Natasha was cross. Her supposed trip of a life time to the reputedly sunny and friendly USA was not working out how she planned. She had certainly not been told that snow was likely in New York state's Catskill mountains- in June!- nor that the boss of the law firm where she had secured a job and whose house she had to live in would hardly utter a word to her.
In fact the first week since leaving the obscure eastern European country where she had been brought up- and learned fluent English by spending most of her study time watching movies on her computer- had been awful.
The cold overcast mountain weather had turned to snow that morning and she had brought no clothes suitable for such weather. Her boss, Mr Wilkins as she was expected to call him, told her it was time to drive to work and started walking down the snow covered driveway a few steps ahead of Natasha, who only had flimsy shoes which were quite unsuitable for walking in that weather.
Suddenly she felt an urge to yell something really rude at him. The worst he could do was fire her and throw her out of his house leaving her penniless and homeless and possibly visaless in a strange land. Instead she picked up a big pile of snow rolled it into a ball and was going to throw it a tree to relieve her frustration when Mr Wilkins turned around and snapped "Hurry up, Natasha". Whether or not deliberately she was not quite sure, but the direction of her arm changed and the snowball was suddenly directed to Mr Wilkins and hit him full in the face.
"What!", he exclaimed. He bent down rolled a bigger pile of snow and hurled it back at Natasha, hitting her just above her right breast and leaving a big slightly transparent mark on her white blouse. Many more were thrown in the next few minutes. Natasha having fun for the first time since she had arrived in America. She might have enjoyed it even more had she been better clad, but her flimsy blouse and cotton skirt were soon becoming soaked, She could feel the cold gather all over her body, the sensation was particularly in her nipples which were becoming very hard. That was not going to stop her pelting Mr Wilkins. She was giving him the pounding his rudeness deserved. There was also something rather attractive about him, despite his great age- he was at least 35- that made playing with him even or enjoyable.