Old Man Winter

Jared leaned back in his recliner and sighed in satisfaction. The light from the fireplace and a single oil lamp on the table next to him cast flickering shadows on the walls of the cabin. He saw no sense in turning on any of the electric lights when he was just relaxing after a lunch of venison from a deer he'd shot and dressed himself. Though he was on the grid, he tried to use it as little as possible, preferring to rely on his solar panels and generator.

Only five years before, he'd been suffering through the lowest point of his life — married to a woman who had taken to screaming at him every time he walked in the door. He'd tried and tried, because he at least loved the woman she used to be, but it was pointless. When he found out she was having an affair, he finally threw in the towel.

He was thankful that his father had held on until after the divorce was in progress, and even more thankful that the judge had deemed the old man's inheritance wasn't subject to the divorce proceedings. The absolute fury on his ex-wife's face when she found that out was a memory that always made him smile.

The old man had lived frugally, and done well for himself in his many years of working, so Jared was able to finally realize his long abandoned dream of living out in the woods. The furniture he made as a hobby and his other woodworking projects further ensured his financial stability.

At nearly fifty, he had no intention of going through the hassle of looking for another woman. He was content to be alone with what made him happy, far away from people who tended to annoy him more often than not. With the wood shed packed to bursting and the stacks in the pole barn, he could spend most of the winter simply relaxing and making things.

It was a good time to be inside and warm, too. Nearly a foot of snow had fallen two days before, and it had snowed every day since. Outside his cabin, it was a veritable winter wonderland. He had no driveway or sidewalks to shovel. No windshield to scrape. No miserable drive to a job that sucked the life out of him on roads filled with idiots. All he had to do was watch the snow fall, the fire crackle, and read one of the old western novels from his father's vast collection.

Life was good.

There was one thing he wanted to do though. The CB radio had crackled to life just as he had initially sat down, announcing the delivery of the cuttings from the black walnut he'd cut up when it fell and blocked the gravel road at the edge of his property.

The large logs had already been sawed into live-edge slabs with beautiful crotch figure, and would end up in his pole barn once they had been dried and planed — ready to make furniture. The smaller cuttings from preparing the logs for the mill were now sitting on a pallet out by the road. Those would end up on his wood lathe, to emerge as bowls, platters, or whatever the wood showed him once he started cutting.

He was eager to get them in the barn and into a drying box, but not so eager as to put down the novel he was reading. It didn't take long on a short winter's day for the sun to dip below the horizon, and it was dark by the time he looked up from his book.

Jared chuckled at how he'd let a book that was nearly as old as him suck him in so completely, and rose to bundle up. It was a fair ride down to the road, but the quad could deal with the snow. He knew the trail like the back of his hand, so the darkness wasn't an issue either.

About a half an hour later, he had half the cuttings loaded onto the rack of the quad, and was preparing to return when he saw headlights down the road. That made his brow furrow, as he knew his closest neighbor was out of town, and the road dead-ended a few miles past his property at an abandoned house in the other direction. There was little reason for anyone to be out his way at all — let alone at night in so much snow.

Most likely, someone was in trouble, or up to no good. Neither was something he could ignore.

Jared mounted up and rode down the road. As he approached the car, he knew it had no business whatsoever out on a gravel country lane. The driver had obviously learned that the hard way, as the car was off the road at the bottom of a small dip. The headlights began to rapidly flash as he approached.

He left the quad idling and walked over to the car. A young woman whom he guessed was about eighteen or nineteen was behind the wheel — alone. She rolled down the window a few inches when he reached it, but there was a touch of apprehension in her expression.

She asked, "Do you think you can pull me out? I was going to a party, got lost, and then ran off the road."

"If you're out here, you're really lost, miss. I don't think I'm going to be able to pull you out of this dip with the quad."

"Do you have a truck or anything?"

He shook his head. "Closest one is three miles away, and they're out of town."

"Do you have a phone? I don't have any bars."

Again, he shook his head. "With the Robertsons out of town, it's eight miles to the nearest phone."

"Oh my god," she muttered, and leaned her head against the window.

There really wasn't another option, so he sighed and said, "There's no way you're getting out of here tonight, miss. I can gas up and ride over to the Smith's in the morning to call you some help, but you may as well come to my place until then. I can try the CB, but I'm not holding my breath for that to raise anyone."

"I... I don't know..."

"I've got a spare room and heat, which is better than you'll have as soon as you run out of gas. You'd freeze to death out here in that car."

She obviously came to the same conclusion he had, because she said, "I guess."

"You have a coat?" he asked.

She reached into the back seat and retrieved a coat that he was sure was what every pretty girl was wearing, but wouldn't cut the wind for shit. On top of that, she was wearing tights. She wasn't even dressed warmly enough to walk more than a few feet from her car — let alone what she had in front of her.

"Go ahead and shut off the car, put that on, and get anything you need. You don't have to worry about anybody breaking into the car, because nobody is going to be around. I'll give you my coat, because you'll be an ice cube by the time we get there otherwise. My name's Jared Oldman."

The girl looked as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but responded, "Trisha Winter," once she shut off the car.

While she put on her coat, he took off his. His fleece-lined bibs and flannel would keep him warm enough on the ride home — if not pleasantly so.

She picked up her purse once she had her coat on, took one last, nervous look at him, and opened the door.

Jared held out his coat as he saw her shivering in the wind. "Put that on, Miss Winter."

She took it eagerly as she turned to face away from the biting wind. It reached nearly to the back of her knees and hung on her petite frame as if she was little more than a coat hanger, but it would keep her warm.

"I've never b-b-been on one of t-t-those," she chattered.

"I'll take it easy. Here. Take these gloves too. You can hold on to the rack behind you."

The gloves didn't fit her any better than the coat. Jared led her over to the quad and brushed the snow off the seat. He then showed her where to step, where to sit, and where to hold on, before mounting up himself.

He could almost feel her fear as he revved up the engine and turned around for home. When he turned off onto the trail, he heard her say something, but couldn't make it out over the engine and the wind.

"You'll have to speak up. Couldn't hear you," he shouted.

"You live back here?"

"It's not too far. Keep that hood up and lean toward me to keep the wind out of your face."

When they arrived, he once again left the quad idling, and offered a hand to help her climb down. The look on her face spoke volumes. He had to admit that if the situation were reversed, he probably would have heard Deliverance banjos playing himself.

"Let's get you in out of the cold, and then I'll go park this," he said, and then led the way to the door of the cabin. Once he let her in and the warmth washed over her, relief mingled with the concern written in her expression.

"Go have a seat by the wood stove. That will warm you up in no time," he said while turning on the lights. The concept of living off grid as much as possible would probably be lost on her.

"Thanks. Oh, here," Trisha said as she pulled off the gloves.

Jared took them, his coat, and put both on. "Just going to park the quad and unload the wood off the back."

She nodded and moved toward the stove as he'd suggested.

When he returned from unloading, she'd shrugged off her coat. For the first time, he noticed the rather prominent swell in the front of her sweater. She was petite, with large breasts for her frame, and the tights left little to the imagination. Long dark hair framed her stunning features. Knowing she was already nervous, he only allowed himself a second to admire her.

"I can't believe you leave the door unlocked." She gestured at the chair she was sitting in. "This must have cost a fortune."

"Halves on the log and a few hours in the shop," he said as he took off his gloves and tucked them into the pockets of his coat.

"Huh?"

"The wood is off my property here. The man who saws the logs up keeps half of the slabs. I get the rest, and made that chair in my shop out back."

"Wow. You made this?"

He hung up his coat and nodded. He then pointed out other things while unzipping his bibs. "That. The kitchen table and chairs. All the tables and cabinets over there. That bowl the walnuts are in. It's what I do. I tend to keep the best pieces for myself."

"You're really good."

"I get by," he said as he continued to peel off layers. "It's mostly that I have good wood out here, and a man who knows how to saw it. Where were you headed when you got turned around, anyway?"

"Atkin's Lodge."

He nodded. "You turned one road too early. Surprised you got out this far, though."

"I didn't see anywhere to turn around once I realized I was going the wrong way. That's what I was trying to do when I got stuck."

"Well, I'll head over to the Smith's tomorrow and get someone to come pull you out." He pointed at the hall. "Bathroom is the first door on the right, and the spare bedroom is the second. If you need an extra blanket, there's a couple in the closet in there. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," Trisha said and offered him a smile that made her look even more stunning.

Something about the way she was looking at him felt off. She didn't look nervous any longer — that was certain.

"Your room the one on the left?" she asked while standing up.

Though he found the question strange, he nodded and answered, "Yes."

His eyes widened when she strutted toward him with her hips swaying.

"I really want to thank you for helping me out," she said in blatantly seductive tones as she approached.

"I... uhm... Couldn't just leave you stuck," he responded. Not sure what to do, he stood his ground.

"You could have, but you didn't." She stepped forward, well within the bubble of his personal space. "So, let me thank you."

He stiffened in shock when her hand slipped between his legs and she giggled. He cleared his throat and said, "Miss Winter..."

Before he could think of what to say after that, she said, "I don't know why, but you calling me that is turning me on."

Holy shit, he thought. Alarm bells were ringing loudly in his head, and he said, "You don't have to do anything like that. I'm at least twice your age."

Trisha let out a brief moan and said, "I know. I've got a thing for older guys." She reached up with her other hand and caressed his cheek. "That beard is so sexy. I was hoping to hook up at the party, but this is much better."

Quite naturally, blood started rushing down below, and a quiet grunt escaped him. "Are you being serious right now?" he asked.

She took a step back and answered not with words, but by lifting her sweater and pulling it over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath, leaving him staring full on at her naked young breasts.

"What do you think?" she asked, and then giggled while reaching down to grasp his wrists.

The moment she put his hands on her tits, there was no turning back. "Ah, lord," he said as he squeezed the firm globes. Her nipples were stiff and poking at his palms.

Trisha moaned as she released his wrists and put her hands to work on the fastenings of his jeans. Jared continued to knead and caress her firm breasts with a level of enthusiasm he hadn't experienced in closer to twenty years than ten. Only a few seconds later, her fingers curled around his cock.

"You can't tell me you don't want to when you're this hard," she said while stroking her small, soft hand up and down his turgid flesh.

He was more than a little surprised by that himself. He'd had some difficulty the last few years getting it up and staying hard. Apparently, having a real woman for inspiration instead of a masturbatory fantasy made all the difference in the world.

She caught his gaze — which was no easy task with those gorgeous tits right in front of him in his hands — stuck out her tongue to the corner of her upper lip, and let out a smug-sounding chuckle. Then she grasped his pants, and started to slowly sink down away from his eager hands.

Trisha pushed his pants down as she lowered herself to her knees, leaving them bunched up at his ankles. She pushed the tail of his shirt out of the way, and gave him a long lick up the length of his shaft. Jared smoothed her hair back and held it out of the way so he could see her face as she lapped him.

She switched to several quick licks over the head after that, and had to push his shirt tail out of the way once again. That was sufficient encouragement for him to hurriedly pop open the buttons and toss the shirt away. Trisha slowly ran her left hand up his body to the patch of hair on his chest, while her tongue continued to slather over him.

Jared pushed her hair away from her face once again, sighed in pleasure, and said, "That feels good."

"How's this?" she asked just before engulfing him to almost his full length.

He groaned and his fingers fisted in her hair as her lips slowly slid back up his shaft and her tongue wiggled against it. The moment the ridge of his cock helmet slipped from between her lips, they dived back down toward the root again.

Jared breathed hard as her hot little mouth engulfed him in rapid sucks. Quiet croaks emerged from her throat. Spit dribbled down her chin and ran down his shaft, where it slithered over his balls. Then with no warning, she reached up and dug her fingers into his butt cheeks, and swallowed him to the hilt.

He could feel her throat contracting around him, and stared in astonishment at her with her nose pressed deep into his salt-and-pepper pubic hair. She choked and gagged on the cock she'd rammed down her own throat for several seconds, and then lurched away with a gurgling gasp.

"Jesus," he exclaimed, not really believing that any woman did that willingly, except in a porn film. Yet there she was, on her knees in front of him. It was nothing he ever would have considered exciting, until it actually happened.

Trisha spit gobs of thick, foamy spittle onto his cock, and then stroked it with her hand while she sniffled and swallowed. She looked up at him with drool hanging from her chin and asked, "Like that?"

He couldn't deny how arousing it had been, and answered, "Yeah."

She leaned back in, gave him a few quick, hard sucks over a couple of inches of his cock, and then looked back up to ask, "Do you want to fuck me?"

"Fuck yes."

Trisha chuckled, gave the head of his cock one last, teasing lick, and then lifted his pant leg so she could reach his boot. It only took a few seconds of trying to remove his boot while his shins and ankles were entangled in denim to realize it wasn't going to work. They were near his recliner, so she said, "Sit down."

Jared sidled over to the chair as quickly as his encumbered legs would allow. He wasn't particularly enamored of sitting in his favorite chair bare-assed. The sight of her half naked and moving with him was more than enough to overcome his qualms. Once he was seated, she quickly dispensed with the last of his clothing.

She stood — wearing a sultry grin — and then turned to face toward the fire. Her ass looked astounding in her hot pink tights. She lifted her left foot, and then looked back over her shoulder at him. He didn't need to be told to slip off her cute little boot, and then her sock. Once both her feet were bare, she bent over low, thrusting her sexy ass toward him, and began to peel down her tights. Her panties went down with them — not that they would have covered much of anything if she'd left them on. He got his first look at her little pink pussy as she stepped out of her tights. She gave her ass a smack as she straightened, and then she turned to face him.

A dark little triangle of neatly trimmed hair pointed to the smooth shaven treasure below. As much as he'd believed he was content without sex, the sight of her had his mouth watering, and his cock throbbing. Trisha cupped her breast and squeezed it while sliding her other hand down her flat stomach. Her back slightly arched and she gasped when she pushed two fingers into the cleft between her legs.

Jared was quick to rise a moment later when she beckoned him with fingers that glistened in the light from her wetness. She sucked her fingers clean as he stood. She then turned and bent over to place her hands on the end table next to his chair.

"Take me. Fuck me. I need you inside me," she said in a breathless voice while turning her head to track his progress.

A quiet growl accompanied the chill that shot up Jared's spine when he settled his hands on her hips. A slightly louder one escaped him when he nestled his cock in the warm cleft between her buttocks.

"Give it to me. Now. Fuck me," she said with a touch of desperation creeping into her voice.

It had been a while, but some things come naturally. Jared took his cock in hand, pushed down on it, and felt her wet heat against the tip.

Trisha's mouth dropped open, her brow furrowed, and she groaned when his cock slid inside her. Jared grunted from the sensation of her hot, slippery walls caressing his cock. She was virgin tight, and absolutely soaking wet. A sigh of satisfaction escaped her as she let her head drop down.

"Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!" she moaned in bursts as he pumped his hips.

Aroused beyond belief, Jared fucked her tight young pussy with deep, steady strokes. He'd never been with a woman so vocal, and could barely remember the last time he'd had such a spontaneous encounter.

"You feel so good," he said as his eyes roamed over her lithe body bent over in front of him.

She balanced on one arm and reached between her legs with the other. "Fuck me. Make me come," she begged.

He could feel her fingers working her clit and he growled, wishing he could see it as well.

"Spank me," she suddenly demanded.

Caught up in the moment, he lifted his hand from her hip and gave her ass a smack. Once again, he was surprised by how much it excited him. Rough sex had never been something he found arousing.

"Harder," she demanded.

He slapped her ass again, feeling the momentary sting in his palm from the force of the blow. The yelp that escaped her was thrilling, and made him shiver.

It wasn't enough. Her voice louder and even more insistent, she cried, "Harder!"

The sting in his hand was more than momentary when he spanked her hard. The blow left an angry red mark on her perfect little ass, and she screamed.