Winter Escapades in Musoa

Shaking off the horniness inspired by my quiet morning with Jeff, I spent a few hours working in Katie's study. The room was warm and cosy, decorated in shades of cream, blue and light pine, with a small fireplace, a cushy sofa for lounging, and a deep carpet. The expansive desk was the perfect remote-work set-up. Out the window, I could see sun shining through snow-covered pine trees. I felt lucky.

My week at Katie's cottage in Muskoka was going to be pretty chill. We had a few things planned--a dinner in town one night, hosting a party another--but I was otherwise going to luxuriate in what amounted to a free vacation. I would work in the mornings, and spend the afternoons snowshoeing along the deserted winter back roads, roasting in the sauna, sinking into the hot tub...and ogling my friend's alluring grown-up son, apparently.

Leaning back in the leather chair, I wondered how he saw me. I'm at an age where I am considered an

older woman

. I find the term "MILF" to be icky--I'm childfree by choice, thank you very much--and "cougar" conjures up images of leopard-print--wearing barflys who are constantly on the prowl. I wish there was something a bit more...classy.

True confession: I have never been with a younger man. (Well, my ex-husband was two years younger than me, but I don't think that counts.) My relationships and situationships have all been with men my own age or a little older. Bona fide grown-ups, with jobs in office buildings and their own houses. Men who had their seduction game down pat--who knew how to leverage anticipation, restraint, and desire. My current boyfriend was just that type. Handsome, successful, intelligent, sensual. An amazing cook and an intuitive lover. What more could a woman want?

To be honest, I wanted a man twenty years my junior to fuck me on his mom's kitchen table.

Somehow, I managed to push that fantasy to the back of my mind. I had to--I wouldn't have been able to focus on work otherwise.

After a productive few hours, I went to reward myself with a glass of chardonnay. (That's another cottage rule--there's always a bottle of wine open and ready to be enjoyed, no matter what time it is.) Entering the kitchen with some trepidation, I was relieved to see no sign of Jeff. Relieved, with a twinge of disappointment.

It was just after noon, and I started thinking about lunch. There wasn't much in the fridge, probably because yesterday's snowfall had prevented Katie from doing her grocery shopping. Maybe we'd go stock up later that afternoon. I nibbled on some brie and a handful of grapes, while opening random cupboards and sipping my wine.

The sound of what I assumed was a drunken moose clambering on the back deck startled me. But it was only Jeff, stomping the snow off his boots before coming in through the French doors off the kitchen.

"Hey, Aunt Nika," he said, smiling and bringing in all the energy of a morning spent out in the snow. His cheeks and ears were red with cold. How do guys get away with not wearing a hat in -10 degree weather? It was charming, and I gave him a big smile back.

"Oh god, just call me Nika," I said. I turned back to the cupboards, glad there wasn't any awkwardness between us. Probably best to pretend our intimate morning never happened. "I was going to make something for lunch. Maybe there's pasta somewhere. Can I make you something?"

"Nope! You're not allowed to cook this week. My mom said I should take you to lunch in town. If you want."

Lunch in a bougie bistro in the quaint Muskoka town, with this young hunk? Try and hold me back.

"That sounds fantastic. Let me just change my clothes."

***

Jeff took one look at my outfit--tasteful jeans and a chic cashmere V-neck sweater--and shook his head. "I should have told you. We're taking the snowmobile. You'll never be warm enough in that." He rummaged through a pile of parkas and other winter gear in the mud room. "Here, these snowpants should fit you, they're my mom's. And this is mine but it's warm. This too." He tossed a bunch of cold-weather gear in my direction. "Bundle up!"

Five minutes later, I resembled a short, red-haired Michelin Man. I was wearing Katie's snowpants and boots, as well as one of her down jackets. Jeff had given me a wool sweater, one of his, and I had topped it all off with a scarf, mittens, and a toque.

I waddled with Jeff to the garage, feeling silly but definitely warm.

"Here's a helmet and some goggles too. You'll feel the wind but it's not too cold today. And we'll go fast."

I thought all these layers were overkill but did as I was told. I climbed onto the snowmobile behind Jeff, not sure what to hold on to. From behind his scarf and goggles, he said, "Okay, hold on to me." I couldn't see his eyes.

I wrapped my arms around his long torso and pulled my hips forward so I was tucked in close against his back. It was just what I had been thinking about that morning--only with more layers between us than I had wanted. I could smell the scent of Jeff's body and whatever soap he used on the sweater I was wearing.

"Ready?" he asked. I didn't have time to answer before we took off. And by "took off," I mean it felt like we were flying, right out the back door of the garage and out onto the frozen lake. I had never felt this kind of speed before. The frigid air hit my face like a wall, and I clutched at Jeff's body with a gasp, hanging on for dear life. Noise filled my ears and I kept my head down.

"Woo hoo!" I heard Jeff yelling out of pure exuberance, with all the joy of a puppy seeing snow for the first time. I tried to laugh but my cheeks were frozen.

When I finally got the courage to raise my head, I saw the sun high in a bright blue winter sky. We were already halfway across the lake. The world around us was a beautiful blur. It was exhilarating.

Boys get to do this?

I loved it.

"Woo hoo!" I yelled into Jeff's ear. He took one hand off the handlebars and squeezed my thigh briefly in response. We sped across the ice and snow. My bundled-up body was pressed against his, and I felt a deep warmth coming off him despite the cold world we were flying through.

The speed, the closeness, the connection. The buzz of the machine between my legs. Jeff's warm body and his sexy scent. I pressed my legs tighter around his hips and pulled my chest in tighter to his back. I didn't know it was possible to be that cold and that turned on at the same time.

In my mind, I was no longer sitting behind Jeff on the snowmobile. I was sitting astride him, his arms around me to pull me in closer. His lips would be cold but I warmed them with my own. He would throw off his gloves like a goon about to jersey an opposing player. His fingers would meet no resistance under my snow pants--only my pussy, wet and ready. Jeff had big hands and a finger plunged oh so deep would release from me a moan you could hear across the lake.

Fantasies have no rules, so of course the layers between us would melt away. He would take my ass in both hands and lift me onto his cock. Our mouths would be melded together as we fuck, slow and deep at first, then faster and with more urgency. No biting wind, no icy cold--just his fervent thrusts into me, the steady rumbling of the snowmobile, and the friction lighting a fire between us.

"Almost there," Jeff said, bringing me back to reality.

Yeah, I was almost there, dammit.

I'd have to continue my fantasy when I was back in the privacy of my bedroom.

All too soon, we were charging up the boat launch and driving slowly through the town's side streets. We passed boutiques, coffee shops, and professional offices. It was like a Hallmark movie come to life.

That idea I had of a quiet bistro lunch? Wrong again. We pulled into the parking lot of the local pub, filled with pickup trucks and more snowmobiles. Jeff took off his helmet. "Did you survive, Nika?"

That grin of his. He knew exactly what he was doing. If only he knew the thoughts that had been keeping me warm on our ride across the lake.

I looked at him with a smirk of my own. "Barely. But I'm driving us back."

I dismounted with all the grace of a hippopotamus in a parka, and nearly landed on my ass. Jeff helped me up with a laugh. We went into the pub, shedding some of our layers and piling them onto hooks in the hallway. Happy chatter, the clinking of glasses, and an incredible smell wafted in from the dining room.

More winter adventures to come...