Candy Canes & Christmas Cheer - NSFW

Roz hated the holiday season. Nothing sucked the “goodwill toward men” out of her more than working retail during the holidays. Between the sucky hours and the incredibly rude customers, this time of year was just not her thing.

 

She hadn’t partaken in much Christmas cheer for almost a decade. This year was especially sour since her breakup with her fiancé of seven years this past summer. This would be the first Christmas without him in over half a decade, and she wasn’t quite ready to face it.

 

Sarah, one of Roz’s coworkers, invited her to a Christmas Eve shindig at this huge historical mansion in town. It was an event put on every year as a fundraiser or something. Sarah had an extra ticket as her sister bailed on her.

 

Roz told her she appreciated the invite, but Christmas parties weren’t really her thing. She was never really in the Christmas spirit, and this year, even less so. Roz wanted to just wallow until the new year, to be honest. She suggested that Sarah ask Amanda, one of their other coworkers.

 

Roz just wanted to get through her shift and have the next week off. Christmas day would be spent with her entire dysfunctional family at her grandmother’s house. She needed a night to mentally prepare. She silently wondered how many political fights and arguments over football or food would happen.

 

Her nose scrunched as she tried to push the thought away. Roz took a breath, and she eyed the clock. One hour. Sixty minutes. Four fifteen-minute blocks. The last hour of her shift went by without any incidents. She wasn’t ready to face her empty apartment yet, so she headed to the neighborhood pub, The Lazy Tap. She slid onto a stool at the end of the bar closest to the door.

 

“Hey, Willy,” she called to the bartender.

 

“Hey Roz. What’ll you have tonight?” he asked cheerily.

 

“Just give me a beer,” she said as she gave him a dismissive wave. She slipped out of her coat and draped it over the stool to her left.

 

“You got it.” He ducked down to grab a cold mug out of the cooler before he poured her a beer. “So, are you doing here on Christmas Eve?” he asked.

 

“What every other sad sack is doing in here, wallowing. Not ready to go back to my shit hole apartment.”

 

“I felt that,” he said in a sympathetic tone as he set the beer in front of her. “No family stuff?”

 

“Nah, that shitshow is tomorrow afternoon, thank god.” Her tone was surly. Willy knew that it was a tough year for Roz. She started coming in after she moved to the neighborhood in July after her breakup.

 

A man dressed as Santa came in and bellied up to the bar two seats from Roz. This annoyed her in the most irrational way. The entire bar was open, why sit so close? Weirdo.

 

“Merry Christmas, all!” he said in a booming voice before he set his large dark red present sack on the floor. “A round for the house!” he called.

 

The five other patrons cheered their thanks to Santa. Roz just raised her pint toward him as a gesture of appreciation, despite being annoyed at his boisterousness. He was a large man, but not fat, built. Like a brick shithouse. His beard was silver and gray, but nicely trimmed and maintained. His sterling and slate hair spilled down his shoulders from under his hat. If she wasn’t so annoyed, he might be hot.

 

Willy doled out the drinks to the other patrons before he set another in front of Roz. Santa clasped his black-gloved hands in front of him.

 

“Thanks, Willy,” she muttered softly. She swirled her finger around the pint glass’s rim and got lost in her melancholy thoughts. Willy turned to the big man.

 

“What will you have, Santa?” he asked as he walked over to him.

 

“I’ll have…” he paused as he looked around. “What she’s having,” he said as he gestured to Roz.

 

“How are you doing?” Santa asked her.

 

“No offense, but I’m at a bar on Christmas Eve. How do you think I am?”

 

“Not a pleasant holiday so far?”

 

“The holidays are never good. This year is just worse. You seem to be having a grand Christmas,” she said before she took another drink from her glass.

 

“So far, yeah, it’s been good. Just needed a quick break tonight.”

 

“Good for you, bud. Must be nice that you’re having such a good day, but please go have it over there,” she said before she pointed to the end of the bar. Her bitterness was seeping into her tone. She turned away from him, trying to end the conversation.

 

“You want to talk about it?” he asked her, voice soft. Roz turned and looked over her shoulder with a sneer.

 

“I’m not going to spill my guts to a stranger, my guy.”

 

“I’m a good listener. I’ll even buy you another round.”

 

“Take a hint,” she said before she flipped him the one-finger salute. He straightened up on his stool.

 

“Rosalyn Riggs, you have a bad attitude, and it needs to be adjusted.”

 

“Oh yeah? You gonna adjust it for me, old man?” she asked as she hopped off her stool and stood in front of him, not catching that he used her full name.

 

Santa stood and snapped his fingers. A golden shimmer filled the bar and expanded outward. Wherever the gold touched, time slowed. She watched as if everyone in the bar stopped as if they were wind-up toys and their keys stopped turning. Roz turned and ran to the front window of the bar, peering outside.

 

Everything was frozen in time. The falling snow, the cars, and they were all statue still. She turned around and walked toward the man dressed in red and white.

 

“Santa?” she asked in a small voice, her eyes wide.

 

“Well, I ain’t the Easter Bunny, am I? Now, are you gonna adjust your attitude, Rosalyn… or do I need to?” Roz was annoyed again. She hated it when people used her full name, and she didn’t care if he really was Santa. She wasn’t going to let a man speak to her like this.

 

“First, it’s Roz, and second, you don’t know me,” she said as she stabbed a finger in his direction.

 

“I know you’ve got a piss poor attitude and a serious lack of Christmas spirit.”

 

“If you had the year I have had, you wouldn’t have Christmas spirit either. Let’s just get that straight,” she yelled at him.

 

“I know you’ve been through a lot this year. Between the breakup, the new job, and starting over in a new town, it’s been rough. Roz, you can’t wallow in unhappiness forever. You need to move on. You need to heal.”

 

“What are you, my therapist?! You don’t know what I need,” she said as she crossed her arms. He moved closer to her; his black-gloved finger tipped her chin up so her eyes met his.

 

“Yes, I do. I’m more than some jolly ol’ fuck who brings kids their Legos and Squishmallows,” he rumbled softly. “I can take care of what adults need too.” She raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

 

“Oh yeah? What do I need, Santa?” she asked, her voice smooth and sultry.

 

“You need to forget, at least for a little while,” he said as he moved a dark curl away from her face. Santa paused before he leaned down, his face inches from hers. “And I can help with that… if you’ll let me.” Roz leaned in, her face even closer than before.

 

“I don’t need your Christmas cheer,” she whispered before she grabbed his nose between her fingers and wiggled his face before she lightly slapped him. “I need a beer.” The large man picked her up by the hips, kicked the barstools out of the way before he planted her ass right on the bar. She was a few inches taller than him now. He nestled himself between her legs and rested his gloved hands on her thighs as he looked up into her brown eyes.

 

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want to give in. Let go. Tell me you don’t want to forget, even if it’s just for an hour. Tell me to fuck off and I’ll go,” he said, his voice low and tempting. She dipped her head to lightly brush her lips along his. As soon as their lips touched, it lit a fire within her, and she wanted more.

 

Her hands grabbed his face, and she deepened the kiss. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, the apex of her thighs against his belly. Roz’s tongue licked the line of Santa’s lips, a small plea for entry, and he obliged. Her tongue and his wrestled and explored each other’s mouths as their bodies shifted against one another.

 

The friction of their bodies against her pussy sent sparks arcing along her nerves. It had been so long since anyone else had touched her there, indirectly or not. She gripped him tighter, her kisses and touches becoming more desperate. Santa’s hands slipped up her back to hook over her shoulders. He pulled back and their eyes met.

 

“I need to know–” Roz cut him off.

 

“Shut up and fuck me. Now.” Santa grinned a crooked grin.

 

“Well, I do come only once a year, and I’m about to stuff your stocking.” Roz laughed.

 

“I knew I could make you laugh,” he chuckled. She poked a finger into his chest.

 

“Less talking, more fucking.”

 

“As you wish, ma’am,” he said as he winked at her before he took a step back. He grabbed each of her feet before he slipped her boots off. Before he could make his way back to her, she had slipped her sweater over her head, revealing a red lacy bra. He gave her a cheeky smirk.

 

“What?” she asked as she returned the smirk in kind.

 

“Ooh, festive.” They shared a giggle before he reached for the top of her black leggings. Before he could peel them off, her hands reached for his face again. Their mouths crashed together like a stormy sea against the shore. Roz’s hands gripped and pulled at the supple red leather of Santa’s coat.

 

A soft chuckle drifted from his chest as he stepped back. He slipped his gloves off before his hands moved to his belt. Santa unfastened it quickly and let it fall to the floor. He then slid his heavy coat from his shoulders, revealing a red leather vest with gold buckles. Under the vest was a white linen shirt with flowing sleeves.

 

He grinned at her as his nimble fingers made quick work of the buckles with practiced ease. Roz watched him undress and as small parts of him were revealed, she could barely contain her desire. Her pussy throbbed as she watched his massive hands work and his thick arms under his shirt ripple.

 

Once his vest joined the rest of his clothes on the floor, Roz reached for him again. She slid his shirt over his head, and the sight of his bare torso stole her breath. His skin was covered in tattoos. Some Celtic, some Norse, some were symbols she’d never seen.

 

Her hands gently smoothed over his skin and traced the lines and symbols. “I… wow,” was all she could muster. Santa looked down at the ink.

 

“Oh, yeah. It’s a shock to most people. My image is a bit more strait-laced than I really am. Thousands of years of good PR will do that,” he said before he gave her a wink.

 

She gripped Santa as she pulled him to her, their lips meeting in a desperate impact. His arms crushed her to his body, and Roz’s hands touched and explored him as their mouths continued to ravage one another. His body was solid, but there was a softness to him.

 

Santa’s embrace slackened as his kisses moved from her mouth to her jaw, to her neck and lower. Her hands planted behind her, supporting her as his mouth left a hot trail of wet kisses down her chest and belly before his fingers curled around the top of her leggings.

 

Roz nodded as she lifted her ass off the bar and Santa ripped her leggings and panties down and off her legs. She was left in only her red lacy bra with her legs eagerly spread, waiting for her present.

 

Santa’s hands slid up the inside of her thighs, parting them further until she was completely on display for him. Her cheeks were pink and hot, and her heart hammered in her chest. She’d never been exposed like this before. The feeling of his eyes on her like this sent a jolt to her already trembling cunt.

 

Roz watched as Santa lowered his head between her legs. His breath ghosted along her overheated skin, and it sent a shiver through her, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. He softly snickered before he laved a flat tongue up her slit.

 

“Oh fuck,” Roz breathed. He dipped between her lips to find her clit and swirled his tongue around it. One of Roz’s hands made its way under Santa’s hat, fingers tangling in his silver locks. His hat fell to the floor, joining their pile of clothes.

 

Santa’s hand skimmed up her leg to tease at her entrance. He pulled his face back and let his fingers dance along her slit and across her clit. He used his thumb to run tight circles around her nub as her back arched and her head fell back.

 

She opened her eyes, only to be nearly face to face with Willy. A small yelp of surprise leaped from her mouth and Santa was startled.

 

“What is it, Roz?” Her wide eyes darted to Willy’s statuesque form in the middle of pouring a beer. “Oh,” Santa chuckled. “He can’t see you. None of them can,” he said as he pointed to the rest of the patrons.

 

“Oh. That’s… good,” she said weakly. She waved her hand in front of the bartender’s eyes, and not a muscle moved. She was slightly disappointed that no one could see. The thought of them seeing her spread open like a slut like this filled her body with a white-hot hunger. To see, and to be seen.

 

Roz imagined that Willy, the patrons, and even a few pedestrians were peering in and watching. She imagined all eyes were on her, and it made her pussy throb with excitement. The arousal dripped from her at her lascivious thoughts.

 

Santa resumed his ministrations, fingers sliding across her clit and down through her folds. He slipped a thick finger inside her, making her keen. He slowly worked his finger in and out of her, curling as it slipped inside each time.

 

Roz trembled with each slow thrust of his hand, her body shaking at each tease of his finger. “Shiiiit.”

 

Santa grinned as he slowly added another finger. “Oh, so you like…” his fingers pressed up, “that?” His voice was low and rumbling, more of a confident statement than a question. His fingers curled expertly to caress that spot deep inside, stealing her breath.

 

She found herself sobbing at the intensity of his touch. “Fuuuck,” she whimpered. He watched as her eyes closed and her head tipped back. He chuckled before his tongue took its place on her clit.

 

His tongue slipped around her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her. His mouth alternated between licking and sucking her nub. The pressure built quickly. It wasn’t going to take much more to send her over the edge. She whimpered and whined with each touch.

 

“Good, good girl. Come on, let go,” he rumbled against her pussy. The vibrations raced through her like a shot.

 

“Fuck,” she howled.

 

As Roz chased her high, her hips met every stroke of his fingers and every sweep of his tongue. The exquisite blend of touches and sensations sent her soaring up and up.

 

“That’s my girl,” he praised as he continued his performance of pleasure.

 

“Like that, fuck,” she commanded, as she gripped his hair and ground against his mouth. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” she chanted breathlessly.

 

Her head swam and her breaths came in gasps as she tipped over the edge and crashed into her orgasm. Her body jolted and shook as she rode out the waves. Santa never missed a beat and continued to work her over with his tongue and fingers. Her cunt convulsed and pulsed around his digits, begging for more.

 

Santa kept his pace as her body trembled and her hands pushed weakly at him as her gasps turned to giggles.

 

“Too much,” she quietly tittered. Santa pulled away to watch her body quiver and pant. A low chuckle bubbled from his chest as her eyes slowly opened. “Fuck, St Nick,” she said breathlessly.

 

“You feelin’ that Christmas spirit yet?” Roz gave him a faux-thoughtful look.

 

“Oh, I don’t know…” she paused and hopped down from the bar in front of him. “I think… I need a little more,” she purred as she rubbed his cock through his soft trousers.

 

“Oh, yeah?” Santa asked with a raised eyebrow. Roz leaned in even closer and gripped his length with a firmer hand. His eyes closed and a soft grunt liberated itself from his throat. His cock felt enormous in his pants as she stroked him through the fabric.

 

“Absolutely,” she hummed as her hand’s tempo increased as she rubbed him.

 

“Well, in that case,” he paused as he clapped a meaty hand on her ass. “I’m gonna shove so much Christmas cheer so far up your ass, you’ll be ring-ting tingling until Valentine’s Day. But first, let me get a look at you, girl,” he said as he spun her around. Roz giggled as she did a pirouette on her toes.

 

“So, what’s the verdict, Santa?”

 

“Turn around again baby… you know how I like to check everything twice,” he said before he spun her around again. She laughed a hearty laugh before he gave each cheek a smack. “Mmm, very nice. Now, go bend over that pool table,” he said as he pointed to the table right in front of the large picture window at the front of the bar. Roz did as she was told while Santa went to his sack and pulled something out.

 

Santa found her bent over the pool table, just as he had instructed. Her hands were stretched out, rolling the cue ball in her hands and her ass and pussy were on display for him as he came up behind her. His hand roamed over the curve of her ass before he gave it a light slap. She looked over her shoulder at him with a cocky smirk on her lips.

 

“You gonna rack me up, big boy? Or, what about that famous Christmas cheer you plan on shoving up my ass?” she asked as she wiggled her behind at him.

 

“It’s right here, baby,” he said, and he produced a small Christmas tree shaped butt plug with a red jeweled base.

 

“O Tannenbaum,” she chuckled. “We’re gonna be rockin’ around the Christmas tree, huh?” she laughed again.

 

“Keep laughing, Roz, or you’re not going to get my candy cane. You’ve been such a good girl so far. You wouldn’t want to ruin it for yourself, would you?”

 

“All I get is a candy cane?” she pouted.

 

“Oh, sweet girl,” he guffawed before he ran his fingers through her folds, gathering her slick before his finger teased around her asshole.

 

“Oh,” was all she managed as he slipped his finger slowly into her.

 

“That’s what I thought.” He worked her open as she squirmed and panted beneath him. Once he was satisfied that she was ready, he slipped the plug into her cunt to gather as much of her slickness as he could before he notched it at her tight ring of muscle. He slipped the first tier of the tree into her, making her swear.

 

“Fuck, more… please,” she cried. He obliged by slipping the next tier into her. As if Roz’s body had its own ideas, she pushed back to take the third tier until the jeweled base was snug between her cheeks.

 

“O Tannenbaum, indeed,” he said before he flicked the jewel with his finger, sending a shock through her. He flicked it again and watched her body buck with the vibrations it produced. He chuckled before he worked his pants open.

 

Santa’s cock was veined and thick, and leaking pre-cum. He gave it a couple of light strokes before he settled in behind Roz. He teased the bulbous head of his cock through her folds, making sure to bump her clit, making her hiss. “Here comes Santa Claus,” he said before he pushed in. The stretch was exquisite. Her cunt yielded to his girth like a hot knife through butter.

 

“Fuck,” she cried. “Fuck, that’s big,” she whined as her fingers scratched at the felt of the pool table. She felt as if he’d split her in half. The burn of the stretch stung at first, but it evolved into a buzzing tingle as he hilted himself inside her.

 

“It’s alright. I’ll make it fit, sweet girl. You can take it; I know you can.” Santa paused his hips, giving Roz a moment to adjust to his size.

 

“Wait,” she panted.

 

“Yes?” Roz swallowed twice before she could get the words to spew out.

 

“I want one other present.” Her heart thudded in her chest. She never thought she would utter this out loud, let alone tell someone. Roz took a deep breath.

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“Just… for a moment or two… I want you to unfreeze everything. I want everyone to see me. Like this. I want them to see you fucking me stupid over this pool table. Only for a moment, just enough time for everyone’s eyes to lock on us, and then freeze it again. I want all eyes on me…”

 

“I think I can do that for you, but you’ve got to be loud for me. I want to hear how good this cock feels, and how much you love it,” he said as he pulled back and thrust forward, forcing a whine out of her.

 

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” she breathed out.

 

“Alright doll, you tell me when you want to be seen, and you will be. Until then, you’re mine.” Roz’s legs shook as Santa’s pace started out slow. “That’s it, look at that. You take my cock so well,” he praised. “I told you I’d make it fit.”

 

“More,” she pleaded. A devilish smirk curled Santa’s lips.

 

“More what, sweet girl?” he asked. “More of this?” he asked as he thrusted into her with force, making her cry out.

 

“Yes, fuck,” she sobbed. “Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me harder!” she demanded, as her fingers scratched the green of the table.

 

“Oh, is this what you want?” he asked as he dug his fingers into her hips, making her yelp.

 

“Please! Fuck, you feel so good.”

 

“What if I let the time magic expire right now and everyone sees you being railed like a filthy little slut against this pool table?” Roz’s cheeks grew red, and her cunt quivered at the thought of everyone’s eyes on her, with her legs spread, getting fucked brainless. “You’d like that too much, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yes, fuck, please!”

 

“Oh yes, sweet Roz, I know you would. I feel your cunt drooling now, even as I fuck you silly… but have you been a good enough girl? Hmm?” Every hard thrust of his hips forced a whine, moan, or whimper from her. She found her strength to respond between each rough drive.

 

“Please, please! I am your good girl. I will be so good for you,” she cried. “Fuck, Santa, please. Show them how good I am. Show them! Let them see I’m your good girl,” she sobbed against the green top of the pool table. The threat of the bar patrons seeing her was sending her body into overdrive.

 

“Oh, honey, you make a strong case. Look at you… such a beautiful mess. My good girl wants it so much, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, fuck, please,” she wailed. Her breaths came in gasps and her cunt begged for more, squelching on each of Santa’s thrusts. “Now!”

 

“Darlin’, get ready to scream,” he said as he snapped his fingers. Roz watched over her shoulder as the bar resumed, as if time had never stopped. Willy was pouring a beer. The people at the tables were laughing and drinking. Santa wiggled the plug in her ass, making her cry out.

 

Willy must have caught their movement out of the corner of his eye, heard Roz’s howl of pleasure or heard the sound of Santa pounding into her wet pussy. He looked up as confusion and recognition painted his face. The rest of the bar shushed as all eyes turned to them. Santa snapped his fingers once more, and that golden glow flowed out around the bar, freezing everyone in place once more, but this time, their unseeing eyes were upon them.

 

Roz’s cheeks burned and her clit buzzed. As he fucked her, she could feel herself riding the wave as it built momentum. It threatened to crest and swallow her whole. Santa wiggled the plug in her ass again, and that was all she needed. The wave crashed over her, stealing her breath and consuming her.

 

She convulsed around Santa’s cock, and that pulled him under, too. With a groan, he reached his peak. His cock pulsed and quivered inside her, painting her cunt with rope after rope of sticky cum. He leaned forward on his hands to catch his breath.

They stayed that way for a few moments as their bodies glistened and heaved in their recovery. Santa pulled himself from the sheath of Roz’s body and a hiss escaped her.

 

Before he could do much else, she rasped out a desperate, “Wait!”

 

“What is it, my good girl?” He asked as he watched her stand and turn to him. She dropped to her knees and looked up at him.

“A good girl cleans up her mess… and I want a taste of that candy cane,” she said as she leaned forward. Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lifting it to her lips.

 

It was sticky and shiny with their combined orgasms. In a long, slow motion, she dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock. The mix of their flavors was a heady cocktail, but there was something else.

 

Once she reached the tip of his cock, she slipped it between her lips. He was so thick; he stretched her mouth to its limit as she did her best to swallow him down.

 

Santa groaned, and it was his turn to bury his hand in her hair as she sucked his cock. She slid his length down her throat as far as she could. Her nose brushed the soft salt and pepper hair at the base of his cock. There it was again… that something more underneath it all. Minty. He smelled and tasted faintly minty.

 

Santa’s knees seemed to grow weak as he wobbled. “Fuck,” he muttered.

 

She pulled back, licking and sucking their blend from his skin before letting him fall from her mouth.

 

“You alright, big man? Need a minute?” she asked, a smirk painting her mouth.

 

“You’re entirely too good at that.”

 

“Consider it a gift,” she laughed.

 

“Oh, I do,” he chuckled as he held out a hand to help her up. They walked back over to where their clothes were discarded and began to dress. They stole glances at each other and shared a few giggles as their flesh slowly disappeared under layers of warm clothes.

 

“Stay for another beer?” she asked as she pulled her sweater on.

 

“I would, love, but I need to finish my route, but I’ll tell you what; if you’re still awake in your apartment when I swing back round this way, I’ll drop in for a bit. Deal?”

 

“Deal.” They shook on it. Santa was about to snap his fingers to let the time magic expire, and Roz rested her hand on his. “Wait.” Santa’s eyebrow reached for his hairline.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Roz slipped behind the bar and stuck her finger in her mouth to wet it, and she stuck it in Willy’s ear. “That’s for eye fucking my tits and this,” she paused before she gave his other ear the same treatment. “Is for bugging me to hook up with you. And this,” she said before she messed up his hair, “is just because you’re a dill weed.” Willy’s usually sleek look was now rumpled and sticking straight up.

 

“Feel better?” Santa asked.

 

“Actually, yeah. I do.”

 

“Good. I hope you enjoyed your Christmas Eve.”

 

“Oh, it’s not over yet, big man. I will see you later.”

 

“Ho, ho, ho, you bet you will,” he boomed before he kissed her cheek. “Off I go,” he said before he walked to the door. He snapped his fingers and slipped out quietly. The bar hummed back to life, the patrons murmuring and drinking. Roz took her seat again.

 

“Another beer here,” she called to Willy.

 

“Hey, where did that Santa guy go?”

 

“He left.”

 

“He left?” Willy’s eyebrow raised at her as he poured another pint. He looked like he was chewing on a question. Roz could guess what it was.

 

“Yeah. He left a while ago; you just didn’t notice. What’s up, Willy? You look like you just sucked on a lime.”

 

“Did… you guys hit it off or something?”

 

“Uh, no? I told him to get lost. That’s not really a ‘come hither and take me ye old jolly fuck’ invitation.” Roz played dumb.

 

“Are you sure? Because, like… So, like this is going to sound crazy, but… Did… did I see you getting fucked by Santa Claus?” Roz laughed heartily and waved her hand. When she could compose herself, she patted his hand.

 

“Willy, I think you’ve had too much. When have I ever hooked up with someone from this bar? Never. Next, you’re gonna tell me there are gremlins running around on Christmas Eve messing stuff up,” she chuckled as she sipped the beer in front of her. She watched Willy stick his pinkies in his ears, no doubt wondering why they were wet. She couldn’t wait until he saw his hair.

 

Roz bowed her head and laughed into her beer. She noticed there were small bowls of Christmas themed wrapped candies every few feet or so on the bar. Roz reached her fingers in and found just the one she was looking for… a small red and white candy cane. She snickered and looked back up to Willy with his now idiotic hair style, thanks to her.

 

“Hey Willy, have you sucked a candy cane yet today?” She slowly unwrapped the candy cane from the plastic cellophane wrapper. “This is my second one today. They remind me so much of Santa.” Willy’s eyes were transfixed on her as she ran her tongue along it. “I just love sucking on these,” she said before she winked at him. “Don’t you, Willy?”