A Weeend Irl

His eyes reluctantly opened, just a hair at a time, and he tried to bring the numbers on the clock into focus. It was nearly noon. He turned over, expecting to find her curled up next to him, but she was gone. A cold alarm shot through him. She wouldn't just leave. He knew that in his heart, but convincing his mind seemed something else entirely. He leaped out of the bed, the cool of the room a rude interruption from the warmth of the down cocoon he'd been in seconds before. Her car was still in front of the cabin when he looked out the window, and his breath began to slow. He shook his head at himself and picked up the coffee she'd brought in earlier. His face contorted in disgust as a sip of the icy liquid hit his tongue. Grabbing his jeans from the floor where she dropped them the night before, he pulled them on and grabbed his bag before heading into the bathroom.

It didn't take long before he was standing in the kitchen with a cup of hot coffee in his hand. He still hadn't seen her, and it puzzled him. Through the front windows, he looked outside at the blanket of white on the ground and saw them. There were footprints in the snow, little footprints.

When he finished his caffeine fix, he pulled on his jacket and opened the front door. The small porch was drifted with the snow, a thin valley running through the middle where she had made her way through. He followed her path across the front and around the side of the cabin, enjoying the silence of the cold, crisp air and the sunlight sparkling off the crust of the snowfall. He called her name, but only silence met him.

"Hey," he yelled out when the force of the first snowball hit him in the back, squarely between his shoulders. He wheeled around just in time to see her duck behind a carefully constructed wall of snow. Her laughter carried through the trees. He took two long steps toward her hideout before his chest caught her second shot.

"You have had it now, girl." he tried not to laugh, but that was a hopeless effort.

"Hu-uh," she called back. "You have to catch me first!"

She darted out from behind her protective wall, several more rounds of ammunition in her arms, and ran through the trees, only occasionally turning to fire another cold shot. He scooped up snow as he ran, molding balls in his hands and throwing them roughly in her direction. He was quickly closing the gap on her when she fired her last shot. No longer needing to duck for cover, his stride lengthened and his pace quickened until he was within reach of her. He grabbed at her, catching her in his arms. Their laughter mixed with the labored breath from the chase, and she collapsed on the ground taking him with her.

"I heard you come out," she giggled. "Been waitin for ya!"

"Yeah, I noticed." He tried to sound stern with her, but her giggling was contagious. "How long have you been out here, anyway?" He touched a finger to her bright red nose, and he cupped her flushed cheeks in his hands.

"Oh, I don't know. A while. I came out to walk through the snow and got sort of sidetracked." She looked toward her ambush cover.

"You're ornery, you know that?" he laughed.

She laid back spread eagle, moving her arms and legs to make a snow angel. "Uh-huh, I know, and you love it." When she was satisfied with her creation, she sat up and looked at him. He saw a spark of something different in her eyes as they softened. She smiled.

"Yeah, I do." He stood and took her hand, pulling her up beside him. "Come on, let's get you inside and in front of a fire." He took a step toward the warmth of the cabin.

"Not yet," she said, holding him back. "Let's walk out here. It's so pretty."

She slipped her glove-covered hand into his and pulled him along through the bare, snow covered trees. It was quite a change from the howling winds of the previous night. Now the air was still, and the trees that had groaned in protest to the wind's relentless force now stood silent. Few birds remained, only the slate juncos scavenging for food and, somewhere in the distance, a cardinal and his mate trilling their distinctive song. They walked for a time without speaking, enjoying the companionable silence that might have been awkward with anyone else.

"Is this all real?" She finally spoke. It really wasn't a rhetorical question. She honestly wanted an answer, some reassurance that this wasn't just a dream that she might wake from and feel the loss of.

Something in her tone caught his attention, and he turned her to face him. "Are you OK, sweetheart?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, but something inside his head forced the words from his mouth.

Her smile was small and soft. "Yes. I'm really more than OK. It's just," she searched for the right word, "just frightening sometimes." She put her arms around his waist and pressed close to him.

He held her there and leaned down to gently kiss the top of her head, her face buried against his chest. "Nothing to be afraid of, pretty girl. It's just me."

"I know that, I really do, but I'm finding things inside of myself that I didn't know were there, and it scares me." She struggled to reign in her swirling emotions. "See, I've been living half in and half out of this fantasy world for so long, wanting to touch you instead of a keyboard. Now I'm all the way in, and I want to know that it isn't just fantasy, that it's all real this time."

He smiled down at her, but her hidden eyes didn't see. "I understand you." His voice was incredibly tender as he held her closer. He brought his hands to her cheeks, tilting her face up to look at him to meet her lips in a soft and gentle kiss. A shiver coursed through her body. "You're freezing out here, my dear. Come on. Let me take you inside." As he took her hand and led the way, she followed, if somewhat reluctantly.

Once inside, they stomped the snow from their shoes and left them by the door. He pulled off his jacket and then hers along with her gloves, hanging them on pegs by door. He looked at her and shook his head. "Your clothes are soaked. Your hands are nearly blue, and I'll bet, under those wet socks, your feet are too. Probably can't even feel them, can you?"

She shrugged her shoulders like a little girl and shook her head. "No." Her socks quickly joined her shoes on the floor.

He sat her down in the chair where he first saw her (my god, was that only last night?), covered her with a blanket, and tucked it in around her. "Stay here. Please," he asked as he turned to go up the stairs. She nodded.

She snuggled into the warmth under the blanket and smiled. It felt good to be taken care of, cared about, wanted. She heard him rustling around upstairs and wondered what he was up to, but she was sleepy and didn't want to think. Her feet began to tingle as the feeling started to come back. Then came the stinging and finally the burning of her thawing nerves. She was rubbing them when he came back down. He held his hand out to her and motioned for her to follow him, before leading her up the steps, across the bedroom, and into the bathroom with it's full and waiting tub.

She was still shivering as he pulled the wet shirt over her head and then the wet jeans covering her trembling legs. She tried to help him, but he wouldn't let her. When all her clothes were lying in a heap on the cold tile floor, he held her shoulders to guide her into the steaming water. She blushed at the attention, but allowed herself to sit back and enjoy it.

"Be right back. Just sit there and get warm, OK?" He lit the two red candles perched on the rim of the tub and stepped out of the door.

The strains of soft Celtic music floated through the air, and she smiled. "Thought of everything, didn't you," she chuckled, sinking further under the warmth.

The tub was large, long enough for her to stretch out and deep enough to cover her to the neck. She closed her eyes and sank further still. She was there, relaxed, and covered to her chin when he came back into the room.

"Join me?" and she held out her hand. "There's plenty of room."

His answer was obvious as his clothes joined hers on the floor, and he settled into the water behind her. She leaned back against him, enjoying the closeness. She felt his arms circle around her, pulling her closer, as his lips met her hair. She inhaled deeply, trying to memorize everything, the scent of the soap, the warmth of the water, the feel of his body pressed to hers. She wanted to remember each detail, knowing the time was flying much to quickly.

Placing a hand behind her neck, he slowly lowered her head back into the water, and cupping the water in his palm, gently poured it through her hair. Total relaxation crept into her body, knowing she was safe in his care, and she chose to do something usually very difficult for her. She chose to take.

He smiled at her as he poured a small puddle of shampoo into his hand and began working it into a thick lather and through her long hair, gently drawing his fingers through the strands. A deep sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, and she luxuriated in the sensual feelings he conjured with his touch. Warm water poured through her hair once more until it ran clean and clear. With a sponge of thick and richly scented lather, he worked along each arm and leg, not missing a single toe or finger or tiny spot in between, enjoying pampering her as much as she enjoyed being spoiled by him.

His hands glided over her skin, slick with soap, as he took his time exploring her body. They slid easily along the lower curve of her breast just beneath the surface of the water, up her chest as it rose and fell with her breath, across her collarbones where water pooled in their hollows, and down along the slope of her shoulders to her hands. She turned to face him, watching his eyes and his face. As he looked into her eyes, he felt she was seeing deeply into his heart and his soul. He brought her hands up to kiss her fingertips.

She moved her hands to cradle his face, drawing her fingers slowly along his brow, down his nose, and across his flushed cheeks before reaching for the sponge to indulge him in the luxury he had given to her. Each finger and toe was gently bathed and rinsed. She then rose to her knees before him, and taking more soap into her sponge, she began to work the back of his neck and across his shoulders, washing away burdens and tensions both. As she continued to his throat and down his chest, his arms wrapped around her and held her close. She dropped the sponge and slid down along his suds slick chest, to meet him face to face.

Their wet bodies moved easily against each other, buoyed by the warm water around them. She felt him harden and moved her hips against him, hoping to excite him more. A soft moan, or was it a whimper, told her she had been successful. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull herself closer, and raised her face to brush his lips, ever so softly, with her own. She smiled as she looked at him and felt like she was seeing into his soul.

"I get lost in your eyes," he whispered.

When she finally stood, the water ran from her body in a flood which lessened to streams, which in turn lessened to tiny rivulets trailing seductively down her breasts and thighs. She stepped from the tub and wrapped a thick towel around her, tucking the end between her breasts to hold it. She held her hand out to him and, when he rose, watched the water run from his body as he had watched hers. She feel the heat between her legs build as she watched each drop fall from the tip of his erection, and the sparkling droplets clinging to the dark hair surrounding it. She held a towel for him, but didn't hand it to him. Instead, she knelt at his feet and began drying his calves, working to his thighs and hips. She rubbed the soft cloth over his arms and chest and down his back. Finally, when he began to think she wouldn't, she gently folded the towel between his legs, carefully drying the remaining moisture between his cheeks and along his cock.

"All done," she said with a smile, "except for this." She held his hand close to her heart, then slowly, holding his eyes with hers, pulled it to her lips to gently suck each finger into her warm mouth, one at a time, past her lips and over her tongue, leading his mind exactly where she wanted it. "Want some lunch?" she asked as she turned and left him standing, holding his towel. "I'll see you downstairs."