Short Short Christmas Stories Novels & Stories

The taxi dropped me off just after three in the afternoon. The heat hit me like a wall the second I stepped onto the driveway—thick, humid summer air that made my thin sundress cling to my skin. Aunt Lisa’s house looked exactly the same as it had when I was a kid: big white two-story, wide porch, and that huge backyard I could already see stretching out behind it with the glittering blue rectangle of the pool. My first real holiday in forever. No exams, no part-time job, no cramped dorm room. Just three months of swimming, reading, and pretending the real world didn’t exist.

Their unspoken desires, like shimmering stars in the winter sky, danced in silent harmony, carrying the promise of reunion and the timeless enchantment of the season. As Asmo found himself amidst the vibrant tapestry of Christmas cheer, a whimsical thought took root in his mind, unfurling like a mischievous wisp of laughter in the midst of his introspection. Pondering the age-old enigma of Father Christmas, he found himself ensnared in a labyrinth of bemusement, his brow furrowed in mock solemnity as he contemplated the veracity of the jolly old figure who traversed the world in a single night.

The Story of Russell and Samantha: NOTE, THIS EPISODE IS TAKEN FROM 'NOT YOUR AVERAGE GEEK', A STORY BY THE SAME AUTHOR CURRENTLY LEFT ON-HOLD. ***** I woke up drenched in sweat. It's almost November, yet California weather is as always; unpredictable.

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.

as Gwen lowered down and began sucking on the juicy meat, kissing and caressing her stepmother's skin. These were the kinds of thoughts that kept him up at night. Furiously stroking away, that is. Imagining and dreaming... hoping and praying! Though knowing that never in a million years could his mother-daughter threesome experience ever come to fruition. It was the kind of thing left to outlandish p**n videos and subpar smut. The kind of unbelievable, entirely outrageous story lines where several sexy women just miraculously throw themselves at a young, horny man – as if his penis possessed some ungodly power that women found irresistible. No, not Harry... he knew better than to equate real

He said in excitement and Charles nodded in agreement beside him as he sat up. “There's this one lady at the strippers’ section. I heard she's a beast! Men literally fight to get her home with them. I want to try her tonight, she's so fucking sexy. You have to come, man, you're missing out on a lot because you're a damn workaholic,” Charles quipped, but I was uninterested as I watched them talk and talk about how much fun “they” were gonna have. Until someone knocked softly. The door pushed open to reveal Lena and she walked in with her usual innocent smile as she placed documents on my desk.

) then I decided to tell her a fantasy parable to clarify my point: °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° "Long ago, at the North pole dwelt the children's Favorite person, Santa Claus. Every Christmas he'd Sneak in the kid's room and leave there a gift according To how nice they'd been all year long.

Help. Hey everyone, I need help. Two days ago, my five-year-old sister said she saw Santa Claus in our house, but her description doesn't match the traditional image at all. She said this "Santa" had long, spider-like fingers, too many joints, crawled like a four-legged animal, and after climbing out of our chimney, it just stood silently in the corner of our living room, watching us for an hour. Most importantly, when I asked if this "Santa" had a gift sack, she said no. Just a lumpy, wrinkled, moving sack on its back.

Merry Christmas, dearest readers. I extend my heartfelt Christmas wishes to you. Thank you for your support, enthusiasm, and the time you dedicate to my work. Your encouragement always means more than words can fully express. May this festive season bring you joy, peace, and warmth, and may the new year unfold with hope and wonderful moments. Cheers to many more journeys together. Merry Christmas and best wishes. Ameerawrites

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.