Statistics show that girls who begin an active sex life too young, carry an increased risk of cervical cancer in later life. If you care about your sister or girlfriend, bear this and the other dangers in mind. If you love her, it's safer and more thoughtful to buy her flowers than to fuck her.

I don't believe in Father Christmas but if I did, I'd like to believe in one who fills stockings the way that this one does.

"Now stop making such a fuss. People are looking."

"But I don't want to see him, Mum," protested Penny. "I'm twelve years old now. It's time we both stopped pretending."

The pretty youngster seemed oblivious to the crowd's curiosity though it was difficult to ignore the jostling throng in the packed shopping mall.

"I didn't say that you had to believe in him," said her mother patiently. "I just want one last Christmas photograph of my little girl with Santa Claus. Is that too much to ask?"

"But I'll feel so silly. I stopped believing in all that Father Christmas stuff years ago."

"So, who do you think brings all your presents, Penny?"

"You and Dad of course - who else would spend so much money on me?"

"Well if you don't believe in Santa, perhaps you won't get so much this year," said her mother calmly.

The two walked silently while Penny thought about the implied threat in her mum's words. Even without speaking, Penny was aware of men's heads turning to watch her as she passed. Her slim hips swayed provocatively without her even being aware of the tantalising motion. Her dark blonde shoulder length hair, which gleamed under the bright lights of the mall, emphasised the dark blue almonds of her eyes. Set in a pale slim face, the dark luminosity of her eyes gave her an impish appearance. She was not conceited but she was sensible enough to be aware of the affect that she had on the boys and, despite being only twelve years old, she was just recently discovering that older men were not immune to her charms either.

She did nothing to encourage the attention that she received. In fact it was as much her air of innocence as her waif-like beauty that made her the object of so many men's desires. She was innocent enough not to understand why older men found her so appealing but there was no doubt that they did.

Penny stopped at the window of the sports shop. She breathed a sigh of relief. They were still there. Red leather boots and gleaming blades that reflected the colours of the winking Christmas lights. She'd set her heart on the ice-skates and was adamant that they were the only thing that she desired in all the world. Her reflection stared back at her from the polished glass of the shop front and, in her imagination, she blended the image she could see with the one in her mind. She could see herself in the skates, skimming over the ice, her short white skating skirt flying high to reveal her thighs - knowing in her heart that the admiring glances from the men were as much for the brief revealing glimpses of her panties as for her skating prowess.

"So beautiful," she murmured, lost in the vision of herself as the centre of attention at the ice rink.

"What was that dear?" said her mother, not really paying too much attention.

"Aren't they the most beautiful skates you ever saw?" said Penny enthusiastically.

Her mother pretended disinterest.

"They look like skates to me," she said in a bored tone.

"They're much more than that. They're just perfect. Please mum, say that I can have them."

Her mother smiled mischievously. "You'll have to ask Santa then won't you?"

Penny's face fell as she realised the implication of her mother's words. If she was to get the skates she wanted then her mum would have to get what she wanted, and what she wanted was for Penny to visit Santa's Grotto. She thought about it for a moment but there was no doubt what she would decide. No price would be too high to pay for those skates.

"Okay, you win," said the youngster with rueful grin. "I guess it won't do me too much damage to visit Santa."

Penny had thought that it would be all over in minutes. A quick pose, standing next to Santa and a photograph. It wasn't a high price to make her mum happy, she thought. She had reckoned without the long line of kids in the queue which meant she stood self-consciously aware that she stood inches taller than any of the younger children waiting eagerly to see Santa.

The queue shuffled forward slowly and Penny prayed that none of her school friends passed while she waited. They would tease her for weeks if she was seen lining up with the younger kiddies to see Father Christmas.

Finally, it was her turn.

She entered the darkened grotto and despite her nonchalance and feeling too grown up for all this nonsense, she felt the same thrill of excitement that she had when she was a lot younger. Even if you don't believe that he is real, even if, like Penny, a girl is simply too grown up for kiddie stories, Santa is still someone very special.

She felt a moment's dizziness as the world seemed to spin and she thought that she would faint. Then the feeling passed and she put it down to standing still for too long. Her eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dim light and she took in the woodland scene that had been so cleverly imitated in the centre of a shopping mall. She had to admit to herself that the store had made a magnificent job of faking an enchanted forest.

A winding, leaf strewn path lit by fairy lanterns guided the youngster through ancient gnarled trees. Her eyes widened with enchantment as she began to forget that it was all fake. The tiny elves peering mischievously from behind the trees looked almost real. She could have sworn that as soon as she looked away, tiny figures flitted from tree to tree, but as soon as her gaze fixed on one of them, there was no sign of movement at all.

So intent, was she on trying to detect the elves moving that she almost forgot that they were cleverly made models. She reminded herself that there was no such thing as elves or fairies but the feeling that she was being watched remained. It was the same feeling that she had when she knew that a man was staring at her. Her tummy had the same tingling sensation and the gentle pulse between her thighs was exactly the same. She tried to dismiss the feeling - it was normally the prelude to touching the place where she felt so good but this was hardly the time to do anything about it now. She shook her head and tried to concentrate on anything but the insidious pulse that was making her feel moist between her legs.

She wondered how far she had walked, it seemed an awfully long way - further than she remembered the distance from one end of the mall to the other. She was just reminding herself that there was no such person as Father Christmas when she rounded a tight bend in the path and there he was. He was seated on a deep wide couch, a bulging sack of toys on the ground next to him. Penny wondered how a couch had happened to be in the middle of a forest.

"It's a lot more comfortable than sitting all day on a knobbly log, Penny," said a soft deep voice that seemed to chuckle as it spoke.

Penny stared in astonishment at the white bearded old man in the red cloak and black boots.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" she gasped. "And how do you know my name?"

The rotund figure shook slightly with invisible laughter.

"I've known you since you were a baby, Penny. You didn't think that I'd forget your name did you?"

Penny recovered her wits enough to realise that her mum must given her name to one of the assistants. It was clever the way that they passed the names to Santa. The younger kids would think that it was really magic. She was pleased that the store had taken the trouble to do things so well but she was too old to go along with it.

"Well, I'm not a baby anymore," she retorted, "so it's no use pretending that you're real."

Santa smiled broadly at her.

"I can see that you aren't a baby. You've grown up to be just as beautiful as I thought you would, Penny. You've always been one of my favourites you know."

For a moment, Penny felt a warm glow at his words. His voice was deep and gentle and she struggled hard to remind herself that this was just one of the store's employees. He was very good in the role though.

Santa beckoned her closer and patted the couch next to him. She moved forward slowly and sat down, deciding that there would be no harm in playing along with him. He might be a fake but there was no reason to be rude or offensive to him.

"So, have you been bad or good this year, Penny?"

"You should know that, if you're really Santa," she said mischievously. "don't you know everything?"

"Of course I do but it isn't important what I think. The real issue is whether you think that you've been bad or not."

Penny thought hard about that. It was a neat way of turning the question back onto her. What was she supposed to say? Yes, of course I've been good; now give me a gift and take my picture so that I can get back to shopping with my mum? She said nothing, wondering what Father Christmas would think if he really could see into her thoughts. He would know about the delicious feeling that she had experienced as she walked through the wood. Would he consider that bad? She was sure that just thinking about it didn't count but if he knew that then he would also know about the times when she was able to do something about the feeling. All those times, alone in her bedroom........(cont)