Bernard Santa Clause Movie Novels & Stories

was letting a group of giggling girls tuck dollar bills into his belt. “Mike… this is going to sound insane, but… is your dad at Club Velvet right now?” A long pause. Then a confused laugh. “What? No. Why the hell would my dad be at a club? He’s probably on the couch watching ESPN with a beer. Why?” “There’s a Santa act,” I said, voice low over the music. “And he looks exactly like him. Like… scarily like him.” Mike snorted. “You’re drunk already?”

"Your question was completely absurd. How could someone not know about Christmas? Or Santa Claus? Or the Advent Calendar? It is mind-boggling. I mean, Christmas iss everywhere – in movies, in songs, in advertisements. How could you not have come across any of it?" Feeling embarrassed, I responded, "I'm sorry, I really don't know. Can you please tell me?" Sandy looked at me suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. "Are you serious? You've never heard of Christmas or Santa Claus or anything?"

“It was Christmas when I came home for the holidays. I was devastated about breaking up with Marco over my parents, of course. So, browsing around for a bit to distract myself, I got this email. I didn't even remember having this account anymore, so I logged in again just to delete it. She closed her eyes at the memory. Definitive proof that her father was a lot worse than he thought. Charlotte had grown up hearing strange phone calls in the dead of night and visiting from men…creepy. That's why she feared when the senator told her he would hurt Marco if she didn't obey. But what she saw on Christmas Eve was proof live and in color that Bernard McKeena was one hell of a bad guy.

“You can’t be Santa Claus.” “How do you know? You’ve not seen him before, have you?” The girl paused, her gaze faltering like she was thinking. Then she shook her head, still smiling. “Ha!” he said sharply. “But you’re not Santa Klaus.” Katie argued. “You should be at the North Pole,” Ronan scowled playfully. “You know too much.” Katie laughed, pleased with herself. Solene just smiled despite herself and shook her head, walking to the stairs. “Hannah should be out any moment.” She said, “She’s been dying to meet you.”

This was her daughter's first Christmas in the States and despite everything they had been through, Bianca wanted her to have an amazing day. Around them, people laughed as affectionate couples posed for photographs under the lights, and families gathered near the enormous tree while classic Christmas songs drifted through the air. Just then, Gianna tugged excitedly at Mr. Dominic's jacket. "Grandpa! Santa!" She pointed toward a long queue of children waiting to meet Santa Claus. Mr. Dominic laughed. "Looks like I've just been given another assignment." He looked toward Bianca. "I'll take her." Bianca nodded smoothly. "I'll wait right here."

Tiny Fae stretched her hands high, falling to reach the ledger she wanted, even standing on a stool. “Seems like you need help?” Santa asked, from the couch, his eyes lingering too long at her bubble size butt. He had Little Missy on his chest, sucking away on his titties and yet, he wanted Tiny Fae. Tiny Fae blushed hard as her pussy clenched. Santa’s deep voice was everything. He wasn’t the Santa with a big tummy and while his beard were as white as his hair, he was irrevocably handsome.

Up in Chloe's room, she was glued to her phone screen, her face lit by the glow of whatever rom-com she had queued up. The door was open, so I walked in without knocking. She didn't notice. "What rom-com are we watching?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. She pointed at the screen, grinning. "When Christmas Gets Romantic!" My breath caught. Of course. A movie about falling for someone you shouldn't. About crossing lines you can't uncross. Just like me and Silas. Except I wasn't some innocent heroine stumbling into love. I was the girl getting finger-fucked in a wine cellar by her best friend's father—and going back for more.

Snow hissed against the windows. He was already inside. Leaning against the marble island like he owned the place. This Santa is leaner than the first, all wiry muscle and long limbs, black satin half-mask, crimson velvet coat hanging open over bare, sculpted chest. A thin line of dark hair ran from his navel straight into low-slung black pants. A single red ribbon was tied around the base of his very obvious, very hard cock, the bow resting against his hip like a gift tag. He crooked a finger. “Come here, Noelle.”

The man yelped, tripping and dropping the bag, while Sebastian and Nyra charged. Sebastian grabbed him by the collar. “Explain yourself!” The man stammered, “I… I… thought… Christmas heist…” Nyra’s eyebrow arched. “You thought?” Noelle, meanwhile, began rearranging the ornaments from the bag. “You can’t steal from Snowtopia,” she scolded. “Santa’s watching!” Sebastian blinked. “…Santa is not watching.” “No!” Noelle said firmly. “I’m watching. And I say… freeze!”

Unlike Moxley, she tore the paper with care like she was going to save it for later. “Oooh,” she said with a surprised smile. “It’s Barbie the movie doll. I saw that movie three times. Oh, thank you, Santa.” She walked up to Santa and wrapped her little arms around his extremely fluffy beard. There was no way the girl could find his neck. Then she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Awe,” Lacey cooed as she walked over. Santa reached into his satchel and pulled out a small gift. He handed it to Lacey.