Vanilla-Free Christmas Is Available TODAY!
Who you callin’ a ho? No one! All the ladies in Vanilla-Free Christmas are simply living their fantasies for your vicarious pleasure.
Here’s the short description of my story, called “The Man Inside”:
Sam and Jonah are two lonely co-workers carrying on a naughty online relationship that has been stymied in real life by crushing social anxieties and low self-esteem. This year they agree to attend their company’s annual Christmas party. But when Jonah shows up as Santa Claus and then refuses to remove his costume, Sam must decide if the man inside is worth having no matter how kinky his outer wrappings.
Sam clicked open on the color-coded email indicating it was from him—Jonah, the sexiest damn accountant on the face of the earth, but the shyest, too. Excruciatingly shy in person. Cyber Jonah, however, was a hoot and a half and a sex god on the keyboards. If management ever pulled their instant messages and emails, there would be some serious explaining to do and probably a pair of pink slips. Funny thing was, no one would have ever guessed the nature or extent of their online flirting, their face-to-face interactions were so cursory. And yet, she recognized the yearning in his eyes when they passed in the halls and he actually made eye contact, or when she walked to his desk to pick up paperwork to be scanned and filed. In those rare unguarded moments, he was like a wolf straining at its leash to get at her. If whatever was holding him back ever lost its grip, she’d be a goner. His dual nature both frightened and excited her.
“Got some paperwork for you to work your sexy mojo on. Nobody handles my files the way you do. 😉 “
Sam smiled and replied: “I’ve a firm grip on them and will slide them into a nice safe place. Might be a tight squeeze but I’ll stretch to make it work. Film at eleven.”
A minute later, an instant message popped up. Jonah.
“I didn’t expect a response to my email so soon or I’d have IM’d you. Thought you were on vacation. I was already missing you.”
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “Change of plans. The step-monster has whisked the parental unit off to Aruba. Christmas on my own this year.”
“Aruba? Last year was Tahiti if memory serves. At least you won’t have to listen to her put downs. Does this mean you’ll be going to the office Christmas party?”
She bit her lip and pondered her reply. Office parties were not her thing. First, they required a date—something she hadn’t had in over a year. Second, they required a sexy cocktail dress. Such a dress on her would not be sexy but pathetic, especially if she went stag. So not going. If even her own father didn’t want her for Christmas, the last place she wanted to be was at a party as the designated ugly fat friend. The DUFF. She’d play the role the rest of the year, but dammit, not at Christmas. The holidays were already a depressing orgy of food-based, mind-numbing self-medication. No point in drawing a big red circle around her life with a blinking arrow and sign that said, “BIG FAT LOSER”.
Her fingers typed out “Probably not,” and hit send. The cursor blinked in the empty message box. The thumping of her heart grew heavier as she contemplated why Jonah would even ask her that. As far as she knew, he didn’t seem the type to go to Christmas parties either. The man had some serious social anxieties, yet on the computer, in his messages, he was a completely different person—funny, charming, seductive.
Long seconds passed before her IM window flashed the words, “Jonah is typing a message”.
And finally clicked over to another program window thinking he’d been called away or he knew all he needed to know.
Her IM window began to flash. She activated it.
“I’ll go if you go.”