I love snowy days and yesterday in Utah it was a grand one! I love the way snow just silences the whole world. It’s as if it pulls a white blanket over everything and just makes us snuggle down. I love the way the light is diffused through the clouds. You can’t even make out the orb of the sun, but everything is still aglow with the gray light. Some people hate that, but not me. It’s like I’m a figurine inside my own personal snow globe, the center of a tiny white world.
For all I care, the sidewalks can stay unshoveled for a while, but not for my dear husband. Whenever so much as a single snowflake falls he’s calculating how long before he should shovel it. I think he loves the labor of it. He’d fantasize about being one of those coal shovelers on board the Titanic. But I’d rather be several decks above, being drawn by Jack like one of his French girls.
It is sexy to watch him work though. To see his strong back and muscles at work. To watch his face redden with the cold and with the labor. It’s primal. It’s erotic. I watched him work yesterday from the comfort of our bedroom window and freshly showered in my bathrobe. I was warm and soft. He was hard and bitterly cold. So completely different and only a dozen or so yards apart. He finished his labor and I decided to reward him. I went to our front room, the kind you reserve for visitors, the “nicer room” of the house. It was bright from the reflected light on the snow, the blinds wide open. I undid my soft robe and let it fall to the floor. I stood naked in that front room.
I thought of how the next time we had visitors they would sit on our couches but never know that I stood there naked as the day I was born. I felt more naked than usual as I’d recently shaved and was bare below my waist. It was colder without my robe and my skin prickled with the change. My nipples wrinkled and hardened. There was also the risk of anyone walking by looking in the window and seeing me standing there. But anyone walking by in that storm would have had their head down. I laid my robe down like a blanket on the floor and spread myself upon it. I had made an indoor picnic and served myself up as a course.
As I waited for my husband to come back in through the garage I ran my fingers over my body. The tips of my fingers were starting to get cold. I could still smell the creamy floral scent of my body lotion that I’d just applied a few minutes prior. Eventually the door opened and my husband came in. A swirl of frigid arctic air followed him in and blew over me a room away. My nipples stood fully erect, almost painful. I wanted them sucked on to soften them and warm them.
He came in, rubbing his hands together and saw me lying there on the floor. I was smiling at him playfully and he laughed in surprise. “Body-to-body contact is the best way to warm up,” I told him.
“Well then, I’d better hurry. It’s medically required. You don’t want me dying of cold-exposure. My hands are freezing though!” He said.
“I’ll warm them for you.” He pulled his sweater over his head and revealed his wooly chest. It was adorable to watch him fumble through it. His hands were still frozen and his cheeks were still blushed from the freezing air. He undid his belt and slid off his jeans and underwear together. He penis and balls were shriveled and cold. “The Frightened Turtle” to quote Jerry Seinfeld. But I didn’t care. A decade of marriage means that you accept people the way they are. You find their everyday body sexy and little things like shoveling the sidewalk can drive you crazy.
He crawled down on the floor and I could feel the cold radiating off his body. He touched me and I yelped in shock. He was so cold! It was like being tickled all over and he enjoyed torturing me. We rolled around and laughed and I screamed from his icy grip with a smile on my face. We kissed and his cold mouth met my warm and soft one. The difference in temperature was exhilarating. Our kisses lasted long and were deep. I ran my fingers through his chest hair, rubbing warmth through his body. I trailed down across his stomach down between his legs.
His scrotum was shriveled and cold. His penis too. I broke away from our kiss and planted a trail of kissed where my hand had just been, down his furry chest and belly. I took his tiny shriveled cock in my mouth. It was cool and soft and tasted good. I rubbed my hot tongue over it as though I was trying to breathe life back into it. It began to warm in my mouth and it began to grow. The head enlargened and grew smooth and finally, it couldn’t fit all in my mouth. I imagined the cock was staying the same but my mouth was shrinking smaller and smaller. The image made me laugh.
Soon it was a hard and rigid shaft. I cupped his balls in one hand and worked the tight scrotum. It too began to soften, like I was kneading dough. His testicles rolled in my palm as I ran my tongue up and down his shaft. He was moaning and each sound he made caused a tingling sensation between my legs. I was wet and my lips were swelling, the little bead of my clitoris was erect I knew. My thighs getting slick near my slit.
I wanted to ride him and so I did. I climbed up on him and straddled him. I took his hard shaft in one hand. I guided between my legs. I directed his tip back and forth over my slick and slippery slit to lubricate him up. Then gently I lowered myself down on him. I felt every inch of him slide in me and we were one.
Sex is so primal, so instinctual. I don’t remember ever being taught what to do. You just know. I don’t know how I knew to ride a man with his cock filling me inside, I just did. In those moments I lose myself. I slip out of time and become a bundle of sensations. I was warmth and heat and wetness and softness. He was cold and hardness. My breasts heaved and waved in front of his face with each thrust of my hips. He grabbed my butt and spread and closed my cheeks holding me tight as I rode him and he thrust inside me at the same time.
My orgasm was building. I felt him spasms and could feel the pulses of his cock as he came inside me. I continued to ride and grind and soon my legs shook violently as I too came. His hot seed dripped out of me and I let it fall back on him.
We held each other on the floor for a space of time afterward. Two figures at the center of our own snow globe. The heated core at the center of a cold storm.
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