Twelve Days in Christmas

***

In just two days, the town would hold the Christmas parade, a showy display of floats and music. While Christmas parades were a common thing, the town drew quite a crowd purely from its name. The influx of visitors would nearly double on this day alone, before it thinned in the days leading up to Christmas Eve. Christmas herself, along with the other girls taking part in the pageant, would find themselves on the floats in their dresses, a sort of preview before the pageant itself.

Other volunteers had been making headway on the floats over the last week, but the work never seemed to end. Christmas found Sasha and Leah already at work on one of the floats. Sasha was stapling a length of long tinsel down the edge of one float, which sat atop a flat trailer. Leah, meanwhile, stood on the top of the float, attaching glittering stars. To the side stood a display of nativity figurines that would be mounted on the top at the end.

"Look who decided to show up!" Sasha said, standing and popping her back.

"Sorry," Christmas apologized, "I overslept."

"You can help me layer this tinsel," Sasha said, handing her a staple gun and a length of tinsel.

Across the barn, Christmas saw Marcy and her friends working on a massive, glowing monument to holiday cheer. The gigantic float was built on top of a long trailer, likely provided by Mr. Gale for his little girl. They'd covered the huge thing in glittering red and green, streaked with gold and silver. Waiting to be mounted on top were three chairs, which Christmas could only have described as thrones. One of these, naturally, was far more elaborate than the other two.

Christmas could already guess who would be seated on that throne. She did not see one for Jason, though, and imagined him standing at the side of the three women, waiting to serve. Around the barn were two other floats for the other pageant girls, each of them equipped for three women.

"What are you performing for the pageant?" Sasha asked as they worked.

"Nothing special," Christmas answered.

"Dancing? Singing? You don't play an instrument."

"Chris doesn't have to dance or sing," Leah called down. "She just gets to wave and win."

"I wrote a poem," she said, "and I'm not some guaranteed win. You two need to stop that. You have a long line of admirers. It's your own fault for fixating on the ones you can't have."

"What's with your brother, anyway?" Sasha asked. "He's a super hunk, but he doesn't even show the slightest interest in anyone. Woman or man."

Christmas shrugged, fired a staple into the float, and said, "Discussing my brother's sex life isn't high on my list of priorities."

She felt a hot flush as she said it, remembering the feel of his tongue making her cum only a short time ago.

"I heard Kellen Miller asked you to the dance," Sasha said, "and that you turned him down."

"How did you hear that?" Christmas asked.

"He's been moping about it for a couple days," Sasha explained.

"I'm not ready to jump in and get involved with anyone, and that's what Kellen's after," Christmas said, then asked, "Who are you going with?"

"I'm going solo," Sasha said sadly. "If it's not Brad, then I'll just die alone. Woe is me," she lamented.

The words stung Christmas. It was not as though she could change her own feelings, or Brad's, nor Sasha's. It was just... hurtful, she guessed, to be something that stood in the way of her friend being happy.

"What about you?" Sasha called up to Leah.

"Kristine Marks," she said.

"Really?" Christmas said. "I thought she and Liz were a thing?"

"Not for, like, over a year. Us lesbos are a pretty small pool in Christmas, so I do not have a long line of admirers."

"What about Megan?" Christmas asked.

Leah shook her head. "Moved to New York. You know," she mused, "maybe we should just start a little femme commune. Since there's only five of us and we've all been with each other anyway, it wouldn't be too weird. Would it?"

"Everything you do is weird," Sasha said.

"Nothing weird about what this tongue can do," Leah said, grinning.

"I'll take your word for it," Sasha said, laughing.

"What about you, Chris? Wanna stretch your lesbian legs?" Leah joked.

"Sorry, honey. I like my lovers gruff, muscular, dark-haired and with different plumbing," Christmas said.

"Like Brad," Sasha sighed, wistfully.

How right you are, Christmas thought, hiding a blush.

***

With only a stop for lunch, the girls finished their float late in the afternoon. Once again, they met with Brad for dinner in town before the announcement of the Tree Festival winner. The streets were even more packed than the previous night, as were the shops and restaurants. They managed to get a table for the four of them at Lexington's, an upscale Italian place that had become a town favorite since Bruce Lexington and his wife had moved in a decade ago.

While they waited for their food, Christmas felt Brad's hand on her leg beneath the table. Sasha and Leah bantered about their guesses for the Tree Festival winner, but Christmas suddenly felt very hot. Brad's hand crept between her legs, boldly, and she parted them, giving him a glare but doing nothing to stop him. Quite the opposite. Her body seemed to want to encourage him to touch her dangerously.

His fingers pressed against her pussy through her jeans, and she felt a flush in her cheeks. Damn it! She'd been teasing them both for too long. He was getting impatient and in a risky way. She tried to ignore him and pretended to listen to Sasha and Leah, but the distraction of her brother rubbing her pussy in public wasn't making it easy. Finally, she had to stand and excuse herself.

"You okay?" Brad asked, a hint of a smile on his face. "You look a little flushed."

"I'm fine. Just a little warm."

She splashed cold water on her face in the restroom and took a minute to breathe. Damn him, she thought. It was wicked, and it was cruel, but she couldn't deny the flutter in her stomach at the risk. Too risky, though. Composed, she returned to the table. Brad did not attempt to tease her again.

After dinner, and with the sun going down, the four of them stood in Christmas Green. The town's massive tree was alight and beautiful, with carolers singing as people assembled for the results. Nearby, Christmas spotted Marcy, who was holding and stroking the cat in her arms. The animal was wearing a little sweater. Apparently, they'd gotten over their differences.

On his way to the tree, Mayor Tinsley, dressed in his Santa costume, stopped next to Christmas. She sighed, already knowing what was coming. It was time for him to trot out the mascot.

"Could father Christmas convince you to read the results?" he asked, grinning.

"How could I refuse?" she asked sarcastically.

Tinsley took her hand in his mitten, and they walked to the front of the crowd, who clapped for her and whistled. Marcy did not.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Tinsley laughed, "Merry Christmas!"

The crowd made the customary reply.

"The Tree Festival," he said, "has its roots in the town's founding," he paused to allow for the obligatory chuckle at the pun, "This year, I am pleased to announce that we've received a record donation of $9,800!"

The crowd clapped again, and Christmas joined them.

"For over one hundred years, the town of Christmas has celebrated the holiday with a festival of light. We're blessed to be a town of tradition, and to have neighbors that love it almost as much as the people who live here. Every entrant has put love and care into their tree, adding their unique light to that of the others. To announce the winning entry, we have our own town's namesake, Christmas Carol!"

Christmas gave the crowd a wave and received a further round of applause. How quickly, she wondered, would those claps turn to jeers, had they only known the truth? She dismissed the thought and held up the envelope containing the entry. Tinsley unclipped his microphone and clipped it to her coat.

"The winner of this year's Tree Festival is..." she paused and opened the envelope, read it, and announced excitedly, "Marcy Gale!"

The assembled crowd applauded, and Marcy turned to wave, holding the cat in one arm. Christmas handed the microphone back to the mayor.

"Thank you, Christmas," he said, "and congratulations Marcy! If you'll join your tree, we'll have it recorded for the Hall of Records. As long as Christmas stands, your effort will light the holidays."

More like Jason's effort, Christmas thought, but did not voice it. Instead, she slunk away to rejoin Brad and the girls.

"Well done," Brad said.

"Inspiring," Sasha remarked.

"Brought a tear to my eye," Leah added.

"Oh, be quiet," Christmas said.

Together, they watched Marcy depart to have her photo taken with the tree.

***

Christmas came to bed naked, watching Brad's eyes watch her as she slid beneath the covers. She yawned and spooned into him, wiggling her ass against his cock teasingly.

"Good night," she said and shut her eyes.

A moment later, the light clicked off and Brad's hand went around her. A second later, the hand was roaming across her skin.

"You were very naughty tonight," she said into the dark.

He chuckled and continued roaming until he found one of her breasts and cupped it.

"That was dangerous," she said. "We can't do that."

"Sometimes it's hard to help myself," he said into her ear, kissing her neck.

"I can forgive you, because you're sweet," she said and turned over to kiss him.

The remembered feeling of his fingers pressing into her sex so brazenly in the restaurant had kept her hot all evening. She took his hand from her hip and moved it to her pussy, parting her legs for him, encouraging him to touch it. His fingers caressed her folds, found them wet and warm. The sensation made him growl into her mouth as he rubbed her slit.

Christmas purred happily and ran her fingers into his hair. His touch was skillful and soft, drawing forth her arousal and making her push her pussy against his fingers. Her slick honey coated them, made it easy for him to push them into her. She squeaked pleasantly at their entry and arched her back. Releasing his mouth, she lay back and let him play with her.

Brad's mouth found her breast and his tongue flicked one of her nipples lightly, then beat a rhythm on it that made her tingle. Occasionally, he'd suck it into his mouth, while his fingers sawed into her sex, pushing upwards and against her spot, making her buck with the sensation. Then, he'd pull them back out and rub her clit while he continued to toy with her breast.

"Yes..." she moaned quietly, as his fingers pushed back into her, filling her up, opening her to his touch.

Brad worked them easily in and out of her now, the friction building her up. His hand rubbed firmly against her clit as he moved them in and out of her faster, harder, all the while keeping time on her nipple. Her breath came in soft gasps, punctuated with delirious giggles as the pleasure intensified, until it was a wave of ardent desire that she couldn't fight.

Her hand released the grip on the sheet and found his cock, held it, stroked it, and then gripped it as she came. He kissed her again, hard, as if sucking the pleasure out of her as her body jerked, all the while keeping that pleasurable stroke up on her pussy. Damn him for being so good at it, she thought. How was she going to hold out for four more nights of this?

***

December 20th: Christmas Olympics

Brad and Christmas arrived at the carefully laid out Christmas Olympic Grounds just outside of town, early in the morning. The silly competition benefited both the locals and the visitors. For the locals, the prizes were purely for esteem. The town's standings and records went back just over fifty years, cataloging the winners of such events as sledding, ski races, ice skating races, snowman building contests, and other silly sports. For the visitors, they gave prizes out as gift certificates for local businesses, an encouragement to spend further dollars in the local economy.

Christmas signed herself up for a sled race and ice skating race, then accepted hot chocolate from Harry Linkman, who had set up a table with snacks and hot drinks. The first round of racers trudged up the steep slope of Mount Christmas, little more than a high hill, but the largest one around town. Taking up her saucer sled, she paired off against one of Marcy's cohorts, Julia, for the first race. They settled in at the starting line. At the bottom of the hill, she could see Brad and Mayor Tinsley, stopwatches in hand.

Tommy Miller, the youngest of the Miller boys and her roadside savior, stood ready to count down. The Mayor waved a red flag, showing readiness. Christmas pulled her scarf tight over her face and cinched down her hat, then placed her gloved hands in the snow. Tommy counted down from five and then blew on his whistle. The racers shoved off, rocketing down the slope with a whoop. Legs first, Christmas leaned back, and the sled picked up speed. The meltwater was perfect today, and the lubricated bottom of the saucer slid easily over it, bouncing over the bumps as she held the straps.

Julia's sled did a spin as it leapt over a large mound of tightly packed snow, but she recovered, and they were nearly even a second later. Christmas leaned further, but misjudged just how far. The sled hit another large bump, and she shrieked as it flipped backward, sending her rolling a few feet down the hill as the saucer sped away, riderless. She heard Julia cackle at her misfortune. A series of groans reached her from top and bottom, then a chorus of cheers as she got to her feet and waved.

A further round of cheers accompanied Julia's crossing of the finish line. Marcy, Jason, and Carry surrounded her, all of them congratulating her on the win. Christmas trudged down the rest of the hill, retrieved the sled, and then made her way over. Grudgingly, she put out her hand.

"Nice finish," she said.

Julia looked at her hand, then took it, but said nothing. Honor satisfied, Christmas trudged back to stand with the rest of the observers. Sasha handed her cocoa.

"You're not going down?" Christmas asked.

"I'm up at the end."

Christmas walked away and, for a while, watched the children building snowmen, then caught the second round of ice skaters, then returned to the sleds. Leah had won the second round. The competition dwindled down until Julia ended with the prize, beating out Marcy and cementing her place in the town's rankings for the year.

Just after snacks for lunch, Christmas faced off against Marcy in an ice skating race across the lake. This heat would put one of them in the semi-finals. They shook hands at the starting bank and waited. The whistle blew, and the two of them pushed off. Knees bent and leaning forward, Christmas stroked across the frozen lake. She already knew, from previous years, that Marcy's victory was practically assured. While a competent skater herself, she'd never had the knack for it that Marcy had.

Marcy quickly took a lead on her, then pulled ahead. She stroked and Marcy swizzled, just for show, casting a quick glance back at her and smirking beneath her helmet. Christmas cringed and pushed harder, gaining, but still behind.

Overcome with her superiority, Marcy then made a flourish that Christmas knew was potentially disastrous from the moment she saw it coming. Marcy should have known better, but she was feeling arrogant and untouchable.

"Don't!" she shouted, but Marcy had already done it.

She did a Salchow, taking off from the back inside edge of one skate, intending to land on the back outside edge of the other. It was showy, and it was stupid. It was Marcy. Marcy completed the jump perfectly, and if this had been a figure skating competition, she'd have earned some marks. The landing, though, resulted in a loud crack that made Christmas skid to a stop. Marcy shrieked, and then Marcy was gone.

Christmas had only time to blink as the girl went through the ice. She heard shouts and cries from either bank. Quickly, she sat, tugged at her laces, and tossed the skates. She crawled on her belly toward the hole that Marcy had vanished through.

"Chris!" she heard Brad, Sasha, and Leah all shouting.

She approached the hole, her heart hammering, looked about quickly, then sucked in a breath. You didn't live in a winter town and not get lessons in what to do when you fell through ice, but it hadn't happened as long as she'd been alive. Still, the old lessons came back, the same lessons that Marcy should have known. She only hoped that Marcy had remembered the ones about cold shock better than the one about not jumping on an icy lake while wearing heavy skates.

Bracing herself for the shock, she went through the hole. The frozen water was an immediate and paralyzing thing, her body telling her to breathe rapidly as her blood pressure and adrenaline surged. She fought the reaction with a mental effort, looked up to where the sunlight fell through the hole in the ice. Marcy, to her credit, hadn't panicked as badly as Christmas thought. She was kicking her way up, but the skates were making it difficult, nearly impossible. Getting them off, though, was equally impossible.

Christmas gauged that about a minute had passed since she went under, meaning the cold shock was just beginning to wear off. Still, there wasn't much time. Just a small drop in body temperature and they were in real danger. She kicked down, reached for Marcy, and grabbed her hand, yanking her up. Together, they kicked toward the surface until they reached it. Submerged, she pushed Marcy upward, her muscles wanting to seize up. Marcy scrabbled up and over the ice, rolling away, shaking.

Christmas broke the surface and gasped, clawed at the ice, and then Marcy was helping to drag her over. Marcy's entire body trembled. Christmas, not much better off, pushed her away from the hole until she felt confident that they were out of danger from falling back through. She gathered the other girl up, hauled her to her feet, and dragged her toward the bank, where paramedics were already making their own way out onto the ice.

Two of them each took one girl and threw blankets around them, hurrying them toward an ambulance to get them out of their clothes and start warming them up. Brad and her friends were jabbering, but it was just noise. Goddamn it but she'd never felt so cold. A moment later, she was in an ambulance and they were both being stripped of their clothes. The vehicle began to move, sirens blaring, speeding away.

***

Christmas thought that just about anything, even being in a frozen lake, was preferable to laying in a bed, silently, next to Marcy. The upside, and it was a big upside, was that she was finally, blessedly warm. Having successfully staved off hypothermia, she was now sharing a room with Marcy, whose teeth were still chattering from reflex. It was the only sound in the room and had been for several minutes now that the nurses were gone.

"Chris," Marcy finally said.

"Did you actually just use my name?" Christmas asked.

"I... know I can be kind of a bitch," Marcy said quietly.

"I didn't say it," Christmas replied.

"Just... thanks," Marcy said.

"Well, I couldn't exactly claim victory by default," Christmas said. "You're welcome."

"They'll probably pin a fucking medal on you for this," Marcy said bitterly.

Christmas fumed, then snapped.

"What the fuck is your deal, anyway?" she spat.

"Like I said, I can be kind of a bitch. You're just... everyone loves you," Marcy said. "They love you because of your name, and because you're----" she stopped, shut her mouth.

"I'm what? The poor little orphan girl? I don't have money and they still like me?" Christmas asked.

Marcy stayed quiet.

"You know," Christmas said, "I did not ask to be named fucking Christmas Carol. What a stupid name. Especially in a town obsessed with Christmas. No one asked my opinion about being some informal town mascot, just because of a dumb name. Yeah, I get treated special because of it, but do you ever see me trying to get recognition for it? I avoid it. Whatever your jealousy or... I don't know what it is. It's not because of me. That's all you, honey."