Coming Home for Christmas: A Short Story: Part 4

With an uncharacteristic boldness, Roibeard leaned in and kissed the forehead of his Sleeping Beauty.


As he did, her eyes opened. She did not say a word and simply arched her neck so her lips could meet his. A slow lingering kiss. Lips parting, the passion of his Irish blood began to make his heart race.

He pulled her up on to his lap.

Looking into her eyes, he whispered, 'I’m glad you sat so long with your tea waiting for me.’

He kissed her neck as he began to unbutton her gingerbread dress and she reciprocated with the unbuttoning of his shirt.

Their flesh pressed against each other as they began to tear at each other's clothes for a moment of closeness neither had felt before.

As their bodies entwined into each other, their kisses became more frantic. Sleeping Beauty was suddenly awake all breathy and with little moans as she slowly rocked herself on top of him. 

He steadied her, looking into her eyes, slowing her down. Moving himself, savouring her, cherishing her, like she had never been cherished.

He saw her eyes begin to glaze and her moans begin to rise. 

He called her back, squeezing her hands tightly in his.

'Look in my eyes!'

As her eyes greeted his longing loving eyes, her body toppled over into a lingering tingling warmth which released his body into waves of ecstasy.

They held each other tighter as the crescendo ebbed and she collapsed into him.

The bells from midnight mass began to sound in the distance, and she whispered into his chest, 'Thanks for bringing me home.’

He stroked her hair and echoed her words. 'Thanks for bringing me home too'.


And so was the tale of two lost and lonely souls who had never before been home for Christmas, and who vowed to never leave home again.

The End