Christmas Short Stories Novels & Stories

One soft click. The picture came out tasteful but teasing, enough to make him grin. She smiled, selected Darren’s name, hit send. Then tossed her phone onto the bed and poured herself a glass of cheap red wine. Next week, she'd have her bags packed, ready to head to Maysville, the small town she'd grown up in for Christmas. Her holiday plan was just perfect! Her playlist hummed to life; jazzy, lazy Christmas tunes filling the air. For the first time all day, her shoulders relaxed. She even started humming along, thinking about what tomorrow morning would look like. Morning pancakes, bad movies, Darren’s laugh…

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄✨✨✨✨ ‎Nora’s POV ‎Mikhail’s Family Mansion – Christmas Eve, December 25. ‎The snow falls in fat, lazy flakes outside the massive windows of Mikhail’s family mansion, turning the rolling hills into a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Inside, it’s a whirlwind of warmth and chaos—the kind that makes you forget about the cold world outside. The grand foyer is decked out with a towering tree loaded with twinkling lights and ornaments that look like they belong in a museum, and the air smells like pine, cinnamon, and roasting turkey. I stir the mulled wine on the stove, watching the spices swirl in the deep red liquid, feeling a little out of place but mostly content. This is

Mom: “There's unfortunately too much work. I think I'll be home by midnight. Or in the morning. Take care baby, xoxo.” So I would be all alone in the house all night with… Nick? Oh my fucking goodness. I would actually be home alone with my dream man? Gulping at the thought that came into my head, I made my way to their bedroom and put on one of my mom's lingerie sets, surprised at how it actually fit perfectly. Just then, a car stopped outside the house and I glanced out the window to see Nick step out of the car, stumbling a bit. He was drunk.

“Because there's far more to this holiday, not to mention the Christians stole it from cultures far older. They twisted it and it became what you see today. The celebration of joy for a prosperous year, the slumber of gods as winter solstice begins, bonfires, decorating with holly, mistletoe, evergreen boughs, ritual sacrifices, feasts, and gift-giving have been replaced with debt, envy, and disparity, all hidden beneath fake smiles and disingenuous cheer.” She laughs, “Well shit! Merry fucking Christmas to you!” We both laughed. I extended my hand, “I'm Damon.” “Ana,” she replies as she takes my hand and shakes it. “I'm one of the creators.” She's interesting for a halfling. I wonder if she

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Jaxon said low and careful from his place at the door to the living room, his hand resting on the frame. His eyes were on me, like he was trying to gauge whether I meant it when I said everything was fine. I stood at the window, staring out as snow fell in languid flakes, casting a pale luminance over everything in sight. Christmas was looming, yet somehow, it didn't feel quite as festively joyful as it had other years.

I sucked all three cocks at once, licking and stroking them until they came on my face and tongue. I rode them one by one while the others sucked my nipples and rubbed my clit. I came until I was crying from pleasure. In the quiet moments between rounds we talked more. They opened up about their lives. Lucas told me how lonely success had made him before he found Julian and Victor. Julian spoke about losing his family young and building everything himself. Victor admitted he had never found a woman who could handle all three of them until me. I told them about my fears of never being enough. They listened and held me tighter.

He said he was going to kill me after fucking me. My mind grew lighter, my thoughts became hazier, and I almost didn’t notice the way his body shifted. Moving away from mine.He removed his hand and backed away.It took me a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t standing on top of me anymore. And then I felt his touch on the insides of my legs.“Tell me, puppy, why do you sleep naked?” His voice was gentle, and so was his touch.“Because it makes your sleep better.”A spank landed on my thigh.“And is good for your skin,” I continued.Spank hit the other one as well.“Now, puppy, tell me again.” He took a break. “But this time without lying.”I grinned. If he wasn’t a fucking killer, we would’ve gott

Saturday was forty-eight hours away. I had two days to pretend I wasn’t terrified. Two days to pretend I wasn’t about to walk into a cage with something that wasn’t human. Two days to pretend seventy thousand dollars was worth whatever was waiting for me. Saturday morning I spent playing with Noah on the living room floor. Building towers with his blocks. Kissing his chubby cheeks. Telling him stories about brave princesses who always came home. Liam watched from the kitchen table. “You’re leaving tonight,” he said. Not a question.

His little sister Carol was looking forward to seeing Santa Clause. Eddie went into the woods and cut a cedar tree for a Christmas Tree. Coral was excited Santa was coming soon. Eddie helped Coral decorate the tree. Paper was cut and Mama made glue out of flour and water. The paper was glued together to make interlocking rings. The strand of rings was placed around the Christmas Tree like garland. Eddie helped her cut paper and make snowflakes for the ornaments. It was a simple tree with no lights. In the eyes of Carol, it was the perfect Christmas Tree. Eddie went hunting on the Christmas Eve and killed a deer for Christmas Dinner. Carol cried because he teased her and said it was Rudolph t

Grandpa began the story by holding the book to show us the pictures. “The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds. While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.” Grandpa smiled as he tickled each of us as he read on. “And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.” Grandpa was a good storyteller. He made such funny faces, and his voice changed pitch as he read.