Snow Day Story 01

This is the first of 6 separate stories that was taken from a much larger piece. They take place on the same day, at the same time, during the same snow storm. Since each is a story all its own, it doesn't matter which one you read first. WK

*

Dean Lake stared out the window and sighed heavily. He had only moved here with his father and stepmother 3 weeks before, and already he hated snow. At first, he had understood why his father wanted to move from California to where Lydia lived.

They had met on line, of all places, in a chat room geared for widows and widowers. To hear his father tell it, it was almost "love at first type", something that he and Lydia would always laugh about. Dean also had to admit that he liked the woman, not only because she was hot, but because she actually listened to him. She also didn't expect to take the places of his real mother, rest her soul. That fact alone made her worth getting to know.

"How's it look out there?" his father asked as he walked into the room.

"Pretty much what I'd imagine Hell would look like if it ever froze over," Dean quipped without turning from the window.

"Spoken like a true Californian," his father chuckled. "You know, I hear there's money to be made for wielding a shovel around here. Why don't you put you new found snow slinging skills to good use?" He then pointed out the window. You can start right here, you know, to get you warmed up and get your pocket primed."

"Sure, although how you can say warmed up when you're talking about 25 degree weather I have no idea." He then sighed as he cracked his knuckles. "This better be worth the $150.00," he mumbled.

"Whoa...what $150?" his father asked, almost spitting out his coffee.

"Dad," Dean smiled as he slung his arm over his father's shoulder. "Let me put things into perspective for you. We're from California where the only snow you see is up in the mountains, and you only see that if you actually drive to go see it. I'm 18 years old, displaced from all my friends, brought to a coast where I don't know anybody, and am now being pimped out to break my back shoveling crystallized water into ever growing heaps. Trust me, $150 is cheap compensation."

"Twenty, and not a penny more," his father replied dryly, although the smirk on his face told a different story.

"A hundred and I'll even pretend to enjoy it."

"Ten," his father replied, the smirk growing larger.

"Ok, ok, $20!" Dean replied quickly. He then shook his head. "I almost wish I wasn't 18. I know there has to be a connection to child slavery in here someplace."

"Clean the car off first," his father said as he shook his head. I have to leave for work in a half hour."

"The radio says that, if you don't have to go out, you shouldn't bother, so why you're bothering is beyond me," he muttered.

"The radio station doesn't pay our bills," his father retorted, still smiling as he shook his head.

Thankfully, the snow was light and powdery so it made shoveling a lot easier. Once the car was cleaned off, it only took him a half hour to finish the rest of the driveway and sidewalk, even though the snow was already re-covering what he had already cleared.

He was just about to go in to get his money, when he heard one of the most dreaded sounds in winter; the sound of a snow plow. As the great lumbering truck rolled noisily past, he turned to the house. "You just made it $40!" he yelled to his father, who stood chuckling in the window.

He had just finished tossing the last shovel full when his father came out to warm up the car. "You did a great job, Deano," he said with a smile, "even though it already looks like you didn't do anything. As he spoke, he extended his hand, and when Dean looked down and saw the three twenty dollar bills, he smiled as well. "Go in and rest a bit. Lydia made you some bacon and eggs."

"What were you doing out there all this time?" Lydia asked as she scrapped the scrambled eggs onto a plate.

"Shoveling," he sniffed, rubbing his hands together. He was trying hard not to look at her, at least not so she would notice. She was wearing quite possibly the tightest, softest looking sweat pants he had ever seen, and an old, faded concert T-shirt.

When she turned to him, she giggled slightly. "What are you looking at?" she asked, his eyes trained directly on her large, braless tits.

"I'm trying to make out what concert that T-shirt was from," he replied, which was partially true. It was as he was reading the faded letters that he realized her nipples looked hard enough to dial a phone with.

She nodded as if accepting his answer, although she thought she knew better. "Why were you shoveling? I have a perfectly good snow blower in the garage. Didn't your father tell you?"

Dean stopped in mid chew and furrowed his brow. "As a matter of fact, that nugget of information seemed to have slipped his mind," he grumbled. The only thing that kept him from getting up in a huff and going to his room was the camel toe Lydia was sporting. As far as he could tell, she also didn't believe in underwear.

"REO Speedwagon," she said as she washed the skillet.

He was so busy staring at her jiggling ass cheeks, he almost didn't hear her. "Pardon me?" he asked. "What's that?"

Lydia shook her head, suddenly feeling a little older. "REO Speedwagon was a rock group when I was your age," she told him.

"That couldn't have been too long ago," he replied absently. He didn't realize it, but he had just made her day a whole lot brighter.

"Why, Dean!" she grinned. "That's possibly the sweetest thing that anyone has ever said to me! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, I guess," he mumbled around a mouth full of food. She was so happy, without realizing it, she treated him to a very nice view as she bent over to pick up a wash rag she had dropped. Not only could her see directly up her T-shirt, he also could see her plump, well defined pussy pressing against the tight fabric.

"Would you mind if I used the snow blower to make some money?" he asked as he washed his own dish.

"Not at all, sweetie," she grinned at him. "You might have a little trouble starting it, though. My late husband, rest his soul, was usually the one who used it, and it's been sitting for three years. I always paid somebody to shovel for me, so I never had to use it."

***

"Thank you Mr. Demopolis," he smiled twenty minutes later. He had invoked the name of his old high school shop teacher because if it wasn't for him, he never would have got the blower started. He also mentally patted himself on the back for paying attention in class.

Six houses and $180 later, he was making his way back home when a female voice called out to him. "Excuse me," he heard. It took him a moment to locate the owner of the voice. "Do you think you could do my driveway and walk for me? I broke my leg otherwise I'd do it myself."

"Sure thing," he smiled tiredly. All he really wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower and then plop himself in front of the TV and play his new video game. However, he never would have been able to forgive himself, knowing he turned down a lady in distress.

Just as he finished his final pass on the driveway, the snow blower sputtered, coughed and died. Picking up the large gas can he had carried with him, he gave it a shake and shook his head with a sigh. "Looks like I have to push you home," he grumbled. Giving his work a final look over to make sure he didn't miss anything, he smiled to himself and began pushing the blower towards home.

"Wait!" the woman called. He turned to see her poking her head out an upstairs window. "Don't you want to get paid?"

"I only take money from those too lazy to come out and do it themselves," he smiled up at her. "You obviously can't do it yourself, so it's no problem. Hope you feel better." With a final smile and wave, he started to leave.

"Don't leave! Please?" The desperation in her voice was clear, so with a sigh, he pushed the blower off to the side of the driveway. "The front door's open. Just come in." The relief he heard in her voice made him smile. If it meant that much to her to have a little company, than he could forego his video games for a little while.

The inside of the house was warm and smelled like cookies. As he took off his boots, he winced as the frozen, snow encrusted cuffs of his jeans lay against the bare skin of his ankles. "Hi!" she gushed from the top of the stairs. "I'm Jenna."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Dean," he smiled and waved. She was younger and much cuter than he originally believed. Standing about five and a half feet tall, she had curly black hair pulled back into a short ponytail. Her face was covered with freckles and she wore large glasses that Dean thought made her look like an owl, and the T-shirt and cut off sweat pants she was wearing showed him that she wasn't afraid to eat.

"Are you new around here?"

Dean nodded. "Do you know Lydia, down the street?"

Jenna smiled and nodded. "Yeah! She's a nice woman. Her and my mom talk all the time. My mom's a nurse, too. Are you her nephew or something?"

Dean shook his head, trying not to show the discomfort of having the melting snow from his jean cuffs soaking through his socks. "My dad married her. She's my step-mom."

"Wow, how cool is that?" She then pointed at him. "C'mon up, don't be shy.'

"I'm all drippy," he replied, looking down at the small puddle he was now standing in.

She gave him a small frown. "You're a little skinnier than I am, but, if you aren't too shy, take off your pants and I'll give you a pair of sweats to wear while they dry, ok?"

The thought of taking off his pants in front of a total stranger made him blush. "Ok, sure," he replied nervously. It was obvious to him that she was desperate to have a little company, and for some reason, the thought of making her happy made him feel good.

"Here you go," she called as she hobbled back to him. "Sorry that took so long, but I'm still learning to get around."

Once he caught the gray sweats, he busied himself with unbuckling his pants. "So how'd that happen?" he asked absently. He didn't have to look up to know that she was watching him disrobe, although the thought of which excited and embarrassed him at the same time.

"I'm not a very athletic person, but some friends of mine thought it would be great to go skiing, and I thought it would be fun. And it was, right up to the point of me getting to the bunny slope. I've never been on skis before, and was trying to make my way over to the instructor when I hit something and went down. The instructor said he heard the bone snap from twenty feet away. I blacked out, and the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital in a leg cast. Pretty pathetic, huh?"

"Nah," he smiled up at her. "I probably wouldn't have made it that far."

"Come on up," she waved again. "I just made some cookies. What do you want to go with them? Coffee, tea, milk, soda?"

"What are you going to have?" he asked as he climbed the stairs.

"Tea," she smiled. "Oh, you might not want to get too close to me," she warned as she pointed to the cast. "I haven't really been able to shower or anything, so I'm a little ripe. I'm sorry."

Dean smiled and shrugged. "I can help you take a bath, if you want. You know, help you in and out of the tub and stuff." Just the thought of that made them both blush furiously. He had meant it in a completely innocent way, yet the implications and possibilities were obvious.

"That's very sweet of you," she replied shyly, "and if you're serious, I might take you up on it." She then pointed to the phone, as if trying to change the subject. "You can call Lydia if you want and let her know where you are."

"Does she have a problem with you staying?" she asked as he hung up the phone.

"Nah," he smiled at her. "She thanked me for calling though. She said she was worried about me."

"Why would she be worried? Afraid you'd get lost in your new neighborhood?"

He walked to where she was filling the teapot and gently took it from her. "Go sit," he told her gently. "I'll do that." Glancing down, he swore he saw her nipples harden in an instant, a sight that caused his cock to twitch. "No, she thought I would freeze to death," he chuckled, answering her question. "I'm from California." He then pointed vaguely towards outside. "This is my first snow day."

"You're still in school?" She asked, her voice betraying her obvious disappointment. She had thought she was dealing with someone closer to her own age of 23.

"Yeah. When I was 15, I got into a nasty skateboard accident that left me in coma for 3 weeks. It took me awhile to recover and I lost a lot of time at school, so I had to repeat the eighth grade. Besides, I started school kind of late. I'll be 19 in July."

A smile of relief spread across Jenna's cute face, and her green eyes sparkled. "So what did you do for excitement back in Cali...did you have a girlfriend?"

"I had one until a few months before I came here. I was supposed to stay behind so her and I could be together, but she decided the captain of the football team was better for her than me, so I just said the hell with it and moved with my dad." He then shrugged a little sadly. "Besides, there was nothing for me there, really. I mean, all my friends were drinkers and stoners, and to me that's not cool."

"That's very commendable," she replied. Just then, the kettle began to whistle. As Jenna started to get up, Dean made her sit back down, an act that turned her on more than she would have liked to admit. She then looked up at the ceiling and mouthed the words "Thank you" to it.

Until today, her self esteem was all but gone. She had had only 3 long term boyfriends in her life, and all of them were controlling, abusive assholes. And, although she didn't know if she could bring herself to lesbianism, she had halfheartedly resigned herself to spending the rest of her life alone, relying only on her fingers and her vibrators for sexual pleasure.

That was what she had been doing when she heard the sound of the snow blower outside. She was just getting herself primed by toying gently with her clit, when the sound caught her attention. Moving as fast as her full leg cast would let her, she went to the window and peered out and saw Dean walking slowly behind the snow blower.

Throwing on the cut off sweats and T-shirt she was wearing, she hobbled as fast as she could to the front door, almost flinging herself down the stairs in the process. Now, as she sat watching Dean make her a cup of tea, her clit reminded her that she still had some unfinished business with it.

"How do you like it?" she heard him ask. Luckily she caught herself before her present state of mind could answer for her.

"Two sugars and a little milk," she replied, although her immediate response was going to be "If it wasn't for this cast, I'd say doggie style."

"And where do you keep the sugar?" he asked as he brought the cups to the table.

Jenna reached over and picked up an ancient looking Tupperware sugar container. "We always have some handy," she smiled.

As she adjusted herself in her chair, he glanced down between her legs and was treated brief peek up the leg of her shorts. He was glad to see that, not only was she not wearing panties, but also seemed to either have very little pubic hair, or possibly that she shaved, just not recently.

As they drank their tea and ate what Dean had thought of possibly the best oatmeal cookies he had ever tasted, they talked. As they talked, they both realized that they really liked each other and were quite compatible. What was odd for both of them, is the fact that it had nothing to do with sex, really. At least not at that point. They truly enjoyed each other's company, and had just enough differences to make things interesting.

"I should probably get going," Dean muttered, not really wanting to leave.

As soon as he mentioned leaving, Jenna let out a small gasp. "No! I mean, you can if you want to, but I really wish you wouldn't. I-I really enjoy having you here."

Was that a slight edge of panic he heard in her voice? The thought of her wanting him to stay went straight to his young cock. "Are you sure? I mean, I really like you, and I like being here with you, but I don't want to overstay my welcome." He didn't want to leave as badly as she didn't want him to, however, he didn't want to sound pushy. "I mean, after all, we do live only a few houses from each other. I can always come by tomorrow, if you want."

"Why can't you stay for awhile longer, and then come by tomorrow, too?" she asked, a tone of pleading in her wavering voice.

"I'd really like to stay, if you don't mind," he shrugged, giving her a shy smile. "Besides, all I have waiting for me back home is a video game I got for Christmas."

"Then you'll stay?"

Dean smiled and nodded. "You want to go into the living room so you can elevate your leg while we talk?"

"God, that's so sweet!" she gushed. "But, if you don't mind, I'd like to take you up on your offer to help me take a bath, that is, if you're still willing."

His cock twitching in his underwear told him he was very willing. Jus the thought of getting to see her naked was enough to make him want to stay.

"We're going to need a garbage bag and some tape, though," he told her as he helped her to her feet. "We should cover the cast as much as possible so we don't get any water on it."

"That's very thoughtful of you," she told him, her eyes staring directly into his. His face was so close to hers, their noses brushed together, and the way he was holding her around the waist sent shivers down her spine.

"Actually, I'm speaking from experience," he smirked. He then held up his right arm. "I was 12 years old and on that same skateboard that I managed to put myself into a coma with. Every time I went to shower, my mom, rest her soul, would wrap my arm up in a plastic bag and duct tape." He then realized as he was speaking, his voice was getting softer and their mouths were moving closer.

"Must have been painful," she replied, her voice only slightly above a whisper. A moment later she was moaning softly as they shared their first kiss. Jenna had been kissed plenty of times; however none of the guys she kissed had ever kissed her like that. "I really need to get in that tub," she panted, suddenly aware of how ripe she really smelled. She was embarrassed to think that Dean could smell her, too.

As the tub filled with water, Jenna watched as Dean bagged and taped her leg, the whole time catching him sneaking a peek up the leg of her shorts. "Can I ask a favor?" her voice edged with excitement.

"Sure,' he smiled.

"It doesn't really seem fare that you get to see me naked while you get to keep your clothes on, right? So, I was wondering if you would be willing to get naked too, you know, just to keep things even."

"Will you laugh or be offended if, um, certain parts of my anatomy should become, um, extended?" Unconsciously he was already placing his hands over his growing member.

"I think I'd be more offended if certain parts of your anatomy didn't become extended," she giggled, her face bright red. "I'm the one who should be embarrassed, though."

"Why? From what I've seen, you look pretty fantastic." As he spoke, he let his eyes roam freely up and down her body.

"Because," she whined. "I smell funky and I'm hairy in places I shouldn't be hairy."

"So, I'll shave you, if that's what you want," he shrugged. He then pat her on her soft rump. "C'mon, you need to get into the water before it gets cold." As he spoke, he began to pull up her shirt, her breathing heavy as she looked directly into his eyes. "You have gorgeous eyes," he told her as the shirt made it to just below her C cup tits.

"Wait," she moaned softly. "I'll do it. I-I want to watch you undress as I do."