[This was published last year and remains a fan favorite.  Sorry the pics didn’t upload, but you can see more of me at: loladown.tumblr.com – feel free to write me and tell me what you’d like for XXX-mas: downloladown@gmail.com]

Walking in the front door on a cold day, snow accumulating on my fedora, Lo greets me in the entryway in merely a red slip.  I was concerned that her bare little feet would be catching a cold draft from the unforgiving wind outside.

“Wow!  That’s quite the warm welcome,” I say just before she smooches me.  “What’s the occasion?”

She then shows me what she has in her hands – what I failed to notice upon her first accosting me.  There are two tickets in her hand and she squeals out, “They finally came!”

“What came?” I inquire as I try to push past her to take off my overcoat, drop my briefcase, remove my shoes, and feel as if I’m home and not in transit still.

“The tickets to the gala.  You know, the gala where I get to be Santa’s sexy little helper!”

“Oh, yes, the interview you went for a month ago or so.”

“Yes, Daddy!  I got it.  A thousand bucks for one night!  And, the best part – they sent an extra ticket so I can bring a friend!”

“Have you thought about who you’re going to bring?”

She grabbed my chin as she looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t be so ridiculous, old man.  You know exactly who I’m bringing.”  She helped me off with my coat and followed me as I walked to the bedroom to change.

“Aren’t you excited?  This is a big deal.”

“Oh, yes, I’m very excited.  When is the gala?”

“December twenty-third, at nine.”

That meant that for about one week I would be hearing all about Lo’s preparation for her star performance.  And so I did.  She was all a-twitter with excitement, but because of the nature of the party, she was enjoined to tell no one except her guest.  So I got an earful that week.

Finally it was the night of the big event.  I had to wear my tux – which I don’t mind.  I enjoy taking the old thing for a spin now and again.  Lo was “preparing” from about five o’clock on.  These preparations included showering for an hour with her favorite toys, followed by an hour in bed moisturizing, massaging, and trying to seduce me – something I resisted with great effort!  I like to keep Lo hungry before events like this the way the Romans wouldn’t feed the lions before their performances.  Then she primped and dressed, and finally, we were ready to leave the house by eight fifteen – running late, as usual.

It was snowing lightly, but long enough for the streets to take on a gentle white glow.  We drove down into the inner depths of the heart of the city – an abandoned cavern of empty and dark skyscrapers silently silhouetted after all their workaday inhabitants have left them for the weekend.  This was an odd place to be hosting a Christmas party.  Driving cautiously through the winding, slippery streets of the oldest part of town, we found the building whose address was in gold letters on the black paper of the invitation.  It was a small, almost neoclassical church that, from the outside at least, appeared to have been abandoned by its congregation years ago.  It was dwarfed by the surrounding towers of business and finance and one could easily overlook it since, what must have been its side and back gardens had been sold to the sprawling glass structures that boxed it in.

There was a valet and two doormen checking tickets outside.  Inside was a study in contrasts.  The ceiling was chandeliers and beautiful columns.  On the floor it was a mob of stuffed shirts and pretty skirts and heels.  We had arrived at 9:15 and the place was already filling up.  Lo turned to me, passed me her coat and said, “Be a doll and hang this up.  I have to go get ready!”  She gave me a peck on the cheek and ran off to I don’t know where.

I wandered over to the coat check and a young lady in a skin-tight. . . it wasn’t a dress, it was more like a sheer muff stretched over her body from her breasts to just below her bum. . . took the two overcoats and handed me a ticket with a flirtatious smile.  I immediately spied the open bar and a table set out with numerous cheeses, dips, meats, and breads.  I made my way to the bar and got myself a top-shelf whiskey before wandering aimlessly around the building taking in the architectural subtleties.

Suddenly I was pleasantly surprised to hear the sounds of a string quartet playing some Bach and then Vivaldi, followed by Handel and Mozart.  It was the perfect accompaniment for my stroll around the church.  The people attending this soiree seemed to be an international crowd – not locals from our small city.  They were mingling and talking.  The ambient noise of their voices gradually grew as they increased in number.  I noticed that the lights were slowly dimming and the quartet was increasingly drowned out by the voices in the room echoing off the stone walls.

Then, when the place seemed packed to capacity and it was nearly impossible to get back to the open bar, the lights went off and a spotlight appeared on the stage across from the doors where we entered.  There I saw a tall man with silver slicked back hair address the crowd.  He spoke first in English and then translated into Italian, German, Russian and French.  Impressive.  He was welcoming everyone and asked us to settle in as the auction would begin soon.  To help with the charity drive auction he introduced Santa and his two helpers.

The curtains behind him parted and there, sitting among about twelve or thirteen framed paintings was a black man in a Santa costume.  On his left was a blond in a short little Santa red suit with white trim that came down just above her bum, revealing her red thong.  She wore knee high black leather heels, and a cute little Santa hat.  On his right was Lo dressed in a short, short red skirt, and a cute red and white half-jacket snugly buttoned up, concealing her breasts.  She wore red peek-toe heels and had a matching red scarf around her neck.

Of course, when hosting an auction to raise money the host has to insure that the participants are sufficiently loose and relaxed to part with their money.  To this end, two more open bars opened up on the left and the right.  Lo and her counterpart descended from the stage to pass out amongst the crowd the electronic devices that would be used for the silent auction.  They wandered the crowd with their red Santa pouches and I could see how Lo was flirting with the well-heeled men and women as she gave them their presents.  In order to keep track of the bidders, Lo had to enter their info into the computer which took a few minutes.  During this time the guests would make conversation with her; some of the men were daring enough to put their hands on her waist as they talked to her and some even felt her ass.  She took it all in stride with a smile and a wink.

When many drinks had been tossed back and people made to feel warm and welcome through Lo’s gracious giving, the auction began.  For each painting, Lo or her companion, alternately, would bend over in a revealing manner, pick up the item, and walk with it on stage left to right or right to left.  Above the stage, numbers would appear indicating the last highest bidder.  Santa would encourage the crowd and as he waited for the numbers to go up, whichever girl was not holding the item for auction would sit on his lap.

This went on for about an hour before they finally sold the last painting and raised over $250,000.  I never did find out what the charity was.  But after the main event of the night (or so I thought), somehow the lighting changed to strobes and flashing lights as dance music echoed through the chambers of the hall.  People’s stuffed-shirt inhibitions were forgotten and the once stilted crowd turned into a pulsing and throbbing throng.  The valuable pictures were removed from the stage and the MC of the evening returned.  He spoke to the crowd, only in English this time, and said that their bidding devices were equipped with texting.  They could send a message and it would appear on the screen above.

This crowd seemed to know how things worked.  I saw appear illuminated above the stage the words, “Lap Dance” followed by “$150.00”  Suddenly, as if waiting for this opportunity all night, Lo leapt up onto Santa’s lap, gyrating her hips into him as his greedy hands reached around under her half-jacket.  The crowd cheered her on.  Santa said, “And what do you want for Christmas, little girl?”  Lo leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

The words appeared, “Blow Santa” and “$500.00”  Lo got on her knees next to Jolly St. Nick and fumbled with his big black and silver belt buckle, digging into his red and white pants.  In the flashing lights of the dance hall Lo went down on his protruding cock.  Again there were hollers hooted from the dance floor.

The blond was standing behind Santa and she removed her red coat to reveal her red bra underneath.  Lo lifted her face out of Santa’s lap and the blond came over in front of him, took off her thong and sat down on Santa’s cock.  It was then that I looked up and saw the words, “Fuck Santa!”  The bid was $1000.00.  Lo removed the blonde’s bra and fondled and licked her nipples as Santa gave the petit blond more gifts than she could handle.  Lo, not to be out done, bent over Santa’s chair and, as if playing a tag-team game, tapped the blond on the shoulder.  Santa got up, removed Lo’s panties from under her short skirt, turned her so that we could all see the action in profile and in he went.  I could see Lo’s tongue react to the penetration by licking her teeth and lips as she does when experiencing pleasure and desire.

The crowd was enthralled and they began chanting as one, “Hard-er!  Hard-er!”  Santa’s giant pole was protruding and penetrating with pounding force into Lo’s wet puss.  Her mouth was wide open with shock of the enormity.  The crowd changed their chant to “Cum! Cum!  Cum!”  This seemed to distract Santa, but he kept on pounding with metronomic regularity until the crowd again changed their chant and taunted Lo with, “Ho!  Ho!  Ho!”  She loved it.  She glowed in their goading.  Then I noticed the blond get on her knees.  Santa had cum alright, all in, around, and on Lo.  The blond first licked Santa’s candy cane clean before turning to get every last drop of his spilt milk from Lo’s spread puss and ass.

On the screen above them it flashed “$10,000!  Merry XXX-Mas and to all a good night!”

When the party was over and Lo was on my arm as we walked through the white-laced vacant streets of the city, Lo asked, “Did you have a good time, Daddy?”

“Yes, Lo,” I said.  “Did you?”

“Mmmmmm hmmmm,” she hummed, followed by, “I hope Santa brings me what I asked for.”

“And what was that, my dear.”

She refused to tell me.  “Now is not the time, Daddy.”

We drove through the empty streets and as we did she leaned over, unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock, took it in her mouth, and licked and sucked it like a lollypop.

We got home and she changed back into her Santa’s helper skirt and half-jacket for me.  I bent her over – her hands on the windowsill – and entered her.  She let out a long moan.  I reviewed with her the various naughty provocations of the evening.  That just made her more and more wet.  Then I insisted that she tell me what she asked for from Santa.

“I said, ‘I want a dog and a pony, Santa,’” she said, adding, “Now fuck me like the bad dog you are, Daddy-O.”