The Snow Lodge

100 vanilla scented candles placed at random around the room. An expensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and M&M's to accentuate the flavour. On the floor a large padded mat and towels. And on the stereo Enigma playing at just the right volume.

Outside, snow and wind and ice whirl about with fiendish fury. Shrieking, sighing, roaring, writhing—Winter's song and dance in her full glory.

I hear you knock at the door, and grin. I rush to the door, but then dash back and grab the final detail: a blindfold.

Opening the door a blast of frigid air and swirling snow throws you into my arms. I grab you and we embrace. Your cold, snow dusted cheeks press my warm dry ones. We luxuriate in luscious contrasts: hot and cold, wet and dry--assault our senses.

You thrust the cold taste of winter's cunt into my mouth, and I thrust back a candle-like tongue of liquid fire. Slowly the two extremes blend, and mingle, and lust's melting wax oozes into our mouths with an exquisite slowness.

I blindfold you. You smile, and we kiss again. I unzip your coat, and lean down to take off your boots. We walk over to a couch by the fire, and I sit you down slowly.

I pour you a glass of wine. I bring the glass to your nose, and let the bouquet waft over your face. I slip an M&M into your mouth, and my cock twitches when you mouth my finger tips, and flick your tongue out to taste their saltiness, before you crunch the chocolate. You sip the wine. Salty sweetness mingles in your mouth and a hot whirlpool of saliva washes it down your throat.

Enigma's rhythmic bass fills the room to mix with the relaxing scent of vanilla candles. I begin to undress you. Button by button I undo your shirt, and slide your arms out of it . . . and then slowly slide your gorgeous breasts out of your bra. Your breasts speckle with goose bumps. Your nipples harden into icicles. I warm them with my hands. Massaging them until their flesh softens a little.

Then I stand you up, and slide your pants down to the floor, and as my face passes your left breast I can't help mouthing the nipple once. You step out of your pants, and I pull your underwear down and off of you too.

I lie you down on the mat, and cover you with a soft thick cotton towel. Your silent submission of trust and comfort in my presence also covers me with a lovely feeling. I kiss the nape of your neck.

I pick up a bottle of massage oil. Vanilla mixed with mint. I pour a small pool of it into my hand, and then rub my hands together to warm it before I move them onto your shoulders. I smear the mixture over your body, and slowly begin inching the towel down your back.

I move my hands in smoothing circular motions up and down your back. One hand after the other hand, over and over, and begin to feel the energies of your body release their tension, and awaken.

I arrive at your lower back, and begin to use my weight to apply pressure to the knots I find there. You make your first sound since lying down. A low and primal groan of pain mixed with a mildly orgasmic release as the knots submit to my unceasing pressure.

I begin smoothing deep strokes from your lower back into the flesh of your ass. I go down the center, and then return to the starting point along the sides of your body. I work my way down to the center points of each cheek of your ass.

I straddle you, and then lean with the full power of my hands and body into your ass. You groan louder this time, and whimper too. I do this for a couple of minutes.

Finishing with your ass for the moment, I slide my hands down into the space between your thighs. My fingers work into the tension that only a lover has access to along the inner thigh. I brush the silky hair of your pussy, and you shiver. Another aroma adds itself to the vanilla and mint.

I work my way down your calves, to the backs of your knees. I play with the nerves behind the knee cap, delicately releasing their repressed energies to zip up and down the meridians of your body's energy channels.

And then I reach your feet. I grin to myself, and reach for more oil. I lube my hands up well, and warm them against each other for a moment. Then I grab your foot and firmly oil every inch of its surface.

Up to this point I had been holding back the full force and power of my grip—I slowly squeeze your heel hard, harder, harder . . . and then even harder. You shudder, and such an intense moan that I worry I might have gone too far—you reassure me, and I continue.

I finish crushing the tension out of your heel, and begin to work my thumbs and fingers into the tender underbelly of your foot. I find the triggers, and work them severely but skillfully. I then begin pulling on your toes, slowly and hard. Each toe, hard and slowly.

I gently set down the one foot, re-oil my hands, and set about making sucking sounds on your other foot with my hands.

Finishing your feet, I slowly maneuver you onto your back. By this point you're only semi-conscious of what is going on, and there is not a fiber of resistance to any request I make of your body.

I rework the tops of your feet, paying particular attention to the triggers that flow up to your breasts, and to your pussy. I then glide up your calves, and upper thighs . . . and you tense a little in anticipation as my slick oiled fingers approach your pussy.

I put my hands, one atop the other, on your pussy firmly. I close my eyes, and breathe deeply, and firmly press into your pussy with my palms. I hold this pose for several minutes. I visualize a blue energy within my groin blossoming and flowing upwards through my heart and down my arms and into my hands pressing your pussy. I imagine that you have an orange energy there that is also uncurling.

I slowly move my hands down to your thighs and spread them. I put three fingers together on each hand, and move them firmly into the tendons that lie between your pussy and each leg. The tension draining sensation that trickles slowly out of you as my fingers palpate that space just outside your pussy begins to increase and flow and suddenly pour out of you. I can see your energy lines begin to roar and flow up and down without any blockages; your body returns to its natural state of bliss.

I slip my hands up over your pussy, and you moan a protest about their absence. I move them to your belly, and gently massage you there. I slowly move my hands down the sides of your body, draining more residual tension. And then move up to your breasts, but only give them a passing stroke as I move to your shoulders.

I move from straddling your thighs to a new position, without breaking contact with your body and my hands. I sit on the floor just above your head. And begin working my fingers into the knots in the tops of your shoulders.

I apply some force here with my hands as the knots are hard and filled with bad energies. I work my thumbs up the sides of your neck to your ears, and massage their lobes, and then move them down the back of your neck.

Lifting your head, I roll it as I massage away your stress. I make long pulling strokes with one hand, and my other follows after it, each one following the other in unceasing waves of pressure.

I place both hands one atop the other, on your forehead, and apply gentle but firm pressure to the ridge of your eyebrows. I hold this for several moments, knowing that the last pockets of tension are draining away from your face and body. Then, as lightly as possible, I put each of my thumbs on your eyelids. A draining unlike anything you've ever felt evokes a snowflake of grey light in front of each closed eye.

I stroke my fingers down the contours of your face. Your lips pucker and pout as I massage the muscles around them, and I groan inside my head as I imagine a hundred things that I want to do to your lips, and them to do to me.

Finally, I slide my hands down onto your chest. I slowly smooth my fingers into the flesh, and then deeper down into the muscles that lie beneath. I move my palms down to cup your breasts, and then down to the sides of your chest and back up to the top again, and repeat the slow deep sliding pressure of my fingers smoothing out the last bits of tension . . .

End Part I