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I stared into the mirror ignoring the knocks on the door. "Surely they couldn't make me do this!" I prayed, "this must be a joke."

"Colin, honey, you're going to be late, dad and I want to take your picture!" the voice called.

"Forget it mom!" I yelled, "I'm not doing this!"

"But I promised them you would! They need you!"

Maybe I don't look so bad; I lied to myself, and stole another look in the mirror. There was no getting around it; I looked like a total prat.

Here I was at 19 dressed like one of Santa's elves, green tights, pointy shoes, silly cap and all. For the 100th time I wished my mother ill for volunteering me to do this.

The pounding on the door took on a new timber, "Colin, get your skinny arse out of there and get down to the church, now!" my dad commanded.

With a heavy sigh I opened the door, my mom squealed with delight, "don't you look precious?" she smiled, raising the camera up and taking my picture. "Doesn't he look darling, George?"

"Yeah, he looks darling," my dad barely contained his mirth, "our own little Christmas faery!"

"I'm an elf." I grumbled, trying to hold on to some shred of dignity.

"Faery, elf, what's the difference?" my dad burst into laughter, and almost doubled up as tears ran from his eyes.

On the cold walk to the church I hoped my overcoat was long enough to cover the tights at the very least, but as I got to the steps a few of my school mates saw me and gave a wolf whistle, "Nice legs Colin!" one of them shouted, and they all hooted and one made a grab like he was going to pinch me.

The minister's wife scowled at me as I hung up my coat, "You're late! You were supposed to be here at half past."

"Bite me," I mumbled under my breath, "sod off bitch!"

I don't know if she heard me or not as just that moment the pastor grabbed my arm and propelled me to the meeting room that was done over as Santa's workshop. "All you need to do," he explained hurriedly, "is make sure the children don't go too nuts and help wrangle the wee ones that don't really want to be on Santa's lap."

There was another elf, a boy from my school that I had seen round but didn't know his name. He looked just as thrilled to be there as I was, we caught glances, and he quickly looked away, his face bright red.

There, on an armchair, decked in red velvet and gold ribbons, was Santa, I couldn't see who it was under all that beard and costume, but he had the voice down and the kids seemed to buy the ruse.

I managed to get through the night with only being bitten by one toddler, who I hoped wasn't total güvenilir bahis rabid, and kicked a handful of times and aside from a few kids who screamed in terror as I lifted them up to Santa's lap, almost deafening me, I felt I got out of the whole thing pretty easily.

As me and the other elf straightened things up, I wished I had brought regular clothes to change into, as the walk home would probably be just as embarrassing as the walk in had been. Especially as I had to pass the local on the way home, I was sure that the resident drunks would find me great sport.

Santa came back into the room, still in full costume, "either of you boys want a lift home?"

The other elf quickly declined.

"I'd like one, if you don't mind." I quickly answered, seeing a way out of the walk of shame home.

"Be out front in a few minutes, after you've changed," he said and started to leave.

"Um, I didn't bring clothes to change into," I admitted. Santa stopped and even through his beard I could see him grin.

"OK, come on then," he gestured and I followed him out to his car.

He opened the door for me and grabbed the ice scraper out of the boot, and cleared the windows as the car warmed up. After a few minutes he got back in, "What's your name, son?"

"Colin. You didn't have to stay in costume just because I'm in mine still, if you want to change I can wait," I offered. He didn't say anything to that. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Chris," he smiled, extending his hand, "Chris Cringle."

"Cute. No, seriously what's your real name?" I asked.

Again he didn't answer, concentrating instead on the road ahead. As we went straight past my house, I called out, "Hey, that's where I live!"

"I know," he said, "but I thought maybe you could use a drink after tonight's fun, I have some good scotch at my place." He stopped at the light, "you do drink don't you?"

I nodded, watching my house disappear in the rear-view mirror trying to act nonchalant about this turn of events. All I really wanted to do was go home, change into some jeans and a pullover and pretend the green tights never existed.

When we got to his flat he excused himself for a moment, gesturing for me to help myself to the fully stocked bar. I didn't know scotch from iced tea at that point so I just poured myself a glass of whatever was in the crystal decanter closest to me.

To my surprise he came out still dressed as Santa. The only thing he had done was removed his boots.

He poured himself a glass from the decanter too, sipped from it and sighed. I took a sip the burning türkçe bahis sensation from the liquid made me almost choke. Up until then I had only had the occasional beer or cheap sweet wine.

We drank in silence, with him topping off my glass when it got low. I was really starting to feel the effects of the scotch when he asked, "Do you want to sit on Santa's lap and ask him for presents?"

"Not really." I managed to get to my feet, "I think I should go."

He stood up too, "why? Have you been a naughty boy?"

"Look, thanks for the ride and the booze, but I really should go." I stumbled to the door and found it locked with one of those locks that needed a key to open it.

Santa laughed, pointing up above my head, "It's mistletoe, that means you must give me a kiss before you leave or it's bad luck."

"No way! Just let me out!" I pulled hard on the door trying to force it open.

"Not until you give me a kiss," he stood in front of me, arms folded, "it's just a kiss, my dear elf, I'm not asking a lot."

Fine, I thought, just a kiss. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "Now can I go?"

"That wasn't much of a kiss. I mean a proper kiss, like you give your girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend," I admitted.

"A proper kiss, then, one on the lips. Tongue is optional," he laughed.

I considered conking him on the head with the little Buddha next to door instead but I figured him waking up mad, calling the cops or just trying to find the key and all, maybe doing what he asked would be simpler. I leaned in and put my lips on his and counted to five before pulling back.

He cocked his head at me; "You sure are not going to get a girlfriend if you kiss like that."

"Like I need advice from an old perv in a Santa suit," I grumbled, "I did what you wanted, can I go now?"

"I'm not old," he said and started to undo his shirt, from the six pack abs he was sporting I could see he was quite a fit younger man.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to flatten myself totally against the door as he placed his hands on either side of my head, and leaned in.

"Giving you a proper kiss, one that will show you how you should be kissing someone," with that he grabbed the back of my head, laced his fingers into my hair and pulled me to him, and kissed me.

At first I was appalled, then some part of me rose to the occasion and I found myself kissing him back. He broke off the kiss and looked down at me. "Ho ho ho, what do we have here?" he chortled as he cupped me, "you are a naughty boy."

I pushed him away, "This is the last güvenilir bahis siteleri time I'm saying it nicely. Let me out now!"

"Do you really want to go, Colin?" he cooed, "if you stay I will make it worth your while."

I think all the blood had gone to my cock that combined with the booze made me intrigued by his offer. "I've never done this before," I almost whispered.

"What? Had sex with a man?"

"Had sex, period," then my brain kicked back in and in a panicked voice I said, "forget it, never mind. Just let me out of here. I think I should go."

"I promise not to hurt you or make you do anything you don't want me to do."

Before I could say anything else he knelt in front of me, yanked down my tights freeing my rock hard cock. It sprung up as he took it into his mittened hands, "so sweet," he murmured before running his tongue over it. By the time he had me fully into his mouth I was glad I was up against the door as my legs almost buckled under me. I closed my eyes and let the warm wetness of his mouth take over my mind and body. After a few minutes I came so hard that I swear I saw visions of sugar plums dancing in my head.

Afterwards he stood up, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, took the front door key from his pocket and opened the door. Without a word I pulled my tights back up, grabbed my coat and walked out into the cold night air.

The next night when I got to the church the pastor's wife was in a total fury. Santa hadn't shown up and the kids were getting restless. Since I knew where he lived I offered to go fetch him.

When I got to the flat I knocked on the door, and a middle aged woman open it. "Yes? Can I help you?" she said taking in my elf outfit with a smile.

"I'm from the church, Santa didn't show up tonight. Is he here?"

She looked at me funny, "Young man, I don't know what sort of prank you're pulling but aren't you a bit too old to believe in Santa Claus?"

"No, I mean the guy that lives here, who played Santa at the church last night. I didn't catch his name."

"You must have the wrong address. I live here, by myself and have for about ten years. Sorry I can't help you," with that she shut the door.

As I got back to the church the pastor was getting into a Santa suit, looking too over stuffed for the already generous costume. He and his wife looked at me expectantly, "He wasn't there. Do you happen to know his name?" I asked.

The pastors wife shook her head as she helped pull the belt close enough to be fastened around the pastor's girth, "he said his name was Chris Cringle, we thought he was being festive, caught up in the Christmas spirit!"

The pastor's face was turning splotchy red as he began to sweat in the hot costume, "I sure as hell would love to get a hold of that bastard now!" he growled.

Me too, I thought. Me too.