Storming Love Blizzard Kimo & Mike (2 page)

“You sure you don’t want to come, K-Man?” Mike asked.

“I’ll hold off until tomorrow,” I said. “I didn’t sleep that well on the plane and I’d like to scope out the town anyway.”

“Look for someplace good for dinner,” Vinnie said. “I want a big juicy steak.”

“I’m a vegan,” Jenny announced. “I don’t eat anything with eyes.”

“Including her husband,” Chris said. Jenny glared at him and stalked off.

The guys left and I went into the room I was sharing with Mike. I got out of my travel clothes and took a nap, then a shower. By the time I felt human again, I found Jenny in the living room, furiously texting someone on her phone.

“Hey,” I said. “You want to go for a walk? Maybe see something you want to photograph?”

“Let me just finish this,” she said. I went back to my room and layered up, and then we walked outside. The cold hit me again, but this time I felt more prepared. The blue skies of Denver had been replaced with gray clouds and a wind that got stronger as we left the shelter of the building. We walked down a narrow trail to a cluster of similar condos that surrounded a big plaza. Tiny white lights festooned tall pines and shorter ones in clay tubs.

All around us men, women, and kids in heavy boots, carrying poles and skis, trudged through the cobblestone paths on their way to or from the mountain. Up on the slopes, I could see more people in brightly colored jackets waiting in line for the lift.

Jenny began snapping pictures with a small digital camera, and we walked in and out of stores and checked restaurant menus. Away from Chris, she was fairly pleasant. “Look, I hate to pry, but we’re going to be stuck together all week,” I said as we sipped hot chocolate at a café with a view of the slopes. “What’s up with you and Chris? Are you getting divorced or something?”

“It’s complicated,” she said. “We’re the classic example of opposites attracting. When I met Chris, he was so different from the guys I had been dating—serious and smart. He was in business school and I was working at a gallery and trying to be a painter. The one thing we had in common was loving the outdoors, and we spent a whole summer hiking and kayaking. He proposed to me on top of Mount Mansfield in Vermont.”

“Sounds romantic,” I said.

“It was. We were crazy about each other. We got married, and he got a great job, and encouraged me to quit my job and paint. Then I got pregnant, and our first boy was born. That’s when things first started to go bad.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Ten years. Chris was always working, and I was trapped at home with first one, then two babies. I stopped painting because I never had the chance to finish anything, and I started taking photographs. I was kind of obsessed with the boys, taking a million pictures of them. When Chris would come home, I’d try to show them to him, but he’d say he didn’t need the photos, he had the real thing right there.”

“Ouch,” I said. “It wasn’t about the babies, was it? More like expressing yourself?”

“I should have married a gay guy,” she said. “You understand.”

“Well, maybe not married one of us,” I said.

“Please. Chris and I already fake it when we have to have sex.”

I held up my hands. “TMI.”

“It’s the truth. When I was pregnant for the second time, he saw me naked and told me that I looked fat. Since then I haven’t taken my clothes off in front of him.”

How did I get myself into this?
I thought. Oh, yeah, I’d asked her what was wrong with her marriage.

“So why are you still married?” I asked.

“We have the boys.”

I shook my head. “It can’t be good for them to hear you guys sniping at each other all the time.”

“We aren’t that bad around them,” she said. “And I guess I’m selfish. We have a nice life—a big house in the suburbs, cars and vacations and all. I don’t make any money, and if we divorced I’d have to get a job.” She looked at me. “That sounds mercenary, doesn’t it?”

“Your word, not mine,” I said.

“What about you and Mike? You seem to get along well.”

I was happy to shift the conversation. “We argue sometimes,” I said. “We both have demanding careers, and we have a teenaged foster son and a dog. But we both compromise when we have to, like taking this trip. I’d have rather gone somewhere we could surf and sun, but he wanted to see his friends.”

We walked back to the condo, and by the time we got there the guys had returned from the slopes. Mike was in our room, lying on the bed in thermal long johns, reading a magazine.

He put it down when I walked in. “There’s a hot tub upstairs,” he said. “You want to go up there with me?”

“Just the two of us?” I asked. “Or everybody?”

“Just you and me.”

“Then I’m in,” I said.

We put on our bathing suits, grabbed towels, and took the elevator up to the top floor, where three hot tubs sat in front of glass windows that faced the slopes. It had started to snow by then, and it was very romantic, sitting there in the hot water with the snow falling outside, just me and Mike.

“How was skiing?” I asked.

“Super,” he said. Then he stopped. “Well, not quite so super, I guess. Phil is a real klutz, and he kept falling, so he and Vinnie had to stick to the green runs. Chris and I spent most of the afternoon on the blue, and it took me a while to get my rhythm back. By the end of the day we took one black diamond. It was scary but awesome.”

He leaned back against the wall of the spa. “I think you should start out tomorrow in ski school,” he said. “They’ll get you going on the bunny slopes.”

“We’re not going to ski together?”

“It would be like us surfing together,” he said. “You’d want the big waves, and I’d want the easy ones.”

“But we do surf together,” I said, though I couldn’t remember the last time we had.

“And I can tell you’re bored,” he said. “Maybe at the end of the day, once you can do the green slopes, I’ll take a couple of runs with you.”

I hadn’t realized that the difference in our skill levels meant that we’d be spending most of our time apart. I was cranky about that.

“How was your day?” Mike asked.

“Okay. I walked around with Jenny for a while. She is seriously unhappy.”

“So is Chris. I feel bad for them. He works so hard to support them, and she doesn’t even clean the house. They have a maid.”

“Isn’t she busy with the kids?”

“He says they go off to school in the morning and then stay late for extracurricular stuff, so they don’t get home until dinner time. Most days Jenny just makes herself a salad and then feeds them TV dinners and takeout pizza.”

“I don’t want to talk about them anymore.” I let my leg stray over to touch against Mike’s. “They’re harshing my mellow.”

We were smiling at each other when Vinnie stuck his head in the door. “Come on, you guys. We’re going to dinner.”

We dried off, then followed Vinnie downstairs, where we took quick showers and dressed for dinner. Jenny and I had found a steak restaurant that also served vegetarian dishes, and we all walked there. It was weird the way the snow evaporated as it hit the heated sidewalks, yet piled up around them.

Dinner was pleasant; everyone got along and I thought maybe this could turn out to be a fun vacation after all, even though I was chilled to the bone every time I stepped outside.

By the time we got back to the condo, though, Chris and Jenny were fighting again, and Mike and I retreated to our room. “You’re signed up for lessons tomorrow, right?” Mike asked.

“Yup. Me and a bunch of little kids, probably.”

“Let me show you a couple of moves, so you’re prepared. Stand over here.”

“Mike. I’ll just take the lessons, all right?”

“I know how to make this interesting for you.” He pulled off his long-sleeved turtleneck shirt and the thermal T-shirt underneath it. “Go on, what are you waiting for?”

So we were doing these lessons naked? Well, that would indeed be more interesting. It took us both a couple of minutes to remove all those layers.

“Now, pretend I’m your instructor,” Mike said.

“Will my instructor be naked tomorrow? Because it seems like it would be really cold to learn skiing that way.”

“Shut up and pay attention, numbnuts,” he said, as he smiled. “First of all, it’s awkward to walk in your ski boots. You want to take long steps, stepping heel to toe with your lower leg straight.”

He demonstrated, but I was paying more attention to the way his half-hard dick bobbed as he walked. “Now you do it,” he said.

Of course I didn’t get it right, because I’d been distracted. “No, K-Man. Pay attention.” He took hold of my thigh, holding my leg straight, and pushing down on my heel.

My dick began to stiffen from his touch. I tried to concentrate on the movements, remembering it was going to be freezing outside, and my erection subsided.

“Now, when you go to put your skis on, you want them to point in the same direction, about a foot apart. Stick the poles in the snow on each side of the skis, up by the front edge of the binding. Got it?”

I nodded.

“To walk, you keep the skis parallel and push yourself forward with the poles.” He mimed stabbing the poles into the snow angled backward. “The angle lets you put the weight on your shoulders rather than your forearms.”

I couldn’t help laughing. He looked so goofy that way, his dick nestled in his pubic hair, his body tilted. “Keep laughing, surfer boy,” he said. “When you fall on your ass I’m going to take a video and post it online.”

“I get it. I’ve got my boots and my skis on and I’m walking to the slope. How do I actually ski?”

“You bend your knees so your shins rest on the front of the boots and lean forward slightly.” I bent, but not correctly, and he stepped behind me and forced me into the proper position.

“If the instructor does this I won’t be able to concentrate on skiing,” I said, as Mike’s body pressed into mine.

“Oh, forget it,” Mike said, and he kissed the back of my neck. “You can learn to ski on your own. Right now I just want to fuck you senseless.” He reached around with both hands and grabbed my nipples, and pressed his stiffening dick against my ass.

We rocked back and forth like that for a minute or two. His breath was hot on my neck, his hairy chest rubbing against my smooth back, and electric shocks ran through my body. “I could get into this skiing thing,” I said, my voice a little hoarse.

“As long as you only get into it this way with me,” Mike said. He twisted my nipples and I bucked back against him.

My pulse was racing. “I don’t know. Are the ski instructors sexy? They say variety is the spice of life.”

“I’ll give you variety,” Mike said, and he plunged his dick into my ass, his precome acting as lube.

I yelped at the pain but he pinched my nipples again and my endorphin level soared. “Keep it down,” Mike said into my ear. “We don’t want everyone to know what we’re doing.”

“Why not? Maybe Vinnie and Phil will join us. Chris, too, if Jenny’s not putting out.”

“I’m more man than you can handle, buddy,” Mike said. He pulled back. “Christ, I’m getting old. Can’t hold that position for too long. Get on the bed with your ass in the air and I’ll show you what a real man can do.”

“Real man,” I said, panting. “I’ll show you who’s the real man in this relationship.” I turned around and tackled him, pushing him onto the bed on his back. In a quick move, I lifted his legs up and pushed them back toward his chest.

He tried to struggle, but I said, “You think you’re the big man, always in charge. If I want you underneath me, then you’re staying right there.” I slid down so that my body rested on his, and with my right hand I positioned my dick at his ass.

Of course, if Mike hadn’t wanted it, he could have pushed me off, and we’d have wrestled for a while, getting even sweatier and hornier. But he widened his legs and used his fingers to stretch his hole open.

I zoomed in on the target, but I was not going to rush. I wanted to make him beg for it, and I knew I could. Instead of pushing my dick right in, I got down on my knees on the carpet and began to rim him, licking my tongue around his hole as he groaned with pleasure.

Then I folded my tongue into a V and began pushing it inside him. I soon replaced it with my index finger, probing inside him, feeling the walls around his chute open up. “Yeah, you want it, don’t you? You’re just a big old sloppy bottom, aren’t you, Mr. Sexy Firefighter Ski Master Big Swinging Dick?”

“Shut your mouth and fuck me, bitch,” Mike said.

“Not until you beg for it,” I said.

He was panting for breath, too. “Never,” he said.

I stood up. “Okay then, I’m done. I feel like a cup of hot chocolate. You want one?”

“Get your dick back here, K-Man.” Mike looked up at me, his eyes glazed with lust.

I put my hands on my hips and my dick swung. Drops of pre-cum dribbled from the tip. “Say it.”

“You’re a dickwad,” Mike said. “You get me so horny and then you just play with me. Fine. I’ll say it. Please, K-Man. Please fuck me. I need to feel your dick inside me. I need you to shoot a load against my prostate.”

“Well, since you asked.” I grabbed his legs and slammed into him the way he’d done with me, and he howled. Then I began pistoning in and out of him, as he moaned and shimmied on the bed, both of us sweating.

He rose to meet me, and we fucked with a passion we rarely managed after five years together. I slammed into his ass, and he yelped and pressed his dick into the towel beneath him. “Oh God, oh God,” he said, his breathing shallow.

“You can just call me K-Man,” I said.

My dick was on fire, swallowed up in the wet heat of his chute. He grabbed his dick and began jerking it furiously. I was breathing hard; I closed my eyes and my whole body shuddered. He shot a load on his chest; his eyes got that funny look as the pleasure ran through him, and seeing the man I loved like that was enough to toss me over the cliff. I shot a load that felt like it had enough power to pulsate all the way through his body.

I held the position for as long as I could. Then I pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside him. “You were on fire,” he murmured.

“Good thing you’re a trained firefighter then,” I said, still breathing hard.