It's been a week since Cutie arrived at the mountain resort in Colorado. She arrived late the night she ran her car off the road and found herself in the arms of the gorgeous Chris. Although she managed to tear herself away and get back on track, she was still late by quite a number of hours. Her supervisor, Virgil, was not impressed to be kept up so late to let her into her accommodation, so he didn't even show her around. Just as well really, after fucking Chris earlier in the evening she was exhausted and fell straight to sleep.
The next morning she was thrown into the thick of it. She had acquired two jobs at the resort to help pay for her globetrotting adventures. It was an early start on the slopes, accompanying Virgil as he taught beginners how to ski. He was still angry with her about her late arrival so wasn't altogether helpful and told her she'd be taking subsequent classes alone. Fortunately for Cutie, she had been teaching skiers all around the world and it was a breeze in an English-speaking country. The skiers always liked her approachable, even animated, nature. Infectious laughter, sparkling green eyes, she could flirt with the women and men, she knew how to get anyone on side. Such is the skill of the Australian traveller and the very reason for the nickname that stuck. Cutie. For she is indeed quite the cutie.
Her second job started mid-way through the week. As one of the resort photographers, after skiing all day she is expected to shoot the night life at the resort and sell the images to patrons. As is policy, no socialising with the customers beyond the extent of the profession. This is difficult, as all the resort visitors she had met on the slopes were trying to buy her drinks in their efforts to get her to sleep with them. She spent her first nights fobbing off half-drunk revellers.
That leaves the workmates for lonely nights. Except Virgil, she likes all the people she works with but there is no one working at the resort that captures her interest. One of the resident professional skiers, Paige, has a lodge at the resort courtesy of her sponsors. She and Cutie were getting along well, exploring the slopes together on Cutie's breaks. After Paige saw the quality of the images at the resort club she asked Cutie to photograph her for a story that is being written for the local paper. Cutie agreed on one condition- she could take a bath at Paige's lodge beforehand, an indulgence not on offer in the backpacker-style quarters accommodating the ski instructors.
That's how it comes to be that after a very busy week, Cutie finds herself alone at Paige's lodge soaking in a bubblebath. She enjoyed the week but after exploring the runs, teaching classes and going out at night sober she's exhausted. In the peace and quiet of Paige's bathroom, at last Cutie's mind wanders to thoughts of Chris. Aaahhhh, she sighs, Chris.
She has goosebumps all over at the recollection of the way his hands traced her skin. Shivers down her spine as she recalls bouncing on his cock. Tingly in her tits as she remembers how he made her come so easily that night. She starts touching herself, under the bubbly surface of the bath, her soft fingers trying to simulate the way that Chris touched her. Why is it that all the good ones are so far away? And have girlfriends? She is making herself so horny.
Just as she is dreamily lazing in the bath, she hears Paige come in the front door. She isn't supposed to be back for another hour. And she's carrying on in bubbly conversation with a man. Cutie takes this as her cue to get out of the bath and get to work on the photos. She dries off and gets dressed. She can hear Paige chattering away to her companion, not letting him get a word in edge-ways. That's when it occurs to her that it must be the newspaper guy interviewing her.
Cutie comes out of the bathroom and into the hallway, towel-drying her long, deep red hair.
"Sorry we're here so soon, it's snowing a blizzard out there so there's no way to get any photos on the runs anyway," Paige calls out.
Cutie rounds the corner and sights the back of the man seated in the living room.
Paige continues, "So I hope it's okay that I said we could finish the interview here."
"Yeah mate," says Cutie. The man turns and much to Cutie's delight, it's her Chris.
"Cutie!" exclaims Chris. He would never forget those eyes, that sexy figure, that cute accent. But this time, he is turned on by that long, wet hair. He goes hard in that instant, just the thought of that wet hair on his chest. He shifts in his seat a little embarrassed.
Cutie can't help but sigh again. So gorgeous. She just loves that he doesn't even realise how hot he is.
Paige senses that this is the guy Cutie mentioned when they were out skiing that day. Suddenly she feels like the person who shouldn't be in the room and excuses herself.
"You know, that blizzard has really missed up my hairstyle. I think I'll go freshen up for the photos."
Suddenly left alone with Chris, Cutie doesn't know what to do. She wants to rush into his arms and kiss him with surmounting passion.
Aside from feeling aroused, Chris had also had trouble forgetting his Cutie. This was supposed to be a one night stand, ships that pass in the night kind of thing. But he can't get this girl out of his mind. She is mesmerising.
"Lost for words?' Cutie asks.
"Sorry?" says Chris snapping out of his own dream state.
"You're a writer and you're lost for words," Cutie smiles.
Melting, Chris just wants to sweep her into his arms again. Feel that gentle curve of her back, the way her hair brushes his chest. Her screams of delight. They were so good together. He wonders, is this an opportunity to get back some of that feeling?
Cutie sits down next to Chris still drying her hair, looking expectantly. Wanting to kiss those luscious lips again, feel her tongue in his mouth and his in hers. Her pussy is getting so wet.
Chris puts an arm around her and pulls her in. She nuzzles into his neck, this sweet sweaty man who she didn't think she'd get a chance to breathe in again. Mmmmm. The scent of pine trees and olive oil. His polo top brushes against her chin. Crisp. Chris-p.
Cutie's wet hair brushes across his closed eyelids and rests on his cheek. He breathes her in. She smells like the love child of the candyman and the florist, all lolly-sweet and floral at once. She's in comfy clothes -- her t-shirt tight against those lovely tits and loose trackies that hide those awesome thighs that she had clamped against him. He smiles to see she's wearing her cute ugg boots again. His cock is so hard.
He slides his hand down to rest in the small of her back and pulls her closer. Cutie knows there's nothing else she can do now. She's so captivated by Chris, there's only one life. She kisses his neck, licks his earlobe and slides her fingertips into his hair, sending shivers down his spine.
"Fuck me Chris," she whispers. "Fuck me again."
Chris is hungry for his Cutie. He searches for her lips, soft, smooth, full, with a sheen like the skin of a cherry. He presses his soft lips against hers and feels her embrace soften in his arms. They are lost in their endless kiss.
