He hated winters in the north. He was a Southern boy, born and bred. How he had let his buddy convince him to watch this old cabin up in the middle of the forest, in the middle of the winter, he would never know. To make it worse, there was no electricity. To heat the damn place, he needed firewood. To get firewood, he had to chop it up himself.
His friend did have an old radio that he used from time to time, keeping up with what few current events that he actually cared to listen to. More importantly, keeping an ear out for the weather. Blizzards were common up this way, and they were bad. When the news reported a bad storm rolling my way, he went out and began to chop up as much firewood as he could.
Not too long into my chopping, he heard sounds coming through the woods, sounds that did not resemble anything any of the indigenous animals made. Setting down his axe and picking up a hot cup of coffee, he watched the woods as a beautiful, young woman trudged through the already nearly knee deep snow.
She stopped, suddenly, when she realized that she had entered a populated clearing. She looked around nervously, apparently she had heard many a tale about crazed woodsmen who preyed on the innocent hikers who stumbled upon their lairs. He stood there, casually sipping his coffee, waiting for her to either come closer or to leave.
Finally, a strong cold wind deciding for her, she approached him. He warned her that a blizzard was coming through and that she was welcome to stay in the cabin until it blew over but she refused, still hesitant to accept the company of a total stranger. He poured her some coffee, refilling her thermos and watched her leave, hoping nothing bad would happen.
An hour later, he was in the cabin as the first strong winds began to blow in. The fire was stoked, slowly warming the room and the stove held a large pot of chili. A bad feeling began to fill him, a sense of foreboding. Cursing himself, he quickly threw on his coat and opened the door, prepared to go looking for her and knowing it would be hopeless.
As the door flew open, blown out of his hands by the fierce wind, he saw her standing there, ready to knock. He ushered her inside and forced the door closed, blocking out the wind. He moved her to the fireplace, hoping to get her warm. It was obvious that she had been caught by the leading edge of the storm and barely found her way back.
He passed her a mug of coffee and some chili which she took gratefully. He rushed into the bedroom, looking for some dry clothes. All He could find was a quilt. Apologizing, He handed her the quilt. He turned his back as she struggled out of her wet clothes, which were hung up next to the fireplace to dry. She huddled under the old quilt, next to the fire, shivering and eating slowly.
There was little conversation. Eventually, she began to doze and he carefully picked her up, trying his best to keep her covered and only partially succeeding. He carried her to the bed, her body partially exposed to his view. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see that one of her breasts had come uncovered as had her clean shaven pussy.
He quickly laid her down on the bed, hurriedly covering her with the quilt and the blankets. He returned to the living room, pouring himself some whiskey from a bottle above the fireplace and dozed off. He woke up a short while later, some sound having intruded into his dreams. Looking up, he saw her standing there, quilt wrapped loosely around her but hanging off of one shoulder, allowing the soft curve of her breast to tease him.
She gestured to the drink in his hand and he pointed to the bottle. She took a slug, straight from the bottle, and then sat down next to him, the quilt slipping a little further. The look on her face was a questioning one. Apparently, she were wondering why he had not taken advantage of her while she had slept. he merely shrugged.
They sat there, in the warm glow of the fire, sipping harsh whiskey and not saying a word. Then she leaned over to him, kissing him deeply as she let the quilt fall away. Stunned at first, but not willing to let such a rare opportunity pass, he returned the kiss, his fumbling hand finding its way to her breast, her nipples stiff from excitement and the cold.
Her hands quickly began to remove his clothing, tearing buttons loose when they proved uncooperative. Soon, they were both naked on the couch, warmed by the roaring fire. she broke the kiss, slipping down his body, taking his nipple into her mouth with a playful nibble. She dropped down, her face directly in line with his hard cock. With a devilish grin on her face, she began to stroke him, then sucked him into her hot mouth.
He groaned as he entwined his fingers into her hair. Her hands roamed, moving from stroking his hard cock to tenderly caressing his swollen sack. He groaned again, fighting to hold back. She saw him struggling to maintain control and he could see the hint of a grin on her face. She redoubled her efforts, seemingly striving to make him cum as quickly as she could.
Try as he might, he could control himself no longer. With an uncontrollable jerk, he pulled her face closer as he shot himself into her mouth. She moaned around him, swallowing every drop, loving every second.
She leaned back with a grin, daintily wiping her lips with her hand. He leaned into her, gently pushing her down onto the old rug in front of the fire place. His lips traversed a path on her body that led from the soft skin of her neck, down to her hardened nipples, taking each into his mouth and returning the playful nibble she had given him before.
Slowly, tantalizingly, he moved down her body. His fingers slid into her at the same moment that his tongue found her throbbing clit. Her moans quickly became louder as the first of her orgasms hit her, suddenly. Her orgasms racked through her, insistently, repeatedly. And he would not stop.
Finally, she had to pull up on him, forcefully, begging him to fuck her hard. And he had no desire but to comply. With one quick thrust, he slid into her, fully. She moaned again. He pounded into her, foregoing his usual slow and tender pace. Pounding as hard as he could, he leaned down and kissed her again, letting her taste herself on his lips.
She began to buck and writhe beneath him, her hips grinding into him almost painfully. He kept up his barrage of thrusts and soon he could feel her begin to climax once more. Her inner muscles tightened down on him, increasing the friction despite the copious lubrication that her body was putting forth. With a grunt that quickly became more of a shout, he tried to pull out. Her legs quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him in as he began to cum. His orgasm set hers off and she screamed as her orgasm ripped through her, a torrent of desire and passion her body was no longer able to contain.
He collapsed beside her, both sweating and glistening in the firelight. She curled up close to him, pulling the quilt over them as they both drifted off to sleep, exhausted and satisfied. When he awoke, well into the morning, she was gone and he was all alone, again. He found a note she had left next to the whiskey thanking him for the shelter. With a smile, he stretched and decided to sleep in...