The Miracle of Christmas

The Miracle of Christmas

Status: In Progress

Genre: Science Fiction


Status: In Progress

Genre: Science Fiction


Submitted: May 06, 2016

A A A | A A A


Submitted: May 06, 2016



The Miracle of Christmas

Another sleepless night, another Christmas fraught with worry. There wouldn't be many packages to open for the kids this year. I've been telling them that Christmas is too commercial and we are starting a new tradition of just one present per person. The reality is that we can't afford even one. They had watched the polar express for the umpteenth time, and I was tired of hearing that simpleton message: “You just need to believe.” Belief is a luxury for children and morons.

It was almost midnight and I was still sitting in the office trying to decide which bills to pay and which to partial pay. Since Dave was laid off, the unemployment checks were just not enough.

If my Mom can watch the kids, I'll start cleaning houses the first of the year to help out, I thought to myself. Desperate times mean desperate measures. I've never had to work before because Dave brought in more than we needed. Plus, I was still paying for a college education I have never used. This was the worst time of year to go out looking for work. 

After several hours of this exercise in futility, I wanted something to dull the pain, but we didn’t have any alcohol in our house. I hadn’t been to a liquor store or bar since I was in college five years ago.

These bills can wait, I thought, clicking off the desk lamp. I was going to go for a walk to the convenience store to buy some wine. Sometimes life could be so hard and merciless. 

Dave was sound asleep while I quietly searched through my sweaters. After slipping on my heavy hooded jacket over my turtle neck, I found my insulated stretch pants with footies. Dave stirred. There was no need to do my hair or makeup as I was going out for just a short walk. I reached for the silly stocking cap with the snowflakes that I got from the kids last year. 

“Ummm… What are you doing?” Dave whispered in the darkness. 

"I can't sleep. I'm just going for a walk to clear my head.”

“Come to bed, sweetheart. It's after midnight and freezing out there,” he replied, reaching out to me and taking my wrist.

“I'll be right back. Don't fret, I'll be fine,” I said softly as I pulled my hand away and tied the fur lined boots snugly. 


The cold night hit me like a million icy fingers as the frozen air filled my lungs. I exhaled puffs of little clouds. Tightening my parka hood, I trudged ahead with crunchy footsteps through the snow packed sidewalk. My cheeks stung as if I was slapped by Jack Frost himself.

The convenience store was just at the end of the block, but it seemed like miles away as the wind howled its winter song and gusts swirled snowflakes around me. The low-lit sign flickered in the wind while I approached the entrance. Reaching out my mittened hand, I twisted the knob. It was locked. I wiped the frosty glass with my scarf and peered inside. No one was in there. Then, I saw a sign obscured by snow. It simply said: Closed. I felt foolish for believing anyone would be open on Christmas Eve. 

As I turned to head home, I noticed a neon sign flashing from the motel lounge—diagonally across the street. It was funny that I had never noticed that motel before. All the funds I had with me was just enough to buy a cheap bottle of wine.

Even one drink at a bar might be better than none, I thought to myself.

I pushed open the spring loaded entrance door. The place was empty, except for the bartender and an older gentleman in a grey trench coat, sitting at the end of the bar. It was a typical barroom that was sporadically decorated with Christmas lights and a fake tree in the corner. The jukebox was belting out Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” I stomped my boots to knock off the snow. 

"Come on in out of that cold,” said the bartender, wiping the counter. “What are you doing out on a night like this?”

“To tell you the truth, I really could use a drink. What can I get for…”—I reached in my pocket and pulled out some waded bills—“… Six dollars and forty three cents?”

“Put your money away. Drinks are on the house tonight!” He replied with a smile. “After all, it's Christmas Eve! What would you like?”

“I really haven't thought that far ahead,” I said. “Something strong, I suppose.” I peeled off my parka and hung it on the coat rack along with my stocking hat. Before I climbed on the stool, I freed my hair and shook it loosely.

“May I suggest a Strawberry Daiquiri?” The older gentleman spoke. “You look the Daiquiri type.”

“Why, thank you. I've never tried one before—sounds good.” 

“One Strawberry Daiquiri coming up!” The bartender said as he scooped some crushed ice… Into the blender it went.

“What's your story, young lady? Are you in town on business?” The older man asked, moving a stool away. “I hope you don't mind…” he raised his voice. “But shouting at you across the bar seemed silly.”

“No, that is fine. I’m not here on business. I live down the street. I just needed a drink.” I didn't have a clue why I was talking to a stranger. It seemed my life was in a vice being squeezed from all sides and I was ready to pop. 

"By the way, my name is Chris. Chris Ward,” he said, extending his hand.

I shook his hand demurely and replied, “Hello, I'm Carley—Carley Thompson.” 

“I hope I'm not prying, but I couldn't help but notice the wedding ring,” said Chris before he motioned to the bartender for a refill. 

“It’s okay. Yeah, I'm married and have two kids: Justin two, David four—and of course there’s my husband Dave.” I pulled out my wallet and displayed our family photos. 

“Lovely family.” Chris twisted the pictures to view them. “Can I ask yet another question?”

“I suppose. What is it?” I replied, feeling vulnerable.

“With such a lovely family, why is a pretty young woman such as you sitting in a bar on Christmas Eve, talking to a lonely old man the likes of me?” 

That question took me a bit by surprise. It was several moments before I answered. “I don't really know. I guess for a lot of reasons. Things have been tough since my husband lost his job.” 

“How so?”

I sipped the last of my drink and pushed it out for another. It was certainly stronger than I was used to, and I was starting to relax. 

“Well…” I paused and continued looking down at the bar. “My husband, Dave, got laid off three months ago as a result of a company merger. He has desperately been looking for work and has found none so far. To make things worse, what little cash we had saved was eaten up in medical bills. Sorry, I'm sure you don't want to hear about my problems on Christmas Eve.” 

“No need to apologize, Carley. We've all been where you are. I am not much on giving advice, and I am sure it is not much comfort for me to say things will get better… But I can guarantee they will.” 

“That is nice of you to say, Chris. I'm just at my wits end. I see no solution. Tell me about yourself. Why are you here by yourself on a special night like this?”

“It's a very long story.” 

“I've got time. I'm listening.” 

“Well,” he began. “I'm sitting here with you instead of my darling wife Gina because she died several years ago. This motel is where we spent our Christmas Eve honeymoon forty five years ago. I come here each Christmas to recapture my memories.” 

“That is so sad.” I frowned. “I'm so sorry for your loss.” 

“I keep coming back because there is real magic in this place.” 

“I certainly could use some magic in my life,” I sighed.

Chris looked me in the eyes and laid his hand over mine. “My dear, you're here, and I'm here. Maybe we can help each other out.”

I jerked my hand away and replied forcefully, “What are you saying? I'm not a prostitute!”

“No, no, that is not what I'm suggesting at all. I told you that this place is magical; a place where wishes can come true. You just need to believe. If you take my hands, close your eyes tight and make a wish, your wish will come true.”

This was nuts. An old fart in an antiquated old bar was asking me to take a leap of faith and believe in magic?

Oh, what the hell. It is almost Christmas…

I had nothing to lose, so I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of better days when Dave was employed and we were not constantly fighting over money. Chris took my hands in his while I continued to wish.  

At first, nothing happened. But then my head started to spin like I’d had way too much to drink. I opened my eyes a crack, and the room was a blur, as if I was a kid going too fast on a merry-go-round. With each revolution, the room was changing. Then, it started to slow and the colors looked like those in an old fashioned kaleidoscope. 

My vision was clearing and I found myself holding a pair of hands and looking into the deep blue eyes of a handsome young man. The bar was exquisitely decorated and filled with people. I was confused. Nothing made sense. The man seemed familiar. I had these overwhelming feelings of… love? I didn't know him, yet... it seemed as if I did.  

“Time for the bride and groom dance!” a loudspeaker blared. 

He pulled me by the hands.

Wait a minute… I’m dressed in a wedding gown!

I had no power to say no, much less to stop. Besides, I didn’t dance… But apparently I did. We spun and moved in unison like two trained professionals. He dipped me and I whispered, “I love you, husband.”

What am I saying?

He looked at me with a look every woman wished their man would give them.

Everyone was clapping as our dance ended and I curtsied my appreciation. On the way back to our seats, I glanced at the sign above the bar. It said: “Merry Christmas, Ward Wedding 1975.”

Oh my God! What kind of magic is this?

I was feeling and experiencing everything, but my memories were blending with hers. I had become Gina Black—or now… Gina Ward. I was twenty-two years old and had known Chris since we were children. 

“I want to toast my daughter and her new husband,” my father announced.

No! He’s not my father! He’s Gina’s! I scolded myself.

Everyone raised their glasses.

“May they live a long and prosperous life and bear me many grandchildren.” 

“I'll second that,” Chris chuckled, squeezing my butt.

Breathe, Carley. You’re in control. Or was I? I wasn't sure any more. I just knew I needed to get away and figure this craziness out. 

“Sweetheart,” I said to Chris. “I need to go to the ladies room. I'll be right back.”

“Sure, Hun.” He grinned. “You need some help?”

“I think I can manage.”

I headed toward the restrooms sign to the right of the bar. I shut the door and peered in the long mirror over the wash basins.

I’m beautiful, I thought, staring at myself, or—Gina. My strawberry blonde hair flowed down over my shoulders. I was thin with the kind of shape I had been yearning for since I had joined that friggin’ gym. My breasts seemed full as I slid my hands up. However, I knew it was really the push-up. 
"I can't believe this is happening!” I blurted out. 

I can't either! Another voice involuntarily replied.

“You can hear me?” I exclaimed.

Yes, before you even speak.

“I have your memories. I know every about you. Your past, your dreams… your fears. I remember the skiing accident when you broke your leg; the sadness you felt when Fluffy died; your love for Chris since you were five. I know… Everything!” 

I can say the same about you, Carley. I know the present and the sadness you carry for your circumstances. I remember childbirth. The incredible pain mixed with euphoric joy while holding your son for the first time. I remember college. Hmmm… you were a very bad girl, Gina chuckled. 

Just then, a toilet flushed. A black woman in a waitress outfit approached the sinks. She stared at me while washing her hands. I flushed with embarrassment at the thought she heard me talking to myself. 

“It's none of my business, honey, but I think you got way too much alcohol in your system. I suggest your next drink be some coffee,” she said before scurrying out of the restroom. 

"Gina, we need to talk to Chris. He's the only one that might understand what has happened. I'm scared that I will never get back to my family. After all, this is 1975 and I wasn’t even born yet! This whole thing twists any sense of reality... Heck, Einstein’s mind would be blown!”

I agree. Let’s go talk to Chris, Gina replied as she took control over my motor movements and adjusted my top before walking out the door.




Chris was laughing with a group of his old high school football buddies when I—we returned to the celebration. It was getting late and people were trickling out, one or two at a time. The band had left and the jukebox was playing an oldie (well, an oldie for me. Chris saw me approaching and lifted me off the ground. He whirled me around and planted a big kiss on my lips.

“I love you so much,” he said. “It seems we have waited most our lives for this night.”

"Chris, I need to talk to you.”

“Go ahead, I don't have any secrets from my friends.”

Please, I need to speak to you... privately.” Gina insisted, pulling the sleeve of his tux with a sense of immediacy.

She led him to the waiting lounge and commenced the whole story, sparing no details. He listened intently. I tried my best to describe this dual possession, explaining that I was from forty years in the future. I went through the story of meeting him at that “magical bar,” and how I was transported back in time. There must have been a reason all of this had occurred.

After an extended time of silence, I impatiently said, “Well, say something!”

A big grin covered his face as he replied, “So, if I get this right, I'll be making love with not just you, but this Carley chick from the future? Hmm, this is hot!”

“I'm serious. It is all true, believe me!” I sounded desperate. I wanted to get home to my family.

“Come on, we need to get back to our guests. I never knew you were so funny.” He laughed.



After the last guest left, Chris whisked me up in his arms and carried me to the room. I could feel his strength by the ease of how he held me. My mind was flooded with what was to come. It was a very long time since Dave had felt that urgency to make love.

Stop it! This is my guy not yours! Gina interrupted my thoughts.

Chris kicked open the door and completed the task of carrying me over the threshold. After he dropped me on the bed, he started pulling at my dress.

At this rate it will be over before it starts, I thought.

I realized that Gina was a virgin, and I was pretty sure Chris was also. My plan was that I was going to remain dormant and let Gina have her experience, but when I saw him fumbling around, I knew this was a disaster in the making, so I took control. I put my hands on Chris’s chest and pushed him off. I sensed Gina was as resistant as he was to not continue.

“What are you doing?” Chris asked, startled like a little boy whose toy was taken.

“Chris, I need to go to the restroom and take care of a few things first. You've waited years for this, you can wait another half hour. I'm not going to have you rip this gown. It cost a bunch.”

“Come on…” He whined. “I thought my mom gave you her wedding dress?”

“Well, that just makes it more special.” I slipped off the bed and kicked my heels off as I went into bathroom. I paused at the door and said, “Unzip me.”

Chris was there in an instant, mishandling the catch over the zipper.

Yep, he's a virgin, I thought silently.

What are you doing? Gina asked.

Well, doll, I'm saving your wedding night, I answered telepathically, as I closed and locked the bathroom door. Now, let's get this gown off and see what we are working with. I stepped out of the dress and hung it on the hanger before I turned to the mirror. Hmmm, you got it goin’ girl… Are you blushing?

No one has ever said that about me before, said Gina.

I realized the longer this went, the more control I had. Then, I unclasped the Demi bra. Gina was nice youthful B cup. I hooked my thumbs in the panties and slid them off and took inventory.

My, my, my, this will never do!

What's the matter? Gina panicked.

This bush! I said, pulling at the kinky pubes.

But every woman has pubic hair…

I don’t need an anatomy lesson, Gina. I know you didn't bring a razor. Is that Chris’s travel bag over there?

You can't be serious. I'm not going to do that! I’ll look like a little girl… or a whore!

Trust me, sweetie. You'll thank me later. I unzipped the travel bag and found a new safety razor. I took it along with the old spice shaving cream. Then I sat on the edge of the tub and spread my legs. I couldn't resist myself as I slipped a finger between my labia and tickled that little pleasure button that was filled with a billion nerves.

What the fuck are you doing? Gina gasped.  

Sorry, Hun. I couldn't resist. It has been a long time since I felt something so fresh and… virginal. After several men and two children, this is nothing but awkward memory for me. I want your first time to be spectacular. If you follow my directions, this will be the experience of your life. Now, let's get this ‘fur’ off.

Standing in front of the mirror, I took in the beauty before me. I was sharing the body of the sexiest woman that ever walked this earth. Her perfect physique was natural—right down to her tight skin and firm butt. This was not fair. I had spent hours at the gym trying to achieve this. I reached up and pinched Gina’s nipples, rolling them between my forefinger and thumb; little shivers tingled throughout.

Ohhhh!” she moaned. I sensed she was as excited as I was for this.

"What are you doing in there?" Chris called out, rapping on the door.

"Calm down, stud. I'll be right out.”

Calm down, stud? I don't talk like that! Gina scolded.

I took her perfume and sprayed a dash on her now bare womanhood and on each side of her neck.

There, I said. Now you don't smell of aftershave. Now, let's look at those nightgowns.

Why? It will be off soon.

Would you ever consider giving the most important Christmas gift of your life unwrapped?

No. I see. I never thought…

I love this little purple baby doll… Very sexy number, I said, tying it with just one satin tie. One more thing... I want you to take that massage oil you got as a wedding gift and coat yourself inside as best you can. It will make it easier.

Will it hurt? Gina asked nervously.

Just a moment, but then never again.

She coated her finger with oil and gently lubricated her opening.




The lights were out, except for a candle on the dresser. Chris looked amazing. The flickering light accentuated his well-defined body. He was… soooo sexy.

“Oh my God! You're beautiful!” He gasped.

I spun like a model.

“Come here! I've waited my whole life for this moment,” he said, as he slid off the bed and stood in front of me. He pulled me to him tightly and kissed me roughly.

“Slow down, big boy! It's not a race.” I giggled. Since I could feel all of Gina’s physical and emotional sensations, I knew her urge was strong to get the lovemaking going, but there was much to teach here.

“Open your present,” I said to Chris.

He pulled off the baby-doll without ever bothering to untie it. His Pajamas were tented by his firm manhood wanting to burst free.

I reached out and untied his drawstring, freeing his steel hard manhood. In seconds, I knelt down in front of him. His swollen member was inches away from my mouth. I could feel Gina’s apprehension.

Trust me, I whispered in Gina’s mind.

Next, I gripped Chris’s uncircumcised member, lightly stroking it. He moaned in pleasure. I touched my tongue to the tip and tasted his pre-cum.

Ohhh!” He gasped.

I engulfed the head of his cock and it expanded in my mouth. Then, I moved my head forward so it pressed at the back of my throat. Gina wanted to gag, but I suppressed the reflex. Slowly, I pushed in further and consumed his entire member as it violently throbbed in my mouth.

“Ahhhh, that's incredible. Where did you learn that?”

I involuntarily pulled back and replied, “I didn't learn it. It’s her.”

“Her?” Chris looked confused. “Who?”

“I told you already! It’s not me, it's Carley! She is doing all of this! She even made me shave my pussy!”

That frown quickly disappeared from Chris’s face as he began to chuckle. “Oh, I remember now… Your imaginary friend. Well, tell her to continue. I love it.” He winked.

I was miffed. I wanted this to be a secret, but now that Gina had spilled the beans, I was going to fuck this boy’s brains out.

Gina resisted me as I took complete control. I knew no matter what, he was not going to last, so I decided to get him off. He would recover quickly. He was young, after all. I sucked him with my greatest expertise, and Chris responded by dumping a load that would clog a drain. I swallowed his offering eagerly, while remaining spurts of cum trickled down my chin.

“Holy shit!” He panted. “That was unbelievable!”

I climbed on the bed while Chris pulled off his PJ’s. This was his first view of her womanhood.

“My turn now. Get over here and kiss me,” I beckoned him.

He crawled on the bed and practically jumped on me as he kissed my lips and tasted his own cum in my mouth.

“Slow down, big boy,” I said when he roughly gripped my breast. “Be gentle. Kiss my nipples softly. That's it… Now gently nibble on them. Ow! I said, softly. That's it… Now, swirl your tongue in little circles… Perfect! Use your finger to part my pussy lips… Ever so softly like it might break. Ohhhh, yeeesss… that's it. Now, feel that little hard piece of skin? Pretend your finger is a feather… Tickle it.”

I could feel Gina shuddering in pleasure. She was experiencing an orgasm. Her body went ridged. Chris was starting to recover, but his task still had to wait. There was more to be done.

"Chris, I'm going to ask you to do something new.”

“Anything.” He panted.

“Do you like my bare pussy?”

“Oh, yes. It's beautiful.”

“Good, I want you to kiss it.”

“You mean like you did for me?”

“Kind of—but different. I want you to run your tongue the length of my slit… Ohhh, perfect. Now use the tip of your tongue to tickle that little button... Hmmmm, a little higher. Yes! That's it. Tweak it side to side and insert your finger in my wetness. Oh, yes! That's it, don't stop!”

“Oh my God, Chris. That is wonderful!” Gina moaned and stiffened up, rocked by her second orgasm.

"Now it is time to claim your prize, stud.” I pulled my knees up and Chris followed his natural inclination. He positioned himself between my legs.

 “Just remember,” I said, “this is new territory. Wipe the head in the natural lubricant. When you enter, do it slowly but steadily. When you're in, rest and allow her to recover. Then just do what comes naturally.”

My job was done as I drifted into the background. Chris was special. I could see why she loved him so. He performed perfectly and they took what they learned and explored the rest of the night. I was still bothered by what I was brought here for. It must have been for more than just coaching them through their wedding night.

I also discovered that when Gina slept… I didn't.


It was about four in the morning when I smelled smoke. Chris and Gina were both asleep, and I couldn't wake Gina up. I could move my arms and legs, but I didn’t think I could walk with her asleep. I raised and lowered her arm and managed to scream loud enough to wake Chris. The room was filling with fumes. He picked us up but couldn't carry us; he was depleted by the fumes. Chris dragged us out of the room and down the hallway. I could feel the heat. Finally, he managed to get us out the front door into the cold snow. As soon as we cleared the porch of the motel, I felt myself being torn from Gina’s body as if I was tossed down a hole.




“Wake up, Carley. Wake up… You must have fallen asleep working on the bills.” Dave shook my shoulder.

I looked around me. I was back at my desk.

It was all a weird dream… A weird twisted dream.

I immediately went to the window and looked down the street. Sure enough, there was no motel. It was a little hardware store. But the dream had felt so real.

"Come on downstairs, sweetheart, I made breakfast, and the kids want to open their presents.”

We had a pleasant Christmas. But I couldn't shake that dream.

Just past noon there was a knocking at the door. Dave answered it.

“Carley, there is a lady that would like to talk with you.”

I walked to the door, feeling puzzled by who was visiting on Christmas Day, when suddenly, I froze in place. Standing in front of me was an older version of Gina. Much, much older. I was speechless.

“Carley?” she said in a raspy voice. “

“Yes, it is me.” I was a bit shocked.

“Can we please take a walk?”

I grabbed my coat off the rack and told Dave I'd be right back.

“Is it really you?” I gasped.

“Yes, it's really me, dear… Forty years later. There is so much that has happened and there is so much to share. What happened to me forty years ago, happened to you about twelve hours ago. I want you to know you saved thirty people that night including Chris and myself.”

“No way. I walked into that motel last night at midnight, and it's not there today.”

“Carley, I've been trying to figure this out for forty years. Chris and I wanted to contact you sooner, but we knew that we couldn't do anything to disturb the timeline until today, or you might not have gone to the motel on that fateful night.”

“No one would believe me if I told them,” I replied.

“That is precisely why I didn't tell your husband. I want you to know I've been watching you since you were born. Watching you grow into the wonderful woman you are today.”

“Where is Chris?”

“Sadly he died four years ago from cancer.”

“I'm so sorry.” I frowned. “He was a wonderful man.”

“Yes, he was, and a wonderful lover—thanks to you.” She grinned with a still beautiful smile. “Carley, I have something for you.” She handed me an envelope.

I tore it open. It was a beautiful embossed Christmas card with a sweet greeting. I hugged Gina and said, “Thank you!”

“Open it again. There is a gift for you inside.”

I opened the card again and noticed there was a string of numbers and letters. “What's this?” I asked in confusion.

“You might want to sit here on this bench.” She wiped off some snow and we sat. “These numbers represent a bank account in your name. Because I had your memories as you did mine, I knew what the future would bring, and I invested accordingly. Chris and I became rich—very, very rich. We placed half of our earned assets in that account.”

I was dumbfounded and all I could ask was, “How much are we talking about?”

“Well, since the taxes were paid on it, roughly a billion and a half—give or take a hundred million.”

We would become great friends. Gina and I shared more than her body one night forty years ago. We shared a fervent belief that miracles exist… If you just believe.




© Copyright 2019 Chuckepoo. All rights reserved.

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