Snowstorm From Hell

"Ahh, I'm your neighbor, the dark brown house to the west," I answered. "I'm Xander and my wife is Leslie. We're the Hollenbecks."

I think she could feel the venom in my words when I mentioned my wife because her face softened. Still, I hadn't adequately explained why I had a tattoo of their logo on my arm, nor did I think I could. However, I had to try.

"So... look, the tattoo was a spur of the moment decision last week," I began. "I guess it started when I found my wife spending far too much time at the neighbors on the other side of you..."

"Wait," cut in the bearded guy, a level of concern in his voice. "You don't mean Paul and Gabriel, do you?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, a sinking feeling forming in my stomach.

"That's where we came from," said the man. "My wife and I were invited over to their place tonight. We know the couple from the country club just up the road. Well, we already filled in your host, but we found out it was a crazy swinger's party. We're not into that. We even overheard some talk of a couple of the women stepping out on their husbands for the thrill of it. The idea sickened us and we left minutes after arriving. Despite the weather, we couldn't spend another minute with those people. So, we made it about a mile before we got hopelessly stuck in a snowbank and were forced to walk to the closest house, this one."

"Yeah," I answered. "That sounds about right. I walked over there to figure out once and for all if my wife was cheating on me. I went cross-country through the snow. What I saw at their house was enough and honestly, I was so angry that I wasn't paying attention and tried walking back to my house. That's when I fell through the ice of your pond. I finally got out and made my way to the rear patio door. I would have died if you all hadn't brought me inside."

"Well, that was all Kasey," said the man. "My wife Linzie and I, I'm Robert by the way... well...we got here about an hour after you did."

"Ahh, in that case, thanks Kasey," I said. "I guess I owe you my life, such as it is. Umm, as for the tattoo, I really don't know. I saw it in the tattoo shop's book and thought it looked cool. I admit that it looked familiar, but I had no idea it was any band's logo, let alone a band that had members living right next door. Honestly, if I were you, I wouldn't believe me either."

"Hmmmph," replied the woman, absently tucking an escaped lock of auburn hair behind her ear as she considered my words. "Which tattoo parlor?"

"Uhh, I think it was called The Colored Pencil. It's down in NYC," I replied. "Why?"

"Just checking to see if your story is legit," said the woman. "I don't believe in coincidences."

"Well, maybe it wasn't," I said. "I vaguely remember the gift basket that you gave us having t-shirts with that logo on them. I knew the logo was familiar, but I couldn't place it. Besides, I loved the style. Who did the art for it?"

"I did," answered the woman... Kacey, a hint of red flushing her cheeks. "I was going to be a tattoo artist. The man-whore got me into singing and the music industry."

"Man-whore?" I asked, furrowing my brow at the venom in Kacey's words.

"My soon-to-be-ex-husband," she explained. "We won't be your neighbors for much longer. I'm divorcing his cheating ass."

"Ahh," I said. "I'm sorry. I know how it feels."

Just then, Robert and Linzie walked back into the room. I hadn't even realized they had left. I finally got a view of Linzie when she sat down next to Kacey and put her arm around the sad woman's shoulders. She was an older woman, perhaps mid-forties, but still strikingly beautiful. Long curly blonde hair framed a lightly tanned face that hinted at years of hitting the gym. She smiled in greeting, her glossy blue eyes sparkling for an instant before she turned her head to look at the lady of the house.

"That's why communication is so important," she said, a dejected-looking Kacey nodding at the sage advice.

"I agree, but it didn't seem to matter in my relationship," I replied, cutting in when it seemed like Kacey wasn't ready to open herself up yet. "We had an agreement, but it was all a lie to cuckold me. I can only guess that she gets off on playing me for a fool. Well, she can find some other dupe, because I'm done with her."

"What kind of agreement?" asked Kacey, her head tilted to the side as if to look at me in a new light, her current worries temporarily forgotten.

"Okay, don't judge but..." I began, outlining my wife and my brand-new adventure.

By the time I had finished describing my last few days, my three companions were all deep in thought. I noticed Linzie nod almost imperceptibly to her husband Robert before turning and giving me a motherly look. "Well, to be honest, Xander...my husband and I were at that party to swing as well. However, we overheard a few things that turned our stomachs and we decided to get the hell out of there."

My blood ran cold, and I felt a tinge of nausea rise from my stomach as I asked, "What did you hear? Please."

Linzie frowned, her eyes glancing around as she considered my question. A small nod told me she had made her decision. "Some of the comments were apparently about you, but many more were about a couple of other guys that weren't in attendance. What they said about you was just how naive you are and how exciting and powerful your wife feels by putting one over you. What they said about the other fellows was much worse. They are narcissists and sadists. To be completely truthful, the signs were all there. It wasn't until they started becoming so brash about it that we understood the kind of people we were associating with. I mean, Gabriel said she wanted to fuck you and that it took all her willpower to deny you. Basically, her need to humiliate you was greater than her lust."

"Wow," I said, trying to digest what she was saying. "Part of me feels a little better. This is her issue and it's her that's fucked up, not me. But... I don't know...now I know there really is no way back. I don't feel hate, just remorse for a life that no longer exists and the hopelessness... I guess."

"That's completely normal," said Linzie.

Robert cut in, "You should listen to her, she's a psychologist. That's partly how we got involved with this group."

"And I know what you're thinking," added Linzie. "How did a psychologist miss all the signs? Shouldn't she be the first to pick up on those types of things? The problem was, as it usually is...objectivity. My husband and I were both too close to what was happening to look at things objectively. Love isn't the only thing that blinds us to the truth."

"I guess that makes sense," I said, having no reason to doubt them. "And it may be normal, but it still feels like shit."

"Sometimes it can be helpful to talk about it," she replied. "Sometimes a stranger makes it easier to say what you're feeling without fear of being judged. It's different for each person but if you want to talk, I can listen, or Robert if you'd prefer."

"Or me," added Kacey. "After all, our experiences aren't so different."

"You know," I answered, giving Kacey a little half-smile. "I may take you up on that. I'm not sure anything you could say would make me feel any worse."

"Oh thanks," she said, chuckling and rolling her eyes. "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming..."

"Hah," I laughed. "Another fan of The Princess Bride?"

"Of course," replied Kacey, smiling tenderly.

We spent the next two hours talking about the movie. Then our conversation turned to our favorite movies, books, and music. At some point, Linzie and Robert retired to the guest room that Kacey had made available for them. I chuckled at that. Kacey and I had been engrossed in our conversation to the point of becoming oblivious to everything around us. I had even forgotten about my present circumstances for a while. Kacey was truly a pleasure to spend time with. No wonder she was a rising star in the rock world. She was a beauty, had true wit, and exuded charisma for days.

A while into the conversation, I noticed that I could feel my toes and fingers again. My fingers itched a bit, but I took that as a good sign. I could feel them, even the small internal cuts from frozen blood shards inside my fingertips. Anyone who's lived in the cold for a few years knows what I'm talking about. Tentatively, I pulled myself up and into a sitting position, giving Kacey my most disarming smile. She had sat up to help but relaxed back in her seat when she saw that I could handle sitting up on my own. She seemed like such a sweet woman. It mystified me as to why her husband would cheat on her, but I wasn't about to ask. She was avoiding talking about my problems and I couldn't help but return the favor.

As we talked into the night, I could feel myself slowly falling for her. That scared me straight. I had enough problems without adding rejection to the list. She was a rock star, semi-famous, rich, or at least extremely well-to-do. I had a good job and could passably play the guitar. I won't say that she was way out of my league, but she was definitely out of my league.

"Well, thank you so much for saving my life, the hospitality, and the company... but I should be fine now. It's only a mile or so to my house, so I'll get out of your hair now," I said, noticing several emotions pass over her face when I stood up on shaky legs and held the blanket covering me to my body. "Could you point me to my clothes?"

"Oh shit," she swore. "We got to talking and I forgot them in the washer. Look, stay the night. I have plenty of rooms available. Your clothes should be ready in the morning. I'll put them in the dryer right now."

"Again, thank you," I sighed, knowing that at least I could escape and get some sleep. "Which way?"

She made me wait while she pulled my clothes from the washer and threw them in the dryer along with a dryer sheet. I pulled my eyes away from her perfect heart-shaped ass before she could catch me peaking. I wasn't doing myself any favors, that's for sure.

Once the dryer started spinning, she led me up a flight of curving stairs to a large and very long landing, five doors off the hallway it formed. She pointed to the door in front of her.

"This is our...my...room," she said, sadness in her voice as she came to grips with her inevitable loss. "You can sleep in here," she indicated the room next to hers as she opened the door into a large room with a vaulted ceiling and king-sized bed.

"Thank you," I replied, smiling warmly at her before moving past and into the room.

She held the door for a moment, indecision in her eyes as she looked at me. I cocked my head at her, silently questioning the woman's delay. She chuckled to herself and shook her head with bemusement as if chasing away a crazy idea, then she smiled at me and shut the heavy mahogany door. "Good night," she said as the door shut.

"Goodnight," I replied to the mahogany. It didn't reply.

***************************************

Despite the comfort of the bed, I slept fitfully. Well, I mostly just laid there. Eventually, I got up and found a box of tissues in the bathroom and left them on the nightstand. I figured I'd relieve a couple of weeks of pressure to help me sleep. Unfortunately, my mind and heart weren't in it. My wife was probably getting fucked even as I lay there, by one, maybe two or more men. Who knows...maybe women too? I had to be honest with myself, I didn't know my wife at all anymore. Maybe I never really did, only thinking I did. Divorce was inevitable, but that still didn't sit right with me. Splitting everything equally seemed monumentally unfair. It wasn't I that was cheating. The injustice of it all was making me livid. I just laid there in bed, frustrated to the point of gnashing my teeth.

"Creak..." went the door to my room as it opened just a crack. Soft light filtered into my room through the inch-wide crack, and I could make out someone peering inside.

"Are you still awake?" I heard Kacey's voice ask, a timidness there that I hadn't heard before. She sounded vulnerable. I knew the feeling.

"Yeah," I answered softly, the relative darkness and quiet shaming me into a whisper. "Can't sleep. Too much going on in my head."

"Me too," she said, her voice going up an octave as she asked, "Mind of a come in?"

"Not at all," I replied. "It's your house and besides, I'd rather talk to you than be alone with my thoughts, such as they are."

Silently, she slipped inside and shut the door behind her. I found that curious. Then she glided over to the bed and sat down on it beside me. I could just make her out from the ambient light sneaking in under the door. The outside was pitch black from the blowing snow with the low constant howl of the wind letting us know that there was more going on outside than just empty darkness. The worst blizzard anyone had seen in decades was trying to bury us in the cold white powder. The warmth of her hand as she put it on mine and squeezed felt heavenly compared to the hellish cold mere feet away. I looked up at her face but could only make out the glint of her eyes.

"I'm sorry about what you're going through," I said. "And I'm sorry for crashing in on you like I did. You pretty much know my situation, so the least I can do is offer you a sympathetic ear for yours."

"Okay," she said softly. "You already know some of it, but there's a lot more."

For the next three hours, she laid it all out for me. Whether out of a sense of commiseration, empathy, or something, I could only guess. As she finished unburdening herself, I felt her hand grip mine tightly. I had completely forgotten that she was holding onto it, so engrossed was I in her life's story.

She had met her husband and his friends in junior high when they had formed a band together to compete in a school talent show. They were a hit and spent years writing music and practicing their craft. Through it all, she drew close to her husband and they decided to tie the knot just out of high school. Their debut was a dud, with good reviews but poor sales. It was their second album that brought them a modicum of fame. Unfortunately, it was after the first album was released that they started having relationship troubles. After a local gig, her husband slept with one of their fledgling fans.

Rather than break up their marriage and the band, she chose to forgive him and so they came up with a plan together. He complained that she didn't want sex as much as he did, to which she had no choice but to acknowledge. So, for the sake of the band, she allowed them to have an open marriage. However, there were conditions. She didn't want him bringing back STDs and she thought it only fair that she be allowed to see other men too. They fought for a while but came up with a few basic rules, with total honesty being part of it.

Fast forward three years and it turned out that not only was he sleeping with multiple women and a few men, but he had been involved in regular orgies without telling her about it. Her drummer, Pete, accidentally let it slip during one of his drunken binges. She immediately got tested for STDs and had the clap. Antibiotics and a few weeks later, it had cleared up. They fought a lot at that point and the band early broke up over it. Luckily for her, she had stopped sleeping with him since she had been tested. It turned out that he had picked up syphilis after that, the gift that keeps on giving. That was just a week ago. Now, he was out and about again, doing God knows what with God knows who.

She started to cry once she had finished. Then she sniffed, wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, and looked at me. It was still very dark, so I squeezed her hand as she had just done to me.

"I don't even know what I'm crying about," she said, still sniffling. "I did love him, but I was never in love with him. He was funny, but not too bright. Scrawny and pasty white, yet somehow still hairy. And he was terrible at sex. I would never have known that if he hadn't cheated, but after our agreement, I also had sex with others. They showed me how it could be, but I stupidly stuck with him despite it all. I'm such an idiot."

"Why?" I asked, anger in my voice. Not at her but him for making her feel this way. "For being honest and honorable? For being loyal? No, you're not an idiot. He's the idiot for tossing away a treasure in search of something that doesn't exist."

"What's that?" she asked, curiosity embracing her words.

"Something better," I said in all honesty. It boggled my mind how he could throw away the love of a compassionate, intelligent, and gorgeous woman for a chance at what...catching the latest non-refundable disease? I was shaking my head in disgust over the man when it happened.

Her hand left mine and then both of her hands were holding my face. As the feeling of her soft warm hands on my cheeks registered and caused my heart to stop, the next thing that happened jump-started it. Her lips, softer and warmer than her hands pressed against mine. She kissed me and I kissed her back. Maybe I could have stopped myself if I had tried, but I doubt it. Regardless, I didn't try to stop myself. Instead, I leaned into it and took her lithe body into my arms, our lips never parting.

She kissed like a starving animal and I returned her kisses with the same gusto. I don't remember which one of us slipped our tongue into the other's mouth, but the feeling was incredible. Her mouth tasted of berries and her hair smelled of vanilla. It was exquisite and I was under her spell. Imagine my disappointment when she finally pulled her face away from mine.

"I don't want to talk anymore," she said breathlessly.

The dramatic pause that followed was my euphoria-addled brain slowly comprehending what she meant by that simple statement. A moment later and we were off to the races, racing to see who could get their clothes off first. She ended up winning, mainly because she was only wearing her bathrobe. It was obvious that she had never come in here to talk. I had just delayed the inevitable. I think she knew I wouldn't turn her away and we both needed this right now.

"I do have a little confession to make," she said as her hand started to stroke my already stiff cock. "After stripping your freezing wet clothes off your body and dragging you in front of the fireplace, I washed your body with warm water. At first to try and thaw out your hands and feet from the frostbite that was setting in. Then I decided I should probably wash the pond water off your body. Maybe it wasn't necessary, but at least I know your clean down here."

She squeezed my cock gently to make sure I knew what "down here" meant. I was just standing there naked as she dipped down in front of me. As her lips slipped over the head of my cock, I quickly understood why being clean was so important too. Warm, and soft, and wet, she took all of me inside her, bobbing up and down the entire length of my shaft. I'd like to say that I enjoyed a long sensual blowjob before turning her around and having my way with her. That's not what happened though. The feeling was too intense, too perfect. I came. It happened quickly and it was one of the hardest orgasms of my life. It had been years since I had cum that hard. Kacey stood up slowly, sliding her body along mine as her hands explored more sides and back. With her face right in front of me, she swallowed hard.

"Mmmm, yummy," she purred, having just swallowed two weeks' worth of pent-up frustration.

Then she pushed me, and I fell back onto the bed. An instant later and she was straddling me. I could feel the heat radiate off her inner thighs but that was quickly overwhelmed by the musky scent of her fully excited pussy. I flicked my tongue out and found hot wet flesh that tasted tangy yet tasty. A low growl escaped her throat from the touch, so I redoubled my efforts and lapped hungrily at her dripping wet slit. She howled and moaned while unconsciously squeezing my head between her soft warm thighs. My tongue found her clit and I thought she might kill me when her legs tightened almost painfully as she came. A light slap on her thigh brought her back to her senses and she loosened the stranglehold she had on my head, gasping for breath while her body shook from the aftershocks of her orgasm.