Sunday, December 23, 2012
Merry Christmas! Today I have a guest blogger posting a very funny and, well, let's say unique holiday story. I hope you enjoy as much as I did! Enjoy!
I have to confess that I have a huge crush on Santa; I’ve always had a thing for older men. Working for his organization is a family thing. My mother still works for him. My father did too, before he deserted us shortly after I was born to run off with an elf with pointier ears than Mom. Last I heard, he had a gig acting in The Hobbit. No word on what became of Miss Pointy Ears, except rumor has it she dumped him for an elf from Lord of the Rings.
The weeks before Christmas are always wild and crazy in Santa’s workshop, and sightings of him are fleeting. However, today I am suddenly aware of The Man himself standing behind my chair, watching me work.
“Gah!” I say when I look up into his jolly face. I always considered his demeanor to be so—dare I say it?—gay.
Santa stroked his beard and looked down at my GI Joe. I could smell the scent of peppermint on his breath. For a moment, I got a whiff of mistletoe and frantically looked up, hoping someone had helpfully hung a sprig right above us.
“The sparkling pink pasties glued over his nipples are an interesting touch,” he finally said.
I held up my GI Joe masterpiece, pride washing through me. “Well, initially, they would be hidden by his uniform.”
Santa stroked his beard—such a sensuous caress—and nodded. “Ah, I see. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
He looked me in the eye. Me! I felt the tips of my pointy ears grow hot. Then he glanced down at my name tag. “Spock, is it?”
“My mother was a Trekker.”
It was the first time I hadn’t been teased about it, which caused me to fall even deeper in love than before...if such a thing were possible.
Santa looked thoughtful for a few, timeless moments before he asked, “Are you romantically involved with someone right now?”
What? I shook my head to clear my brain. What did he ask me?
He grinned. “Great. Why don’t you come over to my place for dinner tonight?”
“Gah!” was my eloquent reply.
Omigod. Dinner with Santa!
He slapped me on the back, a hearty—but assuredly intimate—gesture. “See you at six, my boy.”
Twinkle, the pretty elf who worked next to me, stared at Santa as he walked away. “Seriously?” she asked. “Dinner with The Man? None of us ever get invited to have dinner with him.”
To boldly go where no elf has gone before.
* * *
As I knocked on the door to his house, I pushed the multitude of questions out of my mind. The big one that had been bothering me all day was: what about Mrs. Claus? Had Santa sent her off to test drive the reindeer? I struggled with the moral dilemma of having dinner with a married man. What would my mother say? What if Santa wanted to kiss me? Should I play hard to get? Would he think me easy if I planted myself under any and all mistletoe I could locate? As waves of angst coursed through me, Mrs. Claus swung open the door and greeted me with a toothy smile.
“Hello, Spock! So glad you could join us this evening.”
In a daze, I stumbled inside their warm cabin and melted into a soft chair near the roaring fireplace.
“Would you like some hot cider, dear?” Mrs. Claus asked.
Mutely, I nodded.
Santa’s hearty laugh snapped me out of my stupor, and I jumped to my feet. Walking into the room at his side was another, younger man. Not as soft and cuddly as Santa, he was nevertheless handsome. And he was bald, just like Jean Luc Picard. A sigh escaped me. I liked bald men—the look was so...dare I say...phallic?
Santa introduced him. “Spock, this is my baby brother, Sven. He’s visiting from Sweden where he works on the Norwegian Nobel Peace Prize Committee.”
I took note of the smart military uniform Sven wore. “You serve in one of the armed services?” I managed to somehow ask, proud of myself for being able to finally master a complete sentence.
Sven grinned and gave me a coy wink. “No, but my brother told me how much you like men in uniform.”
He flexed his muscles, a button flew from his shirt, and I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a...no...could it possibly be? A pink pastie!
I swooned as visions of sugar plum fairies danced in my head.
Note From Devin O'Branagan
Valentino DeMitri is the most popular character I have ever created, and critics labeled him "the best gay character in fiction." He woke me in the middle of the night recently and dictated this holiday story to me. We hope it made you laugh. If you would like to discover the beauty, wit, and charm of Val, please read The Red Hot Novels. You can learn more at www.RedHotNovel.com
Red Hot Property is available as an eBook and in print at Amazon
Copyright © 2012 – Devin O’Branagan – All Rights Reserved
Wishing all our readers a joyful holiday season!
(Please note: All character representations associated with my stories are professional models.)
**Note from Keith: Please go to Devin's website and check out her books. They are wonderful. If you like the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich, you will love Molly O'Malley! Trust me, Devin has authored a book to please every type of reader.