The Snow Maid

Polina gasped, her muscles aching, clenching, spasming, gripping his member as her release bore down upon her. At the same time, Bill felt his cock stiffen and grow, rigid with lust.

Their orgasms hit them at once, a thundering crescendo of pleasure, and Bill shouted hoarsely as he felt his cock pump Polina full of his essence. At the same time, she writhed in his grasp, shaking as the force of her climax swept over her, leaving her limp and boneless with joy.

He collapsed on her back, then slowly slid off, overcome by the rapture that their lovemaking had brought upon them. Her eyes were bright and her lips curled in a smile.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her softly.

"Thank you." she said, returning it. She sighed and closed her eyes, snuggling into his embrace. With one arm he brought up the blankets to cover them, closed his eyes, and wished the lights off.

They were both asleep within moments.

%%%

Polina woke before Bill did, her head pillowed on his shoulder, brown hair tickling her nose. Safe within the circle of his arms, she studied his face. The marks of his terrible journey had been erased, the raw red skin of windburn healed, and the gaunt angles of his body slowly filling out with good food and rest.

Stretching sensuously, she reveled in his warmth, so different from her body's eternal chill. Almost without thinking, one hand crept down to cradle his cock, softly teasing, breath quickening as it stirred and filled her hand.

A quick glance told her that he was still asleep. Moving quietly, she pulled the blankets off them, so that his small lean body was completely exposed to her view. She leaned over his shaft, and gave it a soft lick, enjoying the taste, reminiscent of their love-making the previous night.

Her lips and tongue danced on him, encouraging his growth, until he was hard under her touch. With a wide smile, she opened her mouth and let the first portion of his manhood slip between her lips, humming happily as his heated flesh invaded her mouth. Her head bobbed gently as her lips stroked him, tongue softly licking the bulbous head, wickedly grazing the so-sensitive slit from whence his seed came.

The thought set up an echo in her mind. A child? The idea made her womb spasm longingly, and Mother Snegurochka blinked awake for a moment. Although legend said that the Mother had many children, Polina had found that to be true only in the abstract, and had never borne a child of her own.

I would though, with him, she thought. For him I would dare anything. A girl-child with my face and his sweet temper? Or maybe a little boy with his dark eyes and my pale skin?

A moan from above cut off her thoughts. Bill stirred, blinked, and woke, taking in the scene with a startled smile.

"Good morning, Snow Maid. I was going to ask you what you would like for breakfast, but it seems that you have found something to eat already."

Polina giggled as she let Bill's phallus slip out of her mouth. Her hand caught it and pumped it gently in one spit-slickened fist.. "Wicked boy. Yes, I found something to my liking. But it would be rude for me to dine alone." She turned on the bed and crouched. Taking the hint, he wiggled down the bed to meet her until she could lower her cleft to his face. Bending down once more, she took his throbbing head back into her, the tips of her breasts brushing the trembling skin of his belly.

From behind her, she heard him say, "I'll try, but I was never terribly good at this. Working upside down, I mean."

She smiled around his cock, tongue circling the glans. "Just do your best ,darling. You have plenty of time to learn. And I'm afraid I'm not getting out of this bed until you have made me come."

"Wonderful," he breathed happily, and drew her down to him again. She felt his tongue hesitantly touch her folds, and moved slightly, opening the way for him, shuddering with pleasure as he traced a path back and forth among the creases of her sex. At the same time, he grasped her breasts and fondled them lovingly, fingertips softly teasing her nipples until they stiffened, twin testaments to her desire.

Polina kissed his shaft, taking it into her mouth, making love to his hot length. Her fingers tickled his testes, marveling at the way they drew up in the hairy sac of his scrotum. She wet a finger and ran it from his sack down the cleft of his cheeks, taking pleasure as he moaned and twisted under her.

There! At last he had found the spot he sought, and her guttural moan of bliss proved that he was where she desired him. Lapping with his tongue, he fought for control as her head bobbed more urgently on his pole.

Too soon, God, it is too soon. "Polina, I...ohhh!!" he gasped as he lost his battle and his cock spurted into her mouth. He heard her moan happily as he filled her with his essence. Even through his spasms, her mouth continued its joyful work, and he clutched the mattress in his hands and shook as his sensitized body learned the true meaning of pleasure.

At last he was done, and she let his limp cock fall out of her mouth, striking his thigh with an obscene slap. She looked over one shoulder at him, golden hair framing her face. The slightest trace of semen dotted one lip as she swallowed. She raised her eyebrows at his stunned expression and wiggled her hips in reminder.

"Your meal isn't finished, child. Clean up your plate, or there is no desert for you."

Bill laughed and raised his head again, mouth unerringly finding her bud of pleasure, hands reaching up to cup her breasts in loving hands. She sighed in his grasp.

"You really do love my titties, don't you, Bill?" she asked. Mouth filled, he grunted assent. "I love them too. But especially when you play with them. Your hands are so soft, but they make me burn inside." One of her hands cupped a breast, joining his, tweaking the erect nipple. The other stole down to her mons, flat palm pushing urgently at the rise of her pubis.

Her orgasm came upon her, slow and sure and inevitable. Her hips rolled back and forth under the loving strokes of Bill's tongue, thrusting gently as he found her clit and pulled it between his lips, the tip of his tongue flicking the bud. Her nipples caught fire, her hands reached down and locked around Bill's legs as she whimpered and shook, thighs and belly shaking under the force of her climax, her ears full of Bill's words, telling her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her.

She staggered out of bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a tangled rats-nest, her face flushed, wide eyes dilated with passion. She was smeared with the traces of their lovemaking from her hips to her belly to her groin, and her pubic thatch was matted to her skin by the sticky residue of both of their bodies.

Absolutely wonderful. She grinned at her reflection and turned to her lover.

"Now that we've eaten, let's have breakfast."

%%%

The next several weeks were the happiest of Polina's life. Drawn out of her gray, miserable existence, she gave herself to her lover with happy abandon. Appetites which she thought had been dulled or lost forever surged back into her body, and Bill indulged her every request, seemingly as happy as she.

Not all of their time was spent exploring the delights of carnal knowledge. There were still chores to do; water to haul and wood to cut; meals to prepare and dishes to wash; floors to clean and windows to scrub, as she refused to surrender to the temptation to let her power do all their tasks for them. It did one no good at all, she said, to sit around idle when there was a task that needed doing. And as Bill noted one afternoon while they cleaned cobwebs from the corners, the anticipation that built throughout a days' hard work gave extra zest to their periods of passionate, mind-bending sex.

The short winter days sped by, and Yule was nearly upon them. A chance remark she made one morning led to a three-day effort to celebrate the holiday properly. Polina raided the pantry to make cookies, cakes, and sweets for their celebration, while Bill spent an entire furious afternoon trying to convince the house to produce the ingredients for a strange drink he called "eggnog".

During those days Polina thought she sensed a darkening of Bill's mood. He was as sweet and loving to her as he had ever been, but his expression grew somber, even sad at times, as the holiday approached. She asked him several times if anything was wrong, but he simply smiled, or kissed her, or changed the subject.

The day came, and it was as splendid a success as could have been wished. After a last-minute spate of cleaning, they began the afternoon by sampling the treats that Polina had made, and by drinking large mugs of Bill's eggnog and hot cider. Supper was a mighty meal of ham, potatoes with gravy, peas with onions and peppers, and biscuits, all washed down with goblets of wine or bottles of beer, which Bill had managed to wheedle out of the cold-cellar.

Afterward, they retired to the sitting room, armed with plates of cake and cookies to nibble on before bed, which Polina was looking forward to very much indeed.

Bill smiled at her. "This has been a lovely day, sweetheart. Thank you."

She smiled back at him, wondering again at how dear his face had become to her in just a few months. "It was my pleasure, darling. Tell me," she continued. "What would this day be like back at your home? In Minnesota?"

Bill smiled in fond remembrance. "Well, I would probably spend the day with my parents. My sister and her husband would drive in from Rapid City, and our day would be a lot like it is here. We would eat and drink and talk and just enjoy each others' company. And in the evening, before we all went to bed, we would sing." His look turned wistful. "You don't happen to play an instrument, do you?"

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed. "What proper woman does not know how to provide entertainment at a gathering?" She stood and marched out of the room. In a few minutes she returned, carrying a wooden instrument with three strings and a triangular body.

"It is a balalaika," she said in response to Bill's inquiring look. "Now. You sing. And when I have the tune I will join you."

Bill began tentatively. He had never been a strong singer and was only able to carry a tune, his sister had once said, if he had a basket. But he had always loved Christmas carols. He started slowly with the songs he remembered best. Some were religious, others not.

Silent Night. Holy Night.

Memories came back to him. Decorating the tree with his family. Sledding down the hill behind the bank with Frank and Edgar and Mary.

Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the Feast of Steven.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas. A Charlie Brown Christmas. A Christmas Story.

There's a white Christmas in my home town; there the streets are snowy shining bright.

Grandma and Grandpa Schuler. Aunt Esther. Nancy, his little sister, and her husband Jim, her high-school sweetheart.

His throat choked with pain.

Santa, make her my bride for Christmas. Santa, it wouldn't cost very much.

Bill's voice broke and he gave a strangled sob. He looked at Polina, such despair in his face that she rocked back in her chair, the balalaika falling from numb fingers. He opened his mouth helplessly, then turned and ran out of the room.

%%%

She found him in the library, the tracks of his tears on his face, staring hopelessly into the depths of the fire. She sat beside him and took his hand. When he spoke, his voice was a sad murmur.

"My father used to sing that to my mother every year. It made her horribly embarrassed, but he didn't care. They had married on Christmas Day, you see? And every Christmas he would ask everyone to be quiet and he would sing that song. And by the end of the first verse, she was singing the woman's part to him. And they finished as a duet

"I can't even describe their faces when they sang to each other. It was like they were the only two people in the world. It made you feel like you were an intruder to see a love so pure.

"I miss them so terribly, Polina. I thought I had made my peace with this. I would wake up and I might think of my friends, my sister, my family. And then I would remind myself that if it weren't for you, I would be dead. And I would count my blessings. You, as my lover. This house. Shelter. Safety. Love.

"But it isn't enough. It isn't enough."

Polina listened to him, her heart breaking. When she spoke, it felt like she was forcing jagged glass out of her throat.

"You must leave."

He looked up, eyes blazing. "I must not. Don't you think I have thought of it, these last few days? What would happen to you if I left? How long before you began to age again, before the last crumbs of faith in this terrible land were snuffed out, and you ceased to exist? I love you, Polina Snegurochka. I will not abandon you."

"And what will happen to you, if I keep you here, foolish boy?" she cried. "Do you not think that this happened before? I have seen it too many times to count.

"Usually it is the small ones, the children. They were left at the stone when there were too many mouths to feed, and I took them in. But they wilted and died like flowers cut off from the sun. I will not have you share the same fate."

"And what makes you think that the same thing won't happen if I leave?" he shouted, driven wild with despair. "That I could live without you? I love you, dammit! How could I live with myself knowing that I had left you to a slow death? Do you think my faith in you could sustain you from half a world away? And what would happen if I changed my mind, and came back to the stone? I wouldn't be a sacrifice then.

He stood and glared furiously into the fire. "I couldn't come back. That would kill me dead on the spot."

"You can't stay with me. You can't leave without me. And I can't leave at all." Polina's voice was leaden and tears ran silently down her face.

"You can't leave at all," breathed Bill. He shook himself and smiled tiredly at his lover. "Well, we've identified the problem, at least. Now we have to work at solving it." He bent and took her hands in his. "Come to bed with me?"

Even now, after the storm of emotion, her blood heated at his touch, and she felt her pulse quicken in her thighs. "Yes," she snarled, hating the trap they found themselves in, and pledging herself to defeating it.

In the bedroom he sensed her need, and one who was ordinarily the most gentle of lovers turned violent, his anger matching hers. As soon as they entered the room he swept the door closed with a harsh bang, then bore her down onto the bed, hands hard upon her as he tore the dress from her body.

"Wicked tramp," he breathed in her ear, his hot breath sending delicious shivers through her. "You're not wearing any underwear. Again. I'll bet you were just waiting for me to stick my cock into you. Weren't you?"

"Oh, by the High One, yes," she sighed, writhing under his touch. "I'm a horny little strumpet and I need your cock. I need it so bad. Please take me. Take me hard!"

One hand pressing into the small of her back, he undid the flies of his trousers with the other. Damn this place. Why couldn't it figure out zippers? He shoved them down to his knees, briefly considered pulling off his boots, then shook his head. To hell with it.

Polina's ass was arched off the bed, a lovely curve that begged for his touch, the lips of her sex peeking coyly up at him. With a stinging slap, he struck one pale cheek.

"Down on the bed, girl. I'll take you when I am ready, not before."

God, he was hard. He moved up between her thighs and kicked his boots off. He ran his cock tauntingly up the cleft of her buttocks, smearing her with his juice, laughing mockingly as she clenched her muscles, trying to trap him. He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her head down and to the side, and kissed her harshly, his teeth nipping at her lips, enjoying her moans of longing.

He was distracted by a rocking motion beneath him, and glanced down to see her legs spread lewdly open, her hips urgently pushing her groin into the bed. One of her hands had snuck down between her legs while he wasn't watching, and he could see the muscles in her arm jerking as she frantically fingered herself.

"Oh, no you don't." Ignoring her pleas, he pulled her hand away from her slick center and rolled her over onto her back. She glared at him through the curtain of her hair as her thighs sagged open, cold blue lips unfurling for him. Moving to her side, he took both of her wrists in one hand and pinned them over her head and with the other grazed the length of her cleft, coating his finger with her moistness.

Her hips bucked with an almost audible snap, surging upward to meet his hand, desperate for attention in the place she needed it most. Gentle now, he teased her, now approaching, now backing away from her sensitive nub. Her breasts thrust high into the air as well, firm and proud, round globes that demanded his attention. His head dropped down to suckle them, teeth scraping the tender nipples.

"Oh, Bill. Oh, my love. I need it. I need your beautiful thick cock inside me. Please, fuck me. Fuck me with your hot body."

Her need drove him over the edge. With his trousers still limply hanging around his ankles, he nudged her thighs apart with his knees. He paused for a splintered instant to coat the head of his cock in her slippery fluid, then shoved inside her with one long thrust.

Polina's mouth opened in a breathless scream as he pumped into her, hard and urgent. He let go of her wrists at last, and she clawed his shoulders with her nails, almost deep enough to draw blood, as her legs rose and locked over his, trapping him within her fierce embrace. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, mouth, eyes, cheeks, mouth again, trying to crawl within her, to make him one with her.

He felt his climax approach. His seed surged up the length of his cock, his testes drawn up in their sac. With one final stroke, he erupted inside her, spending his essence within her willing sheath as her body shook with her own orgasm beneath him.

%%%

They lay together, his warm body against her cold one. His eyes were closed, but she sensed he was not asleep.

I'm going to lose him, she thought bleakly. Whether by the slow decay of time as his spirit crumbles, or by a last parting at the stone. It makes no difference. I will lose him.

But not tonight. The grim notion was oddly comforting. Tonight he is mine.

With that thought uppermost in her mind, she drifted off to sleep.

%%%

Bill lay motionless. He did not stir until he felt Polina finally relax into sleep.

"I can't leave at all."

Her sad voice echoed in his thoughts, and with it, the wild hope that arisen when she said those words earlier, hope that he had ruthlessly beaten down before it could show in his face.

Why can't she leave?

Because of the belief that created her. He was almost sure of it. She had lived with that belief for so long that it was a shackle around her soul, locking her into a cage.

But the blade of belief could cut two ways.

How can I test it?

He gently untangled himself from his lover, and pulled on a robe. Sitting in a chair, he started to think.

%%%

Polina woke late, groggy and muzzy-headed from a night too full of food, drink, shouting, and sex. She grunted a greeting to Bill, sitting hollow-eyed in a chair near the bed. Unconcerned with the cold, she made her way naked to the bathroom, barely catching a glimpse of herself in the bedroom mirror.

Poor dear. He looks like he hasn't slept all night.