Snowed In

The log cabin was a welcome sight in the raging snowstorm. The blowing snow had accumulated around the sides of the cabin almost to the eaves and it would have been completely buried and undetectable if it wasn't for the smoke curling up out of the fireplace and the flicker of light that shined out through the inch or so of visible paned glass, a heavy-duty generator rumbling from somewhere behind the cabin. Someone was inside and he hoped they wouldn't mind a visitor for the night. He trudged through the snow; his legs buried up to his crotch in the cold white shit and freezing his cock, as he felt his way along the logs of the cabin until he found the smooth surface of the door and hit it as hard as he could with his open, gloved hand.

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Lana stuffed the dildo between the cushions of the couch and threw off the quilt, getting to her feet. It better not be that crazy old Mr. Winters or the other man from the store, she was perfectly fine and nice and toasty warm. But she walked over to the door anyway and since she couldn't see out the windows from all of the snow that had blown up against the glass, she grabbed her rifle from the rack over her coat hook, released the bolt, checked the chamber and shoved the bolt back in place. Locked and loaded. There was a bang again followed by a muffled sound and an even louder thud. She opened the door and a towering navy blue parka clad figure fell face first onto her wood floor, a heavy gust of cold air and blowing snow coming in behind it. Ah, shit.

She leaned the rifle up against the wall, squatted down and grabbed two hands full of the cold, wet parka and pulled, barely moving his prone body an inch. Shit, he was heavy. She drew in a deep breath, pulled again, dragging his dead weight across the threshold as the cold, wet snow blew inside the cabin hitting her square in the face. Another hard pull and he was inside. She quickly shut the door against the wind and blowing snow, leaning against the wood door as she stared down at the shivering bulk of a man lying on her floor, his clothes soaking wet and sticking to his flesh. She really didn't need this, not tonight, but the brainless man had obviously been walking for several hours in the storm trying to find shelter and she couldn't just throw him back outside to freeze to death. She reached up, pushed a stray lock of hair back from her sweaty forehead, mustered up as much strength as she could and bent down, grabbing hold of his parka at the shoulders and dragged him across the floor. She was huffing and puffing by the time she got his prone body over to the fireplace and she grabbed hold of his parka, and using what strength she had left, rolled him over onto his back.

Lana had to get him out of his wet clothes before he froze to death. She ripped open the protective flap over the zippered front of his parka and found the tab of the zipper, pulling it down. She had to roll him again to get the soaked jacket off and she tossed it aside. His head and face was covered with some kind of winter hood and she found the edge of it and pulled the tight, stretchy material up over his face and off his head, revealing a strong, chiseled jaw line, a nose that had a knot on it from being broken one too many times and short-cropped brown hair. His lips were blue and his teeth were starting to chatter, a weak moan escaping him. At least he was still conscious but not conscious enough to help her.

She pushed his sweater and shirt up, working it up and over his torso and then his head, his arms thudding heavily to the floor. Shit, he still had on another shirt and this one was skin tight and clinging to every sculpted, bulging muscle of his arms and chest and abdomen. Whoever he was, he wasn't from around her because no one got muscles like that from ranch work. She tugged the skin-tight shirt from the cinched waistband of his jeans and rolled it up his torso, revealing a set of six-pack abs and V that would make any gym rat jealous, a broad chest with pectorals that should be considered illegal and biceps that could probably crack walnuts. He had a faded white scar on his side just under his ribs and another scar on his chest. A set of dog tags on a metal chain hung around his neck and she lifted them up, peering at the name that was punched into the metal. Lt Comdr Duke McCabe USN. He had a military tattoo that covered his right deltoid and she sucked in her breath when she instantly recognized the eagle, gun and trident that blazed the front of some of her husband's books that she had left on the bookcase. The man was a goddamn Navy SEAL. He started shivering uncontrollably.

Lana quickly moved down to his feet to untie the cold, frozen laces of his boots, pulling off one and then the other, panting from the effort. She didn't get this much of a workout chasing her second grade class around the playground. She shoved her hair out of her face, it was damp with sweat, and quickly moved up his body. Her fingers were cold and the metal of his belt buckle made it even worse but she managed to get the freezing cold metal fastening undone and then the button and zipper. She pulled the heavy weight of the sodden, flannel lined denim down his legs and free of his feet. Shit. He had on skin-tight bottoms, too, the material adhering to his strong claves, hard, well-muscled thighs and the massive bulge between his legs.

She drew in a deep breath, curled her fingers under the waistband of his tight leggings and tugged and rolled them down his long, muscular legs. Her eyes were instantly drawn to his groin, more so to his cock and scrotum that were a light shade of blue from his loss of body heat. His testicles had drawn up to his body for protection and his cock was lying there exposed. It was at least seven inches long, a lot longer than her husbands had ever been and thick and she felt an instant throbbing ache deep inside her pussy as her juices started to flow, making her dripping wet and soaking into the crotch of her pajama bottoms a lot faster than the erotic words in her books did. She wanted to reach out and touch his fine piece of man meat, heft its unfamiliar weight in her palm but she didn't. The last thing she needed was to get in trouble for molesting an unconscious man.

She grabbed the heavy quilt from the couch, folded it in half and covered his shivering body with it. She put another log on the fire and gathered up his wet clothes and threw them into the dryer. She lifted up the corner of the blanket and crawled underneath it, climbing on top of the bulk of his body to press the full length of her flannel clad body to his cold, naked one in an effort to get his body temperature back up to normal. She pulled the edge of the blanket up around his head and rested her cheek on his chest, listening to his shallow breathing. She closed her eyes. This could possibly be the worst, or the best, night of her life.

Lana didn't know how long she had been sleeping but when she felt him start to stir beneath her, heard his weak moans, her eyes popped open and she quickly moved out from under the blanket and gently stroked the side of his face with her palm in an effort to keep him composed. "You're safe," Lana whispered, reassuring him. "You're in my cabin." She pulled the blankets up tighter around his broad shoulders and his eyes opened and she found herself staring down into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She sucked in her breath. "Just keep covered up. Your clothes are in the dryer. Do you have a name, soldier?"

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He was dead, he had to be or he was hallucinating from a lack of blood flow to his brain and other extremities because he was looking up into the face of a beautiful angel in white. An aura surrounded this angel with deep green eyes, gleaming black hair and pale, luminescent skin. He had always heard that when you die your life can flash before your eyes and other times death was swift and you saw nothing but the light. And he never thought something so beautiful would be at the end of that light waiting for him. He heard a loud snapping sound and he was instantly brought back to reality. She wasn't an angel and he wasn't dead. Whoever she was, she had saved his life and the warm, crackling fire burning brightly behind her had created the heavenly glow. He must have made it to the cabin after all. "D-D-Duke," he answered, his teeth still chattering.

She started to tuck the blanket under his shoulders but quickly pulled her hands back. He wasn't a child and he certainly didn't need to be coddled and the look she was receiving from him wasn't a look that she got from her second graders, his eyes started to darken and it wasn't from anger. She swallowed and quickly put some distance between them. "I'm Lana. What were you doing out in this blizzard? You don't have to answer that, just keep yourself warm and I'll start a fresh pot of coffee and heat up some soup," she said with a warm smile.

Duke nodded his head, shivering. His deeply embedded instincts for survival kicked in and he look around at his surroundings. This beauty had to have a husband or at least a boyfriend, but he didn't see any articles of men's clothing hanging around or smell cologne in the air. And then when he saw the .308 Winchester hunting rifle leaning up against the wall next to the door, he knew he was fucked, and not in a good way. A woman didn't have that high of a caliber rifle with a powerful scope next to the door unless she knew how to use it. He was going to have to watch his step around her. He reached down between his legs to make sure his blood had reached all of his extremities, cupping the heavy weight of his scrotum in his hand and then the length of his cock, feeling it twitch slightly in his hand. Good, she hadn't shot it off yet and it was still functioning but it was going to have to find another pussy to warm up in. He listened to her talk and move around the cabin as he stayed by the fire for a little while longer to make sure his core temperature was back to normal. She had a soft, soothing, slightly seductive voice.

"The bathroom is through the door there on the left and you can sleep on the couch tonight. The county crew probably won't have the roads cleared until the day after Christmas so if you would like to call anyone to let them know you're safe feel free to use the phone. I hope chicken noodle soup is okay. It's that or tomato," Lana said from the small kitchen as she tried to put as much space as she could between the two of them. Him, a complete stranger, was stirring up feelings inside her that she hadn't felt in a long time. And it frightened and excited her at the same time.

He was much, much warmer now and he threw off the heavy quilt and got to his feet, walking naked over to the small table in the kitchen and pulled out one of the two chairs. He finally noticed that she didn't have a Christmas tree and he wasn't going to press her as to why. If it was for religious reasons she had a right to her own beliefs, if it was for personal reasons they were her own, either way, he wasn't going to pry, he was just thankful he was still alive. "Chicken noodle is fine," Duke said. "I was going to surprise my family for Christmas but since they didn't even know I was coming home there's no need to call them and let them worry. I haven't seen them since I enlisted anyway." He sat down and picked up the steaming cup of coffee and took several small sips, feeling it start to warm him up from the inside out.

He took the opportunity to look over his savior. She was standing at the stove with her back to him, stirring a pan of soup. She was tall, just how he liked them, and her thick black hair hung in a ponytail down the middle of her back reaching almost to her waist. Her plush white robe covered her body from her neck to the back of her calves, the legs of her red pajamas visible, and was belted around her slender waist and she had fuzzy pink socks on to keep her feet warm. When she turned around to put the bowl of hot soup in front of him, his eyes were instantly drawn to her large breasts that were covered by the crossed lapels of her robe. He felt his cock twitch as it started to come more alive with a rush of hot blood. His cock must be hungry for the wet heat of a pussy because it was responding to a woman in flannel pajamas and a robe! "Do you have a boyfriend or a husband that's going to be coming home any time soon? Because if a man comes through that door and sees me sitting naked in your kitchen and reaches for that rifle, I don't want to snap the neck of someone that lives here."

Lana's eyes widened and the soup sloshed over the side of the bowl when she sat it down on the table. He could have at least wrapped the quilt around his nakedness. Instead, he was sitting there wearing just his dog tags and looking absolutely delicious with his hard, taut muscles and aqua eyes. She dropped her gaze between his wide-spread legs, he was the one naked after all, and sucked in her breath at the sight of his thawed out man meat. His testicles had returned to their rightful place, filling his lemon sized scrotum and his cock, fuck his cock was impressive. Flaccid and it was bigger than her husband's. It was actually nine inches long and nicely thick with protruding blue veins that interlaced it. The shaft was seven inches and the smooth tapered glans added another two inches to its length and an inch in girth at the base of the bulbous head. It hung a little off to the side of his scrotum, the smooth head resting on the padded cushion of her kitchen chair. She could have sworn she saw it twitch and start to harden. She felt her pussy really start to ache and her juices seep out if her to run down her thighs. His words finally cut through her sex-fogged brain. "I... I don't have a... my husband... I haven't... seen a cock since he died," Lana stammered unable to draw her gaze away from that impressive cock.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I'm sorry." He had nothing to cover himself up with to ease her anxiety; he was risking a serious burn as it was by having a hot bowl of steaming soup in such close proximity to his naked cock. He picked up the spoon she had in the bowl and dug into the soup, watching as she walked away. That was why she didn't have a tree, the painful memories. So, he was trapped in an isolated cabin with a widow that had an itch that needed to be scratched. Maybe finding that pussy was going to be a lot easier than he thought, but that rifle made him nervous and if she was still in mourning...

The buzzer on the dryer went off and Lana was instantly snapped out of her cock-filled trance. "It's okay, you didn't know," she stammered, quickly shuffling out of the kitchen in her stocking feet and into the laundry-room big enough for only the washer and dryer. She pulled his warm clothes out of the dryer, folding each article in turn and stacked them on top of the dryer. She picked up his jeans and went back out into the kitchen, looking at Duke sitting there in the chair her husband use to occupy. She watched him as he ate, feeling that longing in the pit of her stomach or was it in her pussy? Either way, she had to have that cock filling her up but if he was married... "Do you have a... a girlfriend or a... a wife?" she asked, curious, trying to make conversation but couldn't with his cock right there on display. She handed him his jeans.

Duke smiled as he took his jeans that were still warm from the dryer from her and got to his feet. He didn't have a problem with his nudity but she obviously did. He couldn't help but notice that she didn't advert her eyes as he stepped into his jeans, they were focused on his thick cock as it bobbed and swayed with the movement of his legs and he heard her slight intake of breath as he reached inside his pants to adjust his cock before he pulled the zipper up with a little difficulty. His cock was already starting to harden. "No, I don't. I take it you know how to use that rifle?" he asked, his curiosity and nerves getting the best of him.

Lana backed herself up against the counter, looking first at the hunting rifle that was still leaning up against the wall by the door and then back to him. The caliber of the rifle was intimidating enough and it had been for her, too, until she learned how to shoot it, but right now the caliber of him and his cock were the only two things on her mind. "I have it for protection. There are a lot of wild animals around here, more two legged than four. And they've all been trying to get through my front door ever since my husband died. And I can drop an elk on a full run at four hundred yards," Lana said, hoping she didn't scare him off. But by the look in those aqua eyes of his, he wasn't running away scared.

"Then I guess I should thank you for not shooting me," Duke said with a smile, looking at her across the small kitchen, his warm aqua eyes never leaving her face. She was breathing heavily as she stared at him, her breasts straining against the front of her robe. If she hadn't had sex since her husband died then she was starved for attention and he was just the one to satiate that hunger. But then again, she was probably still grieving the loss of her husband and she made it perfectly clear with that loaded rifle by the door that she didn't want another man in her life or between her thighs. So there was no way in hell he was going to repay her with his cock in her pussy. She should have just left him outside to freeze to death in the fucking blizzard.

Lana slowly smiled. "You're welcome. I'll make up the couch for you," she said before walking out of the tiny kitchen and the few feet over to the couch. She looked over at him, making sure that he was focused on his soup before she retrieved the dildo she had stuffed down in the cushions, jamming it into the pocket of her robe before disappearing into the bedroom. That was the last thing she wanted a complete stranger to find, especially one as good-looking as this one. She came back out with fresh bedding and made up the couch with a flannel sheet and another quilt even though he had the fire to keep warm and she was going to be inside her cold, cold bedroom. "Please make sure the fire doesn't go out. The cabin gets cold real quick. Goodnight."

"I won't. Thank you," Duke said. He watched as she walked across the room to her bedroom, her ponytail and hips swaying with every step. She was putting as much distance as she could between them. Well, shit. He was sleeping alone, not that they would have been doing much sleeping. What did he expect anyway, for her to fall over on her back with her legs spread wide? It would have been nice, but he was a complete stranger and he didn't take her for the type to jump into bed with a man only after a few hours, even if she had saved his life. No pussy for him.

Lana shut her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. She had a freaking hot Navy SEAL in her cabin and she was wearing goddamn flannel pajamas and a bath robe! She hadn't had a cock in so long and there was one right on the other side of her bedroom door and she looked like a frumpy housewife. She had been faithful to her husband and a part of her felt like if she went back out there she was cheating on him, on his memory, this the night before the day he had been killed, but then her husband wouldn't want her to pine away in their cabin, he would want her to live her life and be happy, even if that was only for one night. And if anyone in town found out... She had ignored the advances of all the men for good reasons, they were all married and had children, some of which were in her class, and the ones that were single were too young, and the ones that were too old needed the help of little blue pills to even get their cocks hard. But the man that was out there on her couch was neither too young nor too old...and she was lonely, so lonely.