Across the Breezeway Pt. 04

"You know me," he says. "I always want you wearing nothing. But I don't want you to get frostbite."

The other thing is when Darla exits her vehicle and walks across the parking lot's wide driving lane he'll barely be able to see her because it's dark out and the snow is falling too heavily. He figures his phone's camera, as good as it is, might not pick her up at all. The concept is hot, Darla leaving her Hyundai and coming up here naked, but if he can't see her the risk probably isn't worth the reward.

Darla says, "Well, I'll see what I can do."

==========

Darla looks to the front passenger at her discarded clothes--her jeans and panties and socks, and her boots on the floor. Her body is on fire. She wants Vincent right now, and she wants him to want to get some as soon as she's upstairs.

She imagines herself getting out of her car wearing absolutely nothing and making her way across the parking lot to their building. Another glance at the review mirror assures her that unless somebody else is outside, no one will see her. But this weather is so nasty. What if she slips and falls and hurts herself? What if a car happens to come into this parking lot while she's in the middle of the driving lane? How fast would she be able to run barefoot on the plowed lane and then through the high snow between the cars? Until she gets to the building and upstairs more things can go wrong than right.

Darla looks back over her shoulder, between the front seats and through the back window. She can't see anything out there but the storm and rectangles of lights in the apartment units.

She faces forward again, slides her seat back as far as it will go, then lifts her bottom off the seat so she can pull Vincent's jersey up and off. She drops the jersey on the front passenger seat, and now naked, looks through the back window.

The plow truck seems to come out of nowhere and rumbles past the back of her SUV, scraping snow over the asphalt and scaring the crap out of her. To think that somebody is behind the wheel of the truck, and drove past just a few feet away from her, and she is as naked as the day she was born terrifies her. And excites her. She wishes Vincent was down here with her, that they were in the cargo area of her SUV fucking while the snowplow rumbles past just a few yards away.

She's decided what she will do. She leans over the center console and grabs her cowboy boots from the front passenger leg space. Then she pushes her seat as far back as it will go, lifts her legs, and tugs her boots on. Then she grabs her coat--a knee-length down-filled number with a hood that zips up. After some maneuvering she manages to struggle into her coat and zip it up. She drops her phone into her shoulder bag.

Naked under her coat she feels naughty. Wicked. She imagines that rather than a snowstorm, it's just cold enough out for her to wear this coat. She imagines there are neighbors out and about, in their cars or walking to and from them as she leaves her SUV and walks among them without them having a clue that she'd naked under her coat. They have no idea that as soon as she gets up to the third floor and into Vincent's apartment she won't be wearing a stitch of anything again until Monday morning when she has to go to work. Maybe on her way up someone will stop her and have a conversation. She'll chat with them while they don't have a clue.

Horny, itching to get some, Darla turns off her car, drops her key into her bag, and opens the driver's door. A blast of chilling, grainy snow attacks her and for the moment knocks thoughts of sex out of her head. Wincing and squinting against the storm, she spins on her seat and swings her legs out of the vehicle and hops out and--

Crap.

The snow is so deep next to her SUV that it overspills the tops of her boots and chills her legs and feet. Impulse makes her want to hop back into her car and yank the boos off...and then what?

Anyway, after the initial shock, which she hadn't been expecting, it's not so bad. It's not like she has to walk miles with snow in her boots. From her Hyundai to the stairs of her apartment building isn't that far, just get through this high snow in the parking space, hurry across the plowed driving lane, tromp through the snow between the cars parked at the curb in front of the building and then she'll be at the stairs, which are mostly covered by overhangs and free of snow. Even in this storm it will take her less than a minute to reach the stairs...seconds, actually.

Just seconds.

She climbs back into her Santa Fe, slams the door shut against the storm, fishes her phone out of her shoulder bag and calls Vincent.

He answers with, "Hey Puss, you okay down there?"

"Tell me to come up to you naked."

"Say what?"

"I want to come to you naked."

"From your car?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"I'm supposed to always be naked for you, right?"

"Um, yeah...but this weather. I don't want you getting sick."

"Tell me, Daddy."

After a couple heartbeats Vincent says, "Come to me naked, the way you're supposed to be."

Darla isn't sure if the spasm of excitement she feels thanks to his sexy command originates in her heart or her pussy. Maybe it's both. She says, "Yes, Daddy. I'll be up in and minute," and ends the call.

She slides her seat back again, then shrugs out of her coat and places it on the passenger seat. Next she works her feet out of her boots. She hopes their being wet inside won't ruin them, but it's not a great concern, at least not right now. What's important right now is going up to Vincent's apartment the way she's supposed to be.

As she drops her boots on the floor on the passenger side she wonders if Vincent will watch her come to him. Will he go out on the balcony to watch her walking outside naked in the snowstorm? Will he wait for her on the breezeway outside his apartment? Will her doing this for him turn him on and make him want to fuck the shit out of her?

Darla envisions herself naked on the breezeway, naked as she knocks on Vincent's door, and he'll open it and yank her inside by her hand and pull her back to his bedroom. He'll push her onto the bed on her all fours and he'll fuck her from behind like an animal, like he senses she's in heat and he's just got to have her, right now. No lovemaking, just primal fucking, his male animal using her female animal to relieve himself in.

Because that's what she's for.

Anticipation has her heart racing and her breath quickening as she tries to organize her plan. Ideally she would go to Vincent naked and carrying nothing, bringing her body, which he owns, up to him just as she is. But she might need her phone. And while her shoulder bag is no big deal, her wallet, which contains her ID and bank cards is. Odds are no one would think to break into a car in a snowstorm...or would they? Maybe this is an ideal time to be a criminal, while people are hunkered down in their homes.

Those thoughts remind Darla that she'll need her keys too, which solves her dilemma. If she has to carry one thing, then other things won't matter. She drops her phone back into her shoulder bag, works the bag's strap over her shoulder, then takes a deep breath to ready herself.

Okay.

She pushes her door open, takes another breath, and steps out of her SUV into the snow.

Yikes! Oh shit-oh shit-oh shit!

Having snow fall into her boots while wearing an overcoat was one thing. Standing naked and barefoot in snow almost up to her knees is an entirely different animal. Without thinking, acting on instinct, she places her left hand on the side of her Hyundai for balance and high steps through the deep snow toward the plowed driving lane.

By the time she reaches the back corner of her vehicle she's shuddering and gasping for breath. She squints throw the thick falling flakes and sees the wall of snow pushed to the edge of the driving lane by the snowplow. It's higher than her knees, so she'll have to step even higher to get over it. She lumbers away from her vehicle and pauses at the pushed-up snow, listening. She thinks she hears the rumble and scrape of the truck plowing snow over on the other side of the complex, but the snow has a muffling effect and she's not positive. What she knows is the plow isn't in the lane for her building, so she needs to get moving.

She swings one leg over the wall of snow. Her shoulder bag disrupts her steadiness, and she almost falls. She manages to catch herself by squatting straddling the wall to reestablish her center of balance. Her crotch presses onto the top of the wall of snow. The cold shocks her shaved bald pussy and sends a shiver rippling through her body that makes her whimper. She swings her other leg over in a hurry and straightens up.

Now standing at the far side of the driving lane she feels hyper-exposed. This is scarier than she anticipated, being out here like this. Has it only been the seconds she'd anticipated? It feels like longer. She takes a cautious step forward, placing her bare foot carefully to test how slippery the just plowed driving lane might be. It wouldn't do to slip and fall and bust her butt out here in the storm.

It's not so bad, not too slippery. She takes another full step, and then another, and then a blast of wind-driven snow slams into her, a gust so powerful it takes her breath away and blinds her. The sudden, shocking cold rocks her body and makes her shudder so violently she loses her balance. Somehow she stays on her feet.

It's not a gust, it's a terrible continuous wind, as if Nature has caught her out here and is furious that she would dare and has focused its attack on her for her defiance.

Blind, cold, almost suffocating, panicked, Darla turns around, her survival instinct alerting her that her car is closer than the apartment building and she needs to get back to it, right now...

No.

It's not up to her to decide to go back. Vincent told her to come to him naked. She has no option to disobey him because she was born for this, born to belong to her man, to be his slave, for her body to be the sheath for his cock, the vessel for his cum. Out here naked in this snowstorm she is shivering cold and miserable, but it's not her body to be concerned with. Her body belongs to Vincent, her master, and he is waiting for her to bring it to him.

(To be continued)