Warming Up

I looked out the window. Damn, there was a lot of snow out there! My favorite weather man, the tall, sexy one on channel seven, had said that we would wake up to about three or four inches of snow. By my estimate, looking at the snowbank that had formerly been my car, we had over twice that. And the snow showed no signs of stopping.

No point getting out of my pajamas. I worked for a private school that specialized in children with autism, and we were closed whenever the public schools in the same town were closed. Given the current view outside my window, I doubted any public schools in my part of the state would be open. As I put my kettle on to boil water for coffee, my phone rang; a glance at the caller ID confirmed my hunch, since the call was from one of my coworkers. I didn't bother answering; she would never stop talking if I did. Instead I let the machine get it. "Hi, Colleen," my coworker chirped. "This is Cilla. Just letting you know we're closed. Have a good day."

I wasn't sure how good a day I'd have, trapped in the house. I would have to shovel my way out, which would be a bitch. I'd had a snowblower once but had sold it over the summer when I'd needed money for car repairs. For the work I did, I didn't get paid much.

Once the water had boiled, I sat down at my computer with a hot cup of coffee and checked emails. Nothing interesting, which was no surprise; just a bunch of offers for credit cards, Nigerians begging for money, and offers to "make thousands a week working from home". I deleted all of them except the Nigerian ones; those were funny, and I tended to hold onto them for when I needed a laugh.

By midmorning, I'd done absolutely nothing productive, and the snow outside had grown deeper by a couple inches. Damn it, I was going to have to shovel before it got so deep I couldn't handle it. I trudged upstairs and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a bulky sweater over my pajamas, then went back down and bundled up for my trip outside.

I kept my shovel on my front porch, which had a roof so didn't usually get much snow. But wind had blown the snow onto the porch, and the shovel was covered by about four inches of the stuff. I yanked it out and started shoveling off the porch. The mail carrier tended to complain if there was even a tiny patch of white stuff on the porch or stairs.

The sounds of snowblowers came at me from all directions. Almost all my neighbors owned one; it was the kind of neighborhood where the way one's yard looked indicated one's character. I could only hope that one of my neighbors might take pity on me and at least snowblow the end of my driveway, where a wall of snow that looked nearly three feet high awaited me, having been pushed up by the city plow. I wasn't looking forward to trying to chip my way through that.

Sure enough, as I reached the bottom of my front steps, Gary, my neighbor from across the street, came over with his snowblower. He waved at me and started making his way through the snowbank. I waved back and started on my car, using the shovel to pull the snow off the roof.

I probably could have gone inside; there wasn't much point to my standing out there freezing once I got the car cleared off. Gary was still working on my driveway, but he wouldn't have minded if I'd gone in. Still, he was helping me out and I felt guilty about the idea of just walking off on him, so I stayed outside, making sure my front steps were absolutely clear and debating cleaning off the back steps and porch even though I almost never used them.

Finally, Gary shut off his snowblower. Leaving it at the end of the driveway, he came over to me. "Looked like a mess," he said. "I hope you don't mind my helping out."

"I don't mind at all," I said. "It would have taken me all day to get through that."

"Probably. Of course, the plow's going to come by again and just put it back, but it might not be as bad now that that's cleared."

"Right." On impulse, I asked, "Would you like to come in for coffee to warm up?"

Gary just lived across the street. He could easily have gone into his own house to warm up. But he was in the same position I was: divorced, living alone though he had college-age kids that descended on his place during weekends, and probably pretty lonely sometimes. He said, "Sure, but I don't drink coffee. Got any hot chocolate?"

"Absolutely. Come on in."

He followed me inside, and was polite enough to take off his snow-covered jacket and boots at the door rather than tracking in. His pants were coated with snow as well, but of course he left those on. What was he wearing under them? Realizing what my mind was doing, I blushed and hurried into the kitchen. "Do you want your hot chocolate with water or with milk?" I asked.

"Milk. Water makes it taste, well, watery."

I laughed. "Good point."

I poured some milk into a saucepan and set it to boil, then, without thinking, skinned out of my sweats. After all, I was wearing my pajamas underneath; nothing to be ashamed of. But of course Gary didn't know that. When I turned to look at him, his eyes were wide. "Um, sorry," I said.

"Don't be, unless you're sorry you've got something else on," he replied.

I laughed. "Yeah, somehow I think seeing me naked would kill your appetite for hot chocolate."

"I doubt it. It would just give me more of an appetite for something else."

Huh? I stared at him. Surely he couldn't be propositioning me. I'd never thought about any of my neighbors that way; the neighborhood seemed too strait-laced. And it wasn't a good idea to play where you live. But Gary was definitely thought-worthy. Tall, graying brown hair, blue eyes with crinkles at the sides. A stark contrast to my own short, chunky body and dirty blonde, stick-straight hair.

I found a spoon in my dish drainer and stirred the milk. "I'm serious, Colleen," Gary said. "I find you very attractive."

"Um, you do?"

"Yes." He came closer, almost close enough to make me uncomfortable. "In fact, after the hot chocolate's ready, I'd like to talk about another way to warm up."

"Oh." What else could I say?

I left the milk to heat while I dug out a couple of not-too-chipped coffee mugs and two packets of instant hot chocolate. I wasn't into the fancy stuff, since it was usually just me. At least the instant mix had those mini-marshmallows.

"The milk's steaming," Gary observed.

"Oh. Thanks."

I took a pot holder out of the drawer where I kept them and picked up the saucepan, then tried to pour the milk into the mugs. With Gary's intent gaze on me, I was too nervous to keep my hands steady; milk slopped onto the counter. When I tried to get a better grip on the pan's handle, the pot holder slipped. "Ouch!" I yelped as my hand touched the hot metal.

"Here, let me get that." Gary reached for the pan. His hand brushed my breast, which I would have thought was an accident if not for the conversation we'd just had. As it was, I was convinced he'd done it on purpose.

I set the pan down on the counter and turned on the cold water tap to run over my burn, which was already stinging. So much for impressing my neighbor. I stuck my hand under the water, but it didn't give me much relief.

Gary finished pouring the milk, then took a piece of paper towel and mopped up what I'd spilled. I shut off the water and studied my hand. The burn was almost definitely going to blister, damn it.

"Are you okay?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Pretty stupid thing for me to do."

"Not stupid at all. Let me see."

He took my hand and looked at the burn, then gently kissed it. With a slight flick of his tongue. "Poor baby," he said. "Come, let me make it all better."

"You just kissed and made it better," I pointed out.

"Yes, but I'd like to do something more than that. And kiss other places." He slid my pajama shirt up, revealing my tits. "Gorgeous."

I was too shocked to say anything. What did he think gave him the right to just expose me like that? We hadn't even kissed yet, and he was already trying to strip me. What the hell? But the tingle between my legs reminded me of just how long it had been since anyone had even thought about trying to strip me. It wasn't like Gary was a stranger, and at least I knew he wasn't already taken. So why not?

He bent and closed his mouth around one of my nipples, which hardened with the touch. As he sucked it, he reached between my legs and pressed his hand against me. "What- what are you doing?" I demanded, trying to sound more stern than I felt.

He grinned. "You know what I'm doing." Then he went on to suck my other nipple.

I gave up trying to convince him or myself that I didn't want this, and relaxed into the sensation of his mouth on me. And of his hand, slipping under the waistband of my pajamas, moving down to touch the moisture between my legs.

I moaned, and Gary winked at me. "I knew you'd want this as much as I do," he said. "So, should we fuck here or in your bed?"

It was like he'd dumped a bucket of cold water on me. "Fuck?" I said. "Okay, look. Obviously you're having fun here, and I'm enjoying it too. But don't you think you're taking things just a little bit fast? I haven't agreed to fuck you. You didn't even give me a choice."

"You're right." He took his hand out of my pants and stepped back. "Sorry. I want you bad, Colleen, and I thought you wanted me too."

"Whether I do or not, don't talk to me like I'm some kind of slut. Try asking if I want to have sex with you at all before you ask where. And try being a little less crude."

"You're right. My apologies. It's been a while for me. May I hug you?"

Great, so now he was going to take it to the other extreme and ask permission for every move. Oh well, it was better than having him ask me where I wanted to fuck. "Yes, you may."

He put his arms around me. Before he could ask, I pressed my lips against his. The kiss grew rapidly; his tongue against my lips, my lips parting, our tongues playing together. Gary's hands found my tits and played with them as we kissed. After a moment's hesitation, I let my hand find the bulge at the front of his pants and gave his cock a gentle squeeze. It might just make him think I really was some kind of slut, but so be it; I couldn't let him explore me without returning the favor. He broke the kiss to moan, "Oh, that feels nice."

"So does what you're doing," I said.

"So where... I mean, would you consider having sex with me?"

"Yes, I would consider it," I said.

He laughed. "Tease. Will you have sex with me?"

Oh, hell, why not? "Yes," I said.

Now that he'd gotten a positive response, Gary didn't waste any time. He stripped out of his clothes in about two seconds flat, revealing a muscled chest and abs that didn't quite qualify as six-pack, but came close. Gary obviously kept in shape, unlike me. Below the abs was a cock that, while not huge, was definitely not small.

He looked at me expectantly. "Nice bod," I said.

"Thank you. I'd like to see yours now."

"Um... You know, it's really hard to get naked in front of someone the first time."

"I didn't have any trouble with it. When confronted with a naked female, straight males rarely have any complaints. They're too excited to see the nakedness."

He had a point, at least as far back as my memory stretched. I peeled off my pajamas and tried not to cringe as he ran his eyes over my body. "Very nice," he said finally. "And to think you were worried. Come here."

I took a step toward him and he pulled me against him. His hard cock pressed against my belly, which sent a jolt through a lower part of my anatomy. Okay, I didn't care anymore what he thought. I just wanted what he had.

He wasn't slow about giving it to me, either. He lifted me- he was a good ten inches taller than I was- and ordered, "Wrap your legs around me."

I did, and he adjusted me so that I could feel his cock against my entrance. God, did I want this! But the voice of reason had to interfere. "Um, what about...? I mean, I can't get pregnant anymore, but..."

"You've got to learn to say what you mean," he said. "I was tested a month ago. All clear."

"And I haven't been with anyone since my husband," I said. Sex without protection was dumb, I knew, but it sounded safe enough and I was now too horny to care. "Okay, I guess we're set."

"Good."

He lowered me and somehow pushed up with his hips at the same time, leaning slightly backward to give himself leverage. After almost a full year of having nothing inside it except my fingers, my pussy was so tight it should have hurt when he shoved his cock into me. But I was wet enough that I felt only a little discomfort, and that was quickly swallowed up by the pleasure of feeling a cock again.

In that position, it was hard for me to move, but Gary moved enough for both of us. He thrust into me as hard as he could while holding me up, and I felt like he was just using me as something to pound his cock into. That feeling, which should have made me feel like shit, turned me on enough that I came in a matter of minutes, yelling out words I'd forgotten I knew. He was right behind me. "Fucking hell, you're hotter than I ever dreamed," he said.

He untangled us and lowered me to the floor, where I stood with his cum trickling down my leg. "That was..." I couldn't think of a word. "Thank you."

"And thank you. It's been a while for me too." He glanced at the mugs on the counter. "Hope our hot chocolate didn't get cold."

I picked up one mug and took a sip. "Still fine."

"Good." He leaned in and licked my upper lip. "Didn't want to leave you with a chocolate mustache."

Still naked, we drank our hot chocolate and made small talk. Then he put his clothes back on. I decided to leave my pajamas on the floor until after I took a shower. "I've had a very enjoyable time," Gary said.

"So have I," I replied. Would we do it again sometime? I didn't quite dare to ask.

He winked. "I'll see you next time it snows. Have a good day." He walked out of the room, and after a second I heard the front door close behind him.