Chapter 12
The insistent ringing of the telephone finally woke Christine up. It seemed as though she had just fallen asleep as she reached wearily for the receiver.
It was Sandy.
She sat up alertly and apologized for having overslept. After promising she would be downstairs in twenty minutes, she leaped out of bed, took a quick shower, dressed and joined Sandy in the restaurant in exactly twenty-three minutes.
She assured him it was a record as she sat down to a breakfast of juice, eggs and coffee. The second cup of black coffee finally unfogged her brain and they left the restaurant.
As Sandy strapped the loaded pack on his shoulders, Christine asked at the desk if Dan had come down to breakfast. He hadn't. She wrote a note, detailing her plans for the day and left it with the desk clerk.
As Sandy handed Christine her snow shoes, she noticed, for the first time, the huge pack.
"What do you have in there? Provisions for a week?" she asked.
"Walking in snow-make you hungry," Sandy pointed out. "I have chicken, cheese, French bread, fruit-much of each and two bottles chianti."
"I couldn't eat that much in three days," she laughed.
"You see-you be more hungry than you think when we get to cabin."
They went out into the crackling cold morning. The sun shined brightly in the cloudless sky, its brilliant rays bounced off the white snow causing them to squint. Once they had donned the anti-glare goggles, they walked to the ski lift that took them-up to the highest slope. A t-bar took them up another five hundred feet, where they took off their skis, put on their snow shoes and began the trek to the line cabin.
The view was breathtaking as they looked across the valley below. The chalets, lodges and hotels nestled in folds of pure white; tall, stately pines were dressed in mantles of fluffy down. The untrod snow glistened with a kaleidoscope of sparkling colors as it reflected the sun's rays. It was so quiet and serene and beautiful and peaceful that Christine could feel tears welling up in her eyes.
Every once in a while a snow squirrel would skitter up to them, curiously wiggle its tiny nose and then scamper off, its furry tail beating at the air.
They entered a small saddle between two pine-covered peaks and sat to rest on a huge boulder.
"It is beautiful-yes?" Sandy asked.
"It's breathtaking," Christine answered and raised her face to the warm rays of the sun, breathing deeply of the cold, crisp air.
"It remind me of Norway. Whenever I feel-how do you say? Sick for home?"
"Homesick," she said, supplying the word with a warm smile.
"Ya-homesick-I come up here and I feel good."
Rested up, they continued up the snow-covered slopes. As they reached the top of a sharp rise, Sandy pointed and said, "There it is."
The log cabin, nestled in the protecting bosom of a reverse escarpment, was surrounded by snow-laden pine trees.
It was much larger than Christine had anticipated. Six wooden bunk beds lined one side of the large main room. In the center of one wall was a huge open fireplace, with a large leather couch in front of it. To the right of the fireplace a door led into a small bedroom with a double wooden bed. The main room had plenty of furniture, including a rough dining table. There was enough wood stacked along the walls to keep a roaring fire stoked for three weeks.
Sandy placed the pack on the table, zipped out of his windbreaker, pulled off the heavy patterned sweater and slipped out of his ski pants, revealing a pair of bermuda shorts underneath. He opened the pack, pulled out a pair of sheepskin-lined slippers and put them on.
"You set table and I will make big fire."
She watched him a moment as he expertly went about the task of building a fire from scratch.
Off came her windbreaker and sweater. She dug into the pack and spread the tablecloth across the rough table surface. As she spread the food on the table, the aroma of the food titillated her senses.
"You were right, Sandy."
He looked up as the first flickers of flame began to rise and the smell of burning pine started to permeate the room. "I was? About what?"
"I am absolutely famished. I hope you brought enough food."
He laughed. "Just like I tell you-huh?"
"Just like," she agreed and went back to her work. Sandy fanned the fire with a piece of cardboard and it sprang to fiery life. He went to Christine as she was searching through the pack. "What you look for?" he asked. "I think you forgot to bring silverware and glasses." she said as she dropped the pack to the floor.
"I don't forget," he said as he walked to the cupboards beside the sink. He opened a drawer and took out silverware. He opened a cupboard door, revealing glasses, cups and dishes. He opened the rest of the cupboard doors and she saw that they were filled to brimming with canned food and bottles of brandy.
"This is emergency cabin. If people caught in snowstorm, they stay here-plenty of food-plenty of wood. When storm stops-they go. The hotel pay for it."
"That's marvelous. I imagine many lives have been saved."
"Many. Even I use it one time in storm."
He put the silverware and glasses on the table and opened a bottle of wine as Christine set the knives and forks.
The fire was roaring and the cabin was warm, the sound of crackling logs danced through the air, as they sat down to eat.
"Why you don't get comfortable?" Sandy asked.
"I am comfortable."
"You be more comfortable with ski pants off. It make your stomach free to eat more."
"I didn't have your foresight. I haven't any shorts to put on."
"You don't need shorts. Put on my sweater." He handed her the sweater. "Go-put on sweater-go in bedroom."
She took it and walked hesitantly to the door.
"Go on-put on sweater," he ordered.
She went in as Sandy poured wine in their glasses. The sweater hung loosely to the middle of her thighs, the sleeves extended six inches past her fingers, and her body was lost somewhere in the midst of that expanse of wool.
Sandy roared with laughter as she flapped the loose ends of the sleeves in the air. She joined him.
"It's going to be a little difficult eating," she pointed out amid the laughter.
"I fix." He rolled the sleeves above her wrists and they sat down to eat.
The long hike and thin air had combined to give her a ravenous appetite. She didn't think it possible but they finished every morsel of food-and she more than held up her end. One bottle of wine was finished with the meal. The other was opened as they sat on the couch in front of the crackling fire.
"You have good time?" Sandy asked as he gave her a glass of wine.
"Marvelous," she cooed, as she stretched, causing the sweater to hike up, allowing Sandy to see her soft "V," covered only by the sheer white panties.
She brought her feet up on the couch and curled up contentedly. She was exposing her whole luscious bottom and didn't give a damn. She was full and warm and happy.
Sandy slid next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She put her legs over his and snuggled against his chest. His free hand came to rest on her leg an inch below her crotch. He made little circles on the inside of her thigh with his forefinger and she started to purr.
Her eyelids felt heavy as she lifted her face to meet his lips. His tongue darted into her opening mouth and searched every crevice. When she started to move her ass from the growing intensity in her loins, Sandy put the palm of his hand over her smoldering cunt, and she pushed it up to meet him.
He massaged her twat through the sheer cloth as she wriggled her ass to get the full effect, while their tongues and mouths sucked with spine-tingling results.
She pulled off the bulky sweater, allowing her naked tits to absorb the heat of the fire.
Sandy's mouth immediately zeroed in on the luscious tit winking up at him. He nibbled on the taut nipple as Christine squirmed in his lap.
She could feel his hardened cock, pressing against the back of her thigh. She moved her leg and reached eagerly for the swollen muscle. When she grabbed it in her hand, she felt a slight twinge of disappointment as she realized she was meeting a smaller member of the prick family. It was only half the size of Dan's cock and less than that of Jim's. But she shrugged it off-not everyone was as big as Dan or Jim, she surmised. She began to stroke it, thinking, "What the hell, a cock is a cock-if he knows how to use it-we'll make out fine."
She unzipped his fly and pulled it out-it was even smaller than she thought. It was no more than four inches from balls to tip, but it was thick to her; that was some consolation.
Her box was red hot-anything rammed into that ravenous cunt of hers would do the trick, the way she felt.
She wriggled and squirmed as his hand, rubbing against the material of her panties, caused a searing friction and the heat only made her pussy ache more for a fuck.
He lifted her off his lap and put her in a kneeling I position, her back to him. Quickly his pants flew off and he moved in behind her on his knees. His thick cock slipped between her legs, pressing the material of her panties into her slippery slit.
She wondered why he didn't pull her panties off and ram his stubby cock home.
A hand cupped over each throbbing tit and he pulled her back into him, as the hands massaged and rolled the nipples. His hot mouth laved her neck, shoulders and ears. She was going out of her mind waiting for that cock to ram into her and send her soaring.
Slowly he bent her forward, his mouth traveling down her back. His hands kept up the sensitive manipulation of her tits, while his cock continued sliding back and forth-on the outside of her inflamed pussy.
His hands left her tits when she rested on the arm of the couch. His cock backed off and she felt her panties being taken off.
At long fucking last, she thought, he's going to stick that thick, stubby cock in me-probably from behind so he can get every inch in.
She felt his mouth sucking the cheeks of her ass, his fingers tracing the deep crack between the cheeks. His hot tongue roamed the firm flesh, drawing strange patterns in saliva as his fingers massaged the puckering rosette. Millions of sharp tingles raced up and down her spine as his tongue dipped in at the top of her cleavage and began to lick downward, closer and closer to her pink anus. He reached it with his tongue and she forgot about his cock-the titillating tongue flicking at the rosette sent overwhelming shocks to every nerve in her body. She felt his strong hands spreading her cheeks, the thumbs forcing the tight muscle of her anus to open as his tongue forced itself into the opening.
She pushed back ecstatically-it was driving her up a wall-she wanted that hot tongue in her ass.
He forced it in, all the way-and while his lips worked wetly about her rosette, his tongue reamed her. It slid back and forth, around and about-she contracted the muscle, working it about the tongue-she shivered and shook and groaned as the tongue and lips worked her to a fever pitch.
Abruptly, he left her with a slurping sound. She cried, "No," in anguish as the loving tongue left her tight hole.
His tongue was replaced by the stubby cock. The strong thumbs once again forced a small opening and he pushed the head in. She screamed in agony-it felt like he was splitting her in two.
She tried to move off the impaling cock, but the strong arm around her middle held her on it. He moved slowly, back and forth-and slowly the pain left and was replaced by delirious joy-he moved in more-it hurt, but not as much as before. Again he moved slowly back and forth until all the pain was gone, and she groaned with the pleasure being stuffed into her ass.
He grabbed her by the hips and with a mighty lunge, plunged in all the way.
Her screams of pain filled the cabin, but he held her tight, not moving-waiting until the pain subsided. It finally did and he began to stroke-long, easy, full strokes. Christine's ass began to move with his and his fingers went into her dripping cunt to tease her clitoris.
The pure bliss of having that thick cock sliding in her ass was indescribable.
Her body was building rapidly to an orgasm. Their sweating bodies worked at a blurry pace. In and out his thick hot cock raced, around and around his fingers worked on her clit. She strained and huffed and puffed in her frenzied desire to reach a climax. She loved it-every blinding, flashing fucking minute that his thick prick fucked her ass.
A blinding flash enveloped her. He drove into her and stiffened. His hot thick come spurted up her rectal passage and she screamed in agonizing delight as the viscous sperm flooded her insides.
"Oh, that fat beautiful cock-that fat beautiful cock," she screamed as her orgasm trailed off and she sunk forward, Sandy riding her down, his cock remaining buried deep in her ass.
They lay in that position, Sandy on top of Christine, until his prick shriveled out of her ass. He rolled over. She snuggled up close to him and they fell into a well-deserved sleep.
When they awakened, the wind was howling like a pack of hungry wolves, whipping the snow into whirling sheets. It was impossible to see twenty feet outside of the window.
Christine slipped into her panties and put on the sweater, while Sandy donned his bermuda shorts, shirt and slippers. They looked out the window.
"I'm frightened," Christine admitted.
Sandy put his arm around her, "No need to be frightened-this cabin good and strong. He have plenty food and plenty wood. When storm finish-we go down." His strong arm around her and his reassuring words calmed her.
"How long do you think it will last," she asked.
"Maybe few hours-maybe all night. It hard to say."
"Is there any way I can let Dan know that I'm all right? He'll be worried sick."
Sandy laughed uproariously.
She smiled, but didn't know why. She couldn't imagine what she had said that was so humorous. "What's so funny?"
"You funny. You think we lost in wilderness. You want to talk with Dan-you use telephone." He continued laughing as he pointed to the telephone in the far corner of the room.
She looked sheepishly at the phone and started laughing lightly herself, as much from his great amusement as form her own embarrassment. She had been a little dramatic-too many late, late shows on TV had left their mark.
"Well-we could have been cut off from the outside world. It happens you know," she said dramatically in her defense.
Sandy stumbled weakly to the couch, the more she spoke-the more he laughed. He plopped on the couch, his sides beginning to hurt from the laughter. A pique of anger had started to grow in Christine, but his hearty laugh was contagious-she was laughing almost as loud as he as she went to the phone.
Nutty Norwegian, she thought as she waited for the operator.
Dan got on the telephone.
"Hello," Dan said, his voice tight and edged with anger.
"Dan-I just wanted you to know that I'm safe. I'm at an emergency cabin in the mountains and I'll have to stay here until the storm blows over."
"That's great-just great. I suppose that fucking Norwegian has been all over you like an octopus!"
"Stop ranting like an outraged husband! I'm a big girl now and I can take care of myself!" she shot back angrily.
"Sure you can! Just like you did in New York! What do you want to do? Become a common slut?"
"All I want to do is let you know that I'm safe-I don't want to discuss my morality over a party line! Good-bye!"
She slammed the receiver into the cradle and walked back to the couch, shaking with anger at Dan's cruel attempt to make her reswallow the bitter memory of New York.
She sat on the floor beside the couch, her head resting on Sandy's chest.
"He is mad?" Sandy asked.
"So am I!" she answered, mentally pitting her anger against Dan's. "Who the hell does he think he is? Fuck him! Let him stay mad!" she spit out her anger in those few words and relaxed, the anger easing out of her.
Sandy's fingers combed through her soft hair and massaged her head lightly. She purred at the soothing effect, a great sense of well-being enveloped her.
Her own hand slipped under Sandy's shirt, her nails scraped lightly across his well-muscled abdomen. She let her hand follow the soft fuzz downward until she reached the top of his shorts. He sucked in his flat tummy. She slipped her hand past the tight beltline and continued down to his awakening cock.
Her fingers explored the soft, curly pubic hair. He shifted his position. His prick was within easy reach of her searching, fondling fingers.
She let one finger circle lightly about the fat head of his stubby prick.
When he unzipped his fly, she moved the thick muscle to the opening, wetting her lips as she did.
Her mouth was opening to accept the fat head, when the front door flew open. The howling, cold wind blew swirls of snow into the room along with four cold people.
Sandy quickly shoved his ready cock back into his shorts and zipped up as the door slammed shut.
They rose pleasantly to greet the unwelcome drop-ins.
The two men, Carl and Daryl, were thirty-year-olds. The two girls, Ruth and Rena, were in their early twenties. Ruth was a short-haired redhead and Rena was a long-haired brunette. That was all that could be seen at first observation--their bulky clothes hid whatever other virtues they possessed from view.
They had been cross-country skiing when they were caught by the sudden storm. They recounted the story as they stood in front of the roaring fire, trying to drive the cold from their frozen bodies. They gulped the brandy that Sandy poured for them and the warmth of it spread through their bodies, allowing the aching and cold muscles to loosen and respond to the warmth.
They shed their outer garments and lazed around the fire, absorbing its welcome heat.
"You must be starved," Christine said, felling a little stupid for not having thought of it sooner.
"Famished," was the unanimous answer.
The girls thought Christine looked darling in the sloppy sweater and they sought their boyfriend's sweaters-not bothering to go into the bedroom to change.
Their attributes were no longer a secret-both girls were stacked. Sandy beheld their charms with prurient appreciation-so did Christine, but not quite as obviously as Sandy.
Although the meal came from cans, their hunger changed the normal staples into a gourmet's delight. Even Christine gorged herself again-she hadn't realized how hungry she was until she sat down at the table. The workout she had gotten from Sandy's thick penis and the long, hard day had made her unusually hungry.
It was black outside when they finally finished eating. The screaming wind had picked up in intensity, the snow slammed against the windows in sheets, but the warmth of the cabin gave them all a feeling of secure contentment.
As they retired to the couch with a fresh bottle of brandy, Carl and Daryl decided that they, too, should be comfortable, so they stripped down to their thermal long Johns.
Sandy and Christine snuggled up on one side of the couch, while Carl and Ruth snuggled up on the other side. Daryl spread out on his back on the huge, bulky coffee table in front of the couch as Rena sat on the floor beside him. It was a picture of romantic contentment. A roaring fire-the snow and wind kept safely out by the sturdy cabin-warm brandy to fire the insides-and men and women giving pleasure to each other.
As Daryl stretched his arms, his back arching on the hard surface of the table, he sighed, "Oh boy-a little sex now would make the day complete."
"Don't let us stop you," Carl encouraged.
"Be our guest," Christine excitedly chimed in.
"Yeah-yeah-a little entertainment for our hosts," Ruth suggested.
Christine moved her mouth to Sandy's ear and asked, "You don't mind, do you?"
Sandy slipped his hand up the loose sweater and fondled her breast. She smiled.
"You don't mind," she said and let her hand rest on his limp cock.
Rena faced the people on the couch and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen-I will perform a feat of magic never before witnessed in a cabin in a howling snow storm." She unbuttoned Daryl's underwear and pulled out his limp prick. "Before your eyes," she continued, "I will transform this limp hunk of meat into a stiff, rigid, belching monster-and my fingers will never leave my hand."
The audience applauded and shouted, "Hear-hear!"
Rena cupped the hanging balls in one soft palm, while she worked the soft meat in her other hand. It stirred-the blood flowed into the cock, it jerked bit by bit to rigid attention. It swelled to eight full inches in her deft manipulation. She wrapped her fist around the stem, holding it like a torch, showing one and all the results of her magical feat.
As she bowed to thunderous applause, she posed a question, "Now, that I've created the monster-what do I do with it?"
Daryl was panting anxiously as he blurted out, "It's a serious problem. I think you should take it into your head and digest it a while."
"That's it," she exclaimed, "Excuse me folks while I chew on the problem."
She faced the throbbing staff, opened her mouth wide and swooped down on it, engulfing the head and four inches of cock in her luscious, siphoning lips.
It set the mood for all-lust permeated the air. The animalistic odor of passion hung like a pall.
Christine had Sandy's cock out and in her mouth before it was fully hard. But it grew rapidly in the warm sucking mouth. She thrilled as the blood pumped into the organ, swelling it to its full thickness. She felt a sense of power.
Daryl emitted deep guttural sounds as his cock spurted its life giving juice into Rena's eager, sucking mouth.
Carl and Ruth were stripped naked as Christine came up for a breath of air. She caught a glimpse of Carl's massive cock as he dove into Ruth's wide-spread cunt. His face was lost in the enveloping lips. She looked quickly to the coffee table and saw Rena straddle Daryl's face, his cock still in her mouth.
A little "69" to perk up the digestion, she thought-and the thought excited her. Her cunt itched for a hot tongue in it.
The thought was still in her mind as she ran her lips down the length of Sandy's cock. She was able to get it all in her mouth, while her tongue extended and licked at his balls. His legs and ass quivered, as the raptures of her mouth and tongue spread through him.
Christine felt a hand at her inflamed cunt. She knew it wasn't Sandy's. Both of his hands were busy pressing, rolling and fondling her tits.
She felt hands pulling her panties off and she lifted her ass to make it easy for whomever was doing it, at the same time she slid down to bring her pussy within easier reach of the invader.
When she felt a hot mouth at the entrance to her cunt she had to look-she had to know who belonged to that hot, wonderful, suctioning mouth.
She looked and saw Ruth's red hair bouncing between her legs-her legs spread wider so Ruth could get at the little nub that was waiting eagerly.
They all sucked voraciously, hungrily and brought about a climax like a chain reaction, their moans bounced around the room with the ferocity of the howling wind outside.
Ruth quickly switched her position and gobbled Carl's eight-inch tool into her mouth, as Carl lay back savoring the delightful hotness chewing on his dick.
Sandy had spent his load in Christine's mouth and relaxed against the arm of the couch while Christine looked for new worlds to conquer. She saw one. Ruth's ass was up in the air as she bent over sliding up and down on Carl's tool. Christine bent over, grabbed Ruth by the thighs and pushed her mouth up into the lovely cunt, savoring her love juices. She had the clit pressed between her lips when she felt Sandy's thick cock nosing around at her ass. She spread her legs wide and felt that thick extension force its way in-the pain was momentary and caused her to bite Ruth's stiff clit, bringing a cry of pain. The pain disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, and she squirmed her ass getting every thrill she could out of that pulsing prick in her rectum.
The orgasms came in rapid succession, more wild, more convulsive that the last. They all went limp in a heap of smoldering, moldering, limp meat.
Daryl and Rena had been forgotten, they had gone on their merry way-their faces buried deep in each other's crotch, bringing on climax after climax and now they, too, came up for air.
They looked at the mass of tangled bodies-limp cocks and oozing pussies.
"What's the matter, kids-didn't you like the show?" Ruth asked as she feigned a deep hurt.
"If there's one thing I can't stand it's an unappreciative audience," Daryl chimed in with mock anger.
"Let's see if they're still alive." Rena suggested. They got off the table and went down the row of bodies. Lifting a limp prick and letting it drop-sticking a finger in a wet cooze to see it there was any reaction.
They looked at each other.
"We going to let them cop out?" Daryl asked.
"Fuck, no," Rena responded.
"You take them two," Daryl suggested, pointing to Sandy and Christine, "I'll take these two lumps."
The two of them went to work, fondling, kneading sucking and tonguing the spent foursome until the banked fires began to burn again.
Well into the night, the compatable sixsome partook of each other-in pairs and en mass. They fucked, sucked, ate, and felt one another until there wasn't an ounce of strength left in them.
The last thing Christine decided before she collapsed into a sleep-was that she was definitely not a one-man woman or a one-woman woman-she belonged to the world of cocks and cunts. Huge pricks and gaping cunts floated in a never ending parade as she dreamed the night away.