Blue Snow

"So you just drove into town to get fucked, then come back up here. Explains the late nights."

"What, did you think you were my daddy?" My head snapped to hers after a drunken delay.

"Excuse me?"

"That would make sense. I mean, why wouldn't you? Wouldn't be the first time."

"You're way out of line," I said.

"Am I? You know what, you're acting like my mom more than my dad right now. She would get jealous and be mad at me." She started to cry. "It's not my fault my dad was a drunk mess who would ogle me, mmmm." She mumbled something I didn't quite catch. "It's not my fault my mom couldn't keep his attention. And she blamed me." More tears.

I took a breath, shaken. I reached to touch her arm.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" her face was lit with rage, "What? So you find out I have a boyfriend, and suddenly you've lost interest? Or worse, you're mad at me. You're made at me?! At me?! Who the fuck do you think you are? Perving out at me every time I bring you coffee, ogling me during yoga! What? You like picturing him fucking me? You've seen me naked! I bet you've jacked off a thousand times to me!"

"Stop."

"You like what you see, Mr. Hawthorne? Oh, I bet that turns you on," she said. I felt my blood boiling. Anger rising. "You want to see this young pussy get fucked? Is that what you're picturing right now, me and my boyfriend?"

"Stop."

"Oh, look at that. Mr. Hawthorne's angry. He's angry and he's jealous. Look at you. What? We? We? We'll get a place in the city? We'll travel the world and come back to your cozy little shithole up here in the mountains? Did you really think I could love you? Or was I just going to be your little plaything? In your fantasies was that what I was, your young little fucktoy?"

Before I knew what happened she was on the floor. I felt a red hot heat on the back of my hand, the glass on the floor, liquor spilt. Her hand was on her face, then she looked up at me from where she was on the floor, skirt hiked up, that black lace thong on her hip. She reached for the hem of her skirt, pulling it down. "You're weak," she said. "Little Mr. Hawthorne needs his coffee. Little Mr. Hawthorne can't cook or take care of himself. Little Mr. Hawthorne would've gotten fat and died alone if it wasn't for me!" she screamed.

I felt my eyes widening and I lunged forward, grabbing her by the hair. She grabbed at my wrists as I pulled her up. She was screaming, her eyes squinted with mascara running down her cheeks when I slapped her across the face.

She squeeled, and I felt myself getting hard. "How fucking dare you," I said. "I took you in."

"Took me in? You paid me!"

"I paid you! Now it's time to collect what's mine," and before I knew it my hand was on her throat and I threw her onto the couch and she landed with a thud and a grunt. Her skirt tore at the hem, and I could see the lace wrapping her pussy. I reached down and undoing my pants and letting them drop down to the ground, kicking them away. I had worn my Calvin Klein boxer briefs just in case. "Those are pretty," I said.

"What you think, I did it for you?" she said, sitting up, winding her hand back and punching me in the stomach. She immediately cradled her wrist to her breast.

I put my hand back on her throat as I pinned her down, pushing my face onto hers, my lips to her lips. They were so soft. I wanted to kiss every inch. She slapped me. I grabbed at the neck of her dress and yanked down, once, then twice, tearing at the fabric and she shrieked at me, "Stop it! Damn it, Noah, stop it!" shrill, shrieking. It curdled my blood, but drove me at the same time.

I grabbed her face and turned her head as I put my mouth on her neck, sucking in the flesh, salty now. Salty and sweet as she started to kick at me with her feet, slapping me over and over. I grabbed at the tear, and tore it some more. Another yank. Then another until the tear extended down revealing her belly button, the black lace bra in full view. "God you're fucking beautiful. Her teeth were gritted as she continued assaulting me.

I raised my hand up high, looking down at her, both of our eyes wide with fury. She lifted her hands as I brought mine down, swiping her arms away, landing with a loud thwack across her face. "Ungh," she grunted loudly. She kept kicking and wailing, so I brought it up again, bringing it down. "Ungh," she grunted again before laying still, her chest rising and falling, eyes darting wildly. I looked about, reached down, and picked my cigar up off the floor. I put it in my mouth and started puffing, breathing in the aroma like butter and biscuits.

I took off the rest of my clothes. She had started silently weeping, holding herself. "I'm sorry, Noah. Don't hurt me, please," she said, blubbering as she spoke.

I took another puff looking down at her. I felt the heat coursing through me, my head spinning but alive. "Weak. I'll show you weak," I said as I reached down, moving her thong aside as she wrenched her legs shut. She had grown out a little patch just above her pussy, dirty blonde and ravishing.

I held down a leg and pried my way in. I put my hand on it, ring and index finger spreading apart her lips, looking from it to her face. She kept trying to squeeze her legs shut, when I clenched my jaw and looked into her eyes. She was shivering again with her arms holding herself, covering her breath. "Please, don't Noah. You're a good person. You love me."

Angrily I said back, "I love you," rage still in my eyes.

"Don't do this, Noah. Please. Don't. You're better than this."

"Jason's good enough for you, but I'm not?"

"Jason's my boyfriend, Noah. I love him. We're going to buy a house together."

I felt the world spinning even harder as she spoke these words. Quickly, I slapped her again. Her legs gave way. The skin on her outer lips were so soft. I spread them again, looking down at the pink, teasing her opening with my middle finger, then moving my eyes up to her face.

She had turned away and was sobbing into her arm now. Her chest was shaking, breasts jiggling. I puffed at the cigar first, then with that hand, cigar between my fingers, I reached down and kneaded them through the lace. Even the fabric was nice, but I wanted it all. I grabbed at it and yanked. It lifted her body and she fell back down. "Ow," she cried through sobs.

Another yank, "Stop, it hurts," she said blubbering some more. I was pushing my finger inside of her while holding onto her bra, holding it like it was a handle on a bag of luggage. I didn't know what she was referring to. The yanking or the finger, but I didn't care.

With a third yank, the bra snapped off. She winced before crying some more. "Be a good girl, and I'll show you how to feel good."

She lay motionless. My middle finger inside her, I tried pushing in my ring finger as well. She was so tight, but she was also dry. I started rubbing at her clit. She covered her face, sobbing silently now. I put my hand to her face, holding my ring and middle finger out. "Suck," I said.

Slowly, eyes averted, she opened her mouth. I pushed my fingers into her mouth and she started crying harder, "Suck! I said!" She closed her mouth around it and wet it for me. I pulled it out and put my fingers inside of her.

I curled my fingers up. I put my hand on her stomach, and slowly I started to reach up, reach up right behind her clit with my palm pressing down and rubbing from the outside. "See? See how that can feel good?" I asked.

She shot angry eyes at me. "Yeah. You like that?" she asked. "You like that Mr. Hawthorne. Have you pictured punishing me. You'd like that wouldn't you," she said. My eyes grew wide, but I felt my cock throbbing.

"Yes, I would," I said.

"Then do it! Get it over and done with," she said looking straight into my eyes, tears still streaming down her face.

"Put it in your mouth."

"Blow me," she said.

"You first."

I stood over her and she stared up at me. Then her eyes traced down my body. It felt good, all the hard work I'd put into it over the last year and a half. My chest had started growing. My abs were starting to show definition, muscle peering through, torso thinner. My pelvic muscles pointing down to my cock which had looked bigger since losing weight. "Is that all you've got?" she said with a smirk.

I looked down at it.

"Well if that's all you've got, sucking it shouldn't be a problem," she said, as she started to reach for it.

I slapped her hand away, scowling at her. I rubbed my hand on her face, pushing it down into the couch. I held the cigar and pressed the ember down into the little patch of hair above her pussy. She screamed, thrashing at me, swiping it at, hitting it away as it fell to the floor.

Excitement in my eyes, I let go of her face. Tears were streaming down it as she was screaming profanities at me. I rubbed my hand on her face, and lubricated my cock with her tears. Then I put myself between her legs. She was furious and it only drove to make me harder. With a thrust, I pushed myself in. She screamed in pain, the lubrication not enough for her tight, dry hole.

I would have pulled out, spit on it as it was stinging me too, but it was so warm inside of her. It was so warm as she was so tight, I held myself there and looked down at the sight of me inside of her. Her pussy was gripping at the base of my dick. I pulled out halfway and pushed myself back in. She squealed as I grunted. "Get it over with," she said through gritted teeth.

"It'd be my pleasure," I said back. I put my hand over one of her breasts, the other feeling the smallness of her waist as I started to pump. After a few painful thrusts, a few painful thrusts as I soaked in the pain on her face, I started going slower. Slowly inside her, slowly out. My fingers gripping her waist, trying to swallow her soft, supple breast with the other. I started breathing slow, deep and she did the same. She started to get wet.

Her teeth were gritted as she looked straight into my eyes, defiance in them. But my eyes softened. This was my Jessie. "Jessie," I whispered softly. She pressed her lips into a thin line. I pressed my body against hers as I continued my work. I leaned forward, kissing her cheek. The cheek I had wanted to kiss so many times. That earlobe I had admired for so long. Her neck, kissing it softly, before I gently started sucking on it, caressing the skin with my tongue. I heard a stifled moan.

"I love you, Jessie," I said as I looked into her eyes. They were hard eyes, still. I kissed her thin lined lips. Then again. Then again. "Jessie, please. I'm sorry," I said, and she released the pressure, allowing me to feel the fullness of her lips. In and out I pushed. In and out against her, my hands roving under the torn fabric of her dress, reach down and gripping at her muscular yet firm bottom. She winced with every thrust, and I tried not to rub my pelvis against her.

Another stifled moan, and she slowly, amazingly started thrusting back. She had grown wet. She had grown wet yet she was still so tight, I could feel her gripping me. A grunt. "I'm sorry, Jessie. Please forgive me." There was still a hardness in her eyes. There was still anger, but they had softened a touch as we gazed at each other, as I gazed into her sky blues. I know I would only think of her from here on anytime I thought of the color.

"Kiss me," I said as my hand reached the back of her neck, the bottom of her head where I gently started gripping at her hair. She was panting. The grunts coming more frequently. "I love you. Kiss me." But she wouldn't part her lips.

"Please," I said desperately. Then she parted them. I kissed them. Then again. Then she kissed me back. Our lips lapped against each other's for the shortest eternity, tongues grazing and caressing lip linings.

"I love you," I said again.

She looked down, then to the side, then back at me.

"I... I love you too, Noah. Just this once okay? Then you have to let me go."

Still pushing inside of her, with her thrusting back I felt tears welling in the back of my eyes. "Okay," I whispered.

I took her legs and pushed them together then to the side while still inside of her, not wanting to pull out. Not ever wanting for this to end. Like this, I thrust in and out of her as she looked up at me in tatters.

I pulled out, tapping at her legs, her waist, guiding her on all fours on our couch, and she obeyed my touch. I pulled off the tattered ruins of her dress, pulled down the black lace thong. I looked down at her, bent over like this. Despite all the times I had seen her, I never imagined it could be as sexy, as beautiful as this. I put my hands on her bottom, squeezing at the flesh. She moaned for me. "You like that, Mr. Hawthorne?" she asked.

"I've liked nothing more," I replied. I kept massaging her ass, and made my way to her thighs, feeling them one last time, gripping, holding.

"Fuck me, Mr. Hawthorne. Teach me my lesson," she said.

I held my cock and guided myself back inside, slowly. She was sopping now. I put my hands on her waist, and pressed my hips as deep into her as it would go, the softness against my skin driving me wild.

I grinded against her. I grinded feeling my cock moving up and down and around inside of her, my balls on her clit, my hands reaching down feeling the weight of her tits in my palms. I gripped at them. I massaged them, gripping as I started to pound away. I pounded at her hips watching the flesh jiggle firmly with each thrust. I thrust inside of her. I thrust hard, feeling her pelvic bone milking at the bottom of my dick, in and out. In and out. She was moaning for me. She was moaning out loud, shamelessly screaming, "Mr. Hawthorne. Fuck me, good, Mr. Hawthorne."

I grabbed at her hair. "You like that?"

"Yeah," she said. "Fuck me like I'm your good little servant girl. Fuck me like you've been wanting to all this time."

I was pulling on her hair, pulling her head back as she held herself up on the couch as I pounded away. She was a marvel.

I pulled out and stood up. "Suck me, Jessie. Suck me like you love me."

"You ready, Mr. Hawthorne. You gonna pump inside my mouth?" she said as she got on her knees. She put it in her mouth, pressing all the way down, making me disappear. Her lips were pursed against it, those big plump, juicy lips as she bobbed back and forth. Back and forth, tongue slurping and working my dick. I grabbed at her head and started thrusting.

I was thrusting violently as she was coughing and gasping for breath. I held her head and fucked it like it was her pussy just a few minutes ago. I was urging myself to cum, focusing on the pleasure of her mascara streaked face. But the urge went away.

"Ride me," I told her. She pulled my dick out of her mouth, and bent over, coughing. The sight was exhilarating. I sat on the couch. She got up and put her knees on either side of me before she guided me inside of her.

She rode me up and down. Her tits were in my face, bouncing and jiggling perfectly. Beautifully as she rode. Up and down. Up and down. My hands were on her hips, pushing her back and forth to grind.

"Fuck," I moaned.

"Yeah, yeah," she moaned back. "Yeah, that feels so good. You feel so good Mr. Hawthorne. You gonna cum for me? You gonna let me swallow your load?"

"Get on your back," I said. She dismounted and did as she was told. I pushed myself inside of her, thrusting hard and fast. Hard and fast. Looking into that beautiful face. "Tell me you love me," I said. Hard and fast.

"Fuck me, good, Mr. Hawthorne."

I put my hands on her throat, gently squeezing. "Tell me you love me," I said.

"Your cock's so big, Mr. Hawthorne."

I squeezed a little harder. "Say that you love me," I said, thrusting. I could feel her breasts jiggling against my chest, my pelvis slapping against hers, clapping in the room, her softness driving me wild as the liquor was at the beginning stages of fading. She closed her eyes as I continued to thrust. To squeeze. "Please," I said, almost desperately, teeth gritted.

She closed her lips, and tried to swallow. She tried to swallow and teeth clenched, and she squeezed her eyes. She looked like she was going to cry and through a strained voice she mouthed it, "I love you. I love you, Jason," as tears streamed down her face.

"No," I cried, thrusting. Thrusting and squeezing. I was thrusting and she put her hands around my wrists. She put her hands around my wrists as I was thrusting against her, squeezing. "Noah," she mouthed. But I was in the throes of passion. "Noah, please," she mouthed as I felt it rising. I was so close. I could feel the sensation rising from deep inside of me. It was so big and it was so immense, there was no way to stop it. She had gone limp, but I hadn't noticed. My eyes were squeezed and tears were welling obscuring my vision. I couldn't see her as I held onto her for dear life. I was almost there and she had started to shake beneath me. She was shaking from the intensity of it all as I thrust deep, my cum pulsing through me and into her.

They were slow thrusts at the end. I held on as I milked myself in her. I wanted it to last as long as possible so I milked myself inside of her. Then I released my grip on her as I held her, thrusting slow, pulsing shots of me to become part of her. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you, Jessie."

She lay there motionless beneath me. She was so warm. She was lying motionless as I was still on top of her, inside of her. I gave her a gentle shake to wake her up. "Jess. Wake up." I put my hands on her shoulders and I shook her. "Jessie, wake up." There were still waves of sex coursing through me, deep and intense but also the hot flash of fear shook me sober. "Oh, no. No. No. No," I shouted as I pulled out of her, feeling yet another wave. I started pumping at her chest. I blew my air into her lungs and her breasts rose before falling again. I pumped again through the enormity of her breasts, then blew again inside of her. She was blue. My pale, blue Jessie.

I continued this for what must have been half an hour. I continued pumping away, breathing into her through tears and cries, calling her name. "Jessie. Jessie, please don't go. Please don't leave me." But she wouldn't wake.

Now she's laying here beside me on our couch. She's laying here beside me and she won't wake up. It's been two days now, but she's still beautiful. Pale and blue as the snow outside.

That's what happened. It was an accident. I'm sorry. It was an accident. It wasn't her fault and she was put into an impossible situation. She's innocent. I'm sorry to anyone who's known her. I'm sorry to all my fans, but as you can see, I can't go on. Not after this.

Most of all, I'm sorry, Jessie, that you had the kind of luck the meet a guy like me.

P.S.

Our heroine and her captain fought their way to the top. They uncovered a terrible truth of who had been behind all the strife in the galaxy. They die, hand in hand, to get the truth out, but the truth gets out and both civilizations devise a way to share and reproduce the magnolium that had been controlled by the ones who had been profiteering from the war. That's how it ends. I haven't figured out what to call the true villains, so you can do what you want with it. I'm sorry.