Pushing your pole into the deep snow, you propel yourself forwards the final bit up the rise to overlook the snow capped trees below. Nestled in amongst them is the soft yellow glow of our cabin, a bastion of warmth and coziness after hour long trek through the trails. It's your first time cross-country skiing and it's been a magical experience. Sliding through the silent white ground, seeing the frozen wilderness before, even catching glimpse of a deer amongst the trees, it's been wonderful. But now you are sufficiently frozen and aren't sure if you'll ever feel your face again. You're very much looking forwards to reaching the cabin.
"Ready to get some warmth back in your toes?" I ask you, a playful grin on my face. I stand next to you on the rise, covered in thick layers of winter gear like you, with only my face showing. You nod and point your skis to follow me. I take us down the gentler side of the sloping hill, letting gravity do the work to slide down to the bottom, needing only a few strides to reach the cabin awaiting us. This has been one of your favourite parts of your chilly adventure. You can't help but laugh as you slide down the hill, the cold air rushing against your face. You come up next to me with a grin and begin to undo the bindings holding the skis in place.
We make our way through the deep powder to the front door. We're greeted by the warm glow of the light we left on as a beacon to guide us home. Closing the door behind us, we block off the cold and take a moment to bask in the heated air. The lack of wind is a welcome feeling for our faces but almost immediately our noses begin to drip as they defrost. Quickly we shed our extra layers, hanging up our snow soaked coats and snow pants and peeling away our sweaters. We both rush to grab tissues in hopes of stopping the flows coming from our noses. We look at each other, both with tissue pressed against our faces, and can't help but laugh. We looks ridiculous.
"One problem with being out in the cold." I tell you. You aren't used to taking on these cold temperatures. You have no idea how I manage a full season of this. I pull at my shirt, clinging to my body soaked in the sweat from our journey. "Another problem. Bundled up in all those layers, you can't help but get all sweaty." You pull at your own shirt, feeling a chill creep under it as the air touches your sweat sheened skin.
"I think I'm going to have a nice warm shower." You say, making your way to the bathroom. I eagerly follow, my eyes locked on your swaying hips in front of me. You turn the corner and with a devious smile, close the door in my face. I'm shocked, doing a double take before realizing what just happened. I try the handle with no luck, you've locked the door. I knock against it, hoping you'll take pity on me with my cries of desperation. Instead I hear the sound of the shower turning on. I hang my head in sadness, walking to the bedroom across the hall to wait for you to finish. I'm only a few steps away when I hear the sound of the door unlatching.
I quickly spin around and see a small sliver of light with a hint of steam now escaping the bathroom. I slowly push the door open, watching the gap with anticipation of what sight might await my eyes. It opens to the mirror over the sink, beginning to dig over from the growing steam coming from the shower. I can make out movement through the blurred picture and know what's on the other side of the door. I step in and close it behind me. There, enclosed in the frosted glass of the shower, your naked silhouette moves before me as you lean your head back, letting the hot water soak your long luxurious locks.
I nearly lose myself to the erotic sight before me, disbelieving that such a beautiful woman would be here with me, let alone naked in the shower. I snap myself out of my reverie and quickly shed off my clothes, not caring where they land. In seconds I'm naked too and crack the shower door open.
"Took you long enough." You say, your eyes closed as you work shampoo through your wet hair. I smile and slip in behind you, my hands drawing themselves around your smooth stomach and pull you against me, the water cascading down between us.
"Sorry," I tell you, "I was admiring the incredible view." I lean down and softly kiss your neck. Slowly I plant kisses down to your shoulder, then move to do the same to the other side. You let out a pleasurable hum, enjoying my affection and the feeling of my arms around you.
"I was hoping you would join me." You say, looking back at me with a playful smile.
"Oh yeah? Why is that beautiful?" I ask between kisses.
"I need someone to help wash my back." You tell me, wiggling yourself to emphasize your need.
"It would be my pleasure my darling."
I reach past you to pick up the bottle of body wash and pouf hanging up next to it. Regretfully releasing my grip on your beautiful body, I pour out some of the sweet smelling soap and begin to work into a foamy lather. Putting the bottle back, I gently begin massaging your shoulders with the soapy pouf.
You let out a moan of relief, enjoying the feeling of my hands rubbing at your sore muscles. I slowly move my way down your body, leaving behind a thick trail of suds as I wash your back. My free hand follows behind, rubbing and massaging with my fingers as I move along your smooth skin. I reach your lower back, stopping just at the top of your firm cheeks. Tracing my finger down your spine and sending delightful tingles through your body, I pause to ask, "Want me to keep going?" You turn your head to look at me with a playful smile, "Only if you want to." You say, knowing that's exactly what I want to do.
Needing no further encouragement, I slip along the slope of your ass, trailing suds along your smooth skin. I take my time as I move across you, savouring the feeling of your firm cheeks beneath my hand. Bringing the pouf under the curve of your ass, I slip it between your legs. You gasp as the soft soapy sensation lightly tickles the lips of your pussy. I smile, continuing to soap up your legs. I run the pouf down your thighs, using both hands to massage your taut muscles, squeezing your with a firm, methodic pressure to work away the tension.