The weather forecast was for snow. It was perfect timing. I was going up to my family's cabin for the weekend, to do a little skiing. I had just turned 30 and was unattached at the time, hoping to pick up a ski bunny, or two. (A guy can dream, can't he?) My cousin and his wife were already up there. So at least I wouldn't be skiing alone, if plan A failed.
Friday night, before I left on the two-hour trip north, I popped into my favorite pub for a beer (just one). I took my first sip when I noticed Cheryl walk in. I noticed, because she was the kind of woman that everyone notices. (She was young, blonde, and buxom, but there was more to it than that.) I was a little surprise that she was alone, because not only was she married, but she also had a lot of girlfriends. I caught a huge break when the only bar stool open was the one next to mine. She flashed me an angelic smile, as she sat with a dancer's grace.
When she ordered, I (being a gentleman) told the bar wench (ok, maybe not a complete gentleman) to put it on my tab. (I got another smile from Cheryl and another beer for myself. It just didn't seem like the time to leave.)
We knew each other by sight, but had never really talked. After some small talk, things began to get a little more personal. I learned that her husband was away for a while (they were having a tiff) and that her two boys were staying with her folks. To me it seemed like a good time to mention the cabin and the skiing. She giggled. I figured I was shot down, before I even started, but then she put her hand on my thigh and purred, "I've never been skiing before."
This time I giggled, because I thought she was joking. (Seeing as we both lived in Vermont, and I thought everyone 'round here has hit the hills at least once.) It was also a nervous one, because her hand was rubbing so close to my "package."
Honestly, it took a few more drinks and some rubbing of knees, before she said she would come with me -- Although, by the end of the night, I'm not sure we were even talking about skiing anymore. Since the drinks had flowed pretty good, I agreed to pick her up in the morning. (She had to check in with the folks, anyways. And she said something about an early morning beauty appointment.)
I was admittedly nervous when I pulled up in front of her townhouse, the next morning. I was hoping that a good nights sleep hadn't changed her mind. I was also wondering if I could really follow through with my naughty little plan for the weekend.
As it turned out it, it didn't snow. (Fucking weathermen!) But there was plenty on the ground already for my purposes.
A red sports car pulled up next to my truck. Seeing that the driver had blonde hair, I said a little prayer. Then she opened her door and skipped over to my truck's window. I was floored. Her hair and makeup were perfect. (It was a first. She actually looked better than I'd remembered from the night before.) She was dressed in the colors of a roulette wheel. Her green parka was open, showing a red low-cut sweater (the cleavage spec-fucking-tacular!) She wore a small black skirt, black ankle boots with deliciously high heels, and red tights in between. She certainly looked like my kind of woman. But, I had to know if she was REALLY my kind.
"We ready?" I asked, unsure if I was asking just her.
"Nooo," She moaned. I gasped, like being punched in the stomach.
"I have to change first," she said, looking down.
"Oh, I see," I said, with a chuckle. "But why? You look fabulous."
"Thanks. I just got back from the salon, but I'm just a tad underdressed for...."
"No, it's pretty toasty in here." I interrupted. "Plus, you can change at the cabin."
"Ok, just let me get my stuff," she said, before she skipped back into the house.
After a silent cheer, I got out of the truck and did some nervous pacing. I had spent a lot of time thinking about this woman from a far, and I was still having trouble believing it was all this close. I knew it wasn't love, but I'm not sure I've ever wanted anyone more. I also figured this was my one shot.
She came back out about ten jittery minutes later. I loaded her gear, and then, with a handful of butt cheek, I helped her into my four by four. When I got in my side, I figured it was time to start the test. I wanted to let her know right away just what was in store for her this weekend. First I helped her slip out of her parka and tossed it in the back. Then leaning over her body, I reclined her seat's back a couple of notches, while also inhaling her intoxicating fragrance. She wore a puzzled look. I grabbed her right wrist and slid it behind her lower back, as I did with the other. Reaching across her again, and grabbing her seatbelt, while brushing against her impressive chest, I slowly pulled the belt into place. I ran the chest strap down her cleavage and pulled it tight. She chewed her bottom lip. I leaned into her like I was going to kiss her, but instead I whispered into her ear, "This weekend you're mine, and then afterward, we both go back to our lives."
Just so she knew exactly what I meant, I fondled the sweater-covered breast that was closest and then slid over to the other one. (They felt even better than I'd imagined.) She squirmed under my rough touch, but kept her hands in place, and she never said a word. She only offered a whimper when I traced the outline of her nipple with a finger. I had to pull myself away, and then adjusted my own seatbelt. I sat, and gave her sometime to think. She finally closed her eyes and nodded. (I wondered if she knew JUST what that nod meant.) I put the truck in drive and made my way to the highway.
Once there, I put the truck into cruise control, and, with one eye on the sparse traffic, I turned the other to the lovely creature sitting right next to me.
