Full Moon Over The Slopes

Back with a new story, and wait, is that a full moon? No, it's just the beautiful and perfect ass that inspired this post- check it out on the VIP discord. 

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When I started working for Chad Reynolds, there were some things I already knew, and some that I'd soon find out. I knew that he had won two gold medals at the last Winter Olympics, and I knew that he was hiring a videographer to get action shots for his upcoming documentary. I didn’t really know anything else about him, but when I saw the pay rate on the job listing, I knew that I would be applying no matter what.

I would soon find out that he was also a complete asshole, and the job was not paying enough for how much work I was doing.

So today, as I followed him down the slopes, I saw my golden ticket out of here. For the past week, I had been destroying my legs skiing down the same slopes over, and over, and over again. He meticulously checked my footage every night, and he would wake me up with an email telling me what we needed to fix today. We’d originally planned to film action shots before lunch on Day 1, but that day was never ending. He’d complain that his pants leg was rolled above his boot, or in one perfect video, he pointed out that his sponsor logo wasn’t visible on his helmet because of the glare from the sun.

I’d been icing my knees every night in my hotel room, and I was done. This morning, I took the golden ticket when it was offered to me. As we were going down the slopes for the third time that morning, Chad’s ski pants somehow slipped down. I wasn’t sure if his belt had broken or if he was sweating too much from all of this cardio, but I didn’t question anything. As the pants kept sliding down as he careened left and right past the flags on the course, his perfect ass framed in a pristine white jockstrap appeared for me and my camera. His pale skin seemed to shine on this winter morning, and I knew the footage would look glorious... I also knew how much money a tabloid would pay for the footage as well.

As he turned around to yell at me to delete the footage, I told him that I already had, but I did see a guy with a GoPro go by that might have caught it. He went along with my lie by saying that he'd seen the guy as well (even though I'd just made him up), and we finished the last thirty minutes of his work-out in silence. We were leaving way earlier than normal, and even though he hadn’t said anything, I knew it was because he was embarrassed. His face had been red when he’d turned to face me, and the cold couldn’t stop that blush from radiating across his cheeks. It couldn’t stop the quiver in his normally confident voice either.

After I left the clubhouse that day, I blocked his contact info and started shopping the video around. I was careful to zoom in on him and shift the camera angle to look like it wasn’t coming from me, and I never got contacted by him or his agent. I still got my paycheck, and even though I’d been impressed at the figure earlier, it was nothing compared to the payday that I received from his perfect ass. The tabloid paid big, and I deposited it straight into the bank. As for the video? That went into the bank as well- my spank bank.