Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
“Yeah, ridiculous, but the kids are going to love it. Hold on, give me just a sec. I’m going to go change into my costume now, so I’ll be right back!”
I hope Cleo doesn’t notice that my voice is shaky and my knees wobbly as I practically run off to the men’s restroom. I rush inside, and then slam the heavy door shut.
“Fuck,” I curse, trying to catch my breath for a moment. Clearly, today’s going to be trickier than I thought because my saucy stepdaughter will be prancing around in that short skirt and tight top for the entire eight hours. Fuck fuck fuck. What do I do?
Well, right now, there’s only one thing. With agitated hands, I rip off my clothes, throwing them into a pile before pulling Santa’s costume out of my bag. My dick is throbbing, just begging to be stroked, but I resist the urge and shake my head at myself for even thinking about it. I can’t jerk off in the changing room of a department store while thinking about my stepchild dressed up as an elf because it’s just too wrong, even for an asshole like myself.
Grunting, I pull the pants of the crimson suit on. It looks terrible but fuck it. At least the top goes on alright, and the red fabric hangs low to cover my bulging crotch. The pillow will come later because at the moment, there’s no need to make myself look paunchy and overweight.
Lacing up big black boots, I exit the men’s restroom before heading back to our photography station. I can see Cleo’s form bustling about, and I take a few deep breaths. Stay calm, the voice in my head urges. You can do this.
Pasting a smile on my face, I approach our set-up. Everything looks great, and while I was gone, Cleo set out more of the props. There’s a plate of fake cookies on a nearby table, as well as a tall glass of white liquid (presumably milk?). Plus, there’s a long scroll on a red table with a list of names on it in curly script.
It looks great and I turn to compliment the brat. But at the moment, my stepdaughter is bent over, fiddling with something on the ground. Is she teasing me? I watch, growing hard once again, as that big bottom waggles. Then, she straightens and smiles.
“Do you like it?” she asks, gesturing to the props.
I nod.
“I love it, honey.”
“Perfect!” she chirps. “Why don’t you sit in Santa’s chair, and I’ll make sure that everything looks good in the frame. What do you say?”
“No, it’s fine,” I shake my head. “I still have some work to do.”
The pretty brunette pouts, folding her arms over her generous décolletage. “Don’t be silly, Brody. What work is there to do at this point? The set-up is all done and the mall isn’t going to open for at least another thirty minutes or so. Plus, I need to make sure that the props are positioned correctly, and the only way to do that is to do a test-run with everything in place.”
Before I can protest again, she grabs my wrist and pulls me over to the large chair. Goddamn, the curvy girl is surprisingly strong, and she half-drags, half-cajoles me over to the big Santa chair before pushing me down. Then, Cleo runs back over to the camera, a big smile on her face as she peers through the viewfinder.
“Perfect,” she hums. “Oooh, just one thing.”
The curvy girl darts forward from behind the camera, presumably to adjust some of the tree trimmings or fake snow. But before I can blink, Cleo’s climbed into my lab, giggling and bouncing a bit. She’s fragrant and soft, and unbidden, my hands surround that narrow waist.
“What are you doing?” I growl.
“Just testing different poses,” she giggles, wiggling around and making me groan. I throw my head back, trying to minimize contact but it’s impossible because the pretty brunette is literally grinding down on my erection now. Does she know what she’s doing? A quiet curse slips out of my mouth as I squeeze my eyes shut and imagine her sliding up and down on my length. Fuck she’d look so pretty doing that with her head thrown back as those big breasts bounce in my face.
But we can’t do this because this is fucked up on so many levels. As a result, I tense even as my fingers clench on her waist, sure to leave bruises.
“Cleo,” I rasp. “We’ve tested out the chair and it’s fine. You can get up now.”
Despite my words, I squeeze her waist again as if encouraging her to stay. The curvy girl senses this too and then giggles and turns to straddle me so that we’re face to face with a naughty smile on her lips. But instead of getting up, she leans in closer, pressing her mouth against my ear so that her breath is hot on my skin.