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Page 15.
 I was resigned to just being around her, which was very enjoyable. I couldn’t ski to save my life, but I loved sitting in the great lounge with its crackling fire place and watching all the ski people. They come from all over the region to places like Stowe. When the first flakes twirl, the highways are choked with cars heading here with skis on their racks. That night, I slept on a sort of large wooden box with thick Mexican rugs and a quilt on top. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "I'd give you my sleeping bag but it's way too small for you." She laughed. "And it's pink." We both laughed.
Next morning, we had a nice breakfast overlooking sun-bright slopes. "Oh gosh, I hope it snows, or at least doesn't melt before we leave." She went skiing for a few hours. She waved to me, a petite figure in a pink paramilitary suit of some kind (okay, I'm joking, that's what she called it). She waved and pulled these cool tanker goggles down over her face and disappeared among the legions of people in similar clothing dispersed in all directions. Toward noon, she came into the lodge with her tongue hanging out. "Want to stay through tomorrow?" she asked.
"I'd be happy to," I said. She asked, "Enjoying yourself?" I smiled and told her honestly, "It's great up here. What a nice change for me."
She patted my leg. "Good. I'll make the arrangements."
We sat by the fire and drank hot chocolate. She was tired and went upstairs for a nap. I went into a viewing room and saw a movie. When I went up to the room, she was just beginning to wake up. She had fallen asleep in her pink suit, with just neck open a little, and a blanket over her shoulders. Her stockings, protruding from the pink ankles of her suit, were thick, wheat-colored crew socks.
She stretched and yawned. "Hi!"
"Have a good rest?"
"Yep." She patted the bed beside her. "Sit here." As I sat, she rose up and bounded past me. "Back in a minute." She disappeared into the bathroom, where I heard muted tinkling sounds, then the flushing of water, then the rush of water at the sink, and the sound of someone gargling. After a moment of silence, the door opened and she jumped out. "Ta-dah!" She hopped on one leg, with her arms extended like a skater. I applauded. She had stripped down to a flimsy tank top (pink) and equally flimsy panties (pink). Aside from that, she still wore the heavy crew socks.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked.
She shook her head as she walked past me and crawled onto the bed. "I have you to keep me warm." She lifted the covers, crawled inside, and held them open for me.
"I am honored," I said as I started in.
"Take those off," she said, pointing to my jeans, flannel shirt, and heavy socks, not to mention my long johns. I stripped off the jeans, socks, and shirt. "All of it," she said. I complied, and slipped into the warmth beside her. I felt the smoothness of her thigh against mine. She lay on her side facing me. She propped herself up on one elbow, with her chin and cheek in her palm, a pensive pose. She patted my chest with her other palm. "You don't have to sleep on the trunk again."
"Thank God," I said.
She laughed at my rolling eyes and groan.
"It was not only hard, but too short for me."
"I'm sorry about that." She patted my chest. "You did very well though."
"That was a test, huh?"
She nodded. Out from behind the bed came a baseball bat. She uttered that wild, happy laugh again. "I wasn't really gonna brain you—just scare you if you turned out to be a wild-man." The bat rattled loudly as she dropped it on the floor behind her.
I lay regarding her. She was petite, with features I found exotically pretty. Everything about her was compact, firm, not delicate but scaled down. As a skier, she had surprisingly hard little hands as I learned when we intertwined fingers and stared at each other. "I felt," she said, "that I wanted to have you, to help you. I thought you would be a lot of fun to be with, and I'm happy you came along."
"I'm glad I passed the test."
"Let's go slow. We have all day and all night. I'm going to go out on the slopes again for a while before dark, but I'd like you to check out my slopes before then."
"I'll be glad to help you with that. Do you mind if I inspect your slopes first? Get the lay of the land?"
"I think we should light the pilot with a good long kiss."
"I think that's a great idea." I leaned forward and sought her mouth with mine. Her tongue was short, her mouth small, and her breath smelled of toothpaste. I cupped her breast, which was wobbly and pointy in its flimsy shirt. We petted lightly for a good long while. It was quiet in the room with its blond wood theme and its thick storm windows that cut out both the chill outside (minus 40) and the noise from the slopes. A small fire crackled in a black iron fireplace across the room. We had time and attention only for each other. My hands roved all over her small body, from her ankles and calves up her thighs and around the softness of her buttocks. I rubbed her belly button with my fingertip and she giggled. "Push the button and you giggle," I said. She reached down and pushed mine, as if in an elevator. "Nothing happens when I push yours."
"I'm stuck on hard," I said.
She held both hands over her mouth and squealed, her eyes thin squiggles above her (pink) fingernails. I rolled onto my back and pulled her on top of me. She still wore the tank top and panties. Her little titties bobbled provocatively behind the material. I reached up and touched each soft nipple through the cotton. "They get hard," she promised. "You just have to turn me on some more, and I'm sure you will."
"I like it when your titties hang over me like that."
Her breath came hard and hot, and her eyes smoldered over me.
"I'm going to pull up your shirt and look at them. Will you like that?"
She nodded slowly. "Only if you do it slowly, like you mean it." She gritted her teeth at me. It was the first sign of the passion to come.
"I'm going to lift your shirt now." I pulled at the hem, seeing the belly button underneath, and the soft yellow skin. I pulled her slightly toward me, exerting a little power on the shirt.
She gritted her teeth and looked defiant. "Do you dare?"
"You can't stop me."
"I can stop you." She wriggled her ass against my cock, which was hard and naked and pushed the flimsy panty material in to the crack of her ass. "I dare you. I defy you. Are you man enough?" She took my wrists in her fists and pushed them back over my head. I let her, although for a moment I seriously wondered if I had the strength to counter this wiry little bitch. She was small and soft on the surface, but like a steel coil underneath. "Suffer," she said through those gritted teeth as she swung her chest from side to side, and those pointy titties were grayish shadows bouncing under the shirt right before my face.
"You know I am going to end up licking them before we are done."
"I don't know that. Are you man enough?"
"I am going to end up sucking them. You know I will. It's only a matter of time. You can't hold me back forever."
"I can slap you around and hold you anywhere I want." She crossed my wrists, held them with one steely hand, and reached in back of her to take my cock in her palm. "You have a big dick, but I am not scared of it."
"You will have that dick inside of you after I kiss your titties."
"I am not going to let you do that so easily. You think I am small and easy, and because you are nice looking I am an easy @. You will have to beg and work and sweat before I let you touch me." She thrust one breast against my eye.
I raised my mouth and took the cotton in my lips, and with it the cone of her nipple. She teased me by withdrawing it. She turned slightly and brought her other nipple close but pulled it away before my mouth could close on it. So she was a tease. I told her: "You are an expert at this torture. You are a cock tease, bitch."
"@er!" she spat at me. "@er!"
"Is your oyster dripping wet all over me?" I said weakly.
"You wish, big guy. Hah!" She took her hand off my cock and stuck it in her panties and brought her fingers out. She offered them to me.
I leaned forward to suck on them. "I can taste your salty oyster milk on those fingers."
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