Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy

Gracie chattered on nervously as she helped me pack up the decorations, leftover cake, and remaining food from Kelly’s canceled wedding.

I could tell she was anxious. She kept twisting the ring on her finger.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she said to me as I loaded the last box into the back of my actual truck, which was a little more down-on-its-luck than the one Grayson had lent me for the mission.

She regarded it critically.

“Hmm.”

“What?” I tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Grayson offered me a car to convince me to sign on as CEO. If I’d known he was taking the truck back, I’d have told him to throw it in as a Christmas present for you,” she said.

I grabbed her scarf, pulling her in for a kiss.

“The only thing I want for Christmas is you, as my wife.”

She was warm and perfect in my arms.

She gently pushed away and gazed up at me. Her lips parted.

I used two fingers to close them.

“Sugarplum, I know you’re about to give me an impassioned speech about why this is crazy and why you should give me that ring back. But how about before you nuke another engagement, you let me convince you that we’re meant for each other.”

I yanked my shirt off as soon as we were alone in my apartment.

Gracie wasted little time in running her fingers down my chest, her touch so tender and igniting such need for her in me.

I kissed her. Suddenly, briefly, sensually. We leaned into it more and more, tongues intersecting, and the adrenaline rush inside me building up more and more. I tugged off her sweater then her bra.

“Better than opening a Christmas present,” I said.

She yanked my belt out of my jeans.

“I know what Christmas package I want to open first!”

I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. Our clothes were tossed away in a heap of boots, denim, panties, and socks, until we were both on the plush carpet under the tree, only her skirt remaining.

Gracie was on top of me, her huge tits pressed against my chest. She slid up my body, shoving her tits in my face, me playfully suckling on them and getting a delightful sound in return. She scooted farther up my torso until her knees were holding my arms down.

“What are you up to, Gracie?” I said, in no rush to escape my situation.

“Just giving you a very merry Christmas, Hudson.”

More squirming, and her skirt was over my head, her pussy right over my face.

I knew exactly what she wanted, and I was more than happy to give it to her.

With only my tongue available to me, I gave her what she desired. Sliding it into her folds, lapping up her juices, Gracie moaned and panted as I pleasured her, sucking her clit, teasing her with my tongue.

“Yes, oh … yes, just like that, Hudson,” she panted, her words stuttering and becoming less and less coherent by the moment. She was melting into me with just my tongue, and seeing her so pliable with so little made my imagination rush with wonder of what I could do to her with a whole lot more.

She came. Hard. She leaked her juices all over my face as she screamed for me, collapsing forward in a panting mess. I happily licked my lips and wiped my face off with my hands, only to look her way as I sucked my fingers dry of her.

“Oh, you’re so insatiable.”

“And you’re such a bad little elf. What would Santa say if he knew you were being so naughty?”

“He’d probably give me a good spanking,” she said, as she nibbled her lip coyly. “Likely bare-assed and over his knees.”

“The way you’re talking about it, it doesn’t sound like much of a punishment, Gracie.”

“Santa’s never been the best at punishment anyway. He gives people coal and switches still. In the twenty-first century. Guy’s kind of out-of-date in his practices.”

I sat up. My cock throbbed with need.

Gracie smirked. “We should take care of that, shouldn’t we?”

“Ever the little helper, aren’t we?”

She scrambled to all fours in front of me, the skirt hiked up, her ass tempting me. “Come on. It’s time to ride your reindeer, Santa.”

I scowled. “One, Santa doesn’t ride the reindeer directly. He uses a sled. Two, I thought you were an elf and not a reindeer? Make up your mind.”

She rolled her eyes so playfully. “How about you stop being pedantic and fuck me, Hudson?”

I grabbed her by the hips, rubbing my cock up and down her ass as I found her pussy. She grinded against me, as if I needed further encouragement.

She was still dripping wet. She moaned as I teased her with my fingers, rolling on a condom.

I positioned myself behind her then speared into her, powerfully and suddenly. She was so fucking tight around my cock, squeezing me like a vise, so damn perfect for me. She cried out in pleasure as I slammed into her again.

As I took her harder and stronger, she ground back into me. One hand wrapped around her tits as I held her, massaging them, taking her as she bucked against me.

I was consumed with her.

She was whimpering and moaning, begging me to make her come. I reached down to stroke her clit, and it was enough to send her over the edge. I gritted my teeth as she came on my cock, not wanting this to end.

She moaned as I continued to fuck her, jackhammering into her, letting her feel every thick inch of me.

“I’m going to—” She cried out my name as she came again.

This time, I came with her, spilling into the condom. We collapsed into a wonderfully sweaty mess. I nuzzled up to her, pushed her hair out of the way, and kissed her on her swollen mouth.

“So that’s the way you treat reindeer? You ride them that hard?” Gracie said, her voice weak from the exertion.

“You’re a very special reindeer, Gracie. You only get the best.”

More soft giggling. She turned to look me right in the eye. “I love you, Hudson.”

“And I love you, Gracie,” I said, without a moment’s hesitation. “And? Was that convincing?”

“Very convincing,” she purred. She cupped my face with her left hand and giggled. “The ring matches your eyes.”

I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom. I kissed her, savored her.

“I love you. All I ever wanted was you.”

“I’d say I can’t wait to begin my life with you,” Gracie murmured against my mouth. “But somehow it feels like you’ve always been here.”

“I want to be your husband,” I whispered to her in the dark. “I’ll make sure every day is like Christmas morning.”

“Not every day. Christmas morning is stressful,” she whispered back with a smile. “Some days just need to be a lazy Christmas afternoon, after an early Christmas dinner.”

“I can do that too,” I promised, stroking her hair.

I made love to her until the ridiculous cuckoo clock she’d installed on my wall sounded out “Jingle Bells” at a deafening volume.

Gracie shot straight up.

“What in god’s name?”

“Merry Christmas.” I kissed her softly.

“Oh my gosh.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “That is very unsettling and does not inspire Christmas joy.”

“You gave me that clock,” I reminded her, trailing kisses down her soft skin.

“You have my permission to smash that clock with a hammer.” She smiled at me. “Sometimes there can be too much Christmas.”

She nestled back against me and closed her eyes.

I nudged her.

“Gracie.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you want to open presents?”

“Presents?”

“It’s Christmas.”

She opened her eyes and grinned up at me.

“Someone’s excited for Christmas morning.”

“Not me,” I scoffed. “I’m just looking out for Pugnog.”

The dog was sound asleep on his back in a nest of Gracie and my clothes on the floor.

As I heated up the oven, I took the dog outside. It was dark out, only me, the dog, and the falling snow. Still, I didn’t feel alone at all. I had the love of my life waiting for me upstairs.

I made breakfast then started a fire in the ancient fireplace.

“I was going to make breakfast,” Gracie said when she padded out, wrapped in a knitted red robe that sported a hood with Rudolph ears and antlers.

I carried the tray into the living room and set it on the coffee table. In the fireplace, logs crackled.

“I used to work in food service. I think I can handle a Christmas morning spread, though it’s not as elaborate as your breakfasts.”

“The best food is the kind you don’t have to cook yourself,” she said, taking one of the triangular bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwiches.

I handed her a mug of coffee in one of the Christmas mugs she’d brought.

“Yum. Is that a hint of nutmeg I taste?”

“It is Christmas.” I kissed her, tasting the spice on her mouth.

“All right. Who’s first?” Gracie rubbed her hands together.

“Pugnog.” The dog snorted awake when I wafted a sandwich under his nose. He sat up, spraying drool all over me.

Gracie giggled. “I’ll shower you off. Don’t worry.” She ran a hand up my bare thigh.

I grabbed Pugnog’s gift from under the tree. He stared at it. Well, one-eye stared—the other wandered up to the ceiling.

“Pugnog,” Gracie cooed, “your new daddy bought you a gift. Isn’t that nice? What do we say?”

The pug panted. Gracie gave him some bacon, and he scarfed it down noisily.

“I don’t know if this is going to compete with bacon,” I told the dog.

“Look, Pugnog,” Gracie squealed as I opened the present for him. “It’s a doggy water bowl you won’t drown in.”

“There is a lady in Harrogate who makes them custom,” I explained. “I saw one when I was up there earlier in December and had Elsa buy one and bring it. It’s tilted so that Pugnog doesn’t have to stick his whole face in to get a drink.”

“It‘s also decorated in pugs wearing Santa hats.” Gracie kissed me. “It’s adorable.”

“Okay, now you.”

Gracie handed me the carefully wrapped present and clasped her hands together in excitement.

I tore off the wrapping paper.

“What in the—” I unfolded what at first I thought was a blanket.

“It’s a handmade knitted robe by yours truly that matches mine! Complete with Rudolph horns. We’re twins!” she crowed. “Put it on. Pugnog has one too.” She stuffed the dog into his outfit. “We have to take family photos in front of the tree.”

She dragged me over to the tree, Pugnog clutched under one arm, and snapped selfies.

This was going on the Christmas card for next year.

She kissed me. “Thank you for being a good sport. You don’t have to wear it, of course.”

“Are you kidding?” I said, wrapping it around myself. “This is extremely comfortable. Now open yours.”

“Yes! A present.”

“It’s not regifted shit like your family gets you either,” I said.

“Someone’s full of himself.” Gracie picked up the last box.

“Hmm,” she said. “This looks like you did not wrap this yourself.”

“My sister did,” I admitted.

“I cannot wait to meet her. This is an expert-level wrapping job.”

“Elsa works holiday retail,” I explained.

“Even better,” Gracie said as she carefully unwrapped the present.

She was probably going to save the paper, I decided.

When Gracie pulled back the packing material keeping the shadow box safe, she let out a small sob.

“It’s lovely, Hudson.” She gazed down at the shadow box Elsa had helped me with, taking in the bits of antique lace, the photos, the miniatures.

“This is …” She traced it with her fingers. “This is so perfect. Wait is this …” Gracie looked up at me, eyes shining. “No way. Is this the actual lace from the dress? The real lace? How did you find this?”

“I do garbage collecting,” I said gruffly. “Know the guys at the dump. You had said Kelly threw the scraps away. You dig through tons of trash, and you’ll eventually find things.”

Gracie threw herself in my arms.

“This is the best Christmas present ever! Well,” she amended, “third best.” She kissed me. “You’re the second best.”

“Damn. Demoted for a ring, huh?” I grinned against her mouth.

She grabbed my jaw.

“I can’t believe you think I’m that materialistic. Pugnog was a Christmas present too,” she said, giggling as I pretended to be offended.

“Let’s go back to bed and start that lazy Christmas afternoon even though it’s like 3 a.m. I have a gingerbread-house-decorating kit we can do later,” I said after we had sat dozing in front of the fireplace.

I nudged her.

She laughed on my chest and looked up at me.

“You bought a gingerbread-house-making kit?”

“The gingerbread is premade, full disclosure, so I’m sure it’s not up to your standards.”

Gracie snuggled in my arms. “Maybe I’ll just have to decorate your dick instead with frosting and gumdrops.”

“That sounds …”

“Festive?”

On the coffee table, her phone beeped and vibrated. She reached for it and scoffed when she read the messages.

“Surprise, surprise.” She ran a hand along my chest. “We’re not going back to bed. I have a massive Christmas brunch for a hundred plus people to serve.”

“Do you?”

She tapped me on the nose.

“Yes, because I’m inviting your siblings. Buck up, Hudson. It’s Christmas. We die like men!”

I kissed her and sat up. “Then I guess I know how I’m spending Christmas morning.”