For Want of a Snow Blower Pt. 01

I hit the switch that closed the garage door so that no more snow would blow in and went inside. I left my boots on the rug in the mud room, stripped off my soaking clothes down in the laundry room in the basement, and hit the shower. I soaped up and just let the hot water cascade all over me until I was warmed through and my muscles were slightly less sore. I set the shower head to "massage" and directed it on the back of my neck. Soon, my headache was gone, too.

As soon as I stepped out of the shower and cut the water, I heard the doorbell. I had no idea how long it had been ringing, but somebody was laying on it like it was some sort of emergency. I quickly wrapped a big, fluffy towel around my waist and tried not to slip on the hardwoods as I rushed down the stairs. I opened the door and there stood Delaney, still in her soaking coat and jeans, looking disheveled and miserable. I was dumbfounded.

"Sorry to bother you," she said hurriedly, and then she caught sight of me. I stood there on the mat dripping wet, the cold air raising both goose bumps and my nipples. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry," she went on, sounding more embarrassed than miserable now. "I'm locked out of my house! For some reason the garage door opener isn't working and I didn't bring my keys with me. Is there any way I can come in and just get warm?"

"Uhhhh, s-sure," I stammered, "Sorry. Uhhh, go around to the garage and come in that way. I'll have the door open in a sec." She turned and went back down the porch steps and up the walk. I couldn't believe that I had just invited a teenager into the house while I stood around basically naked, but what else could I do? She had really helped me out, so I couldn't just leave her out in the cold. I leaned out and peered up and down the street, but nobody was out and about and the snow was still coming down so hard that I doubted anybody could see us from their windows. I closed and latched the front door and ran through the house to hit the garage door opener. It glided silently up in its tracks, and a moment later Delaney was standing in the mud room shivering and dripping onto the thick rug. "Here, take off your boots and jacket while I run upstairs and put something on," I blurted, already turning to go. I trotted up the stairs, toweled off furiously, and slipped into sweat pants and an old UA sweatshirt.

When I got back downstairs Delaney was still standing on the mud room rug, surrounded by both pairs of our boots, and holding her jacket, mittens, and hat in her arms. Her hair was short and the type of light brown that was almost red in a certain light, but it was wet and plastered to her head. She was dressed in jeans and a crew team sweatshirt. She was still shivering. Both the jeans and sweatshirt were soaked through. I took her things and hung them up downstairs by the furnace, then invited her into the kitchen and offered to make her some coffee. She asked for tea instead.

When we were both sitting down at the kitchen table with cups of hot tea, I asked her if there was anybody she could call to help her into the house. She shook her head. "Both mom and dad are out of town for the day. I called a couple of the girls on the team, but they either don't have a car or don't want to go out in this type of storm." She frowned, glancing out the glass door that leads to the deck. "Not that I blame them. I even tried a couple of the neighbors, but they're all at work. I know this doesn't look good for you," she glanced sideways at me, "but it was this or jogging up and down the road for the next five hours to stay warm until dad gets home."

I stared at her for a moment and then asked, "Could you even do that?"

"If I had to," she grinned at me.

"Geez, I couldn't," I said.

"Believe me, I know. I saw you running last summer," she said, mischievously. We both laughed then, and relaxed. We talked for a while, watching the snow fall and listening to the occasional sounds of a plow going down the road. I told her about Jackie and myself; where we grew up, how we met, and how we ended up in Syracuse. She told me about her family and the team and how much she loved rowing. She was just starting her college application process, and she had scholarship offers from over a dozen schools. She was trying to decide between Michigan and Berkeley.

We had been talking and drinking tea for some time when I noticed that Delaney was still shivering. In fact, she was trying hard to keep her teeth from chattering. I looked at her funny and wondered what was up, and then I realized how cold it was. I was starting to shiver, myself. What the hell? I got up and went into the living room. The thermostat read 58! It was a programmable model, and we had it set to 55 during the day when Jackie and I were usually at work. I had forgotten to reset it upwards that morning, so the heat hadn't been on all day. The house had good insulation and retained heat well, but by this time most of it had bled away. I turned the temperature up to 70, but it would be over an hour before the furnace could get the house back up to normal.

I went back into the kitchen and found Delaney huddled in her chair, arms wrapped around herself, shivering violently. I explained the situation to her and apologized. She told me she understood -- her house had a programmable thermostat, too. She tried to smile, but it came off as a grimace. I realized that her clothes were still soaked through with sweat and melted snow. The poor kid! At least I had had a hot shower and was in warm, dry clothes! That's when I made up my mind. It seems crazy in retrospect, but I felt like I had to get her warm as quickly as possible.

"Okay, get up and go upstairs. You're going to take a hot shower," I said, in as paternal a tone as I could muster.

I half expected her to hit me -- and believe me, that would have hurt -- but instead she just looked up at me, shaking, and said, "Wha-wha-wha-t-t?" Her teeth were chattering so badly she could hardly get the word out.

"Don't worry," I exclaimed, holding my hands up in front of me, "you're safe and I'm no pervert. The shower's upstairs, first door on the right. Lay your clothes out on the floor in the hallway and lock the door. Then I'll come up and get them clean and dry for you while you shower. When you're done, go into the bathroom closet and you'll find some plush towels as well as my wife's bathrobe. It's really nice -- thick and soft and warm. Wrap yourself up and I'll lay your clothes outside the door when they're done. After you're dressed, come back down and we'll see about getting you back into your own house."

She stared up at me for a minute, then shook violently and got up, rubbed her hands up and down her arms a bit, and hunched over toward the staircase. As she made her way up the stairs, I reminded her that the bathroom was the first door on the right. "Don't worry, I know," came her mysterious reply.

The furnace had come on and I was still sitting downstairs at the kitchen table, fidgeting, when I heard the shower come on. I gave it a few more minutes and then ventured slowly up the stairs. "Everything okay?" I called. Getting no answer, I peeked around the corner at the top of the stairs and looked down the hallway. A pile of clothes lay on the floor outside the bathroom door. Her jeans and sweatshirt and socks were neatly folded in a pile, but on top I was shocked to find her bra and panties. The panties were thongs, purple with a little white bow in front and delicate lace trim. Her matching bra lay on top, staring up at me. I hesitated for a moment, and then looked, of course. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I hadn't gotten laid in six weeks! And for the record, it was 36B. Yep, Delaney was a big, athletic girl, and I was suddenly sporting a huge hard on.

I hadn't expected to be handling her unmentionables, but I hustled downstairs and got them into the washing machine on a quick delicate cycle. When they were done I hung up the bra and put the rest on a long, low-heat cycle in the dryer so as not to shrink the jeans. Then I went back upstairs.

The house was definitely warmer, and the shower was no longer running. I went to the stairs to shout up to Delaney to tell her how long it would be before her clothes were ready. Just as I was opening my mouth, I heard the bathroom door open and the floorboards creak as she went across the hall and into the bedroom Jackie and I shared. At first I was puzzled, wondering if she hadn't understood my plan. Then I began to wonder what the hell she was doing in our room. Snooping? It occurred to me that I really didn't know anything about her and my wallet and all of Jackie's jewelry were just laying around up there. As quietly as I could I snuck upstairs, avoiding the creaky third and seventh steps, and made my way down the hallway.

She was standing at the foot of the bed with her back to me, wrapped up in Jackie's warm, white robe which was almost a foot too short for her. Her feet and legs were bare from mid-calf down. She seemed to be just standing there, looking at the bed, and when she heard me move in the doorway she turned quickly, wiping at her face, and tried to apologize. I could see that she was crying.

"Delaney," I asked, my suspicion disappearing, "what's going on? Is everything okay? If it's your clothes, don't worry about them. They're in the dryer and they'll be ready shortly."

She looked at me with those startling blue eyes still clouded by tears. "No, no, I don't care about the clothes. I...It's just that my best friend used to live here. This was her room."

I remembered the Naiks, the family that had sold us the house. They were Indian. According to our realtor they were selling the house because their only daughter had just graduated and they wanted to move closer to where she was going to college. Where had that been? Somewhere in New England, I think. I had met the daughter only once, a small, slight girl with glasses who had seemed very sad and serious to me, but we only met in passing when Jackie and I were looking at the house. I didn't even remember her name. As if reading my mind again, Delaney said, "Her name was Vrinda." This was all she seemed to be able to choke out.

"Were you friends for a long time?" I asked.

"Since we were little kids," she said, looking around the room hopelessly.

"That's why you know so much about the house and driveway," I said.

"Yeah. Every time it snowed the two of us would try to have the driveway cleared before Mr. Naik got home. I spent half of my life here. Your bed is right were hers was, but hers was a big canopy bed." She gestured toward the ceiling with her hands, smiling wistfully. "It hardly fit in the room. When I was a kid I thought it was like a castle. We spent so much time together in that bed...I thought it was never going to end. And then her mother caught us...." Her voice trailed off, and she began crying again.

It took me a moment, and then I realized what she meant. "She was your girlfriend? Your..."

She nodded, sobbing now. "I loved her. She...she was everything! But her parents....they...they were so angry. They were like a sec-second family to me, but they ki-kicked me out of the house, refused to let me see...see her again. They even t-took her out of school and hired a tutor for her f-finals. Then th-they moved away...."

It was heartbreaking. I didn't know what else to do, so I stepped over to her and hesitantly put my arms around her. She stood stiffly for a moment, and then relaxed into me. She was tall enough that she had to bend over a bit to put her head on my shoulder. Her still-damp hair tousled against my jaw and I could smell the scent of Jackie's shampoo and perfumed body wash. At first I just tried to comfort her, muttering that I was sorry but things would get better. Then I realized that I could feel her breasts against my chest -- two soft mounds pressing through her robe and my sweatshirt. They felt so good! I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else, but as I said I hadn't been laid in six weeks! The inevitable happened. I started getting hard.

I hoped that she wouldn't feel it because of the way she was bent over. She wasn't plastered up against me, and she was distracted. I tried not to move, willing it to go down, but all I could feel was her warm body and all I could smell was the scent I had so often smelled when Jackie walked out of the bathroom, as naked as the day she was born. My cock was actually throbbing.

After a moment she stopped sobbing, sniffled one or twice, and hiccupped, then stepped back from me. I tried to turn -- my cock was tenting out the front of my sweatpants -- but she caught my hand and thanked me for being so nice and understanding. I was half-turned toward the door, and when I looked back at her I could see that she was staring at my crotch. She stared for a long time, then looked up and caught my eye. I started to stammer out an apology, but she smiled a half-smile and stepped back. She took a deep breath, and undid the tie to her robe. It fell open, hanging freely, and I caught a glance of the inner slopes of her breasts, her taut abs, and the shadow between her legs. "It looks like we're both...missing something right now," she said, shyly.

I couldn't stand it any longer. Cheating on Jackie had never even crossed my mind, but I was so desperate! I stepped over to her, put my hand behind her head and felt her wet curls. I drew her toward me and kissed her, tasting mint and herbal tea. Her lips were so warm and soft, and I pushed my tongue past them and into her warm mouth. She sucked on my tongue and then pushed back with her own tongue. Our tongues jousted for a moment, and then she slipped hers past mine and probed my own mouth deeply.

I felt her nipples, hard and taut against my chest, and I brought my other hand up under her robe. I ran my fingers up along her side and then around her back, feeling her ribs and the muscles she had developed from rowing. I tried to flip the robe off, but she had her arms around me by that point, her hands cupping my shoulder blades, pulling me closer as hard as she could. We were pressed against each other tightly, my cock pressing my sweatpants into her crotch. With my right hand still around the back of her head, pushing her lips against mine so hard that I wondered how we were able to keep breathing, I ran my left hand down her back and caressed her hard, muscular ass. As we took turns sucking on each other's tongues, my fingertips traced down the crack of her ass and then underneath, toward her sweet pussy. I wasn't able to quite reach the Promised Land, but I felt soft hair and the beginnings of a cleft.

She gasped and broke our kiss. For a moment I was afraid that I had scared her, but she grabbed the hem of my shirt, stepped back, and pulled it over my head in one motion. Then she shrugged and dropped the robe. I like to think that I'm in pretty good shape. I try to eat right, and like I said I spent all summer running every day. I'm used to wearing bathing suits and shorts and tee shirts and not being ashamed. But I had nothing on her. Delaney looked like a world-class athlete. I was in awe. As she came in for another kiss, I held up and my hand and moved back a half step. "Just a minute," I murmured, "you're so beautiful; just let me look for a minute."

She was absolutely sculpted, all taut muscle and smooth skin. Her short reddish-brown hair was still wet, and it perfectly framed her cute face. She had a strong jaw line and no extra flesh under her chin or on her cheeks, making her face look longer and leaner than it really was. Her nose was thin and may be a bit too large, but perfection is boring. Her eyes, as I've said, were big and blue. A half-smile played about her lips and she looked out at me from under her light brows. She was naturally shy and I could tell that she wasn't comfortable being on display, but she loved the fact that I thought she was so pretty. Big, muscular girls don't often get the chance to feel pretty in our society, and that's a crying shame.

She had no makeup on, obviously, but her skin glowed with health and the remains of the summer's tan. Her shoulders were solid, her arms muscular and long, and her hands ended in long, thin fingers. Faint tan lines of a bikini top perfectly offset her smallish breasts. Normally I wouldn't call a B cup small, but on a girl her size they seemed tiny. They were set high on her chest, and her nipples were dark brown and huge, larger than pencil erasers and surrounded by tight, crinkled areolas. Her abs were hard and defined, an eight pack in a V leading straight down to her crotch. The muscles of her sides flowed down and around the points of her hips, setting them off as if they were islands. Her belly button was tiny and pierced, a rhinestone flashing out from its depths.

Her pussy lay in the deep valley of her muscular thighs, and though she didn't shave her bush it was light and very sparse. Her pubic hair was redder than the hair on her head, and I could easily see her lips through it. They were swollen, glistening with need. Her calves were just as muscular as her thighs, and her toes were long and thin like her fingers.

I took her all in in a moment, and my cock visibly jumped in my pants. She grinned as I stepped up to her, placed my hands on her hips, my thumbs out across her abs and pointing to her pussy. She gasped and held her breath, and after a moment I said, "Look into my eyes." She did, biting her lip. I moved my hands slowly upward, feeling the contours of bone and muscle and smooth, warm skin. When I got to her chest I moved my thumbs up and over her breasts and slowly began circling those incredible nipples. I was as gentle as I could be, barely touching them, around and around, and she stared into my eyes as her breath came in quick gasps. Slowly I moved my hands so that they were cupping her breasts, the skin of my palms taught, teasing nipples that were so hard they must have ached. She put her hands over mine, pressing them tightly to her tits, and then after a moment pushed them away and stepped into my embrace. She grabbed me, turned me to the bed, and pushed me backward so that the mattress hit the back of my knees and I fell onto my back. I wasn't even done bouncing before she grabbed my sweatpants, fumbled a bit with the drawstring, and then skinned them off and threw them aside.

My cock jumped up and bobbed in midair. She knelt down on the floor and stared at it, saying, "Oh my God, it's...I mean, you shaved it." Both Jackie and I had always kept ourselves smooth, and despite the fact that our sex life had dried up I guess I just kept it up out of habit. Now I was glad that I had!

"Uhhh, yeah," I said with a lame grin, "anything to look bigger."

"God, don't worry about that, it's huge," she said with some awe in her voice. It's not, of course. I'm only a little bigger than average, maybe a little thicker, but it made me feel like a king anyway.

Grinning like a kid with a new toy, she licked her lips and touched my cock. It was insane how good just that touch felt. She slowly ran her finger tips up and down its length, around the head, and all the way down to the base. Then she wrapped her fingers around it and began slowly jerking me off. "It's so fucking hard, and hot. God this feels good," she said, never taking her eyes off my cock. After a few moments of pumping, she reached out with her other hand and cupped my sack. She rolled my balls gently back and forth between her fingers, still pumping my shaft, all the while staring at my equipment in rapt attention.

If she thought it felt good, she should have been in my skin. Her hands were warm and soft, but strong. She might not have had much experience with cocks, but she used just the right amount of pressure. I felt that warm softness all over my cock, the pressure moving up and down its length and occasionally up and over the head. I lifted my head and stared across my chest and stomach. She was totally concentrating on the treat she had discovered, leaning in so close that I could feel her warm breath on the underside of my cock when her hand went up to the tip. Her other hand kept my balls warm and safe. Her head was cocked to the side a bit, and the tip of her tongue stuck out of her mouth. Once or twice I thought she was going to lick me, but she kept jerking me off, faster and faster, paying special attention to just how my cock reacted to her every touch. Finally, she looked up and met my eyes. She grinned and opened her mouth and leaned in close, her tongue almost touching the tip. God, I was going crazy. I wanted my cock in her mouth more than anything in the world. I could almost feel her tongue lashing the underside, her warm wet mouth cradling my length.