A gorgeous friend, whom I dearly love and who I know is hotter in every way than Sarah ever thought of being, but who keeps me at arm's length, had the original idea for this story and for much of the humor. She didn't want her name revealed, however, so I'll just say thank you. She knows who she is.
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DECEMBER
Sarah banked her old Bell47 to the right and began slipping sideways barely a hundred feet above the ice covered ground. For her money, there was nothing like flying a helicopter. It was fun and exciting, similar to her ride on the Rock-O-Plane during her visit to the Alaska State Fair in Palmer, plus there was a freedom to flying a helicopter. She could take off and land almost anywhere; fly slow, fast, high, low, forwards, backwards, sideways, even hover. She had only recently gotten her license, had worked hard getting it in near record time, and was proud of her accomplishment. She had rewarded herself with the old Bell47 and to give herself even more freedom, had outfitted it with extra fuel tanks for extended range and safety.
From above, sunlight dancing off the ice ripples covering the flat tundra created a glistening sea of sparkles for as far as the eye could see, dazzling flashes of brightness with occasional bits of color mixed in—bright rainbow flashes. It reminded Sarah of how the ocean sometimes appeared when she and Todd hunted seals or how the lake looked on that sunny day last summer when she and Levi stole away to picnic on a deserted island overlooking Russia. Beautiful memories she would cherish forever.
Sarah loved to hunt and hunting in Alaska was the best—hunting in Alaska from a chopper was the ultimate. She could swoop down on her game and chase it until it was too tired to run any longer, then hover and take her shot. Wolves were the most fun. They were smart and presented more of a challenge than bears, moose, or reindeer. She had gotten good at chopper hunting, too—she rarely missed. She loved having an animal in her sights—she thought of it as the moment of truth, that exact moment she wielded life or death power over another life, validating her superiority. It was exhilarating. After all these years, the kill shot still gave her a rush, a near orgasmic rush that made her ass tingle.
Imagining the loud clap of her rifle's report and the solid feel of its recoil ramming hard into her shoulder, sending shock waves rippling across her chest, vibrating her breasts, then seeing her target, a strong swift wolf, crumple and slide face first plowing the snow and ice, leaving a bright red stain before expiring in a cloud of rising steam, gave her a visceral thrill. She clamped her thighs together and tightened her buttocks at the thought, then became acutely aware of the vibrations running up through the seat. She started clenching and relaxing her thighs, flexing her buttocks, squirming in her seat—she couldn't help it.
She reached down to touch herself through the fabric of her jump suit—it was like pouring seal oil on a crackling campfire. Her thoughts immediately went to Levi and that fat cock of his that she so loved to ride, whooping and yelling as he smacked and bounced her ass. She turned the auto-pilot on, slid her hand inside her pants, closed her eyes and lost herself in fantasy for almost a half hour, nearly passing out when her body spasmodically jerked and shivered as she brought herself to multiple orgasms.
Regaining her composure, she suddenly realized that she had plunged into a blinding fog. Able to see only a few feet, she turned south, hoping to find clear weather, but the fog didn't let up. She began to distrust her instruments—as beginner pilots in zero visibility often do—and flew in circles before heading north, believing it to be south. The fog ended, but she continued flying north for hours until she ran out of fuel.
The engine coughed and sputtered, forcing her to set down. Just before landing, she spotted smoke off in the distance—most likely an Eskimo hunting party. Thankful that there were other people nearby, she issued a Mayday call on her radio, hoping the signal could be triangulated, then began the trek over ice toward the smoke.
As she drew closer, she realized that it was not smoke at all, but steam—apparently from a hot spring. And there was a herd of animals standing beside it, probably drinking the melting ice. Relieved, Sarah said a little prayer. She had food, water and warmth—she could survive almost indefinitely until help arrived.
Her scope revealed a herd of reindeer, nine of them, and one was standing with its side to her in perfect silhouette. As she set up to take the shot, dialing the scope in further, she noticed that the animals were wearing harnesses, then one doe moved revealing a sleigh. They were hitched to a sleigh! People had to be close by.
Sweeping the spring, she discovered a rotund man with rosy cheeks, long white hair and a full face white beard soaking in the steaming water. Sarah first thought he was asleep, then saw his arm moving and it hit her that he was pleasuring himself—jerking off! And good googly moogly, he was using two hands! Even counting Levi, Sarah had never seen such a gorgeous bologna pony. She decided right then that she was going to get into that hot spring and ride that monster. Besides, she needed to get her panties off—they were soaking wet, an unpleasant, even dangerous condition in sub-zero weather. As the freezing cold cut right through her clothing, she quickened her pace and made a beeline for the spring.
The rosy cheeked man gave a big wave as she approached and roared, "Hello, young lady. What good fortune brings you my way? Ho! Ho! Ho!"
"Hello there mister. I'm afraid I'm lost," Sarah said, shivering as she approached the spring. "Ya wouldn't happen to know where I am, would ya?"
"You're in northern Alaska, miss. Just exactly where, I'm afraid I don't know. Ho! Ho! Ho!" the rotund man laughed again, furtively checking her out. "But we'll get you back home safely. Don't you worry your pretty little head about that. What's your name, may I ask?"
"Sarah. Sarah Palin. What's yours?" She couldn't help stealing peeks at that huge beaver pleaser he was holding down under the water.
"Ah yes, Sarah Palin. Hmm, Sarah Palin. Just call me Nick, Sarah."
"Okey dokey, Nick. Say, you wouldn't happen to have a radio on ya would ya, Nick?"
"No, honey, not here I don't, but there's one back at my place. Warm yourself up here in the spring, Sarah, and then we'll go to my place—get on that radio."
"It looks mighty good in there, but I don't want to get my clothes wet—there's no way to dry them out here in the cold."
"Oh, my goodness, Sarah, take your clothes off and get in here where it's warm. There's nobody around but me and I won't pay any attention—no attention at all. Now you get out of those bulky old clothes and hop in here where it's nice and warm."
"Well, okey dokey, I guess you're right. I won't refudiate you," she said and commenced to quickly disrobe.
Nick nodded in appreciation as her clothes came off. She had great tits, her cold nipples standing out like number nine thimbles, and the shapely lower half wasn't bad either. "My, my, aren't you a pretty. Ho! Ho! Ho!" he said.
"Why, thank you, Nick. I do my best—don't want to look like no pig with lipstick," she said shivering as she lowered herself into the steaming water.
"No danger of that. No danger of that at all. My you're shaking all over. Come here and sit on ol' Nick's lap, Sarah, and let's get you all warmed up while you tell me about yourself."
Sarah didn't know when she had met anyone nicer than Nick and she really was cold from the walk and disrobing in the freezing air, plus she wanted to get a closer look at that big pocket rocket of his. "Okey, dokey," she said, then waded over and plopped down on his lap, immediately feeling the size and strength of his big taliwhacker. "Golly, gee!" she exclaimed, "This really is warmer."
"Now just put your arm around me like this," he said, draping her arm around his neck, bringing her breast into contact with his beard, "and let's see if my body heat doesn't warm you up real quickly."
"Yeah, I'm warming up already," she gushed as his beard tickled her nipple and that swollen cherry smasher of his was beginning to throb, pressing up against her bottom.
"Your lovely breasts must be freezing sticking out here in the cold air. Why your nipples are hard as ice. Here let me warm them up," he said taking the nearest one into his mouth, as he tweaked and kneaded the other.
"Oh, my! You really know how to warm a girl up, doncha Nick. Gee whiz, I think I just better turn right around here and face you, so you don't strain your neck," she said, then turned to face him, wiggling her ass as she straddled his lap. When his big cunny creamer rose up between her legs, rubbing against her sex, she squeezed it between her legs and yelped, "Good golly!"
"Ho! Ho! Ho! That won't just get you warmed up, honey, that'll get you fucked," he said and ran his big donkey dick up and down through her squirming slit a couple of times then slid it into her gaping pussy.
"Holy yikes!," she said as his giant Kong dong impaled her. It felt as if it was going to split her in half, like her bones were being pressed apart. She felt pressure from her chest to her ass as her pussy stretched to take him. It was the most glorious kitty pleaser she had ever encountered and it immediately set her ablaze. She began to move on it, carefully at first then with more and more abandon. Wrapping her arms around him his neck, she bounced up and down, squealing, screaming, and moaning with each bump, then clutched him like she was dying and came, wailing like a wounded coyote, frightening the reindeer, as she spasmodically jerked and clenched.
"That a girl, Sarah. That a girl," Nick said and stood up, holding her tightly around the waist. He leaned her back and began to pound her, driving his massive puddin' pounder into her sopping pussy as she wrapped her legs around his waist and clung onto his neck.
"Lordy, lordy," she cried, then began yelping loudly, like a wolverine in heat, as that massive moisture missile brought her to orgasm over and over.
Nick shuddered and came, shouting, "Fuck, shit, damn, hell," as the spasms racked his formidable frame while she quivered and moaned.
Not quite done, he bent her over a rock shelf in the middle of the spring, entered her from behind and fucked her doggie style, his large belly slapping loudly against her tight round ass as he squeezed her tits with his chubby hands and filled her pussy full with his big muffin stuffer. Sarah moaned loudly and yipped like a virgin puppy, then began to come over and over again as Nick pounded her like a bull rabbit on a doe in heat. His big yogurt cannon had her rattling all the way from her tits to her ass.
Nick was unable to hold out any longer and came himself, grunting loudly as he pumped ropes of cum into her clinching cunny. She collapsed, shaking and jerking, exhausted and completely satisfied for the time being. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" Nick exclaimed and smacked her on the ass.
"Did you like that, Sarah?"
"Holy rollers! You betcha, Nick. That was wonderful! I just might get lost up this way again."
"Any time, Sarah. Any time. Now get dressed sugar britches, and I'll take you to my place where we can radio your folks while I get you some fuel."
