Snow Hotel

I just dropped my friend off at his hotel and was in the car trying to get the willies of us hugging goodbye off of me before calling my husband. Oscar was one of those boys I had feelings for before my failed first marriage. It had been 25 years and I still had that teenage what-could-have-been-feeling every time we spent more than ten minutes talking. Whenever we got together, I felt like I was cheating on my husband because I couldn't keep my feelings in check, like Oscar and I were perpetually trying to click. It made me so itchy I could barely have a civil conversation with him.

Oscar was married, but didn't talk about his wife for probably sad reasons. I had to make the call before I got on the road. It was snowing really bad and I needed to hear my husband's voice, reminding me I wasn't a cheating whore like my ex. I got him on the phone. I told him where I was and that I just hugged Oscar goodnight. My husband, Harry, didn't understand what that meant and even if he did, did not see that as cheating no matter what I was feeling. He'd say, "It's just a hug." And predictably he did.

I was just about to hang up when I saw a flash of light at the end if the road and one by one the street lights went black until I was swallowed by darkness. It was snowing so bad and I couldn't see the exit to the parking lot much less the road. Harry told me to go back to Oscar's hotel room and wait till the power came back on. He knew what the roads looked like and driving at night with no street lights was suicide.

Oscar let met in while he spoke with the front desk on the landline. Their hot water was powered by modern gas and the room had old radiant gas heater that would keep the room from freezing but wasn't super efficient. Extra blankets were in the closet. The power was really knocked out and the road closed. I was trapped.

I called Harry back. He was adamant that I stay with Oscar until the power was restored. I knew why he said that and it made perfect sense except this was the wrong man for me to be doing that. I asked him for money so I could get a room, and he blew me off.

"Do they even have rooms available? How are you going to pay with a dead credit card machine?"

I foolishly tried to sway him with jealously by reminding him Oscar was an old romance. Harry snorted on his milk. Me having an affair was laughable. I hung up so pissed off, Oscar waited till I was settled till he said anything, but I asked him first,

"You tell your wife what's going on?"

That's went I found out Oscar was divorced for more than six months. He told me what happened and while I heard it in his voice earlier, I was too pissed at my husband to notice it. Oscar invited me under his blanket. He was wearing a t-shirt and boxers. He might as well have been naked.

I declined. He let me know the front desk said the heaters would probably keep the room above 50. Dressed in my warmest clothes I was already cold, my shoes wet from the snow. I took off my shoes and took a pair of Oscars socks, got under the covers and called Harry back on speaker.

"Just so you know. I'm under the covers, in bed with my old boyfriend."

They said "Hi" to one another, both amused by my discomfort. I made a point to lay out as flatly as possible that I would have to cocoon myself in bed with a half naked man. Harry mocked my concern, telling me I should drive in the dark until I ran off the road and froze to death.

Oscar listened to me rant. He hadn't met Harry, but he knew and despised my ex and all the baggage that went along with him. We both had a few drinks and were still a little warm, not remotely drunk or anything, just feeling it enough to speak our minds about shit. Oscar listened patiently while I ranted. He did it a lot before, during and after my ex.

I looked at him,

"Did I not just tell him, I was literally in bed with someone that could have replaced my ex?"

When I rant, shit just comes out of my mouth. I waited for his answer. He leaned close and our mouths snapped together like magnets. He wrapped his arms around me and we caught up on the passionate kissing we lost all those years ago. Once my potential guilt caught up with me, we stopped and I rested my head on his chest. He nuzzled my hair.

"You know I've wanted to hear those words for twenty-five years." He said.

"What words?"

"The guy that could have replaced your ex."

Oscar went on about how my ex pissed him off. How I changed for the worse, sadder, less happy after I got married. How he felt the same about me being that could-have-been-girl. Then he surprised me.

"We just kissed. What do you feel now?"

I didn't know how I felt. I was pissed at Harry for not giving a shit about my feelings, but after hearing about my ex and how he changed me, broke me, it sparked all kinds of questions about the path my life took. Like how my cheating ex made me hypersensitive to cheating, broke my internal judgement. The more I thought about it, the number of things my ex ruin or turned shitty grew.

"I feel like kissing some more."

I stripped down to my street clothes and told Oscar to take off his shirt. We made out some more. I laid with my head on his bare chest. The room was ice cold, but I didn't feel it laying on him. I tried to imagine my life without my ex in it, but that train had left station. My ex burned every bridge to what my future could have looked like.

"Oscar, could we make love?"

"If you think I'm going to turn you down as a gentleman, you need to reconsider."

"I'm not leaving my husband. This isn't a sympathy fuck. I'm asking if you can make love to me like you imagined. Like you had replaced my ex."

He giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"I might be able to have the fantasy sex I've dreamed of my entire adult life, but its more likely I'll fuck it up."

Pressure the new divorcée and see how good he is in bed. Doh! I did have an ace in the hole, though.

"I'll give you as many do overs as you need."

"In that case, sure."

I got out of bed, it was cold, and stripped as patiently as room temperature would allow then got back under the covers. He was more nervous than I was. That said volumes about how much he must have thought about me.

We made out more with his mouth on my naked parts. It loosened us both up. I climbed on top of him. He kissed the valley between my breasts. I pressed my mouth to his and slid my tongue inside. He fondled my hair, pulled me closer. I mounted him a little bit at a time till he was all the way inside me.

"You were serious." He said.

"Only if you meant what you said." I said.

Oscar slid his hands down my backside and kissed me, gently at first then more passionately. He rolled me over and spread my thighs. Oscar kissed my neck and face whispering to me how long he's waited, dreamed about making love to me while telling me how he loved me. His passion confirmed what he said was true.

He was so different than Harry. I felt a pang of guilt. I was cheating on my husband. I was a cheater. My ex cheated on me the moment, every moment, he was out of my sight. Oscar put his mouth next to my ear,

"Why didn't we do this—"

He paused to catch a breath. I knew what he was talking about. I was dating my ex and Oscar and I almost had sex one night, but I turned him down. I wanted to be faithful even though I suspected, knew, my ex wasn't. Had Oscar and I done it, I would never have gotten married and almost immediately divorced. In that instant, I felt like the wheels of time rolled back and I was with Oscar that night instead of my cheating ex. I kissed Oscar, felt his mouth trail down my neck. I whispered,

"Take me, please."

Oscar knew what I meant. He bundled me in his strong arms buried his head in my neck and raced to finish inside me. I held on as tight as I could worried it wouldn't happen. Time slowed to a trickle when he reached the pointed of no returned. I felt his shaft swell and his copious discharge. I didn't know what I felt which was a surprise, but I knew I didn't want him to pull out just yet.

"We can just lay like this for bit." I said.

"You're going to have more than a wet spot if I pull out." He said.

I peeked my hand outside the shield of the cover and yanked it back inside. He helped me out of bed and we rinsed off in a warm shower then promptly back in bed cuddling ourselves into a power nap.

"I can't believe you did it." He said.

"Screwed you?"

"Told me to finish inside you. That was my fantasy."

He tried to explain. I knew what he was talking about. I was a cheerleader. I was the cute, spunky girl that enjoyed her vices. I knew what he meant, but that girl died or ran off and joined a circus the day I tied the knot with my ex. Something was different. I tingled all over. Oscar cut to the chase about my husband. I explained my pathological prudishness and jealousy.

"I don't know if I'll tell him. He won't believe me either way."

"You don't seem like that now?" Oscar said.

"I know. It weird. I don't feel guilty which is so—"

I had been playing with Oscar's dick. It swelled to full staff while I was talking . I was thinking about not feeling guilty when I put his dick in my mouth. My ex made me suck his cock in weird fetish ways that made it torture to do. I hated fellatio, learned to hate it.

Everything he enjoyed in bed, he made sure it was chore for me to do. When it was my turn, it was just his turn quicker. Before I knew it Oscar came in my mouth I enjoyed every second of it. He returned the favor and I climaxed in record time, twice.

Before Harry and I had reunion sex, like right before, everything. A tawdry tale of me taking safe harbor with an old friend and and turning it into a night of adultery, swallowing and making love to Oscar bareback, not once, but three times. I fellated Harry to climax, he ate me out after then fucked me silly. Whether he believed me or not wasn't clear. I was only certain he enjoyed the story and the sex.

Oscar and I hadn't talked since I'd been home. He texted me ten day after our affair and I called him back. He doubted I told Harry what happened. I put us on speaker phone and shouted to Harry I was talking to my snow lover. When he entered the room, I told him,

"Oscar doesn't believe I confessed my infidelity to you."

Harry offered me his cock which I sucked while he and Oscar reviewed every detail of the night like checking off a shopping list. Oscar concluded,

"She did say you wouldn't believe this story." Oscar said.

Harry prodded Oscar for details about how I was in bed with sports enthusiast decorum and climaxed during Oscar's wistful recollection. I couldn't convince Oscar that I was sucking my husband off while they talked about our affair, nor did Oscar's memory seem manufactured. I heard only the poignant feelings in his tone.