Author's note: Every one has their good days and their bad days. This is an edited version of the original Cold Fusion, which in a hurried and frustrating time, I wrote and submitted. My apologies to the readers that enjoy my writing. I didn't deliver my best. Shame on me, and I hope you enjoy this new version. I also wish to thank gotwood49, who has less hair now, because he pulled it out from trying to edit this piece. Thanks pal!
The blowing wind and snow lashed at Clara's skin, trying to rip the windbreaker from her body. She felt herself shivering violently, as she trudged, one foot in front of the other, fighting the urge to give up, to rest. Looking up, she saw it: the light ahead of her. Focusing her sight on that light, she stared at it, rarely blinking; praying that it would not go out; that it would continue to be a beacon for her salvation. Finally, she reached the driveway, and forced her weak legs to move, step by step, bringing her closer to the door that she hoped would give her shelter.
It had been a long night; cold, and boring. As usual, he sat here alone, nursing his beer as another Friday night drifted by. Finally, Jack gave up the evening, sighing quietly he went through the routine of starting at one room, and shutting off the lights. Reaching for the porch switch, he heard a faint sound, a rasping, as if something was grazing against his front door.
She made it. Falling onto the door, her fingers numb and her body frozen. Looking down at her snow-encrusted sneakers and her sweat pants clinging to her skin, she felt the tears that had been threatening to fall slowly begin to trail down her face. Lifting her arm to knock on the door, she realized that she could barely move it, and slumped against the wood. Not fully understanding that her body was shutting down, she closed her eyes and succumbed to the darkness.
Jack opened the door, and found a bundle of wet clothing and frozen limbs falling against him. Scooping the cold figure up, he quickly kicked the door closed with his foot and rushed back to his bedroom. Noting the fire still burning strong, he placed his cold surprise on the bed. Hearing a moan escape from the frozen package, he looked up into a face that, under normal circumstances, would have been lovely. Now, however, all he saw was a frozen woman; a tint of blue to her lips and a face so pale it was almost translucent.
Clara could almost hear something or someone speaking to her. Her mind was trying desperately to hear the noise; to focus on it. Struggling with the need to sleep, she fought with herself, and forced her eyes to pry open. A blurry image rose above her. The figure was large, somewhat bigger then herself. She was able to make out a mess of black hair and broad shoulders. "Soooo... co-o-l-d," she murmured, once more blacking out.
Jack carefully removed her arms from her jacket and tossed it to the floor. Pulling the t-shirt from the waistband of her sweats, he worked the shirt out. Looking down at her face, he questioned whether or not he had seen her open her eyes. He had heard her quiet whimper about being cold, and had reassured her that he would help her. Glancing away from her face, he went back to working on getting the wet clothes from her body. Jack did his best to avoid gazing upon the woman, not feeling comfortable touching her unconscious form. He gently, yet swiftly, lifted her torso from the bed and eased her shirt off her body. "God," he muttered to himself, "She's almost frozen!"
Moving down to her feet, he quickly untied the laces and pulled off the soaked sneakers. "What was she thinking," he grumbled aloud, as he tossed the sneakers on top of the jacket and t-shirt. Next, he pulled off her socks, and began to rub her feet with his hands. It wasn't long before the warmth from his ministrations had been absorbed by her tender flesh. Gritting his teeth, he stood and looked down over her. Knowing he would have to remove the icy sweat pants, he stood for a moment at the side of the bed. Then, steeling himself, and pushing all thoughts aside that he normally would have had when a woman was on his bed, he began to remove the wet material from her pale body.
Pulling the sweats down past her hips and away from her thighs, he quickly pulled them completely from her, throwing them to the side, to land with the other clothes. He looked down, seeing her start to shake and shiver, soft pleading sounds escaping her lips. Then he moved the covers from the opposite side of the bed and returned to lift her in his arms. Without knowing what she was doing, she nestled closer against him, absorbing his heat. "Shit!" he groaned, as he felt the softness of her flesh, concealed now only by her white bra and panties, press against him.
Cradling her, he laid her on one side of the bed, then drew back, pulling down the other half of the blankets. Once again he lifted her, in order to place her in the middle of the bed, and once again she snuggled into him. Biting his tongue and trying not to breathe in the smell of her skin, he repositioned her in the bed, and covered her shivering body. Then he set about washing up her soggy clothes, and hanging them on a rack to dry. Stirring the logs in the fireplace, he added several more pieces, and prodded them with the poker. Jack then returned to the den and loaded up that fireplace as well, before moving back to check on his new houseguest.
Her body was still shaking and thrashing, trying to warm itself. Realizing that he had no choice but to help bring her temperature back to normal, he made a decision. Stripping his clothes from his body, leaving only his boxers on, he climbed in beside her. Pulling her close, he ran his hands over her skin, hoping and praying silently that this would be enough. To his surprise, his own body began to react, as he massaged the circulation and feeling back into her arms, back and hips. Running his hands further down her body, he was pleased at the firm muscles he felt beneath his fingers. Trying to keep his eyes on her face, he watched to see if she would awaken. His hands moved faster on her cold leg, and soon he heard a stronger moan come from her lips. Satisfied that her body was responding to his ministrations, he moved from the bed and walked around the other side. He again gently climbed in, this time behind her. Pressing his hands against her stomach, he brought her frozen backside against his chest and spooned his body into hers. He let his eyes close, as the fires slowly begin to extinguish behind their grates.
She could feel her legs, as the slow tingle began to creep to the surface of her skin. Crying out from the sticking of hundreds of needles in her body, she realized it was only the feeling of circulation returning to her. Clenching her eyes shut, Clara tried to remember what had transpired, and where she was. She pictured the car sliding into the ditch, leaving her stranded. The walk up the road towards the distant light was easily recalled, but that was all. Rolling over in bed, finally letting her eyes open, she looked into the face of a total stranger. "Oh my god!" She thought to herself, "What have I done?"
Opening his eyes, Jack stared into a pair of chocolate ones. This was the first time he'd seen her awake, so he was quite taken with how deep and brown her eyes were. He could tell by her surprised expression that she didn't remember where she was, or how she'd gotten there. When she made a quick slide to move from the bed, his arm snaked around her waist keeping her there. Immediately, she began thrashing and clawing at him. "Settle down," he said quickly. "I'm not planning on hurting you. I'll explain." He had to continue holding her, because she refused to listen to him. Seeing what her intentions were, seconds before she was able to act them out, he quickly moved on top of her, before she could sink her teeth deep into his shoulder.
"Get off of me, you ass!" Clara demanded, trying to pull her arms from the iron hold he had on her. It was at that moment that she realized he wore a pair of boxers, and that she still had her bra and panties. Granted, this didn't set her completely at ease, but it was enough for her to question his motives for having her there. She calmed, momentarily. "Explain, please," her steely voice told him. Listening to his explanations, she felt her mind accept his story as truth, realizing that this was something that sounded very plausible. Her mind and body relaxed, then, and as he recognized this fact, he removed himself from her and the bed.
"Now, I'm Jack, and you are?"
"Nice to meet you." He extended his hand to hers, and was once again reminded of the feel of her soft skin. Taking a moment longer then was necessary, he held her hand in his before moving to the other side of the room. Picking up her clothes and handing them to her, he told her, "I washed these up for you. I'll get us some breakfast and you can tell me how you came to be trapped out there in clothes meant for spring, not winter." Winking at her, he left the room, allowing her the privacy to get dressed.
Jack restarted the fire in the den, before heading to his room and taking a hot shower, hoping that the new thoughts and images of the lovely woman in his bed would subside before he embarrassed himself. When her eyes had opened, and he had gotten the first real look at her, he was struck by the flash of anger that only added brilliance to her features. He had taken the few moments between her outrage and his being on top of her, to notice her pouting lips, and how she felt underneath him. Her body was fit, but not tiny. He liked the average size of her. Toned and healthy, her body had spoken volumes to him, and he had admired the heaving of her breast as she thrashed beneath him.
Clara emerged from the bedroom and breathed in the strong aroma of coffee and bacon. Her long hair hung down her back, somewhat damp from her shower. She had repeatedly washed it, after releasing the long auburn braid from its confines. Following her nose to the kitchen, now, she leaned against the doorway. Observing the man who had not abused her, as she first had feared, she watched him move freely around the room. Clara checked out the other rooms, and noticed no other person in residence. Running her fingers over the mantle-piece, she smiled at the old black and white photos of a young couple. Their love was reflected in their smiles as they posed in front of what, she believed, was the same log cabin she now found herself in.
"Those are my parents," Jack told her, as he admired the way her body looked, standing before his fireplace. It had been a while since a woman had stayed the evening with him. He admitted to himself, that even though this wasn't his favorite way to spend an evening with a woman, he didn't mind having her here with him, now. The morning, like most days, moved slowly for him. Jack enjoyed living in the mountains. He wasn't really cut off from civilization, but he did enjoy the solitude of his surroundings. Sometimes, though he wanted company. Craving it like most people who live alone do, he welcomed this new person into his home, even if it were only for a short time.
Walking over to Jack, Clara smiled up at him. "I smelled breakfast. Need any help?" Her eyes gazed into his, and her lips lifted into a soft smile. "I'll be willing to wash dishes, in exchange for food and lodging." She saw his eyes dance and his mouth grin wide, and her belly did a small somersault inside, as she was struck by how his features softened and became very attractive to her. Pressing her hand against her stomach, she calmed herself and headed towards the kitchen. "Come on Jack, it's getting cold." Smiling to herself she pretended not to hear his mumbled, "It is anything but cold."
"If you'll set the table, I'll pour us some juice and coffee," he said. Motioning to her where everything was, he fished out the orange juice, set it on the table, and grabbed the coffee from the stovetop. Sitting across from her, he poured their drinks, and thought back to the last time he had made breakfast for someone. Surprisingly, he realized that it had been around 3 years ago, the morning he and his 25 year old fiance' had called it quits. He had, fortunately, found out before the ceremony, that she wasn't ready to marry a man 10 years older than herself. Right now, he was glad he hadn't married her, because he knew it was going to be hard to keep his hands off the woman in front of him. Shaking off the memories and letting his thoughts lead elsewhere, Jack started off the morning asking, "So, would you like to explain why you happened to be out and about during that nasty storm?"
Clara rolled her eyes and settled back into her chair. "I hadn't planned on skidding off the road, in the middle of a blizzard. I had been working out at the gym when the storm hit. I hadn't even planned on being outside, except for running in and out of the car, so not really feeling like dressing in layers, I just tossed on my workout clothes. As you know, the snow just slammed in quicker then they expected. My car skidded on the ice, and here I am. Sorry, Jack, nothing exciting here." Waving off her excuse for not being more prepared she rose from the table and gathered the remaining leftovers, stored them in the fridge, and moved to grab the dirty dishes.
Jack gripped her wrist as she lifted his plate from his place. "I think you're wrong about nothing being exciting here." His green eyes took on a warm look, as he let his eyes roam over her body, this time allowing them to take in what he had found so distracting last night. He had worked very hard at not caressing her, only allowing her to snuggle up against him, absorbing the heat of his body. Now, he had a hard time not touching this hot young lady, who had brought a spot of life into his quiet world. Feeling the strain of his cock as he took in the chocolate eyes, firm breasts and full hips, he chuckled to himself. His own thoughts distracting him, he slowly pressed a kiss against her hand before releasing her.
Clara, stunned by his kiss and the hungry look in his eyes, took the dirty dishes and placed them in the sink. Running the hot water, allowing it to build up the suds, she stared out the window, noticing how thick the snow was, and how beautiful the woods surrounding Jack's home were. "You have a lovely place here, Jack. I envy you," she said, distractedly. All through breakfast she had watched his eyes, as they traveled over her breasts, and she had been surprised by how much she had enjoyed it. Then her own thoughts had started to creep in, and she had remembered a few things from last night, notably, the warmth of a nice body against hers, and soft gentle words of compassion whispering into her hair. Clara hadn't felt that much at peace in a man's arms since the death of her husband 5 years ago. Now, at the young age of 35, she knew she wanted to feel that way again, even if it were just for one moment.
Turning from the sink, she slowly walked towards him, her eyes telling him what her body could not. She sensed that he knew what she wanted, as his chair scooted back and he opened his lap for her. Settling onto his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her tongue slid across his lips as she slowly used it to penetrate his mouth. She felt the thrill inside her; the erotic sensation of holding a stranger, being able to force her need of release on him, and knowing he'd answer the call. Her body hummed as she felt his tongue tangle with hers, and she recognized his need to have his own passion and lust fulfilled.
Jack pulled her tight and pushed his cock hard against her hip, showing her that he wanted her as much as she did him. Pushing his hand through her hair, curling his fingers in it, he pulled back her head and pushed his tongue deeper into her sweet mouth. Sliding a hand up her shirt, he grasped the lacy bra, remembering the look and feel of it from the night before. Pulling and lifting it from her, he released one breast. It fell into his hand. Cupping it, he stroked the nipple with his thumb.
Clara moved her hand down his chest, squeezing it in between her hips and his arousal. Putting pressure against the length of him, wanting to feel him inside her; needing to. Her nipples ached and her breasts felt heavy, each one longing for his touch. Full of passion, her hand moved to work free the button and zipper of his jeans. Freeing his cock from his boxers, she stroked it firmly with her hand. Full and erect, his cock seemed to beg for her, as it jerked in her palm. Clara covered the tip with her fingers. Biting gently, she tasted the skin of his neck, before she sucked it into her mouth. She wanted him. She needed him, and her body would not be denied.
Moving his hand from her breast, he tugged off her shirt and unclasped her bra. With each tremor from her body, Jack felt his own lust growing. He ran his hand across her sweatpants, caressing her ass, squeezing her cheeks, digging his fingers into the cotton. His cock throbbed in her hand, and as her teeth sank into his neck, he used his own mouth to greedily feed from her skin. Sucking hard on her neck, marking her flesh, tasting each part of her, his tongue stroked and caressed. She continued to rub his cock, feeling the heat of her hands on his swollen shaft. Finally, Jack lifted her into his arms and sat her on the table.
Clara leaned back as Jack began to remove his clothing, then pulled down her sweats and tossed them to the side. She looked over his body; at the fine-toned skin, the hard muscles rippling as he reached out to hold her, his hands resting on her hips. "I want you here, Jack. Now!" she breathed. She felt his hands tighten on her skin as he breathed in her desire. He slipped his fingers into the wet walls of her sex before sliding his tongue over her nipples. Lying on the table, she sucked in great gulps of air as his fingers stroked in and out of her. His mouth devoured her breast, his teeth tugging and pulling at her nipple.
Stroking her wet sex, Jack's cock strained against the will he was placing on it, not allowing it the pleasure of the slick honey to ease its passage into her. He licked and sucked on the rose-colored nipple, tasting her skin; loving it, stroking it with long licks and tiny bites. Her hands pulled at his head, holding him close, mashing his face into her soft skin. The smell of her body excited him, and with each pump of his fingers he drove himself, and her, closer to the need that consumed them both.
Clara moved her hand down her body, and wrapped her fingers tightly around his wrist. She looked up at him. Her eyes took in his, noting the deep penetrating stare, and the obvious need to have her. Taking his hand from her pussy, she felt him replace it with his cock, the head of his organ sliding over the moist mound. "YES!" She screamed, as she lifted her hips, begging him to take her. Answering her call, Jack thrust his cock deep into her, moving faster and faster with each ensuing stroke. Her body threw itself onto him, her sex grinding against him, as her hands tugged and pulled at her nipples. His own voice answered each cry of her own, as he drove her harder, forcing himself deeper and deeper. She felt her sweet wetness increase, surrounding him; silently begging him to continue. Growling and sweating, he drew his cock from the warm cave, only to impale it once again.
Wrapping her legs around him, she held him, as she willed her muscles to tighten and squeeze, contracting and releasing his cock with each violent thrust. Clara felt his thick member against her walls, and knew that soon her body would find release. Turning her head, she bit her lip, tasting blood. "HARDER! NOW!" She urged. He obeyed her commands, and soon her body was spiraling out of control. Her head thrashed back and forth as his hands slipped under her ass, lifting her high in the air. Together they drove themselves, his cock filling her; her pussy soaking him. Their bodies were slick with sweat.