Chapter 8
Sue had a lot of trouble staying upright on her skis as the rope tugged her up the mountainside. She fell several times and, laughing, Rod helped her up each time. Once, when he was aiding her, he had accidentally-from behind- cupped her breasts in his hands. Or at least Sue thought it must have been an accident. The act did distract her, however. Just as though it had happened only yesterday, she remembered the events of eight years ago... his hands on her breasts, his lips on her breasts... elsewhere.
She fell again, and turned to apologize, "Sorry I'm so clumsy, Rod."
"We all have to start sometime," he said, reassuringly. "Come on, I have an idea. I'll help you. All you have to do is sort of sit in my lap, that way you can't fall."
Rod grabbed the rope and let it slip through his gloves, keeping only tight enough grip on it to permit him to remain stationary and not slide backward. "Okay," he ordered, "now come right over directly in front of me, facing uphill, with your skis outside of mine. Then I'll tell you what else to do."
Gingerly, falling only twice, Sue managed to station herself in front of him as directed.
"Now, bend your knees just a little-as if you were getting ready to sit down in a chair," he ordered. Sue followed his instructions. "Okay, grab the rope loosely... right... and now, I'm sliding up... between your skis... "
Suddenly, Sue felt his body pressing against her back and his knees against the back of her knees.
"Now... sit back a little... "
Sue pushed out her rump until it was pressing against his lap and bent her knees even further.
"Hold on to the rope with your left hand... Put my ski poles with yours in your right hand, and let them dangle by the straps. Okay... here we go... " Rod's arm snaked around her waist, and his gloved hand cupped her left breast. Then they were moving smoothly uphill.
Sue was somewhat apprehensive about his hand, and adding to it was the fact that each time they went over a small ridge of snow, his arm pressed tightly against and rubbed her right breast. Most disconcerting thing of all, she thought she could feel his penis hardening as she sat in his lap. But then again, perhaps it was all her imagination. One way or the other, she decided to ride with it... she could always stop any dishonorable intentions he might have. The only problem was, she knew her nipples had become erect; and there was an uncomfortable buildup of heat in her crotch.
After about three minutes, they reached the summit, and Rod said, "Swing clear of the rope when I yell. Now!"
Sue made a half lunge to the right and found herself face down in the snow. Rod's delighted laughter made it all seem less embarrassing. She came up, brushing the snow from the front of her sweater.
Rod said, "Let me help you," and his hands began scraping the snow off her ski pants. His hands brushed downward on the outer leg, then worked their way up the inside. When he reached the junction of her thighs he lightly brushed the snow from her pelvic area. He had stopped laughing and, for that matter, so had Sue. She was aware of his hands-even though he was wearing heavy leather gloves. "I'm going to have to watch myself," she said sternly to herself, knowing that it was one thing to fantasize about fucking her cousin, but to actually permit it would be out of the question. After all, he was married. So was she! Even so, her knees felt far weaker than they should, and that in itself was a danger signal.
Sue's itinerant mind was wrenched back to the task at hand as, without warning, her back ski slid sideways and she fell down in the snow again.
"I'm hopeless," she said.
"No... you just don't know a couple of the more fundamental things." Rod put his ski pole down for her to grab and he hauled her to an upright position. "Now watch this." He dug his lower ski into the snow and it seemed as if he also turned his ankle inward slightly in order to give it better purchase. "When you are standing still on a slope, you have to put the brakes on. This is how you do it." He showed her. "Another thing that's causing you trouble is your tendency to follow your mother's earlier instructions that a nice girl always keeps her legs crossed. In skiing, forget that. A nice, upright, girl doesn't cross her skis, ever. You ask how to keep from doing that. Simple. Watch how I lock my skis into two parallel lines. One foot slightly in back of the other... thusly!"
The lesson continued for about ten minutes, then Rod and she began a slow traverse across the face of the slope. Just the few things Rod had told her made it much easier to stay upright. She had already learned more in a few minutes from Rod than she had from four one-hour lessons at Badger Pass. Sue was actually very pleased with herself. There was something wildly exhilarating about moving soundlessly across the mountain; it was almost eaglelike, she thought, and then corrected herself by thinking, "No, it's almost a sexual feeling being way up here-just two people moving together, back and forth, back and forth."
Time and again they traversed the hill, leaving behind them tracks in the unblemished, virginal snow. Rod continuously pointed out something new that would make her skiing easier, better.
Way, way down below them, Sue could see the chalet and the road and could make out other houses here and there. Some, however, were so well hidden that she wouldn't have known they were there if smoke hadn't been coming from the chimneys. It was all so... beautiful...
"Pay attention," Rod yelled, but it was too late! Suddenly her downhill ski seemed to acquire a mind of its own and pointed downhill; her body turned with it and she began picking up speed. She screamed in fright as she went over a hummock in the snow, and then she was falling -helplessly-end over end, clown the hill. She finally came to a stop about twenty-five feet away, lying with her leg twisted beneath her. She was in pain. How badly she was hurt, she didn't know, but it felt almost as if she had broken her leg. Rod was beside her immediately. He dug his poles into the snow and kicked off his skis. "Are you all right?" he asked, staring with undisguised concern down at her leg.
"It hurts," she said, blinking back tears of pain and mortification.
"Let's see," he said, all concern. He bent quickly beside her and touched her kneecap. "Okay there?" Sue nodded. He unfastened the safety binding and gently moved her ankle. "Okay?" Again, through tear-stained eyes, Sue shook her head. He straightened her leg out, watching her face as he did so. When she didn't grimace, he looked relieved. "Nothing broken, anyway. Where does it hurt the most?"
Sue put her hand behind her and rubbed her right buttock gingerly. "Right in here."
"A bruise most likely. Your back feels okay?"
"Yes."
Rod stood, apparently satisfied. He glanced around him and nodded toward a small cabin, half hidden by the pines, about fifty yards away.
"Do you think you can make it there so I can do some first aid and check you over further?"
"I think so." She held out her hand for assistance, and Rod helped her back to her feet. Now that she was standing, the pain in her buttock seemed to have lessened somewhat, although she could feel a strain mid-thigh.
"That was a nasty fall; you could have gotten hurt," Rod said sternly, then relented in his stern composure, "I'm glad you weren't, though." He refastened her ski.
"Me, too," Sue said, experimentally moving her ski from side to side.
Rod guided her across the icy section of the snow and then used his ski pole to tow her up to the front steps of the cabin. When she bent and attempted to remove her ski, she felt a stab of pain through the back of her thigh. A grimace shot across her face.
Rod looked concerned. "What's wrong?"
"I can really feel it, right back here," she said rubbing the area.
"Sounds like only a pulled muscle," he said and he seemed relieved again that there were no broken bones.
Sue waited while Rod removed his own skis, then watched as he walked upon the porch and removed a key from a ledge above the door, lie seemed so very sure of himself that Sue felt the cabin must belong to him.
As if sensing her thoughts, Rod turned around and grinned. "This is one of ours; we use it to house some of our artist friends during the summer when they want to have some privacy and a studio of their own." A moment later, he shoved against the door and, creaking, it swung inward. "Stay there," he ordered, and disappeared inside.
He was gone for what seemed to be a long time, and Sue heard crackling noises coming from the interior. At almost the same time, she saw a huge cloud of smoke begin to billow out of the chimney.
Rod came back, shivering. "God, it's cold in there. I've built a fire; it will warm up in three or four minutes."
Sue began to feel some uncertainty. She really wasn't sure she wanted to be alone in an isolated cabin with her cousin, not that she couldn't trust him or herself, but why put temptation before either one of them. "Rod... I think I might be able to get down the hill... I mean, there's no need to go to all this trouble... "
Rod actually looked stern. "I'm not letting you ski again until we know exactly what's wrong with your leg. If necessary, I'll go down, get the Snow-cat, and then come back and haul you down. Understand?"
Sue nodded, feeling suitably chastized for questioning the instructor.
Rod disappeared into the interior of the cabin again, and a moment later came back. "Okay. The chill is off. Come on in."
Sue limped inside. It was a rather pleasant place, she thought, in spite of its dimness and its mildew odor of disuse. All of the windows had been boarded up and the only light came from the flickering fireplace and three candles which Rod had set up on top of the bar. Sue moved instinctively toward the fireplace and felt the welcome heat while she was still six feet away from it. Although burning only five or six minutes now, the logs were already cracking and popping.
Rod removed his gloves and bulky ski sweater, revealing he was wearing only a thin white sleeveless knit shirt beneath. He came over and knelt in front of Sue. "Let's get the boots off," he said, "so I can check your ankle and lower leg." His hands were gentle and his movements careful as he unbuckled her boot and eased her foot from it. "Hurt?" he asked, and Sue, staring down with mixed emotions at the top of his head, answered, "No."
"Let's get the other one off," he said, "That is, if this one foot can stand the weight."
Sue balanced herself on her injured leg and was gratified that there was no pain. Quickly Rod removed her other ski boot, and Sue suddenly felt two inches smaller. "The sweater now," he ordered, and she pulled the sweater up over her head, knowing instinctively that Rod was staring at her breasts outlined beneath her tight white nylon body shirt. This instinctive knowledge brought a crimson blush to her face.
Rod expertly checked the deeper muscles of her calf and the back of her thigh. Sue winced when he hit one particular spot about mid-thigh. He nodded as if her reactions had confirmed his suspicions.
"Okay," he said, without preamble, "drop your pants."
"What?" Sue exclaimed, shocked.
"Come on, cousin. Don't be bashful. There's no way I can really tell how badly you're hurt until we see whether the flesh is bruised or if your tendon has popped. You're going to have to take your pants off."
"But Rod," she wailed in embarrassment. "I'm all right. Really, I feel fine."
"You do, eh?" he asked, and then pressed against her mid-thigh.
"Ouch! That hurts."
Rod didn't answer, the expression on his face was rebuke enough for her silly behavior.
Sue felt her face burning in shame. Ordinarily, she would have done what was requested of her, but this morning-when she had decided to wear the body shirt which fastened at her crotch with three snaps-she had put on the skimpiest pair of bikini panties in her suitcase. If she removed her ski pants, she would be-to all intents and purposes-practically naked down there. There really was no choice. "Oh, all right," she said, and before she could change her mind or think up further excuses, unzipped her ski pants. She peeled them down over her flaring hips and they fell to her knees, where the kneeling Rod supported her right leg while he removed her pants from her left foot. A moment later she was standing there-feeling foolish and a little something else... almost breathless-as Rod rolled the flesh above her ankle to check for sprains. She could feel the heat from the fireplace against her bare flesh and an errant thought, quickly suppressed, flashed across her mind: I wonder what it would be like to lie completely naked on that rug and feel the heat on my breasts and have Rod, completely naked, take me in his arms and... I mustn't think that, she thought sternly.
But when Rod's capable hands began kneading the flesh of her calf, she felt no pain-only pleasure, a warm deep-seated sensual pleasure, a portent of things to come-and the wicked thought returned.