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"I'm freezing my butt off!" I
whispered to Craig as we traipsed behind his parents at the
new Buck Snort Christmas Tree Farm & Emporium located in
southern Ohio. We circled, then walked by yet another
perfect-looking Douglas fir. (Or blue spruce or
pine...potato, pa-tah-toe...they all looked the same to me.)
I'd always gone for the
reusable plastic variety of Christmas tree myself. Not as
atmospheric, certainly, but there was no debating that it
was a heck of a lot easier to pull branches out of a box
than to hike through snowy tundra for over an hour.
"Even my underwear feels
soggy," I muttered, sinking ankle deep into the pristine
white trails, unmarked after the five inches of accumulated
"flurries." Flurries? Ha!
"That's what you get for
making snow angels, angel." Craig tugged on one end of my
snow-logged scarf, pulling me closer. He skimmed his hand
down my back and over my bottom, copping a feel through
three layers of clothing (my jeans, satin panties, and
parka). "The minute we were out of the car, you were on the
ground. I told you to wait."
"Yeah, well you could have
told me we'd be out here longer than it takes ice to freeze.
In 70° weather." I wiggled my hips so his palm could reach
my other cheek. "I feel like a freaking snow cone," I
complained, "without the cherry syrup."
"Ummm, cherries..." Craig
leaned down and kissed my too-numb-to-notice lips. "Every
time you order one of those damned cherry slushes, I think
of our first time together." I'd been a virgin when we'd
met, but four months of dating Craig had cured me of any
outdated notions of waiting for marriage. At twenty-two, I
wasn't anywhere near ready to get married, but one look at
Craig's bare chest and I was ready to get on the pill, get
naked, and offer up my cherry if he was interested. (He
was.)
"I'm really cold," I insisted,
"and your talk of frozen slushes isn't helping."
"Bet I could warm you up,
Icicle Girl."
My ears, although feeling the
burn of frostbite through my damp hat, were working fine and
I heard the sensual promise in his voice. Since we'd been
dating the past ten months, Craig had turned me into a
complete wanton. I thought of the way he'd recently
introduced me to the pleasurable art of seductive spanking
and need flared between my legs. "I bet you could, too."
Craig had brought me "home"
for Thanksgiving, to meet his parents and they'd put us in
separate bedrooms. Football and Thanksgiving Dinner (they
went hand-in-hand according to Craig) were over and the rest
of his family had cleared out, so it was only the four of us
for the remainder of the long weekend.
I figured we could slip out
later this evening, tell them we were taking in a movie and
catch a quickie in the car. Or maybe a double feature. I
smiled at the thought, eager to have his hands on me.
Craig unzipped his jacket and
pulled me into the warmth of his chest. I wrapped my arms
around his waist and crammed my freezing fingers into his
back pockets. "Wishing you hadn't left your gloves in the
car?"
I growled.
"I offered to go get 'em," he
had the audacity to remind me.
Wanting to make him pay, I
tugged the hem of his flannel shirt free, swept my hands
under the bottom edge, and pressed them to his bare back.
His sharp intake of breath told me I'd scored. "Like ice,
aren't they?"
"Cold hands, warm twat."
"Shhh," I hissed, releasing
him and returning my fingers to the inside of his snug back
pockets. "Your dad is right there!" I saw a flash of yellow
between snow-covered branches, the parakeet-bright cap
knitted by Craig's mother, complete with Elmer Fudd
earflaps. (Mine was hot pink, minus the flaps.)
Craig flicked a snowflake off
my nose and bent to whisper, "Dad is too concerned with
selecting the tallest tree to care about what we're doing. I
could lay you flat out on the snow and have you so hot it'd
be melting beneath you in ten seconds flat."
"Eloise, what do you think?"
Don's booming baritone asked through the branches. "Are we
going to find one at this newfangled emporium or should we
drive up the road to Pete's Pines? Nothing wrong with a good
pine."
"Have this frozen body so hot
it melts snow? Feeling a bit boastful, aren't you?" I
snuggled closer, knowing he was right. If only we'd had the
foresight to take another trail, one by ourselves. Ah, well.
There was still that double feature to look forward to.
"Tonight why don't we sneak—"
"Not tonight, my
everything-but-frigid angel. Now." He wrapped his arms
around my back and insinuated his fingers between my
denim-clad thighs, hauling my hips against his.
Through the layers separating
us, his erection pressed against my stomach. "Now?" I
squeaked, throwing caution to the frosty wind as I pulled my
hands free from his back pockets and brought them between
us. Gliding my palms under his flannel shirt, I sunk my
fingers into his waistband and encountered the tip of his
penis, already protruding from the elastic band of his
briefs. I swallowed, growing instantly damp at the thought
of doing anything here, with his parents only yards away.
Through a thick copse of
trees, I heard his mother call out, "Come look at this one,
Don, kids! It's perfect!"
Craig ignored her; I did, too.
"Here? Are you sure?" I traced the head of his cock, teasing
it to grow even longer.
His hips bucked. "Damn
straight. Here and now." He ripped off one of his gloves and
yanked the hem of my jacket up to slide his bare hand inside
my jeans and past my panties, squeezing my ass.
I squirmed, ready for him.
He moved his hand and his
fingertips curved over my bottom, sliding between my legs.
One long finger teased my wet entrance. My thighs clenched
and my entire body suddenly felt heated, steamy hot, burning
with desire.
Without forethought, my wicked
hands were fumbling with his belt buckle, heading for the
button on his jeans.
His finger circled my opening,
passed it, and pushed high, finding my clit. "Dad, is that
the one?" Craig called, sounding remarkably composed for
someone who'd just unzipped his jeans and pushed his
underwear down with one hand, revealing an amazingly
impressive erection, despite the thirty-plus degree
temperatures.
Suddenly, the hot chocolate
we'd consumed before venturing into the forest was warming
me all the way down to my toes, heating the V of my thighs
to boiling. I rotated my pelvis, aching for him to touch me
harder, my fingers abandoning him to frantically tear at the
front zipper of my own jeans.
But wait, we couldn't have sex
outside—at a Christmas tree farm and with his parents thirty
feet away.
Or could we? The lightly
falling snow and thick trees hid us from any but direct
observation and—oh, God—Craig had just pushed my jeans past
my hips and was taking off his jacket.
"Nah," his father hollered
back. "It's too little. Your mother wants to settle for a
pipsqueak of a tree and get back to the car. Have you two
found anything worth chopping down?"
"Not yet. Take mom back to the
car, if you want," Craig responded, covering my bare ass
with his ungloved hands. Sparks of light shot straight from
each cheek to my recently abandoned clit. My legs were
shaking, my mind turned to mush. "We'll keep looking, a bit
farther up the trail."
"You sure?" Don yelled.
"Pete's Pines is sounding better by the minute."
"But I wanted a fir this
year!" I heard his mom yell over the wind, while inside my
loins, Craig had created a blizzard of desire. "I'm tired of
vacuuming up dropped needles every day."
Craig chuckled and lifted me
off my feet, whispering, "You and my mother...always tidying
up." He knelt in the snow and placed my bare butt directly
on his jacket. My jeans were bunched above my ankles, held
in place by my heavy hiking boots. My knees splayed open and
Craig stared intently at the view as he hollered over the
trees, "Don't settle, if it's not big enough, you'll never
be satisfied."
I watched him curve his hand
around his long cock and pump its length several times.
"Definitely big enough," I said, feeling less like a snow
angel and more like a snowbound slut. My hips arched off the
coat, toward his flushed penis. I needed him in me. "If you
don't quit teasing me with the sight of that thing," I
threatened, "I'm going to yell out that we've just found the
perfect tree."
Craig grinned. "I love it when
you get demanding." He quickly glanced around us, making
sure we had a moment more to ourselves (heck, all I needed
was ten seconds of his plunging dick and I knew I'd be warm
the rest of the day), then he positioned himself between my
thighs and rammed in hard.
I muffled my squeal as my body
took him inside, clasping hungrily at his cock. I squeezed
my knees around his waist, wishing my legs were free and I
could wrap them around him and pull him in deeper. Hearing
my unspoken plea, Craig pulled completely out, then lunged
in again, sliding me several inches backward on his jacket.
Snow crept past the edges of
my coat and assaulted my lower back, freezing the skin
instantly. The sensation—one of such sharp, sudden
intensity—reminded me of being spanked and I intentionally
levered my butt off his jacket and into the snow.
Craig pounded into me
repeatedly. The snow numbed my ass and I bit my lip, loving
the fierce sensations as much as the look on his face as he
stared down at me, his brow furrowed in concentration
beneath his navy knitted hat.
"Did they leave?" I grunted
between thrusts, bringing my hands up underneath his shirt
to touch the muscles cording his heated stomach.
"Don't care." He angled his
hips and brought one hand between our bodies to thumb my
clit. "Hot enough now?"
His touch sent me over the
edge. I orgasmed around his cock, the liquid of my release
flooding past his thumb and dripping between our bodies,
heading down the crevice of my ass and into the snow. "Oh,
yeah...oh, ohhh! Ahhh…"
Over and over, I slid up and
down his erection, prolonging the muscle spasms quivering
through my abdomen as long as possible. My hips finally
stilled, my entire lower half still humming from my release.
Craig gently pulled his thumb off my clit with a slow glide
and brought it to his mouth.
He closed his eyes and
proceeded to lick my juices off his hand as his cock dove
inside me again several times, before stopping. He groaned
as he came, jerking high between my thighs. His seed bathed
my insides and I clutched him harder, my nails digging into
his heated skin.
Craig opened his eyes and
looked at me confidently. "Told you I could make you melt."
Flicking his gaze to the snow-flocked trees surrounding us,
he said, "Kind of gives new meaning to the title 'O
Christmas Tree,' doesn't it?" And then he started humming,
as I laid beneath him laughing and freezing my butt off for
real.
An hour later, with a
nine-foot Douglas fir securely tied to the hood of their
Tahoe, I sat in the backseat with my legs bent over Craig's
thigh and my hands curved around another (large, this time)
cup of hot chocolate.
Happy with her fir, his mom
was discussing plans for decorating the tree. "And if we
finish in time and can still get tickets, I think the
Starlight Playhouse is showing a double feature this
evening."
Hot chocolate shot out of my
mouth on a laugh.
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