13 Spicy Tales to Keep You Warm at Night

by Marley Quinn

Copyright Information

13 Spicy Tales to Keep You Warm at Night

by Marley Quinn

© 2025 Marley Quinn

All rights reserved.

Author: Marley Quinn

Contact details: marleyquinn.reformist760@passinbox.com

Book cover, illustration: Marley Quinn

Editing, proofreading: Marley Quinn

This e-book, including its portions, is protected by copyright and may not be reproduced, resold, or redistributed without the permission of the author.

If you liked the e-book, recommend that your friends buy a personal copy. A big thank you for respecting the author's work!

In This Collection

In this collection:

• Abroad - An American woman on vacation in Greece finds an unexpected treat when she encounters two handsome young men at a hot spring.
• All Lit Up - An electrician delivers some high-current voltage to a woman obsessed with Christmas.
• Cousin Jenna - A shy young woman gets her first introduction to the seductive arts when her wild child cousin comes to visit.
• Duke and Greggy - A man and his son are no match for a feisty teenage hitchhiker
• Kimmy - A young woman finally decides to declare her love for her father’s best friend during a trip to Hawaii
• Mall Daze - A strictly religious woman discovers that she can no longer repress her darkest desires
• Poppy in Paradise - A young man is capsized on a tropical island and meets a castaway that will change his life forever
• Sweet Souvenir (Not published anywhere else!) - A starlet catches a burglar breaking into her house, but when it turns out that he’s her biggest fan, they form the most unlikely of unions.
• The Lifeguard - A young girl on her 18th birthday and her two best friends receive a special present from the town’s handsome new lifeguard.
• The Polaroid - After finding a spicy picture in the pocket of her coat that she brought from a thrift store,, a young woman goes on a quest to track down the man in the photo.
• The Spirit of the Sea - An American college student goes to Italy to meet pretty girls, but sometimes, beauty can be deadly.
• The Thief - When a homeowner discovers the new babysitter has been stealing his expensive Scotch, he is forced to discipline her, opening the door to their deepest desires.
• The Try-On - On a cold rainy day, a woman working in a swimsuit shop meets a bereaved widower, but together, they bond over skimpy bikinis.

Table of Contents

Copyright Information

In This Collection

Table of Contents

A Message From the Author

Abroad

Pykanos

The Path

Wunderbar

Two for One

Are you saying what I think you’re saying?

Rodeo

Unforgettable

All Lit Up

Holly

Nick

Holly

Nick

Holly

Cousin Jenna

Time of Need

Hot Night

Flaunting the Rules

Nice Strokes

Let’s Get Wet

Strange Heat

Revelation

Duke and Greggy

Kimmy

Blame it on Maui

Bursting

Undeniable Proof

Mall Daze

Filthy, Bestial Urges

Elder Cummings

A Bit of a Headache

Elmer

Sinfully Exposed

Poppy in Paradise

The Solo King

Thirsty

Poppy’s Coconuts

Man Banana

Poppy Want More

Poppy Like Dane

Whitefella

Searching for Poppy

Sweet Souvenir

The Lifeguard

Birthday Girl

Beefcake

Never Ever

Have I Ever

Sharing a Guy

Taking Turns

Birthday Wish Come True

The Polaroid

Sicky

No Refunds

Missed Connections

Bun in the Oven

Sticky Sauce

Bubbles and Squeaks

Fountains of Joy

An Angel

Our Dirty Little Secret

The Spirit of the Sea

Dana

Reunion

The Thief

Gina

10:34

Picasso

Discipline and Order

Heathens

The Try-On

Jen’s Bikinis

Coverage

The Greatest Gift

Hot

The Full Monty

My John

Also by Marley Quinn

A Message From the Author

When I was kid, the kinds of books that I liked to read were mostly fantasy.  I loved exploring the whimsical worlds of not just Tolkien but also Piers Anthony and Terry Brooks, to say nothing of the more gripping settings of Earthsea (Ursula K. LeGuin) and Pern (Anne McAffrey).

I honestly do not remember reading any romance or romance-adjacent books, much less anything that would qualify as spicy.  So when I got older and decided to turn my hand toward writing my own tales, I tried at first to emulate those magical realms of my youth.

But then one day I found myself freshly arrived in a foreign country, and for a few weeks, I had no internet, no television, and lots of free time on my hands.  At first, I watched videos and read books that I had downloaded on my laptop, but soon, the urge to create rather than just passively consume became overwhelming.

As I put fingers to the keyboard, ideas and scenes came flooding into my mind.  To my complete and total surprise, what came pouring out were steamy encounters and characters letting go of their inhibitions.  For a long time, I kept those stories hidden away, ashamed to show them to anyone else for fear of what they might reveal about me.

But as I got older, I started dipping my toes in other literary waters, and I came to realize that I had a true passion for writing what my readers call ethical smut.  Instead of trying to shock readers by indulging in the darker side of human behavior, I discovered that what I loved to do best was let love and carnal desire blossom in a pure and unfettered way.  

I grew up in an era before the internet, and I had never seen a pornographic film before engaging in my first sexual encounters, and neither had anyone else I knew.  In a way, although most of my stories take place in contemporary settings, I am, somehow, recreating that age of innocence by focusing on the positive, the joyful, and how freeing it can be to connect with someone in a physical way.

This short story collection is the result of my writing journey, containing tales of teenage rebellion, late bloomers finally discovering their true passion, and everything in between.  The spice level is turned up to maximum, but don’t expect to travel down the shadowy corridors of stalking, abuse, harassment, or violation.  

Instead, open your mind - and your legs - and come along for the ride as men and women experience the multitudes of joy that sex can offer.

--Marley Quinn, October, 2025

Abroad

Pykanos

Mirabelle sighed with happiness as she made her way on deck to feast her eyes on yet another impossibly beautiful Greek island sunrise.  The water was so intensely blue that it nearly made her wince, and she felt there were few things prettier than the waves which lapped against the stark white cliffs as Pykanos came into view.

She had started in Athens and then hopped on the ferries to visit all of the popular islands.  But after one too many late nights at the disco and one too many crowded streets stuffed full of tourists and souvenir vendors, she felt the urge to visit somewhere quieter, someplace more authentic, to see the real Greek island life, not just the Instagram version of it.

That's when the proprietor of her little hotel had told her about Pykanos.  "Oh, you'll get your peace and quiet there, miss.  Nothing but a handful of fishing families live there.  If you want to see a real Greek island, visit Pykanos."

Because it was so far off the beaten path, it took Mirabelle quite a while to find a boat captain who was heading in that direction, a deeply tanned man in his 50s who informed her that there was only one ferry a week that went to Pykanos.  After some obligatory haggling, Mirabelle arranged for the captain to transport her there, and then her plan was to take the ferry back in three days' time.

Steadily, the island of Pykanos hove into view, and Mirabelle watched as the captain expertly piloted his boat right up a small dock on the eastern side of the island.  A few moments later, after the boat was secured, Mirabelle hopped ashore, smiling as she took in the sight of a small path that led to a cluster of blue-painted buildings.

"Good luck, miss!" called the captain.

"Thank you," said Mirabelle, and then she hoisted her bag and began walking up the path.  The man at the hotel had informed her that the building in front of her was a restaurant that sometimes would rent out rooms.

But it was only as she knocked on the door and stepped inside that she realized that the proprietor might not speak English, so she fished around in her bag for her Greek travel phrases book.  In front of her, she saw a small dining room with several tables, but the place was empty.

"Hello?" Mirabelle called out.  "Uh, herrytizmos?"

From somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, Mirabelle heard a female voice, and a moment later, a middle-aged woman wearing a simple house dress emerged, speaking rapid-fire Greek.

"English?  Do you speak English?" said Mirabelle.

"English?  Yes, a little," said the woman, and Mirabelle breathed in a large sigh of relief.

"You have a room that I can rent?  Hotel, yes?" said Mirabelle.

"Ten euro," said the woman, and it was all that Mirabelle could do not to snort in disbelief.  On some of the bigger islands, ten euros wouldn't even buy you a cup of coffee.

"Yes, it's okay," said Mirabelle, withdrawing a ten-euro note and handing it over to the woman who disappeared it into the pocket of her house dress.  But then the woman stood there for a long moment without saying anything, her eyes searching Mirabelle's face intently, leaving Mirabelle feeling quite confused and bewildered.

"Come," said the woman at long last, and then Mirabelle followed her to a simple but tasteful guest room down the hallway from the dining area.

"Wow, very lovely.  Thank you," said Mirabelle, setting her bag down on the bed.

"Food will be served at six," said the woman.

"Six pm?  There's no lunch?  I am a bit hungry," said Mirabelle.

"Food at six o'clock," said the woman.

"Is there perhaps a shop I could go to?  Or maybe you could recommend some of the local attractions?  I'd really like to get a taste of authentic island life," said Mirabelle, hoping that the woman actually understood what she was saying.

"Go to town, go everywhere you want.  But do not go to mountain path," said the woman, admonishing her with a finger like some kind of schoolteacher.

"Stay off the mountain path?  Fine," said Mirabelle.

"Food at six o'clock," pronounced the woman one more time before turning and leaving.

Mirabelle shook her head as she unpacked a few of her things.  The Greek woman's English was quite rudimentary, but Mirabelle felt like maybe she understood more than she was letting on.  Or maybe she was just unused to foreign visitors.  Either way, Mirabelle was excited to experience something different.

A few minutes later, she was ready to go.  Stepping out of the hotel slash restaurant, it was easy to see where the "town" was because the only structures in sight were a small group of buildings on either side of the island's one and only path.

However, as Mirabelle got closer, she was dismayed to see that three of the buildings were ordinary houses.  The only building that looked like it might be a business turned out to be some kind of hardware store.  The handful of older men clustered around the motley assortment of tools and other items only spoke Greek, and so Mirabelle quickly turned around and left.

Continuing down the path, Mirabelle saw a few more houses, but they were now spread further apart with large stretches of grassy valley between them.  And after a few minutes, she came to the end of the path.  Before her was a lovely view of the sea from the western end of the island, and Mirabelle took several minutes to enjoy it before turning and heading back.

Pykanos was clearly a small island, and the town was scarcely more than a handful of buildings.  The only other signs of life were a few fishing boats bobbing up and down in the waves a ways off from shore.  Scanning the hills, she saw little but green swathes of grass with no sign even of any animal life.  To put it bluntly, there wasn't much anywhere to go on Pykanos, except to explore the trail she saw winding her way up the island's only promontory.

Her stomach rumbling, Mirabelle began making her way back to her room at the back of the restaurant.  She knew that, stashed in her bag somewhere were a couple of bags of snacks, and she hoped they would tide her over until six o'clock when the proprietor served what Mirabelle prayed would be a bountiful meal of delicious, homemade Greek food.

But, as it turned out, Mirabelle never did get back to her room that day.

The Path

By the time Mirabelle made it back to the village, the sun was high in the sky, and the air was so still that she could hear her own footsteps as she plodded along the cobblestone lane.

With the sun hammering on her neck, Mirabelle made it to the restaurant at long last, only to find that the front door was closed and locked.  She knocked a few times but received no answer.  It seemed as though the proprietor was out, probably taking a siesta at home, which was the only sensible thing to do in this burning, dry heat.

Confused, hungry, and starting to perspire, Mirabelle cast her eyes around for somewhere to go.  But all the doors of the nearby buildings were quiet, any residents inside were likely to be upset if a foreigner who didn't speak Greek woke them up from their naps.

The only spot that looked appealing was the path that wound its way up to the top of the cliff.  A handful of trees were providing shade, and there was bound to be a breeze once she climbed out of the bowl where the village was situated.

Of course, the proprietor had told her specifically not to go up that mountain path, but what danger could there be up there, really?  Perhaps the woman was just afraid that Mirabelle, a silly tourist, would twist her ankle or something like that.  Obviously, Mirabelle would be careful, if only to avoid embarrassing herself by needing rescuing.

As she headed up the path, Mirabelle smiled to herself as she took in the magnificent sight of the sea all around the island.  As her altitude increased, the waters of the sea gained a lovely, deep azure hue that Mirabelle found extremely charming.  And once she got underneath the shade of trees that dotted the path, she immediately felt refreshed.

It wasn't too long before Mirabelle had climbed quite a ways up the twisting, winding path that ran along the edge of the cliff.  Up at these heights, there was a steady breeze that felt quite invigorating, and Mirabelle noticed that the wild, tough grass had a unique, green color that was quite appealing.  Indeed, up here, Mirabelle no longer felt hungry either.

It was as if there were some kind of natural magic on this path, which made Mirabelle wonder why the proprietor lady had admonished her not to take it.  Perhaps it was just a case of not letting the tourists discover it so that they wouldn't flock to Pykanos in droves and ruin the experience.  Yes, that must be the explanation!

However, as Mirabelle gazed ahead, she saw that the path veered off from the cliff and headed between a deep crevice.  Slowing her pace, Mirabelle gingerly climbed and hopped her way forward amongst the stones, noticing that the path seemed to be leading towards the interior of the mountain.  Indeed, as Mirabelle looked up, she saw that she was now deep inside a canyon with steep walls, and the path seemed to be meandering without purpose.

But as she got a bit further down into the canyon, she saw the path branch off to the right with a steep upward angle.  Sometimes slipping to all fours, Mirabelle scrambled up this new segment of the path as a small shower of stones and dirt cascaded down into the valley.

When she finally got back up to the surface, Mirabelle cast her eyes around in amazement as she saw that she had emerged into a hidden valley located near the top of the mountain.  On one side, she had a magnificent view of the sea, the surface of the water now hundreds of feet below her, and on the other side was a verdant valley lush with vegetation.

"Oh, tourists would definitely ruin this in a heartbeat," Mirabelle thought to herself as she began to explore the valley.

A tiny trickle of water turned out to be a robust spring, its banks thick with a lovely assortment of flowers and aromatic plants.  As she proceeded forward, Mirable could hear the hum of bees, and she saw several brightly colored butterflies nipping and darting in amongst the vegetation.  The air was clean and fresh, and Mirabelle sighed with happiness.

Just then, though, she heard voices speaking from not too far away, although she could not see anyone.  It was unclear exactly what they were saying, but it sounded like two men talking.  Even more mysteriously, it did not sound like they were speaking Greek.  Over the past few weeks, Mirabelle had grown accustomed to the musical lilt of Greek, and the way the two men were talking sounded much harsher and more guttural.

Intensely curious, Mirabelle was on high alert as she steadily made her way down the path and towards the sound of the voices.  As she got closer, she could start to make out more words, but the men were speaking in a language she did not recognize, although it sometimes sounded a bit like English.

Just then, Mirabelle caught a glimpse of one of the men through the vegetation.  As stealthily as she could, Mirabelle crept forward until she could see that there were two young men ahead of her, sitting in what looked like a natural Jacuzzi, the water frothing and bubbling at their waists.

"Wow, there's a natural hot spring up here!  Definitely don't want the tourists to know about this.  My gosh, it's gorgeous," Mirabelle thought to herself.

For a long moment, Mirabelle debated whether or not to reveal herself.  On one hand, the two men seemed to be greatly enjoying their time in the hot spring Jacuzzi, laughing and smiling as they conversed, and Mirabelle didn't want to give them a scare.  But on the other hand, she had hiked quite a long way to get up here, and it looked like there was room in the Jacuzzi for three people.

After making her decision, Mirabelle coughed loudly and then stepped forward down the path so that she would be in clear view of the two men in the Jacuzzi, one of whom caught sight of her immediately.

"Hullo!" he called out, giving her a big smile and a friendly wave.

"Hullo!" cried out his companion, turning to look at Mirabelle.

"Sorry, but we do not speak Greek!" called out the first man.

"Oh, that's okay, I speak English," said Mirabelle, blushing as she took a few steps closer to the two men in the Jacuzzi.

"Excellent!" said the first man.  "Then we invite you to join us."

"Yes! Please join us," said the second man.

What could Mirabelle do, other than to accept their friendly invitation?  But what happened next was something she never could have expected.

Wunderbar

Mirabelle could scarcely believe her eyes as she took in the sight before her.  After climbing up a long and winding mountain path, she had emerged in a gorgeously green secret valley near the top that contained a natural hot spring with a deep pool of bubbling water, just like a Jacuzzi.

And sitting inside that Jacuzzi were two very handsome young men, one a natural blond and the other with sexily tousled brown hair.  With their shirts off, Mirabelle could only admire the views of their well-formed, muscular bodies.

"Hello, my name is Frank," said the blond, giving her a friendly wave.

"And I am Hans," said the brunette, and Mirable could not decide which of them was more attractive.  Frank looked like a typical golden boy, one of the naturally gifted athletes, his grin confident.  Hans, on the other hand, had something of a mystery to him, his flashing eyes exuding a mischievous charm.

"I'm Mirabelle."

"Please, you are welcome to join us," said Frank.

"Yes, the water here is Wunderbar!" said Hans, batting his eyelashes at her in a way that made Mirabelle's heart flutter for a moment.

"I'm guessing you're not locals from Pykanos," said Mirabelle, immediately feeling foolish for having stated the obvious.  "Where are you from?"

"Germany," said Hans with such a deprecatory sigh that both Mirabelle and Frank burst into laughter.

"Oh, please, Hans.  Not everyone has such a bad impression of Germany," admonished Frank.

"No, Germany's cool," said Mirabelle.  "I've never been.  But I'd love to visit it one day."

"Nah, much better here," said Hans with a little grin as he let himself sink down further into the bubbling waters of the hot spring.

"I'm from America," said Michelle.

"Yankee go home!" said Frank with a grin, and it took Mirabelle a long moment before she realized that he was just quoting a movie or something.

"Uncle Sam, he wants you to join the army," said Hans, and the three of them all burst out into laughter for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Mirabelle, unsure herself of what that was supposed to mean, but Hans and Frank took no notice of her comment.

"Mirabelle, this is a lovely name.  That was a long climb up the mountain. Surely, won't you join us in this hot spring?" said Frank, giving her a fetching smile that Mirabelle could scarcely resist.

"Good for tired and achy muscles," said Hans, giving her a saucy wink.

"Shoot, you guys.  I had no idea this hot spring was even up here, or else I would've brought my swimsuit.  In fact, the lady where I'm staying told me not to come up here," said Mirabelle.

"Wait, does she have one wart right here?" said Hans, suddenly sitting up as he gestured to a spot on his chin.

"Yes, that's right.  She runs the restaurant in town," I said.

"Yes, this is where we are staying too," said Frank with a grin.

"Dinner, six o'clock!" said Hans in a falsetto voice, and the three of them burst into laughter.

"Wow, that's a really spot-on imitation, Hans," said Mirabelle.

"Mirabelle, I know you are American, but you are in Europe now.  You do not need a swimsuit to enjoy this hot spring," said Frank.

"Oh, I don't know," said Mirabelle.

"Do not worry, Mirabelle.  We did not bring our swimsuits either," said Hans, giving Mirabelle an intense look that sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

"Better to enjoy the nature in a natural way, eh?" said Frank, rising to his feet.

Mirabelle nearly turned away as Frank's penis came into view, but then she chided herself for being so ridiculously old-fashioned.  Germans were notorious for their nonchalant nudity, and really, who was she to judge if two guys wanted to sit naked in a remote mountain hot spring?  And yes, it was true that Frank was well-endowed, but that had nothing to do with anything, right?  It wasn't like he had an erection, after all.

"I'm just going to stay here under the water," said Hans with a chuckle.

"It's okay, Mirabelle.  We promise not to tell," said Frank, and the confident cheer on her face decided the issue for her.

"Wow, this is so crazy.  I can't believe I'm doing it," said Mirabelle in a low voice as she slowly shrugged off her top and stepped out of her shorts.

Feeling incredibly brave as she stood before the two young, handsome men in just her bra and panties, Mirabelle did her best to act confidently as she walked over to the edge of the hot spring.

"No, no.  This will not do.  You must get all the way naked if you want to join us," said Hans, and Mirabelle looked over to see Frank nodding in agreement.

"It is the only fair thing, yes?" said Frank, and Mirabelle struggled but failed to come up with a convincing counter-argument.

"Fuck it.  In for a penny, in for a pound, am I right?" Mirabelle nervously tittered to herself as she slowly unclasped her bra and let it slip off onto her arms before turning to carefully lay it on top of her shirt and shorts.

"Wunderbar," said Hans as Mirabelle then quickly stepped out of her panties, her breath sucked in as she felt the heat of the two men's gaze on her exposed body.

As quickly as she could, Mirabelle then took the final little steps over to the edge of the hot spring and then lowered herself into the water, wincing as she finally got submerged enough to cover her breasts.

"See?  It's excellent, isn't it?" said Frank, looking over at her with a huge smile.

"It does feel really nice, you're right," admitted Mirabelle once her skin became accustomed to the burning heat of the water.

"Just don't go any lower, or you'll drown," said Hans with a laugh.

"Oh hush!" said Mirabelle with a grin on her face as she splashed water in Hans's direction.

"I am thinking perhaps we have discovered the Garden of Eden up here," said Frank with a wistful smile as he sank back into the water.

And for the next few minutes, the three of them silently enjoyed the stunning view, the refreshing ocean breeze, the sun on their faces, and the delightful bubbling of the water on their naked skin.

Two for One

"So, what brings you two guys up here?" said Mirabelle with a nervous laugh, still not truly believing that she was naked in a mountaintop hot spring on a remote Greek island with two very attractive men.

"Ooof, that is a tale of madness and woe," said Frank.  "We are here to try and mend our broken hearts."

"Yes, it is too sad to talk about here in this gorgeous Garden of Eden," said Hans.

"Oh, come on.  You've definitely got me curious," said Mirabelle.

"We came all the way from Germany to enjoy a magical holiday, only to have our spirits crushed by a devious woman," said Frank, and Mirabelle had to keep herself from smiling as she listened to his accent.

"Wow, both your girlfriends dumped you while you were on vacation?  That is rough," said Mirable.

"One," said Hans.

"One what?" said Mirabelle.

"It was one woman.  You see, Hans and I were in love with the same woman," said Frank.  "And she has broken our hearts forever."

"Oh, I see," said Mirabelle, untruthfully.  "Well, two guys chasing the same woman?  I hate to say it, but that kind of situation is never going to turn out well."

"Oh?" said Hans, rising up from the water.  "Is it wrong for two men to love the same woman?"

"No, no, no, nothing like that," said Mirabelle, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.  "I guess I've just never heard of a situation like that ending well."

"She was like a goddess to us," said Frank.  "We've never felt that way about anyone before."

"And yet she threw us away like yesterday's newspaper," said Hans.

"Well, it's her loss, am I right?  You guys will find someone better, I'm sure," said Mirabelle.

"But where?  Where can we find a beautiful woman who is also charming and smart and kind?" said Frank, a look of misery on his gorgeous face.

"And what woman can handle the love of two men at the same time?  No, we shall never find another one like her again," said Hans.

"Gosh, she sounds really special.  What happened?  You two... err, three were dating back in Germany?" said Mirabelle.

"Yes, we met at a... I don't know how to say it in English, a kind of underground poetry bar.  They are very common in some parts of Germany," said Frank.

"A rathskeller," said Hans.

"Ah, yes?  Okay, then yes, that is where we met.  Hans and I were both in the audience that night, and we took one look at her, and we just knew that she was our destiny," said Frank.

"Wow, okay," said Mirabelle.

"We... how do you say?  We dated for a few weeks, but there were also some problems.  She wanted to date other people, and I am afraid that Hans and I got quite jealous," said Frank.

"For good reason!" muttered Hans.

"We argued sometimes, but then I had the idea of a holiday together.  My hopes were that, if we could have some time alone, we could resolve all the problems in our relationship," said Frank.

"Ha!" said Hans.

"And then what happened?" said Mirabelle, luxuriating in the deep heat of the waters of the hot spring, her muscles slowly relaxing as the pulsating bubbles did their work.

"Well, for the first week, everything went wonderfully.  We toured the Parthenon in Athens, ate seafood at lovely little cafes, and danced until dawn in the discotheques," said Frank.

"My gosh, we probably saw each other somewhere.  I had to come to Pykanos to get away from all that lifestyle," said Mirabelle.

"And then, one morning, Hans and I wanted to go to a museum.  She said that she felt tired and wanted to sleep a bit more, so we left her in the hotel.  But Hans forgot his money, so we returned, only to catch her in bed with the maid," said Frank.

"The maid!" exclaimed Mirabelle.

"That awful, awful woman," muttered Hans.

"Yes, and that's when she told us that she found being in a relationship with us was... how do you say it in English?" said Frank, muttering something in German.

"Stifling," said Hans.

"Yes, stifling.  She said she could not breathe with the two of us around, and that is why she was in bed with another woman," said Frank.

"My gosh, that does sound like... a very European situation," said Mirabelle.

"And that was the last we saw of her.  After we caught her in bed with the hotel maid, she packed her luggages and then left," said Hans.

"But over the next two days, we kept seeing her in different places.  Sometimes, she'd be at the disco, and other times, we'd see her at a restaurant or a cafe, laughing and talking with people we didn't know.  So we decided to go someplace far away, where we'd be sure not to run into her," said Frank.

"And that's why you came to Pykanos!" said Mirabelle.

"That's right," said Frank.  "But we did not know about this hot spring.  All we knew was that tourists don't come to Pykanos, so we came here and rented a room from the lady who operates the restaurant."

"Dinner at six o'clock!" said Mirabelle, the three of them breaking into laughter for a moment.

"She told us not to come up here, but we did it anyway," said Hans.

"She told me the same thing!" said Mirabelle.

"Yes, and so, after a long and refreshing alpine hike, we discovered this little valley with the hot spring, and so we jumped in to enjoy it.  This place is so wonderful that I think the locals want to keep it a secret from the tourists," said Frank.

"Wow, that's exactly what I was thinking, too," said Mirabelle.  "Tourists would just ruin this place, so we gotta keep it our little secret, eh, guys?"

"Yes, it will be our little secret," said Hans, giving Mirabelle a flirty little wink that set her heart racing for a moment.

"What happens on Pykanos Mountain, stays on Pykanos Mountain," intoned Frank, and a moment later, they all burst out laughing.

Are you saying what I think you’re saying?

For several long, delicious minutes, Mirabelle and her two male companions enjoyed the heat of the bubbling hot springs, the refreshing breeze on their faces, and the gorgeous view of the sea in amicable silence.

But then, from the corner of her eyes, Mirabelle noticed Frank lean forward and whisper something into Hans's ear.  Mirabelle felt it would be rude to stare at them as they conspired together, but all their low talking in a language that she couldn't understand was becoming rude.

"Mirabelle," said Frank, turning to look at her after breaking off his conversation with Hans at last.  "Hans has something that he wishes to tell you."

"No, I don't," said Hans, sinking down into the waters of the hot spring until only his nose was above water.

"What were you two whispering about?" said Mirabelle, a cautious smile on her lips.

"Hans, he is to... how do you say?  He is too shit chicken to tell you that he finds you very attractive," said Frank.

"My, my," said Mirabelle, her smile widening as she turned to look at Hans.  "Is that true?"

"Yes," burbled Hans, his voice muffled by the water.

"Also, I wish to say that I think you are very pretty.  In fact, I would say you are a sexy, foxy lady, Mirabelle," said Frank.

"My gosh, well thank you," said Mirabelle, doing a mock curtsey that made Frank laugh and Hans gurgle with mirth from underneath the water.

"Hans also wishes to know if you find him attractive," said Frank.

"Well, where I come from, a real man has the courage to tell a lady what he thinks to her face," said Mirabelle, sitting up in the water, causing Hans's eyes to swivel directly to her exposed breasts.

From behind her, Mirabelle heard Frank call out some kind of encouragement to Hans in German.

For one agonizing moment, Hans remained there under the water, but in one swift moment, he sat up and fixed his gaze directly in Mirabelle's eyes.

"What I told Frank was that you are the most beautiful woman I have met in Greece.  I also told him that being with you was the first time that I felt less pain from my broken heart."

"Wow," said Mirabelle, a deep warmth spreading out from her chest.

"We were very sad when we came here, thinking that all the unspoiled beauty of Greece would be lost to us because of our sadness.  But this miraculous Garden of Eden has lifted the fog, and being around you makes me feel glad in my heart, somehow," said Frank.

"My goodness!" said Mirabelle, her heart racing.  "You two boys are very elegant when you want to be."

"You also have great tits," said Hans, giving Mirabelle a salacious wink.

"You are very sexy, Mirabelle.  In fact, the truth is that I want you," said Frank.

"We both want you," said Hans.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" said Mirabelle.

"We are," said Frank and Hans in near-perfect harmony.

For one long moment, Mirabelle sat there, unable to formulate a reply.  On one hand, it was completely crazy as hell for her to have sex with two guys she just met.  I mean, two guys!  Never in her life had she even kissed two guys at the same time, much less do something more than that.

But on the other hand, why not?  Hans and Frank were both very attractive young men.  And she did feel at ease talking to them and hanging out with them.  What was there to lose by trying a threesome with them?  After all, they were up here in a hidden valley at the top of a mountain.  No one would ever find out.  After all, what happens on Pykanos stays on Pykanos.

Yet a threesome, really?  Was she even that kind of a woman?  The truth was that Mirabelle didn't even know any women who had been in a threesome unless you counted her college friend Rhoda who was a lesbian.  But one girl with two guys?  How would that even work, logistically?

Still, though, a secret part of Mirabelle remembered that she had, in fact, watched a few pornographic videos of just a scenario, one woman getting fucked hard by two guys.  And had she liked them?  She had.  In fact, one particular one where the guy yanked the girl's hair a certain way while she was getting fucked from both ends had been a regular favorite.

"Let's start slow and see where it goes.  What do you say?" said Frank.

"Oh, all right," said Mirabelle, her heart surging as she rode a wave of both excitement and nervousness.

"I would like to kiss you first," said Hans.

Mirabelle could do little but nod her assent, and a moment later, Hans scooted closer to her before leaning in and placing a warm, gentle kiss on her lips.  The touch of the satiny velvet of his lips was almost feather-light, but the intensity of the heat set off sparklers up and down her spine.

"Yes?" said Hans, and all Mirabelle could do was murmur her consent before Hans closed in once more, this time giving her a firm, passionate kiss that caused colors to flash across the back of her eyelids.

"Wow," said Mirabelle at long last after Hans broke off from kissing her.

"Just watching him kiss you is driving me mad with desire," said Frank, standing up in the hot spring Jacuzzi to wade over to Mirable before bending down, cupping her by the back of the neck, and planting a long, smoldering kiss on her.

So soft and sensuous were his lips, combined with the heady aroma of his masculine sweat, that Mirabelle nearly fainted.  So disengaged was her rational brain that she could scarcely make out the fact that Frank's now engorged penis was bobbing around in the air just a few inches from her face.  But her body knew how to respond, and soon, it wasn't just the waters of the Jacuzzi that were creating a powerful, wet heat between her legs.

"I have to say, you two guys are the best kissers I've ever met!  Whew!" said Mirabelle when she had partially regained her senses.

"Shh.  From now on, no talking," said Frank, giving her a confident wink that sent Mirabelle's thighs trembling, and the only response she could formulate was to nod yes.

"This is going to be Wunderbar," said Hans as he wrapped Mirabelle in his arms.

And for the next long while, no more words were spoken, indeed.

Rodeo

It wasn't long before the waters of the hot spring began churning into a frenzy as Mirabelle indulged in all of her carnal desires with the two young men she had discovered at the top of the mountain in the remote Greek island of Pykanos.

At first, it was Frank who dominated her attention, embracing her naked body as the two of them indulged in a wild storm of passionate kisses, Hans's presence only sensed from the two strong hands that she felt massaging her back.  Frank's hands and fingers eagerly sought out every inch of her curves, grasping and stroking her flesh as his lips continued to rain down kisses.

Mirabelle felt the heat rise inside of her, and she began to feel that the only way to quench the volcanic desire inside of her was to have Frank's cock inside of her.  Blindly searching in front of her, at last, Mirabelle's fingers found the hard, warm shaft of Frank's penis, the skin thrumming under her touch.  Frank moaned as she gave his shaft two or three long and languorous strokes before arching her hips and guiding him inside of her.

The rhythmic slaps of the water as it splashed out of the hot springs and onto the nearby rocks matched the frenzied coupling between Mirabelle and Frank, their hips moving in perfect synchronicity, his gorgeous, wonderful cock plunging her to ever-greater depths of pressure as she rose and then sank with delicious aplomb to the base of his shaft.

So blissed out was Mirabelle by the escalating bursts of dazzling wonder that she lost all sense of linear thoughts, only a tiny corner of her mind noting that Hans's strong hands remained on her back the entire time, his nimble fingers providing just the right amount of push to make every ride up and down on Frank's magnificent penis just a tiny bit more intense.

And then, it happened, a tsunami of bright explosions rolled through her, every muscle in her legs quivering and pulsating with the rhythm of her orgasm.  But before she could regain control of her body and demand another ride on Frank's magnificent cock, she felt him slip out of her, momentarily leaving her feeling cold and empty.

But just a moment later, those warm, strong hands of Hans spun her around, and she found his lips eagerly seeking hers, and the furnace inside of her roared back into full flame.  Whereas Frank's kisses had been hard and hungry, Hans's lips were satiny soft, sending shivers of electricity through her skin.

It was not long before Mirabelle began frantically searching in front of her for Hans's penis, her fingers gratefully grasping the delightful girth of his truly spectacular endowment.  Indeed, Mirabelle had never encountered any man so impressively equipped, and she gasped with both pleasure and nervousness at what that engorged shaft would feel like inside of her.

But Mirabelle was wet and aching for his life, so it was only a moment later that Mirabelle thrust her hips to navigate Hans's oversized member into the right position.  Yet despite her lust, it took a long moment before she felt her lips being spread apart, stretched to their very limit as Hans's penis edged its way inside her.

Thankfully, Hans was a tender lover, and he remained perfectly still as his full-sized cock tunneled its way into Mirabelle's recesses.  And then it began, Hans somehow sensing that she was ready by slowly, and with excruciating pleasure, withdrawing his cock before steadily sliding it home, the rhythm of his exertions gently increasing in velocity until what had been a slow and delicious slide up and down the shaft of his cock was a rodeo ride on a bucking bronco, once that always seemed to be just at the point of splitting her in two.

Her heart pounding like a triphammer, Mirabelle wrapped her arms around Hans's neck and held on for dear life as he pounded her harder and harder, pushing her each time closer to the cliff of oblivion.  And then, just when she thought she could take no more, Hans lifted her high with his hands before letting her sink all the way down to the very base of his engorged shaft.

With the full breadth and width of Hans's cock inside of her, Mirabelle's pussy exploded into a full symphony orchestra of fireworks, bugle charges, and drum rolls.  Flopping around like a gaffed fish, her muscles now a jangled mess of overheated wires, it was only the firm embrace of Hans's arms around her that kept her from sinking limply into the frothing waters of the hot springs.

For several long moments, all rational thoughts escaped Mirabelle's head, and when she came to, she was still in Hans's embrace, his penis still all the way deep inside of her, perfectly still yet as engorged and erect as ever.  But just then, she felt Frank's strong hands behind her as he grasped her by the shoulders.

Instead of a massage, though, what Mirabelle felt next was an insistent poking at the bottom of her spine, and she realized with a start what was about to happen.  Mirabelle had never really tried anal sex before, only a few timid explorations from one of her ex-boyfriends, so she was a bit apprehensive about what it would feel like.  But her body was so drenched with pleasure and yet still on fire for more, so she closed her eyes and opened her mind to the experience.

Mirabelle let out a little gasp when she felt the head of Frank's cock find its mark, an insistent, warm presence in her backside.  And then, the tip slipped inside of her, stretching her open in a way that she had never felt before and yet, somehow, also felt comfortably familiar.  Frank grunted and then pushed himself even further inside, and every cell in her body began to smoke as overheated currents of nirvana started pulsating inside of her.

Frank's dick was barely moving, sliding into her ass at the slowest possible speed, and yet, to Mirabelle, it felt like she was flying down a highway, her mind blown by how such a strange sensation could connect with the very deepest pools of desire in her body.  And then, he stopped, perhaps only a third of the way into her, leaving Mirabelle feeling absolutely stuffed full.

The only solution was for Mirabelle to start grinding, her super slow gyrations pulling and pushing on Frank's cock.  As she did so, she also felt her clit sparkle into new life as her actions also caused Hans's cock to begin creating delicious friction between her pussy and his shaft.

The two men worked as one, each synchronizing their movements with the other as they gently lifted Mirabelle up and down, their cocks sliding in and out of her pussy and ass.  Never in her life had two bright suns of pleasure radiated like this in Mirabelle's body, and she marveled at the wondrous sensation of feeling several different types of ecstasy begin flickering through her.

And then the water began loudly slapping onto the paving stones around the hot spring as the Frank and Hans fucked Mirabelle hard and deep with an intense pistoning that sent ten million megawatts blasting through every nerve fiber in her body.

Letting out a loud, feral cry, Mirabelle soared into the heavens as bright cascades of orgasmic ecstasy blew out all of her circuits, her muscles doing a frenetic dance as her fingers sank painfully deep into Hans's upper arms as each successive blast wave obliterated all rational control of herself.

Somewhere in there, amidst the blinding supernovae exploding all around her, Mirabelle felt a warm stream trickle down inside of her pussy, and a similar wetness in her backside told her that Frank had probably finished as well, the two young men pulling out of her a minute later.

Grateful and bedazzled by the intensity of the pleasure the three of them had just shared, Mirabelle sank backward into the waters of the hot spring for several long minutes to catch her breath, utterly insensate to the rest of the world for quite a while, indeed.

Unforgettable

When Mirabelle came to, it was the burning pain on her face that shot her into wakefulness.  Gazing up, she saw that the sun was now much lower in the sky, and careful exploration of her cheeks revealed that she had gotten a bit sunburned on one side.  Indeed, her left shoulder, which had been above water as she slept, was visibly turning a bright pink.

Mirabelle went to hoist herself out of the natural Jacuzzi, but her first attempt failed as her muscles were still trembling and quite weak.  It was only while repositioning herself for a second attempt that she realized that Hans and Frank were no longer in the hot springs with her.

After crawfishing her way out of the water and up into a standing position, the late afternoon breeze sending a little chill down her spine, Mirabelle headed straight to where she had left her carefully folded clothes.  A few moments later, she was dressed, the fabric of her clothes initially feeling a bit odd and uncomfortable until she got used to the sensation.

Looking around, Mirabelle could see no trace of either Hans or Frank, nor could she see any of their clothes or other belongings.  It was as if they had never been there in this hidden mountain glade with her, giving Mirabelle her first experience of being fucked by two guys at the same time.

"Hello?" called out Mirabelle, but she received no response.  Scouting around for a bit, she saw and heard nothing, and it seemed clear that they had gone back to the village without waiting for her.

Feeling slightly irritated, Mirabelle then began cautiously making her way along the path that led down the mountain.  She had to walk exceptionally slowly because her muscles, especially those in her upper thighs, were quite unsteady, and there was a stinging raw sensation between her legs that sometimes chafed her crotch.

From her backside, though, Mirabelle could still feel a warm glow of pleasure, and she marveled to herself that she had never tried anal sex before because clearly, it was a new level of delight.  In fact, her entire body felt suffused with the afterglow of her orgasms, and despite the two young men abandoning her at the end, she found herself grinning from ear to ear.

Indeed, despite feeling a bit miffed by the boys' decision to go back to the village without waiting for her, Mirabelle felt sure that she would find some way to get alone time with Hans and Frank at least one more time before the ferry arrived and they all had to go their separate ways.  Yes, indeed, Mirabelle thought that perhaps next time they could do it in a bed, but she was definitely interested in another go-round with the two, strapping young men.

By the time she got closer to the base of the mountain, the sea was about to swallow the sun, and a rather cold breeze began whipping Mirabelle's hair into her face.  Now feeling quite underdressed, Mirabelle wrapped her arms around herself as she carefully continued her descent in the growing darkness.  The peace and warmth she had felt up in the glade seemed to dissipate, replaced by the cold sea spray and ever-shifting wind at the base of the mountain.

At long last, Mirabelle arrived back in the village, eagerly making her way along the shadow-filled streets until she saw the restaurant come into view.  This time, the front door was unlocked, and Mirabelle saw several people merrily eating and talking when she pushed her way inside the restaurant.

"Ah, you are here just on the time," said the proprietor, smiling as she strode her way over to Mirabelle from the kitchen.  "Please, have a seat."

"Ah, thank you," said Mirabelle, gratefully taking a seat at the nearest table.

"One moment," said the proprietor, and then she whisked her way over to the kitchen and out of sight.

Sitting on the table was a tall glass of water, and Mirabelle polished it off with one long draught, not realizing just how thirsty she had been until the water touched her lips.

Letting out a burp that she only partially covered with her hand, Mirabelle set the empty glass onto the table and sat back, relaxing into the contours of the chair.  Truly, this had been one of the longest, strangest, and most unforgettable days of her life.  Brief flashes of memory of all the wild things she had been doing in the hot springs with Frank and Hans flitted through her mind, and then her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had expended quite a lot of calories during her mad adventures.

However, glancing around the restaurant, Mirabelle realized that the two young men were not present.  She knew that they were renting out rooms here, so where could they be?  Nothing else was open in the village, and weren't they hungry?  Mirabelle felt like would faint if she did not get some food soon.  But there was just no sign of Frank or Hans.

"Here you go," said the proprietor a moment later, setting down a lovely clay bowl with steaming soup on the table in front of her.  "I will bring the main courses in a few minutes."

"Uh, before you go," said Mirabelle, reaching out to briefly grasp the woman's arm.  "Do you know where Hans and Frank are, by any chance?"

"Hanzinfrink?  I do not know this word," said the proprietor.

"No, they are two names.  Do you have two German men staying here with you?" said Mirabelle.

"Only Germans there," said the proprietor, pointing at a table on the other side of the restaurant where a portly man in his 50s sat eating dinner across from a matronly woman wearing glasses.  "Mr. and Mrs. Steiner."

"No, no, these guys are named Frank and Hans.  They're about my age," said Mirabelle.

"Nobody like this is here," said the proprietor, snatching her arm away from Mirabelle's reach before scurrying back to the kitchen.

Shaking her head in confusion, Mirabelle picked up her spoon and ladled a mouthful of soup up to her lips.  An explosion of vibrant flavors danced on her tongue, the deep salty tang of the seafood melting perfectly together with a crisp, citrusy base of some kind.

"Hey, don't talk about Hans and Frank to Mrs. Velos," said a young man with thick, black hair in a low voice from the adjacent table.

"What?" said Mirabelle, turning to face him.

"The proprietor.  She's scared of ghosts.  She's a very religious woman," said the young man.

"What are you talking about?" said Mirabelle.

"Oh, sorry.  My name is Christos.  I live here on Pykanos.  I thought I heard you asking Mrs. Velos about the legend of Hans and Frank," said the young man.

"What?  I don't know anything about ghost stories," said Mirabelle.

"Really?  Well, the way it goes is that supposedly, two German soldiers named Hans and Frank came to Pykanos during World War II.  The way the story goes, they were both very handsome and attractive men, so one of the local girls fell in love.  The Germa soldiers then lured her up to the top of the mountain and then raped and killed her," said Christos.

"What?  That's horrible," said Mirabelle.

"Yes, but the Germans claimed it was an accident, that one of the ladies had slipped and hit her head on the rocks.  But the men of the town became so enraged that they dragged Hans and Frank up there and then killed them, even though they kept protesting their innocence right up until the last moment," said Christos.

"Oh, that's awful," said Mirabelle.

"Yeah, so they say that, after they died, their ghosts started haunting the hot spring and they try to entice women up there so that they can get their revenge on the town, even to this day," said Christos.

"That is quite a story," said Mirabelle.

"Actually, of course, it's just a silly story we tell tourists so that they don't go up there.  The path is quite close to the cliff, and it's quite easy to have a serious accident.  Plus, those rocks can be quite sharp," said Christos.

"Yeah, just a silly story.  Well, thanks anyway.  I don't want to let this soup get cold," said Mirabelle.

"Sure, no problem," said Christos, giving her a strangely intense look before rising to his feet and making his way out of the restaurant.

Throughout the rest of the meal, which did, indeed, turn out to be a delicious repast of authentic Greek food, Mirabelle sat there in silence, turning over the words of Christos in her mind as she cast back her memory to all of the wild and crazy things she had done with the two men in the hot spring.

Had it all been just a figment of her imagination?  Surely, not.  Her body was a testament to the aftereffects of participating in her first threesome.  But at the same time, there were no signs of Hans and Frank here in the village, and the locals were telling ghost stories about two men with the same name.  Something didn't add up, but Mirabelle didn't know what to believe.

When she stepped onto the ferry the next day, she remained just as confused as ever, so she decided to shrug it off as one of life's mysteries.  And when she got back to the United States, it had taken on the pale shimmer of a dream whose details seemed harder and harder to remember.

But it wasn't too terribly long before Mirabelle convinced another two guys to join her in sharing the unique pleasures that only two willing and well-equipped men can provide.

All Lit Up

Holly

Holly smiled as she stepped back to savor all her hard work.  After many long hours, the Christmas decorations in her apartment were nearing perfection.

There were festive garlands framing the mantle, wreaths on every door, and no fewer than seven different types of Christmas lights strung across every wall, merrily twinkling and blinking in the fading afternoon light.

And the tree?  Every bough was festooned with ornaments, each one a treasured item from her vast collection, right down to the hand blown glass angel on the top.  Christmas lights were carefully laid out in a perfect spiral, perfectly matching the garland she had made out of popcorn and dried cranberries.  It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

Everywhere she looked, Holly saw Christmas, and that thought made her very happy, indeed.  All year long, she had waited for the season to arrive, and now it was here!  Sure, there was no snow outside, and her family was far away, but other than that, this was perfection.

Yes, she sighed to herself, at least she could relax and enjoy every single moment of this wonderful holiday, a time when it was okay to permit your neighbors good cheer, pray for world peace, and indulge herself in sweet treats like homemade cookies, gooey fudge, and, of course, steaming mugs of peppermint hot chocolate, her absolute favorite.

But just as she turned to head to the kitchen to pour herself another helping of hot chocolate, her foot caught on one of the Christmas tree light cables, knocking her to the floor.  There was a loud hiss, and then a bright flash of light as several of the bulbs popped.  And then Holly shrieked as a powerful jolt of electricity zapped her, momentarily causing her to lose consciousness.

Feeling woozy, Holly slowly sat up, wincing at the pain she felt in every muscle in her body.  What had just happened?  She then gasped in horror as she saw that all of her Christmas lights were now lifeless and dead.  This was a disaster!

Holly bounded to her feet and then began frantically checking all the cables.  Several of them had been fused into a nasty plastic mess that singed her fingers when she touched it.  She tried unplugging them and then plugging them back in, but it was no use.  Something had shorted them out, and now Christmas was completely ruined!

Dashing to the fuse box in the front hallway, Holly sent up a silent prayer, hoping that maybe all she needed to do was flip a switch, and then Christmas would come back.  But to her dismay, nothing happened, and she spent several long moments angrily flipping the switches back and forth, cursing at their stubborn refusal to bring her Christmas lights back to life.

What was she going to do?  Trapped in an apartment without her beautiful, wonderful lights was a nightmare.  And for this to happen on Christmas Eve?  A total catastrophe.  There was no way that Santa was going to be able to find her now, not in a dark, empty apartment without a wonderland of lights to guide him.

Sobbing to herself, Holly paced around her apartment, trying to figure out what to do.  Was there time to go to the store and buy some new ones?  No, wait, it was already after five o'clock, and most of them shut down early because of the holiday.  Order some lights online?  No, they'd never get delivered on time, even if she paid extra for rush shipping.

It was all so hopeless!  Christmas was utterly ruined.  All those long hours and hard work of getting everything decorated to perfection, for naught.  She had obviously been a Bad Girl this year, and this was Santa's way of punishing her.  That was the only explanation that made sense.

But then an idea struck her.  Maybe this wasn't Santa's doing.  Maybe there was some manufacturing defect in her lights.  Yes!  And so what she really needed to do was call in an electrician, someone who understood these things.  Of course!  And then he could use his skills to restore Christmas, and everything would be okay again.

Taking out her phone, Holly began going through all the listings for electricians in her city.  But as she clicked through to voice call them, she got one recorded message after another, informing her with maddening cheerfulness that they were closed for the holidays.  No!  This couldn't be happening.  Surely, there had to be a man out there who could deliver her a Christmas miracle.

With grim determination, Holly went through every listing for an electrician that she could find.  And then, at long last, a human being answered.

"Hello?" came the gruff male voice on the other end.  

"Hi there!" said Holly, being sure to put on a cheerful Christmas smile as she spoke.  "I'm so happy that you answered.  I really need an electrician.  Can you help me?"

"Oh shit," said the man.  "Sorry, I only answered by accident.  We're closed.  Call back next week, miss."

"Please, sir!" said Holly, fighting back years.  "It's a Christmas emergency!"

"Look, as I said, we're closed," said the man.  "And my wife will tan my hide if I tell her I'm heading out to do a job right now, you feel me?  But, um, if it's really an emergency, I may know a guy who can help."

"Yes, sir, it really is!" said Holly, her heart racing.  

"Okay, hang on," said the man, setting the phone down for a minute.  "All right, are you still there?  His name is Nick, and here's his number.  I'm... not sure if he's still got his license or not, but he's your best bet.  I worked with him on a couple of jobs, and he knows his stuff."

"Oh, thank you, sir!  Thank you one million times," gushed Holly.  "And I wish you the very merriest Christmas."

"Yeah, all right," said the man with a wry chuckle before ending the call.

As quick as a wink, Holly dialed the number the man had given her.  At first, she was excited to hear the call go through, but then it rang and rang with no answer.  Just when she was about to give up, though, someone picked up.

"Um, hello?" came a male voice.

"Hello, is this Nick?" said Holly, remembering to use her cheerful Christmas tone of voice.

"Yeah, who's this?" said the man on the other end.

"My name's Holly.  And I got your phone number from Jolt Brothers," said Holly.  "I'm in need of an electrician, and they said you might be able to help.  It's an emergency!"

"An emergency, eh?" said Nick after a long pause.  "You do realize that it's Christmas Eve, right?"

"Yes, of course," said Holly.  "That's exactly why it's an emergency!  Something happened to my Christmas lights.  And I just don't know what I'd do without them.  Christmas has to be perfect, you see."

"Sure, right," came Nick's reply.  "Listen, if I come out there, I'm gonna have to charge you a five hundred dollar callout free."

"Oh, of course!  No problem," gushed Holly, her heart thumping in her chest.  "I'm happy to pay it.  Please, you have to help me."

"All right, all right," came Nick's grumbling reply.  "What's your address?"

Holly told him, and she could hear the scratching of a pen as he took down the details.  "All right, I'll be there in an hour or so."

"Thank you, Nick!  You don't know how much this means to me," said Holly.  "If you can get my lights working again, it'll truly be a Christmas miracle."

"Yeah, yeah," said Nick.  "Just sit tight."

"Thank you," said Holly, sighing with happiness after closing the connection.  

See?  She wasn't a Bad Girl after all.  Santa was just testing her to see if she was worthy.  And she was, she really was!  And after Nick came over and worked his magic, everything in the world would be okay again.  There was still plenty of time before midnight for her to get everything ready for his arrival.

Nick

Nick waited until Bruce Willis uttered the famous line about yippee-ki-yay to the terrorists and then got up to go into the kitchen to get himself another beer.

After popping off the top and enjoying a big swig, he intentionally averted his eyes from the pile of dishes in the sink.  It was Christmas Eve, so who knew?  Maybe a magic fairy would come clean up his kitchen.  And if not, well, those dishes would just have to wait.

Scratching his belly, which had become surprisingly itchy recently, Nick headed back into the living room and sat down on the recliner with a loud oomph.  He loved his old recliner, but his lower back certainly didn't.  Perhaps he ought to invest in a new chair if some money came his way, but for now, it'd have to do.

As he continued to nurse his beer, Nick marveled at how much the world had changed.  In the movie, the terrorists were all Germans, which almost seemed funny nowadays.

Unfortunately, a loud burp escaped him right when Alan Rickman uttered his best line, but Nick was too lazy to press stop and rewind to play it again.  Anyway, he'd already seen the movie a hundred times before.  

Just as Bruce reached the top floor of the Nakatomi Plaza building, Nick's phone rang, causing him to spill a little beer on his undershirt.  But since it already had a few other stains on it, a new wet patch was the least of his concerns.

Who in the world was calling him now?  Probably some fool telemarketer, trying to catch some sucker at home.

"Hello?" he growled after making the connection.

But it wasn't a telemarketer.  Instead, it was a woman, a rather sweet older lady by the sound of her voice, and she was in frantic need of help.  It took Nick a minute to understand what she was saying, that she'd done something to her Christmas lights and shorted out her whole apartment.

At first, Nick had been irritated by the phone call interrupting his yearly tradition, but then he realized that this might be a blessing in disguise.  Thinking fast, he told her that there'd be a $500 callout fee, which she agreed to without hesitation.  Wow, maybe he'd be able to buy a new chair after all.

"All right, just sit tight.  I'll be there in about an hour," he told the woman after getting her address.  She only lived a short distance away, but Nick knew he needed some time to clean himself up and sober up a bit.

Ever since that putz Billy had ratted him out for drinking on the job, work opportunities had been few and far between.  There just weren't that many people willing to hire an electrician who had lost his license, not unless some kind of freak storm hit the area, so Nick was in a jolly mood by the time he washed his face and changed into a clean-ish pair of coveralls.

The lady on the phone had been so frantic, it had been hard to understand exactly how much damage she'd done.  But between the callout fee and the job, he might easily walk away with a thousand bucks, which put a pep in his step as he combed his hair and donned his jacket.

Just as he was about to leave the house, Nick glanced over and saw his old red Santa hat sitting on the crowded dresser.  Thinking it'd be a nice way to cheer up the old lady who was clearly on her own for the holidays, Nick put the hat onto his head before heading out into the icy cold.

With the blowing snow, Nick had a hell of a time finding the lady's apartment building.  But at last, he saw the street number and was lucky enough to get a parking spot close to the front door.  Whistling to himself, he unlimbered his toolbox from the back of his beat-up truck and then rang the doorbell.

Thankfully, the lady buzzed him in before his fingers could get numb, and Nick wearily climbed the three floors to her apartment.  To his complete surprise, when she opened the door, he saw that she wasn't an old lady at all but a rather attractive blonde woman in her late 20s.  She was wearing a short little red velvet dress with white faux fur trim that nicely set off her curves.

Dang, this job was looking better and better he thought to himself as he stepped into her living room, surprisingly well-lit by the dozens of candles she had burning.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here!" said the lady, whose name he'd already forgotten, assuming she'd told it to him.  Sometimes, the beer made his mind go fuzzy a bit.

"Yep," said Nick, stifling a belch.  "Now show me the problem."

Nick's eyebrows went up when the hot chick led him over to a bundle of cables that had been fused together.  

"And then there was this loud pop, and oof, I felt this sharp pain," said the woman, bending down and pointing at the cables, the generous neckline of her dress making it hard for him to concentrate.

"Woah," said Nick.  "Are you okay?  Maybe you should get that checked out.  Being electrocuted is no joke."

"Oh, I feel fine now," said the woman, a dreamy look in her eyes.  "But it just won't be Christmas without my lights!"

"All right, let me have a look," said Nick, rather enjoying her eyes on him as he carefully traced the cables back to the outlet.  Sure enough, the cheap Chinese junk had shorted out, and it was a miracle that the lights hadn't caught on fire.

"Santa just won't be able to find his way here if everything isn't perfect!" said the woman.

"Mm-hmm," said Nick, ignoring her chatter as he scouted around for the fuse box.  

The good news was that the fuses had done their job.  Three of them had blown, but that was no problem as they were a standard size, and he had plenty of extras in his toolbox.  Replacing the fuses would be easy.  The real work would be unplugging all the crap she had going to what was clearly an overloaded extension cord.

"Okay, the good news is I can get the power back on," said Nick, turning to face her, once again struck by her good looks.  Of course, she was a couple of decades younger than he was, but it didn't stop him from enjoying the view.

"Oh, you're an angel!  You truly are," said the woman, clapping her hands together in a way that made her chest jiggle in a most distracting way.

"Bad news is it looks like most of your lights got fried," said Nick.  "I mean, you've got quite a lot of them.  You really shouldn't connect so many to one outlet."

"I just can't help it," said the woman with a girlish giggle.  "I just love Christmas so much!"

"Uh-huh," said Nick.  "All right, let me see what I can do."

"While you're doing that, I'm going to bake you up some Christmas cheer," announced the woman, dashing off toward the kitchen.

Nick smiled to himself as he got to work popping out the dead fuses and replacing them with new ones.  Once that was done, he turned his attention to the job of separating out the salvageable Christmas lights from the ones which were trashed.

Once he'd unplugged everything from the extension cords, Nick walked back over to the fuse box and flipped the switch, rewarded a moment later by seeing all the lights in the house come on.

"Oh, you did it!" cried the woman from the kitchen.

Her enthusiasm was almost infectious, and Nick felt himself continuing to smile as he began untangling the intact cables from the melted mess.  By the time a delicious aroma of gooey chocolate chips hit his nose, he had managed to save five strands of Christmas lights, much more than he had expected.

Nick then carefully plugged each one in to test them and was happy to see them blink into life.  Standing up, he had to admit that the odd but still quite sexy lady had done a pretty good job decorating her apartment.  Everywhere he looked, there was something Christmasy, giving the place a warm glow.

"Hope you're hungry!" said the woman, bearing a tray of cookies and a pitcher of milk as she walked into the living room.

"Wow, thanks," said Nick, wiping his hands on his coveralls before taking one, which was piping hot, forcing him to eat it in tiny little bites instead of gulping it down.

"You know," said the woman with a little titter.  "With you wearing that hat and eating my cookies, why, a girl might think that you're actually Santa in disguise."

"Yeah," said Nick with a little chuckle, unable to resist helping himself to another one of her cookies.  

"Plus, your name is Nick," said the woman, one finger toying with her bottom lip as she looked up at him.  

"That's me," said Nick, starting to feel quite warm.  The lady must've had the oven cranked up because the temperature in the apartment was almost sweltering.

"You know, I've been waiting for you my whole life, ever since I was a little girl," said the woman, her eyes wide and shiny in a way that was a bit unsettling.

"Oh, is that so?" said Nick, feeling woozy.  Whether it was the heat or something else, he was finding it hard to think straight.

"I wrote you a letter every year," said the woman with a little pout.  "But you never came to visit me."

"Oh, um, sorry about that," said Nick, now starting to get alarmed.  Had she put some kind of drug in the cookies?  Everything felt strange and distorted, as if he were underwater or something.  It was all very weird.

Even in his altered condition, Nick couldn't help but notice the woman playing with the hem of her dress, causing it to ride up just a little.  What was going on here?  Why, if he didn't know better, he'd almost think that she was flirting with him or something.

"You remember me, don't you, Santa?" said the woman, both hands now clutching the hem of her dress.  "I'm Holly.  Your special girl.  You still like me, don't you?"

"Right, Holly," mumbled Nick, sweat beading on his forehead.  "Sure, yeah, of course."

"I knew it!" said Holly, a strange light dancing in her eyes as she lifted one hand and stuck out her thumb before plopping it straight into her mouth.  Was she really sucking on her finger, or was he just imagining all this?

"Listen, um, the work's all done," said Nick, struggling to get the words out of his mouth.  "Total's gonna be eight hundred and fifty.  Cash if you got it."

"Oh, Santa," said Holly with a little giggle as wiggled her body in a way that caused Nick to begin thinking some very naughty thoughts even through the fog of whatever she'd drugged the cookies with.  "I think you know that's not how I'm going to pay you."

"Um, what?" was about all Nick could get out before his legs gave way and he collapsed onto the sofa.

Holly

After her Christmas lights had short-circuited, Holly had been truly distraught.  But then after making a series of phone calls, just the sound of Nick's calming voice, telling her he was on the way over to make everything good again, had restored her spirits.

But it was when she opened the door to see him standing there in the hallway, a sexy little grin on his face, his red hat rakishly tilted to one side, that she realized what exactly was going on.

I mean, you didn't need to be a genius to put two and two together.  A man with gray whiskers, wearing a Santa hat, named Nick?  And he was just so conveniently in town on Christmas Eve?  Come on!  It couldn't be more obvious.

But Holly knew how the game was played, so she let him into her apartment and went along with the charade that he was just there to fix her lights.  As he pretended to inspect her ruined lights, she couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.