Christmas Spirit: Part Two

The Spirit of Christmas yanked Reena Sky out of her tight-fisted sleep. Sweat already cooled on her neck as she stood, ghost-thin and silent, watching her own future unfold four Christmases ahead. In the fire-lit room Shyla Jennings sat flush against redhead Elle Alexandra—both wives now, wedding bands glinting while they touched a small memorial candle marked with Reena’s name. Their voices low, they traded stories about the selfish, money-hungry woman she’d been, and Reena felt the floor drop when she realized the flame burned for her corpse. Outside the glass, snow tapped, indifferent. Christmas carols leaked from hidden speakers. They cuddled closer, then the mood shifted, mouths meeting beneath mistletoe, soft moans cutting across the music. Sweaters peeled away. Pale breasts lifted, nipples hardening as lips fastened and sucked. Shyla arched while Elle’s tongue traced each slope and valley, slick fingers sinking, searching. Heat crackled. Elle slid lower, parting Shyla’s legs, tasting the pink, swollen folds, lapping noisily, groaning as Shyla’s thighs trembled. Bodies twisted, curling together, wet cunt on wet cunt, thrusting, grinding, pleasure building until their cries peaked and they collapsed—gasping, flushed, slick with sweat. Reena watched the afterglow settle on their perfect skin and suddenly understood what her greed had stolen, but the vision stayed frozen, offering no way back.