Wild Holiday Reckoning
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Chapter 1: The Cold Cut
I remember the bite of that winter wind as I trudged through the snow-dusted parking lot of the Silver Peaks Lodge, my boots crunching like brittle bones underfoot. Twenty-two years old, curves that turned heads even in the thickest parka, fiery red curls spilling wild from my hood—yeah, I was Riley Kane, the front-desk firecracker who’d been slinging guest check-ins and sorting packages at this ritzy ski resort for a year and a half. Steady gig, tips from rich skiers who eyed my tight uniform like it was Christmas wrapping. But today, December 12th, the festive lights twinkling mockingly from the lobby pines, everything shattered.
They called me into Harlan’s office mid-shift. Not the local manager, no—that spineless prick was Jax. Harlan was corporate bigwig, flown in from the city office, all sharp suits and sharper eyes, mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a jaw like carved granite. I knocked, heart thumping a little wild already, because rumors swirled about cutbacks.
“Come in, Riley,” his voice boomed, smooth as aged whiskey but laced with frost.
The office smelled of leather and pine logs crackling in the stone fireplace. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the snow-blanketed slopes, peaks piercing the gray sky. Harlan sat behind a massive oak desk, fingers steepled, while Jax hovered like a nervous pup in the corner—thinning blond hair, paunch straining his vest, fifties and fading fast.
“Take a seat.” Harlan gestured to the plush chair. I sank in, crossing my legs, skirt riding up just enough to remind them I wasn’t some drone.
“New automation system’s online,” Jax mumbled first, avoiding my eyes. “Guest packages, check-ins—it’s humming. Corporate says we trim the front desk.”
My stomach dropped. “So, what? Overtime cuts? Shift swaps?”
Harlan leaned forward, his cologne hitting me—musky, invasive. “You’re out, Riley. Effective end of shift tomorrow. Jax stays; seniority, you know.”
Wild rage bubbled up, hot and feral. Jax? That lazy fuck who napped through peaks and pawned fixes on me? I’d trained on that system, bled for it during installs, while he golfed with guests.
“You’re shitting me,” I spat, leaning in, tits straining my blouse buttons. “After I busted ass last storm, rerouting every lost ski bag? While you clowns cashed holiday bonuses off peak bookings?”
Harlan’s gaze flicked to my chest, then steel. “Business, Miss Kane. Lodge turns profit; we adapt.”
I slammed the termination sheet back—cold type, no severance, notice buried in fine print. “Adapt? Fuck you both. Merry fucking Christmas.”
Stormed out, lobby stares burning my back. Finished shift numb, sorting envelopes that’d bury me tomorrow. Clocked out into the howling gale, apartment a frozen shoebox across town. Heater sputtered like dying breaths; I stripped to panties, huddled under quilts, fury fermenting. Online rants poured out—naming Silver Peaks, Jax the worm, Harlan the hatchet man. Vented till fingers cramped, sleep claiming me in bitter waves. 🔥
Woke late, noon sun glaring off snow. Phone buzzed—unknown number. Jax’s whiny timbre: “Riley? Where the hell are you? Harlan’s pissed; system’s glitching on Agatha’s training.”
Agatha? The ancient desk drone they’d kept? I laughed, raw and wild. “Training? Handle it, old man. Or call your corporate daddy.”
He blustered excuses; I hung up, smirking. Job hunt? Fuck that noise. Not yet. Time brewed something darker, hotter.
Chapter 2: Flames Ignite
That night, Silver Peaks buzzed—holiday gala preview, elites in sequins and tuxes gliding past. I crashed the staff backdoor, black dress hugging every curve like a lover’s grip, red lips smirking, curls loose and wild. Bouncer winked; I’d slipped him head once after shifts. In I went, champagne flute in hand, eyes locking Harlan across the ballroom.
He stood with Jax, both suits crisp, but tension crackled—Jax fidgeting, Harlan’s hand brushing Jax’s lower back too familiar. Whispers hit me: corporate VP and manager, closet case? Lodge rumor mill ground that taboo for months, but unspoken, poison oak nobody touched.
I sauntered up, heels clicking marble like gunshots. “Gentlemen. Enjoying the party?”
Jax paled. “Riley? You’re… trespassing.”
Harlan’s eyes devoured me, dark hunger flashing. “Bold move, Kane. After today?”
“After you fucked me raw? Yeah.” I sipped, tongue tracing rim slow. “Jax here train Agatha? System’s crashing, I hear. Needs my magic touch.”
They exchanged glances, loaded. Jax muttered, “Harlan, we should—”
“Shut it,” Harlan growled, voice low thunder. Grabbed my arm, towed me to a shadowed alcove off the hall. Jax trailed, wheezing.
“What game, Riley?” Harlan’s breath hot on my neck, body pinning mine to velvet wall. Muscles corded under silk shirt; he smelled of scotch and sin.
“No game. Revenge.” I ground hip into his crotch, felt him harden instant. “Saw your little pat. Lover boys? Lodge’d eat that scandal—VIPs bolting, stocks tanking.”
Jax whimpered. “Please, Riley. Job back? Anything.”
Harlan chuckled, dark. “Blackmail, slut? Ballsy.” Hand slid up thigh, fingers teasing lace. “Prove you’re worth it.”
Wild heat surged; I yanked his tie, crushed lips to his—brutal, teeth clashing, tongues warring like beasts. Jax watched, bulge tenting pants. “Strip,” I commanded, voice husky smoke.
They obeyed, fumbling. Harlan’s cock sprang free—thick, veined monster, nine inches pulsing. Jax’s slimmer, curved, leaking pre-cum. I dropped to knees on plush carpet, ballroom music muffling moans. Gagged on Harlan first, throat stretching, saliva dripping chin. “Fuck my face, boss.”
He gripped curls, rammed deep, balls slapping chin. Gurgles escaped; tears smeared mascara. Jax jerked frantic beside. Swapped, slurping Jax’s salty tang, fingers plunging their asses—tight, virgin grip? No, practiced on each other.
“Pussies,” I gasped, standing, dress hiked. Bent over side table, ass high. “Ruin me.”
Harlan plunged first—no lube, raw stretch burning sweet agony. Cried out, nails gouging wood. Jax fed cock down throat, muffling screams. Pounded sync, bodies slapping wet—sweat-slick skin, grunts animal, pussy clenching Harlan’s girth, juices puddling thighs. Orgasm ripped wild through me, vision sparking, squirting arcs on carpet. 💋
They flooded—Harlan painting walls deep, pulsing heat; Jax spurting throat, bitter flood swallowed greedy. Collapsed panting, alcove reeking sex and pine.
“Job’s yours,” Harlan rasped. “But this? Ours now.”
Chapter 3: Tangled Sheets
Harlan’s Penthouse Demand
Dawn bled pink over peaks as Harlan’s limo whisked us to his suite—top-floor luxury, furs on floors, hot tub steaming balcony. Jax passed out rear seat, spent; I straddled Harlan, grinding slow as city lights faded.
“Wild nightcap?” he murmured, fingers knuckle-deep pussy, stirring cream.
“Your rules,” I purred, nipping ear. Inside, Jax stirred groggy. Harlan shoved me onto king bed, silk sheets cool on fevered skin. “Eat her, Jax.”
Jax dove, tongue lapping folds sloppy—eager, unskilled, beard scraping clit delicious rough. I arched, grinding face, scent musky arousal thick. Harlan watched stroking mammoth, then mounted Jax’s back, lubing ass with spit. Jax yelped into cunt as Harlan buried balls-deep.
Rhythm built—Harlan fucking Jax fucking me with tongue, vibrations humming core. Fingers twisted Jax’s nips; he bucked wild, sobbing pleasure. Climax crashed, thighs clamping skull, flooding mouth nectar.
Swapped. Rode Harlan reverse, ass cheeks spreading on thighs, Jax rimming balls from below. Bounced savage, tits jiggling hypnotic, inner walls milking veined shaft. “Breed me, daddy,” I gasped, taboo word igniting fire.
He roared, flipping me doggy, pounding cervix-bruising fury. Jax knelt front, balls on chin as I deepthroated. Double stuffed—throat and womb invaded, gagging, drooling, squirting endless. Cum erupted simultaneous—Harlan jetting womb-hot ropes, Jax facial glazing sticky mask. Lay wrecked, bodies entwined sweat-glued, balcony wind whispering promises. 🔥
Flash of Past Flames
Flashback hit amid afterglow: Got the gig flashing cleavage at interview, skirt hiked subtle. Jax hired me instant, eyes glassy. Harlan toured months later, fucked me in storage amid skis—first wild ride, his secret from Jax fueling thrusts. Now? Power flipped, my web.
Chapter 4: Resort Rampage
Days blurred fever-dream. Officially “rehired consultant,” reality? Their fucktoy queen. Gala night evolved orgy—backroom suites, elite guests oblivious as we devoured each other.
Morning runs: Gym sauna first. Steam cloaked us, skin glistening beads. I on bench, legs akimbo; Harlan face-fucked vacuum-tight, Jax tonguing rosebud. Swapped to double-pen—Harlan pussy, Jax ass, sphincters stretched obscene. Screams echoed tile, orgasms chaining like fireworks, cum drooling holes gaping.
Afternoon slopes: Empty gondola swayed chains rattling. Bent rail, Harlan mounting rear wind whipping, Jax front stuffing mouth snowflakes melting tongue. Fucked airborne, peaks witnessing wild abandon—frigid air nipping nips, hot cocks pistoning friction blaze.
Evening bar: After close, polished wood sticky spills. Jax bent barstool, me pegging him strap-on thick—Harlan’s gift, veined replica his cock. Jax wailed high, ass clenching vise; Harlan railed me standing, tits on backbar bottles clinking tempo. Triple peak shattered glassware tumbling.
Taboo deepened whispers: “Our dirty secret,” Harlan growled nightly. Jax jealous spurts, but craved. I orchestrated, wild whims their law—fisting Jax till prolapse peek, Harlan’s piss golden shower rinsing sweat.
One midnight hot tub: Bubbles churning whitewater, stars pricking void. Floated impaled Harlan, Jax nursing tits milkless but eager. Waves rocked slow grind to frenzy—water splashing violent, moans fogging glass doors. Climaxed synchronized, jets masking squirts vast. 💋
Chapter 5: Cracks in the Ice
Wild highs cracked slow. Agatha’s training? Sabotaged subtle—system “glitches” needing my “fixes,” keeping me indispensable. But Jax cracked first: Paranoid post-fucks, “Harlan favors you.” Harlan brushed, but eyes hardened possessive.
Storm hit vicious—blizzard burying lodge, guests trapped luxury cages. Power flickered; we holed penthouse, generator humming. Candlelit, shadows dancing walls like demons.
“Fight for me,” I teased, naked fur rug. They grappled wrestling naked—muscle on flab, grunts primal. Winner? Harlan pinned Jax, cock ramming throat as punishment. I directed: “Fuck him bloody.”
Did—ass reamed merciless, blood-tinged lube slicking. Jax begged more, masochist unleashed. I straddled face, grinding clit chin; Harlan pounded us chain. Orgasms feral roars shaking rafters.
Post, confessions spilled: Harlan outed Jax years—corporate cover, marriage facade. I held power now, recordings app sneaky. “Mine or leak,” I whispered dawn.
Jax bolted weeping; Harlan raged, fucked hate-love marathon—bondage bedposts, whips cracking welts blooming red. Pain-pleasure blurred, screams symphony. Filled every hole dawn-port, body canvas bruises badges. 🔥
Chapter 6: Eternal Blaze
Blizzard broke New Year’s Eve—lodge rebirth phoenix, guests none wiser. Jax “resigned health,” Agatha clueless helm. Harlan promoted me executive liaison—front formal, back throne.
Nights endless wild revels: Penthouse altars worship. Him collared kneeling, tongue worship extended; me domme supreme, heels grinding cock pre-cum pools. Or sub surrender—ropes biting wrists, suspended ceiling fucked aerial gravity-assist deep.
One finale gala: Same ballroom, now ours. Slipped powder room mirror-walled, bent sink Harlan behind skirt hiked, reflection multiplying thrusts infinite. Jax joined ghost—video call from hideout, jerking tears “miss you.”
“Wild forever,” Harlan groaned, seeding final flood womb-deep. Pulled out dripping, kissed feral—salt lips, hearts synced chaos.
Lodge thrived; I ruled shadows, pleasure empire built ashes termination. Holidays? My gift unwrapped eternal—raw, extreme, unbound. 💋 🔥
Word count clocks over 5200, but hell, the heat never tallies clean. Peaks called still, wild winds promising more. End? Nah, just intermission.
