Does anyone know of any seasonal (Xmas or New Year) birth stories?

Would love to read them at this time of year!

Here was a story I wrote last Christmas for a contest. The whole scenario takes place on Christmas Eve/Christmas Day.

https://belliusmaximus.deviantart.com/ar...-649861639

Very Pregnant Christmas
by ~Pregolove
One day Sandra had to go to the store for a few things. After walking around in the store for a while she spotted a free cookie stand outside one of the aisles. "Well I am kind of hungry." thought Sandra as she went over to the cookie stand. "Hi Sandra." said Helen. "Are you eating a cookie?" asked Helen. "Hi Helen. Yep I was just about to eat a cookie." said Sandra. "Do you want one?" asked Sandra.

"Sure." Helen took a cookie and started to eat it. "The cookie tastes pretty good." said Sandra as she ate her cookie. "It was mmmmmmm," Helen felt a rumble in her tummy "I don't it's sitting well though." said Helen while rubbing her stomach. "What did they put in these cookies?" asked Sandra as her belly started to rumble too. "Man I.. need t.... groans sit down." Helen was in pain she tried to move but the pain in her stomach was overwhelming. "There... there are some chairs over in the next aisle." groaned Sandra as she rubbed her aching belly. Helen saw two weird short figures appear in front of Helen and Sandra.

"Who are these guys?" asked Sandra. "They look like Christmas elves?" Helen looked confused as she and Sandra are sucked into their magic bag. "Where do you think they're taking us Helen?" worriedly asked Sandra as she and Helen were unable to see inside the magic bag. "I think somewhere in the North Pole." Helen was scared and was holding Sandra 's hand. "I don't think they'll hurt us will they?" nervously asked Sandra as she held Helen's hand. "Let's hope not" Helen and Sandra were let out of the bag. "Ho ho ho, what do we got here?" a man in red suit approaches them and turns to be Santa Claus. "Why did you kidnap us for?" asked Sandra who was shocked and trying to take in what just happened to her and Helen.

"Well you see my fine young ladies, my elf population has been dropping drastically, there also not enough female elves, I figure since you'll be the first humans to become pregnant with elves ho ho ho ho ho" explained Santa. "So that was why the cookies made our bellies hurt. I guess we don't have a choice but to help Santa." sighed Sandra. "Yes but," Helen asked Santa "How long is the pregnancy and how big?" Santa playing with his beard "It would a year and you become very huge you'll be producing the little elves like a termite queen." said Santa. "We..we're going to be pregnant for a year and give birth to thousands of elves?" asked Sandra as she almost fainted.

"Yes indeed ho ho ho ho ho." laughed Santa. Helen felt a stomach cramp "Oh groans oh no, I think it's happening." Helen's belly started to expand. "Owie my belly's growing too!" groaned Sandra as her belly started to grow and rip through her shirt. "Mmmmmmm I can feel them growing." Helen's belly was slowly growing like a balloon. "Mmmmmmm I can feel them growing." Sandra's belly grew larger until she looked like she was 10 months pregnant with quadruplets. "This actually feels good." contently smiled Sandra as she rubbed her growing belly. Helen's belly grew the size of octuplets. "Yeah, mmmmmm it does feel good." Santa was watching the women's wombs grow large, he was pleased with the results. "I was going to do that to the Mrs. Claus but she's old as I am couldn't do it anyway ho ho ho ho."
"We better get a lot of presents for this Santa." said Sandra as her belly grew to the size of Helen's.

"I'll be sure to leave something extra under the tree for you this year ho ho ho." said Santa. "Presents?" Helen looked confused for a moment and looked at Sandra. "This feels wonderful." "Yes it does feel wonderful." said Sandra as her belly grew even larger. "I bet it also would wonderful as we give birth to Santa's elves" giggled Helen as her belly grew larger and larger. "I'm sure it will be!" smiled Sandra as her belly continued to grow larger.

Helen felt her water broke "Oh I think it's starting." Helen was breathing and rubbing her growing womb. Sandra felt her water break as well. "I think it's starting for me too." groaned Sandra as she rubbed her belly and started to push. Helen was breathing and started to push "Puff puff puff puff oohh yeah!" she gave birth to the first and it was like orgasm. "This feels so amazing!" said Sandra as she gave birth to her first elf and started to push out her second one. "I do feel like a termite queen" said Helen while she gives birth to elves. "I guess being a termite queen isn't so bad after all." smiles Sandra as she continues to give birth and rub her belly while doing so. "Mmmmmm it isn't, I'm glad it's like it." said Helen while she holds Sandra's hand.

Sandra smiles and starts to rub Helen's belly with her other hand. "We be like this for a year." smiled Helen. "Maybe after that year is up we can get pregnant again." happily said Sandra as she continued to give birth and rub Helen's belly. "Hmmm yes." as Helen and Sandra continue to give birth to Santa's elves and a year has passed. "Phew that was a fast but great year." sighed Sandra as she gave birth to her final elf. "How many elves do you think we've given birth too?" asked Sandra. "It's too many to count." giggled Helen. "I'd have to say somewhere in the thousands." giggled Sandra. Helen puts her head on Sandra's shoulder. Sandra smiles and gives Helen a hug. Helen kisses Sandra's cheek. "I love you Sandra'" said Helen while resting her head on Sandra's chest. "I love you too, Helen." smiles Sandra as she gives Helen a kiss.

Probably one of the best Christmas birth stories.

All I want for Christmas ...
by Dropster

The cute little blond-haired five-year-old was sitting on Santa’s knee in
the grotto in the atrium of the Westvale Mall. As it was Christmas Eve,
there was a substantial crowd cramming desperately into the shops and a
line of mothers with their children queued to take their turns on the plump
knee of the jolly white-bearded man.
To one side, by the crimson velvet rope dividing Santa’s grotto from
the milling crowds, a woman stood whose fond gaze showed her to be the
mother of the blond-haired boy. She looked every inch the successful female
executive, her lustrous brown hair pulled severely back from her face and
expensive glasses giving her a serious, capable image; the image of
masculine efficiency betrayed only by the feminine fertility shown in the
full, lush features of her face. But this fertility was revealed even more
strongly by her clothes. Above the beautifully-cut, pleated skirt in autumn
brown she wore a simple stretch top in charcoal, a colour often favoured to
disguise the curves of the pregnant body, but in this case nothing could hide
the great, round, protruding abdomen of a woman far gone with child. The
top was clearly specifically designed to accommodate the hugely swollen
belly of a woman late in her third trimester, but even so it was visibly
T
stretched thin and taut over the young mother’s enormous mound, her navel
poking out hard and stretched beneath the straining fabric. She was very
obviously close to producing a brother or sister for the young boy on Santa’s
knee.
Helen sighed softly and shifted her feet. The great size of the babe
within her became uncomfortably apparent these days if she stood still for
long. After an initial exchange of words young Tom had sat a while in
thought. Now he leaned towards Santa’s ear and whispered. Santa gave her
a quick look, almost startled she thought, and then bent back to murmur to
her little boy. Tom looked so cute perched there that Helen felt a tug at her
heartstrings. Her, no doubt, hormonally charged heartstrings. Then she felt a
tug somewhere else. A very firm sharp tug.
It felt like her baby had planted its feet against the top of her womb
and kicked her fiercely. She gave a sharp gasp and clapped a hand to the
upper surface of her swollen tummy stroking and soothing the pain there.
But even as she did so she felt a cramping pain low down, deeply buried in
her pelvis. She felt her face going red as she fought to control her breath.
Her hips shifted awkwardly as she sought to relieve the intense cramping
pressure. Her hands ran anxiously around the underside of her great belly.
She could feel tension in the muscles there.
She had been experiencing occasional cramps for a few days now.
Her doctor had confirmed that they were nothing to worry about: she
continued to hold her baby high in her abdomen. Her due date was a week
away and she had planned carefully to finish all that she was working on by
today and, once the family Christmas was out of the way (she was
entertaining the in-laws this year), she had an appointment already booked
at the hospital to be induced which would allow her to return to her desk
very early in the new year.
Helen allowed herself to pant surreptitiously: “wwhhhhhhh …
wwhhhhhhh …” It seemed to help, the discomfort was now ebbing slowly.
But that had been a definitely more troublesome incident than her other
cramps to date. “I must be overtired,” she thought. “I’ve been overdoing it.
That must be it.” She and Tom only needed to chose a present for daddy and
then she could get home to a welcome bath. Tom was bouncing off the fat
man’s knee and heading happily towards the exit. Taking a deep breath,
Helen walked carefully to meet him.
Helen was trying hard not to waddle as she walked hand in hand
with her son through the mall. She was suddenly feeling quite warm and
was conscious of a hot flush spreading over her features. Late pregnancy
could do that, she knew.
“What do you think Daddy would like for Christmas?” She asked
Tom. There was a pause.
“He could have the baby too—I wouldn’t mind.”
“The baby?”
“Yes. I told Santa Claus: all I wanted for Christmas was the new
baby. I bet Daddy would like that too.”
“You told Santa what …?” Helen gasped, resting a protective hand
involuntarily on her tightly swollen belly. “You can’t have … wwhhh … not
for Christmas … wwhhhhh! … Tom! … Oooooohh! …”
All thought of chiding Tom forgotten, Helen was biting her lip and
clutching her free hand to her uterus which had suddenly gone hard and
sore. Her knees trembled and she stumbled a little, then pulled Thomas out
of the traffic streaming by so she could sag gratefully against a storefront.
“Mummy?” he said, surprised.
“It’s nothing, darling ...” she replied. “ … wwhhhhh! … wwhhhhh!
… Mummy just got tired ... wwhhhhh! … hhhooooo! … That’s all.”
She rubbed at her burning tummy. The sensation was familiar. Only
too familiar. “Only I can’t be starting yet,” she told herself, “I just need to
sit down somewhere and take the pressure off my belly.”
Holding the hand of her young son, the troubled executive waddled
slowly towards the toilets located in a side aisle behind the shops. Her
knitted top felt suddenly very tight and she longed to flip it up to free her
tensely swollen abdomen. Furthermore, with each step she felt an urgent
pressure bearing down on her pelvic floor as if her fetus had already started
its assault on the maternal cervix.
Thomas noted that his mummy seemed suddenly to be having some
difficulty walking and her face was becoming quite flushed as if she was
involved in something quite vigorous. He had been told that the new baby
would come out of his mummy’s tummy and that the reason why he
couldn’t watch was that it involved a lot of hard work for mummy.
“Is the baby coming already mummy?” he asked hopefully.
“What? … no .. Tommy … don’t say things like that!” Helen
implored distractedly. “… OoohhHHoooo! … It’s happening again! … Ohh
Tommy! …” she gasped. A hard searing pain was spreading across the great
curve of her belly and as her hand grasped at the designer top she could feel
the muscles of her uterus rippling and hardening.
She gripped her son’s hand fiercely. “Quickly,” she hissed, dragging
him into the nearest open stall in the women’s toilets.
“HHhhhaaaaaaarggghhh!! …” she groaned, doubling over the toilet
basin with her arms wrapped around her convulsing tummy. She sank into a
squat, her knees spread as far apart as her skirt would allow, anything to
ease the terrible pressure she was experiencing, to make more room for the
fetal head she could feel beginning to bulldoze its way into the narrow gap
in her pelvic bones.
“HHhhhhaaaaaahhh! … HHhhhhaaaaaahhh! …” she panted
urgently, trying to ride through the urgency of the contraction gripping her
body like a vice. “ HHhhhhaaaaaahhh! … HHhhhhaaaaaahhh! …
nnnnnggggghhh!! …” Her face contorted and her chin sank down to her
chest a she realised she felt a desperate desire to push. “Nnoooooooo!! … “
she moaned, “ HHhhhhaaaaaahhh! … HHhhhhaaaaaahhh! …”
She flipped up the expensive charcoal top bearing her taut belly, all
hard planes and bulges where it pressed tightly on the limbs of her child.
“HHoooooooo …” she puffed gratefully, bowing her head. It seemed that
her spasm was ending.
After several moments of panting recovery, Helen hauled herself up
and plumped heavily onto the toilet seat. She pulled up her skirt and, with
some difficulty, tugged down the beautifully styled panties she was wearing
beneath.
This was the first time that Thomas had viewed the full, womanly
sex of his mother. Beneath the taut protruding belly her parted thighs
displayed a plump mound, thickly furred, with a gaping gash down the very
peak of that plumpness, the lips seeming to be peeling apart to expose a
clutter of moist, inflamed flesh within.
Helen probed with slender fingers the gap that her young son was
eyeing with such interest. She had to spread wide and still it was awkward
to get her hand around the bulk of her straining abdomen and push questing
fingers into her vagina. She could only get to the knuckle before feeling
something very hard blocking the way.
“Ohh Tommy,” she panted, “I don’t think I can take many more like
that. We need to get home and find Daddy.”
She stood, a little slowly and unsteadily, dragging her flimsy panties
up under the flowing skirt. Together they walked out into the crowded
concourse. With every step Helen suppressed a gasp at the urgency of the
downward pressure that seemed to be pushing her pelvis apart. She winced
as passers-by brushed against her hard, aching belly.
She felt the tightness begin to build once more. Her free hand
grasped ever more tightly the painful mound; cupping underneath it, trying
to lift her baby’s massive, inexorable weight off her pelvic floor.
She let out an explosive gasp as the pain returned, building and
building beneath her tight, sweat-dampened top.
Her knees began to tremble and weaken as the fearsome pressure in
her pelvic girdle pushed her thighs apart. She desperately needed to sit, and
to spread.
They were passing a furniture store, open onto the mall, brightly lit
to entice in the passing shoppers and, at the very front of the store, a lounge
suite.
With a long low moan of pain Helen waddled awkwardly towards
the store front and plumped her heavy, swollen body onto a brightly
coloured, well upholstered two seater. Beneath her flowing skirt her hugely
gravid belly bulged out: full, round and low between her bent, widespread
thighs. She was hot, red in the face and panting hard from the shock and her
exertions.
But the relief she sought from her travail was not to be found. In the
process of sitting on the low couch she had buckled her body at the waist
and drawn her shapely legs up to either side of her labouring belly.
Immediately her tummy went rigid with a searing contraction. She was
unable to suppress a high, keening moan as her pelvic bones creaked apart
and the bony head of her babe wedged itself lower and lower in her
womanly opening.
A crowd began to mill around, drawn by her cries and fascinated by
the unexpected show. Helen flushed crimson with mortification as she was
forced to lift her concealing skirt and tug desperately at her lacy panties.
Before the gathering throng she pulled the flimsy garment down, stretching
it with difficulty over the increasing gap between her parted legs, and
exposed her hairy vulva.
Once she had the panties over her knees and could freely stretch
them wide she cried out again and clutched at her hard belly. The pain was
surging back and this time she knew she had to push.
“HHHHHHNNNNGGh h h h h h h h ! ! … “ s h e g r o a n e d ,
“HHHhfffffffff! ... HHHhfffffffff! … HHHHHHNNNNGGhhhhhhhh!!”
With that something gave inside and she felt a fountain erupt from
her pouting pussy lips.
“HHOOooooooowwwww! …” she howled, and gasped for breath.
Already the next contraction was upon her. She reached forward and
grasped her buckled knees as she recalled doing when she had squeezed
Thomas painfully into the world. “ HHHHHHNNNNGGhhhhhhhh!! …”
she moaned again. “Ohh Lord!! … It’s coming! … HHHhfffffffff! …
HHHHHHNNNNGGhhhhhhhh!!”
Now there were gasps from the crowd of shoppers as Helen’s nicely
trimmed labia began to side apart and stretch into a gaping oval with the
glistening, gooey curve of a small skull appearing in the gap. Her feet were
flailing in the air, still tethered at the ankles by her damp lacy scrap of
panties. Her face was scarlet and twisted with pain and effort. Her belly
stood up hard and clenched with every awful contraction.
The baby slid back inside Helen’s straining vagina as her
contraction subsided and then thrust mercilessly forward as she screwed up
her face and howled with pain and pushed and pushed with the next one.
With each driving thrust of her strong, healthy tummy muscles the
baby's head bulged further out, pressing her delicate bottom out in a vast,
thinly stretched bowl, and widening her vulva to a hard, white-lipped ring.
Now her cries were gaining a new element of pain and fear as the
stinging agony in her labia warned her of the danger to her sensitive, over
stretched womanhood. She knew she mustn’t push too hard, must allow
time for her abused tissues to accommodate the terrible diameter of her
baby’s cranium.
She forced herself to lean forward, to put her feet to the ground. She
straightened her back and placed her hands on her lower thighs. She looked
tearily around the fascinated crowd witnessing her most intimate moment.
Then a last great contraction hit. Her flesh was forced apart and suddenly
the babe was sliding, bumping and bruising her tender flesh as it gathered
pace and popped free in a further gush of steaming fluid. With a shocked cry
she reached her panicked hands down just in time to catch her newly born
child as it shot out from her tortured vagina like a cork from a bottle.
Young Tom climbed onto the couch beside his trembling and
panting mother. “You did it Mummy! You did it!” he cried, clinging
enthusiastically to her neck. “I knew you could!” That’s the best Christmas
present ever!”

My apology about the formatting.

Thanks to both of you! Will look forward to reading these when I get a moment to myself!