The long, long line of children and parents waiting to see Santa curled around the cafe tables like a massive, living wall, and Clay shook his head. Such a long wait, and the children would be exhausted and crabby by the time they got to Santa’s lap. Merry Christmas, here’s a photo, enjoy your day.

Right.

At that moment, above the noise of the crowd, the fountain, and the Christmas music piped in overhead, Clay heard  “Ho, ho, ho,.” The voice was a deep, rich baritone, and the timbre sent shivers down his spine. The shivers gathered in a spot just behind his balls, and Clay’s cock surged to life. This, then, was the hot Santa Millie had told him about. Well, he’d have to check Santa out.

Before he could spin a decent fantasy incorporating the red suit and some egg nog for lube, Clay was interrupted by a startled scream from Santa’s Castle. He reacted on instinct, making his way quickly through the surging crowd toward the raised platform. The exit area was blocked by curious onlookers, and Clay wedged himself between them, painfully aware of the number of people holding up cell phones in hopes of capturing something dramatic, anything, on video and selling it to a network news channel.

Clay climbed the steps people normally used to leave Santa’s Castle after visiting with the jolly old elf, and stepped onto the platform. He swept his gaze across the scene, taking in the details in seconds. Santa and several of his helper elves, really just high school age girls with fake ears and tights, knelt by a large woman who lay on her back, out cold. He knelt beside Santa, felt his knee knock against the man’s, and caught a flash of brilliant blue as Santa raised his eyes to look at him.

“Oh, good,” Santa said. “We need an ambulance. She’s passed out. Just went down hard when her daughter sat on my lap.”

“She breathing?” Clay asked, and reached down to take the woman’s wrist and feel for a pulse.

“Yeah, she is.” Santa glanced over his shoulder to where a young girl sat crying on his big gold throne. “That’s her daughter. I’m going back to talk with her, try to keep her calm.”

Clay met Santa’s gaze, felt something click even amidst the drama of the situation, and nodded. “Good idea. Thanks.”

He used his radio to call for an ambulance, and by then the woman had started to come around. She looked up at them, startled and scared, and Clay put a hand on her shoulder to keep her lying still. “You’ve fainted, but you’re okay.”

“Cassie?” the woman asked, and looked around with a frantic expression.

“Your daughter’s right over there with Santa, see?” Clay pointed and the woman lifted her head to see, then relaxed.

“I just felt dizzy, I don’t know what happened to me,” the woman said.

Clay glanced over at Santa, caught the man staring, and said, “I know what you mean.”

~~ * ~~

 Well, well, well. Clay’s having some naughty thoughts about Santa, isn’t that nice? Come on back next week for the conclusion of “Stripper Claus,” and see how I work a stripper pole into the storyline even more! Until then, be good and be good to each other. For now, however, hop on over to the other Story Orgy blogs with me for more hot, smexy reads.

 Lee Brazil     Havan Fellows     Em Woods      Jade Baiser

 Follow our tweets during the week:

Jade Baiser: @jadebaiser

J.R. Boyd: @JR__Boyd

Lee Brazil: @leebrazil

Hank Edwards: @hanksbooks

Havan Fellows: @HavanFellows

Em Woods: @EmWoodsAuthor