The Snowstorm

I wasn't in a great place mentally at the time. I can admit that now. Marie was all the way in Kansas, we didn't talk as much as we probably should have, and her good Catholic values meant that sending me the kind of material that would have helped me unwind was out of the question. So when the snowstorm hit, and we all lost power, it was never going to end well. My sexual frustration, a lack of quality internet connection and the bottle of apple pie moonshine only hastened my demise.

"It's snowing, but we haven't lost power. Don't get too crazy." I read her text, and shot a quick reply pleading my innocence, and threw on my boots. Erin had invited me and my roommates over to their house to burn the last few hours of daylight of our unplanned vacation. We were all teachers, so the snowstorm meant a snow day in the rural Mississippi town we all worked. The low bridges over the river quickly iced over, and the small county didn't maintain much in the way of salt. Erin and I had gotten close fairly quickly, in a way that felt surprisingly platonic. But she thoroughly enjoyed putting me in situations where my formerly religious nature went to war with my unbridled sexual appetite.

"I'm glad you came over, and I know Courtney is glad too." The last part was said much quieter and only to me. Erin knew I had a soft spot for her roommate, and enjoyed watching my feathers get ruffled too. "Come on, they're in the living room. We already started drinking."

We gathered around their small coffee table, pouring shots of moonshine into small glasses and Mason jars--playing like we weren't a bunch of millennial expats who had come to South to play white savior. As the liquor flowed, I found myself getting much worse at filtering the thoughts that fired off in my brain. I tried to be good, and redirected my energies back into flirty texts with Marie. "We're drinking moonshine. And I keep imagining what I'd do to you if you were here"

"LOL. Have fun." Not the response I was hoping for at all, I put my phone away. I would just get blasted drunk instead, that seemed a better use of my time. I emptied my cup, and challenged Courtney to keep up. She went shot for shot, drink for drink with me as we all swapped stories of ex-partners, risky hookups and poor life choices. The more we talked, the more I realized I needed to get the hell out of there. I needed to get home, jerk off and get my head screwed on straight.

The night waned, and as the realization that we would still be without power dawned on us, I crossed the street and headed back home. Never one to give up on a plan, I resumed my drinking and settled into a night of Pornhub and pleasure. As my hands settled into the rhythm I needed, my mind played the highlights of my conversation with Courtney. I painted pictures in my fantasies of her toned ass, a relic of her days as a college soccer player. I imagined my hands tracing the curves of her body, how good her lips would feel wrapped around me, how I'd grab a fistful of her caramel hair as she begged me for more.

I came hard, shuddering as my muscles spasmed in the aftershocks. Spent, still a little drunk, and still nowhere near satisfied, I walked to the bathroom and grabbed a wet washcloth to clean myself off. I had scratched the momentary itch, but the larger desire still remained. I grabbed my phone and opened Messenger. There her name sat "Courtney Stark", with the little green dot that showed she too was online. I sent some stupid little comment.

"Too drunk to sleep too?"

"Haha no. Too horny."

Fuck. This was the point when I should have backed down, should have realized I was in over my head. But I was drunk, horny and arrogant.

"Come over. I can take care of that."

"You couldn't handle me."

"My front door is open. Try me and find out."

The silence lingered for a moment, and I was sure my banter had crossed a line.

"I'll be over in 3 minutes."

----

She came to the door in sweats and a long sleeve T-shirt from some long-past sorority event. She clearly wasn't out to seduce or impress. This was as primal for her as it was for me.

"I'm not interested in being the other woman, or in breaking you and your girlfriend up, okay?

"Yeah, no me neither. This is purely about getting what we both want out of it. Things are pretty much over there, anyway. I just haven't had the right time to go there and tell her."

I was lying, at least in part. I hadn't said any of this out loud before, and Marie thought things were great, as far as I knew. But I definitely knew that this would seal things, and I didn't even care.

"Good." And with that one word from her, my hands leapt forward, meeting her at her hips and pulling her into a kiss. It wasn't a romantic kiss, but almost a formality. She crossed her arms and grabbed at the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. I kissed my way from her mouth, to her neck, stopping just beneath her ear. She had mentioned in the drunken conversations that a well placed kiss behind the ear could melt her, and I wasn't going to pass up that opportunity.

"Ha. You listened." She pushed me back onto my bed "So did I." With a smirk, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and knelt down in front of me. I had mentioned, in my own moonshine confessional that Marie's Catholic guilt meant that getting blown was clearly off the already limited menu. Courtney was clearly not letting the Pope into my bedroom. Fuck she was good at this. Her tongue worked itself around my tip, and her hands charged up and down my length in counterpoint to the motion of her head.

There was no soft glances up, no doe-eyed expression of submission. This was a woman her knew her goal and knew what she wanted to do to get there. She pulled her mouth away, while her hand continued it's motion. "You have a condom, right?" I nodded and produced one of my probably dangerously limited supply. I wasn't getting much use from them anyway. "Can you put it on yourself?"

As I tore into the package, she stripped off her bra and sweats. She hadn't even bothered to wear anything else, and in the dim light of the streetlight outside my window, I enjoyed the moment. I had gone all in and she had called my bluff. The game would probably be over after tonight, all the chips counted. But for now, I felt like things had broken my way.

"Do you want me to go down on you at all?" My question probably tipped my hand to who really had the power in this scenario. She could have told me to do anything, and I would have, if it meant I could have her for the night. "No, just fuck me. That's what we're both here for isn't it?"

She crawled up my bed, and laid her head on my not-quite-comfortable pillows. "Let's see how well you really use that thing." It was a challenge, and an invitation. I knelt between her knees, lined myself up and pushed slowly into her. "Oh fuck. Yeah, you're at least not ALL talk." Goddamn. Her little comments, whether intended to or not, made me want to prove myself even more.

"We'll see how much you can handle." I pushed slightly further and she inhaled sharply. "Yeah, this will be fun." I waited for her next quip, but it never materialized. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. "More." At her urging, I pulled my hips back, and pushed in again, deeper but slower. "Fuck, Daddy." I hadn't told her to say it, but I certainly hadn't told her not to. "Call me all talk again, and you'll find out what I'm really about." I pulled back and thrust into her again, even slower. "All. Talk." The words came out breathy and ragged, like a punch drunk boxer who can't help but keep swinging.

I grabbed her by the wrists and pinned them back into the pillows. "That's enough from you." My hips found a rhythm that I enjoyed, and I pushed my arms out, posting up against her wrists. Silently, partly out of an unspoken desire to keep this secret from my roommates, our bodies collided as I used her to get what I had been missing. I glanced down again to check in with her and found her lost in the moment. I didn't care if it was with me, or with her ex back in Maryland, or in Chris Evans. I just wanted to enjoy the moment for what it was, a brief respite from my loneliness.

I felt her clench down against me, and slower my pace. "So am I still all talk?" I probed selfishly for some validation. "There's a chance you're not. But it's your turn now." She crossed her legs behind me and pulled me into her, at her pace now. Her hands reached up behind my head and pulled my neck down into her shoulder. I felt her lips on me ear as she whispered "I want to feel you cum." She drew out the word feel, placing emphasis on her meaning. "Cum for me, daddy." Again, I hadn't told her I wanted to hear it, but the moan that involuntarily escaped me as she said it gave me away.

I felt it building with every thrust, and I tried to stave it off. I knew when I came the moment would be over, but she felt too good. After a few more minutes of trying to keep my composure, I gave into my body's need. With a final thrust I buried myself into her and let the feeling wash over me. I let myself linger for a moment, and then rolled over.

I took the condom off and tied it, while she attempted to tiptoe as quietly as she could to the bathroom my roommate and I shared. I stared at my ceiling, pondering everything that had just occurred. For the first time in the last hour, Marie popped into my thoughts. I expected to feel a weight of guilt, yet there was none. It confirmed what I had already concluded, that things there were over.

When Courtney came back, she grabbed her clothes out of their pile on my floor. The banter had faded away and in its place remained the casual exchange of two friends, two neighbors who simply helped each other get something they were missing. "I should get back before my roommates notice and start asking questions," she stated flatly, as she headed out the front door into the still falling snow. "Yeah, probably smart." I wanted her to stay, I wanted her to fall asleep in my bed, but that wasn't what this ever was going to be.

"I had fun though. We should do this again sometime." She winked as she said it, and turned away before I could reply