Kris Kringle Year Without Santa Claus Novels & Stories

Christmas always depresses me. The first Christmas after my mom died was hard. Joel and I made frozen pizza and watched games on television. No tree or decorations. My mom loved Christmas, and spoiled us no matter how old we were. Losing her in a car accident took the holiday spirit right out of us, and pizza and ball games became the norm. Joel and I kept up the “do nothing” tradition until two years ago, when Cami came into his life. I stayed in my room and let them have their holiday together, only coming down for the dinner Cami prepared. I ignored the minimal decorations that Cami insisted on, and went back up to my room as soon as I could. Last year, they invited me to their house, but

“To be honest, we never really did.” She frowned. “But the year I was there, you guys exchanged gifts.” “With you,” he pointed out. “Not with each other. Luke told us we’d better get you something since you intended to give each of us a gift. Luke wanted to pretend, for your sake, that we had the same type of normal Christmas everyone else did.” “You didn’t celebrate Christmas at all? Ever?” “We must’ve for a while when we were kids. I think Luke broke the news to Dalton that Santa wasn’t real when Dalton was around five. Dalton asked Dad if it was true and that was the end of presents on Christmas morning.”

He made fun of me as my cheeks burned from embarrassment. I sure hope I didn't pee on myself. The new Christmas song that was playing in the background now was "All I want for Christmas." by Mariah Carey. Santa Claus got on the bed again, teasing my clit with his slippery dick as he removed the soiled vibrator, stretching out his tongue to lick my release from it. "What do you want for this Christmas, girl?" He asked and I shut my eyes. "Your Cock, Santa Claus. Please ravish me hard." I pleaded as he continued to tease me down there, almost making me lose my mind.

We're fucked! "Why is Santa kissing mommy, and not daddy?" He puzzles. Merry-fucking-Christmas The Very End

“But our asses are freezing over here. It’d be really kind of you if you could move aside so we can enter.” “Shit! Sorry!” Ken pushed us all out of the way so the men could come inside with the giant Christmas tree. “But what are you guys doing with a Christmas tree?” I asked, confused as to why they were here instead of where they said they were supposed to be. “Well, since we’ve both known you for over five years, we knew that you can’t celebrate Christmas alone, and you probably won’t even have supplies to bake a cake,” Grace told me while Ken nodded her head in the background.

The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages. I stare at the screen for a long time without moving. This is not the first time they break their promise to me because of Giada. But this time, I do not argue or make a scene. I simply type and send one line calmly in the comments, "I wish your family of four a Merry Christmas." I finally let go of my obsession and stop waiting for people who will never come to me. But when I quietly step away, the ones who cannot let go turn out to be them.

On New Year’s Eve, Kian Newman never came home. Instead, he had someone deliver a container of frozen ravioli and sent me a single message: "Stay safe this year." I had barely locked the screen when a photo popped up in the company group chat. Isabel Wilkinson, Kian's assistant, had posted it. It was a lavish holiday dinner spread across the table, every dish clearly homemade. The caption read: "Someone spent all day cooking so I could have a taste of home. Love you."

𝟏𝟑 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 One of my fondest childhood memories during the Christmas season is the tradition of the elf. My parents used to tell me that Santa sent little helpers around the world to check if kids were being good or bad. If they behaved, the elf would leave a small gift, but if they were naughty, the elf would play tricks on them. These elves stayed in our house for almost all of December: during the day, they were lifeless dolls watching over us; at night, they came alive and acted. When I discovered none of it was true and it was my parents leaving the gifts or playing pranks, my heart broke. But I still remember the joy of those moments, which is why I played along when my pare

The grandparents had been angry why he will miss spending Christmas with his family only to be told that he wasn't even around during the Christmas time the year before and the one before it. They had lashed out at Veronica and Samuel for allowing him to miss spending Christmas celebration with his family for three consecutive years and they had defended themselves by saying that they asked him to come home but he refused to. Now Jason is around and in the midst of the grandparents, receiving lectures about the importance of spending Christmas time with family.

But to my surprise, when Gram had called me downstairs on Christmas morning-I always spent the night with them on Christmas Eve so that we could enjoy breakfast and gifts together the next day-I walked down the steps into the same holiday wonderland that had greeted me every December twenty-fifth of my life. "How did you do this?" I stood alongside the tree, my hands on my hips, staring at the beautifully wrapped presents. "What do you mean? I didn't do a thing." Gram pressed her hand to her chest. "This is all the work of old St. Nick. He came down the chimney while you were sleeping. Somehow, you must have bamboozled him into thinking you were a good boy this year, because look at all thes