Laura’s Christmas
A dark Christmas tale — be careful what you wish for!
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This story is dark. Very dark. I can’t emphasize it enough.
I wrote this story when I was still part of the erotic writing community, which was first a lovely place, but over the years turned into a toxic place I left in 2020.
In that community, people shared their fantasies, and some of those fantasies were dark. In itself, there’s nothing wrong with dark fantasies, but living one can have unexpected consequences. You can prepare yourself for some consequences, but there are some that can’t be foreseen. That might affect you in a way you thought would never happen.
I won’t say more, but once again, I warn you: the story below is dark.
Proceed with caution!
Laura’s Christmas
TRIGGER WARNING: This story has violent scenes!
With a dramatic sigh, Laura planted her bottom on the bar stool and leaned her chin on her hands.
“Heavy day, girlie?” Jan, the bar owner, asked, while he put a wineglass in front of her, filling it with red wine.
“Thanks, Jan. I really need this,” said Laura, taking a sip, and only then she answered his question: “The day was okay, but man oh man, the Christmas dinner. Such a fuss every year.”
“Ah yes, the Christmas dinner with your colleagues!”
“Exactly! So boooooring!”
Laura pulled a face to emphasize her feelings about the dinner before she took another big gulp of her wine.
“What’s wrong with your colleagues?”
Laura turned around to find an attractive man behind her as the owner of the voice.
“Everything,” she answered, “and nothing. I just don’t like these compulsory hoo-ha’s with them.”
“Hoo-ha’s, right!” he laughed ambiguously. “Jan, may I have another beer, please?”
“What are you doing here so late, Mitch?” Jan asked while he poured a beer.
“You know me!” Mitch laughed, “I’m here for the hoo-ha’s!”
Laura blushed when she caught Mitch looking her up and down, from top to toe, especially when his eyes rested on her bottom longer. A lovely tingle took hold of her body and wet her crotch. She closed her legs, and to distract herself, she took another sip of her wine.
“So lady, you don’t like those compulsory hoo-ha’s then?” Mitch said when Jan turned away to tend to two new arrivals. His voice was just loud enough for Laura to hear. He was obviously flirting with her.
“Not with my colleagues, no,” she answered. Now she was the one who took him in from top to toe. An amused smile played around his mouth when her eyes returned to rest on his face. Keeping her gaze captive with his, he leaned closer, until his mouth was close to her ear.
“I have a weakness for women in leather skirts,” he whispered, “your ass,” and with these two words he put his hand on her derriere, “looks fabulous in it.”
“You should be curious to know what I’m wearing under the skirt.”
The words were out even before Laura could think about it. She wished she had never said them.
Again, he only spoke when his mouth was close to her ear.
“I dare you to show me?”
Laura took another sip of her wine. She didn’t look at him; didn’t answer him either. Words escaped her. Every fiber of her body screamed yes, but a tiny decency-angel sat on her shoulder and admonished her: No Laura, no!
