Land of the Midnight Sun

LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN

PART TWO ~ NO ROOM AT THE INN

Author's note: This installment does not stand alone. Characters and storyline are developed in Part One.

I. NO ROOM AT THE INN

Riksgransen is a small town in northern-most Sweden, 130 miles above the Arctic Circle, and is a major ski area. In order to catch our 9:30 a.m. flight for the first leg of the trip, we had to check out by 7:30. As arranged, we met in the lobby at 7 a.m. It was obvious we were all exhausted. My darling wife broke the silence.

"Good morning. I guess we're not the only ones that didn't get much sleep. Did you guys go back to your room and have a long heart to heart...or did you fuck yourselves silly, like we did?" She finished with a big grin.

Greg looked down at Jessie, who shrugged and smiled. He looked at us, with his own grin, "Fucked ourselves silly."

I added, "Yeah, it was pretty busy in our room last, what with different people coming and going, going and coming..."

Lynn punched my arm.

Jessie tilted her head, feigning confusion, "I think the lock was broken on our door."

"Unwelcomed visitors?" I speculated.

"Oh no. They were welcome," she finished with a sly grin.

Lynn cracked up, then remarked, "Okay we have a plane to catch. Let's get this group of sex fiends headed that way."

From Stockholm, we flew to a small airport in Kiruna, Sweden. From there, we took the train to Riksgransen (buses also make the run, but I prefer the train). Altogether, the trip took about 7 and 1/2-hours. When we arrived at our lodge outside Riksgransen, it was after 5 p.m.

There are only two hotels in Riksgransen, one large hotel-style facility, and one small boutique hotel, the "Meteorologen Ski Lodge," which is the place to stay if you can get reservations. The lodge itself isn't that spectacular from the outside. It looks like a big two-story barn, including barn-red paint. Until recently, it was a meteorological research station, hence the name. It was repurposed and renovated after the researchers left. Inside, it is very inviting with a pleasant atmosphere. However, that is not the big draw -- that is the personal service and the fabulous in-lodge restaurant. It is not a large facility with only 14 rooms, all unique, based on the original structure's layout.

During ski season, the rooms are booked up, a year in advance. We made our reservations right after we got back from our biennial vacation in Fiji, two years ago. Now we were finally here -- well half of us. I thought of Sam and Charlotte and felt bad for them. The last time we called, Rick was doing well, all things considered.

As we entered the lodge, I returned to the here and now.

Though not overly fancy, the lodge is well-appointed, and at the moment, most importantly, warm (outside, with wind chill, it was around 5 degrees, Fahrenheit). As we approached the front desk, amazing aromas were coming from the kitchen, making my mouth water and my stomach grumble. But first things first -- check in, bag drag and freshen up.

The young woman at the front desk greeted us in slightly accented English, "Good afternoon. You have reservations, yes?"

Lynn answered, "Yes, and here are our passports." Then she explained about Greg and Jessie taking our in-laws' place.

The lady was nodding her head as Lynn spoke, but her expression seemed at odds with the affirmative motion of her head.

When Lynn finished, Birgitta, the desk clerk, said, "Yes, we have been expecting you. Um, just a moment. Patrick, the guests you were waiting for are here."

Patrick, who turned out to be the owner, and a great host, came over and greeted us, eyeing Greg and Jessie.

Birgitta quickly explained in Swedish about the change.

I didn't think you could be Samuel and Charlotte," he said brightly, "but we are so glad you could join us in their place."

I spoke up, "Is there a problem, we made these reservations almost two years ago."

"No, Sean, no problem with your reservations. But there is a problem with your rooms."

I now remembered speaking with Patrick several times. He not only arranged for our accommodations, but made other arrangements for the activities during our week-long stay, including custom ski rentals and a helicopter tour.

He continued, "Actually, with one room. Yesterday, one of the previous guests broke a water fixture. Making the long story short, as you say, it took a long time to learn of the problem and stop the water. So, the room was flooded, and water damage has rendered it unusable for several days. As soon as it is usable, we will immediately make it available. Until then, we were hoping you could share the remaining..."

I interrupted, "What about the other hotel, it's large, it must have something."

"No, we have already checked, there is nothing. We tried unsuccessfully to reach you in Stockholm..."

I interrupted again, "Are there no other options? We can't share..."

My wife gave my hand a discreet, hard squeeze. I got it. Don't be the asshole American tourist.

I started over, "I apologize, we're a little tired -- long day. I'm afraid we had a bit too much fun in Stockholm, last night.

Patrick smiled and gave a knowing nod. My wife discreetly rolled her eyes.

I asked, "Please, as you were saying?"

He continued, "As we thought it was going to be you and your in-laws, we were hoping you could share the remaining room. It is our largest and there are two very comfortable Haskens beds. Of course, now you have a different situation with your new travel companions."

Turning to me, Lynn offered, "Well, if there are two beds and it's a big room, don't you think we would could make do? We will be skiing and outdoors most of the time."

Jessie chimed in, "I think we can make it work."

"Yeah, sure, we should be able to," Greg added.

"Well," I smiled, "I guess we're all agreed. We'll make it work. We can still have a great time."

Patrick brightened and grasped my hand, "Yes, thank you, and of course, we will refund you for the other room, even if you are able to use it later. And all your meals are on us for your entire stay. Plus, complimentary cocktails if you drink..." he paused.

I gave a small smile, "We've been known to have one or two. The complimentary meals are not necessary, but greatly appreciated. We have heard nothing but praise for your chef and his kitchen."

He thanked me for the compliment and nodded to a young man, and between them, they gathered as many bags as they could and started for our room upstairs. We grabbed the remaining ones and followed. After opening the room, Patrick asserted if we needed anything, not to hesitate to call on him.

The room was not large by American standards, or upscale by any standard, but for a Scandinavian ski lodge, it was top shelf -- immaculately clean, no-nonsense amenities, a small but functional bathroom and the famously comfortable Haskens beds.

Yes, famously comfortable Haskens beds -- two of them...

Two 'twin-size' beds!

In much of Europe, it is typical to have the double twin set up. If a couple wants to sleep together, the beds are pushed together, if not, they're separated.

But now, there would be 'two' people in each twin bed. I'm a big guy. Lynn is tall, all arms and legs. Greg is good-sized, and Jessie...well there's the issue of all the extra room she needs for her breasts...

Of course, sleeping arrangements was just one of our problems. We'll get to the others.

The lodge's kitchen is famous for its authentic Swedish cuisine, prepared, whenever possible, with locally sourced goods, including from Norway (you could throw a rock and hit Sweden's westerly neighbor). And it's no stretch to call the offerings here, 'cuisine'. The chef and his staff provide a truly excellent dining experience. In fact, when the ski season is over, the lodge shuts down, but the dining facility remains open year-round.

Suffice it to say, we had a great meal. After one cocktail, we retired to our room. After some small talk, bathroom calls, and shedding clothes, we went to bed, and crashed. It was only 9 p.m. That night, nobody had a problem with the small beds, sharing the room, or sleeping soundly.

II. COMMODIUS ACCOMMODATION

The next morning, we awoke early. Greg and Jessie were still asleep, so we slipped out of bed, grabbed some fresh underclothes and hit the shower. The bathroom was small and not built for two; the shower is actually over the commode area and you pull the assembly and curtain around to bathe. We made do in the cramped quarters, put our underclothes on and snuck back to get dressed. We needn't have sneaked. Greg and Jessie were up and sitting in their pajamas, such as they were.

Greg was wearing his boxers and t-shirt from yesterday. Jessie, however, was wearing a powder blue, baby doll nightie she had slipped into after we fell asleep. It hid almost nothing. I noticed.

She noticed me notice. "Sorry," she shrugged.

Lynn smirked, "Oh, don't be sorry, hon, you've made his morning. But why don't you guys get your showers and we'll head down to check out breakfast. You can join us after you're ready."

Greg asked, "When does breakfast start? It's just after 6:30."

I replied, "I'm not sure, we'll check and let you know. Hang the do-not-disturb sign out until you're decent," They headed for the bathroom and we finished dressing.

We arrived at the dining room and learned the breakfast buffet opened at 7 a.m. Starting at 6 a.m., skiers could pick up prepackaged breakfast and lunch bags, plus juice and hot coffee. We waited till seven and checked out the buffet. It looked delicious and included European, American, and traditional Scandinavian breakfast fare.

We lingered downstairs a little longer, getting hungrier by the minute. We decided to check on Greg and Jessie. When we arrived at the room, the sign was off the door and it was unlocked (no fancy, hotel card locks), so we let ourselves in.

Jessies was standing by her bed, getting ready to put on her panties -- otherwise, butt-naked. Greg was just coming out of the bathroom, toweling his hair, dick dangling between his legs -- and oblivious to us. They hadn't put out the sign or locked the door.

Jessie gasped, Greg looked, they both froze. Then Greg jerked the towel in front of his goods and Jessie promptly held her panties in front of her breasts to cover them. About three seconds passed before she realized her muff was 'to the breeze', gasped again, jerked her hands and panties down to cover her vulva, immediately realized her breasts were uncovered, then, wide-eyed, froze again.

We got an eyeful. Jessie was definitely a natural blonde, her breasts were absolutely real, and Greg, yeah, his dick was fucking long. Thanks a bunch.

Lynn laughed, "Oh, don't bother. This is silly. We are going to be here together all week. This isn't going to work, so let's just get past it," and started unbuttoning her blouse. She shot me a look that said, "Get to it."

I shot her a look that said, "You're fucking kidding!" It didn't make a dent, so I started unbuttoning my shirt.

"Don't bother covering, honey, you're just depriving Sean of the view," Lynn directed at Jessie, then continued stripping.

I stripped down to my boxer briefs, then paused.

My wife, now naked, gave me another look, an "uh un, lose 'em, bud." So, I did. My semi-flaccid penis flopped out and I stood up.

Lynn gave Greg a "You too, bud," look. He complied.

Jessie finally dropped her hands to the side and I just stared at her, like I'd never seen a beautiful, natural blonde gymnast with big tits before. My penis became less flaccid. I thought, "How immature am I?"

"See, that wasn't so bad," Lynn quipped, smiling.

"N-now what?" Jessie stammered.

Lynn replied perkily, "Now we put our clothes on, you finish getting ready, then we go to breakfast. I'm famished."

Another problem solved.

We went down and ate our fill of a delicious breakfast. We were ravenous and I think the staff was worried they would run out of food. I'm pretty sure I saw them holding back some sausages for the sake of late arrivals.

Regardless, the food did not distract me from recalling every square inch of Jessie's taut, young body. As I said, I'm not a breast man, but ugh, what breasts -- they were just as big and full as I had imagined, and her dark, silver dollar-sized aureoles and plump nipples...Crap, I was getting a boner at the breakfast table (pretty damned immature). As if reading my mind, Lynn laid a hand on my left leg, tracing my burgeoning erection. A discreet, sly smile came to her lips.

After breakfast, we hit the slopes and skied until we were exhausted and a bit wind-burned. Having skipped lunch, we were starving again. But we were also hot and sweaty. We headed to the room for showers before dinner.

Once in the room, Lynn announced, "If it's okay, we'll go first." She unzipped her ski-suit and peeled off her thermals. I followed, and naked, we headed for the bathroom. It almost felt natural, almost.

After our showers, we vacated the bathroom to dry off and give the bathroom to Jessie and Greg, who were sitting in their underclothes. They stood, hesitated a moment, then stripped them off and headed to the bathroom. I got my first view of Jessie's backside. Her butt is smaller than Lynn's, a bit firmer, more muscular. Due to her regimen, Lynn's is very firm, but fuller and less muscular-looking. Okay, they are different, but both sexy as hell. And I am a 'legs and ass' man!

Greg entered the bathroom first. As Jessie entered, she glanced back, catching me staring, and sporting a half hard-on. She gave a small smile. Lynn saw what was going on and gave her a wink and me an elbow. Jessie's smile broke into a grin and she closed the door behind her.

My wife leaned over and whispered, "I think we're going to have to fuck real soon. I'm horny as hell."

"Yup," I replied.

III. COITAL INSPIRATION

Dinner was amazing. We each had something different. I had Palt, or Kroppkakor -- a type of potato dumpling stuffed with fried pork. Lynn had Kalops -- a uniquely Swedish stew. Greg had Kottbullar -- Swedish meatballs. And Jessie went with Wallenbergare -- a sort of Swedish meatloaf/burger made with veal. All were disgustingly delicious.

Afterward, we went to the small bar and ordered drinks. Surprisingly well stocked, among other selections, they had Grand Marnier and Don Julio Reposado, a respectable tequila for margaritas, and reasonably sippable. We ordered our usual. After a couple drinks, we requested enough fixings to make cocktails in our room. A bus boy brought everything up, including plenty of ice and extra drink glasses.

One of the adjustments Patrick made to the room was to get us two extra arm chairs and a slightly larger table. We sat around, enjoying our drinks and discussing the day's fabulous skiing. I informed Greg and Jessie that tomorrow, being the weekend, there would be night skiing with torches lighting the slopes. They were ecstatic.

Without preamble, in the middle of our conversation, my darling wife announced, "I need to fuck, right now."

My reaction was mixed: I was stunned, embarrassed, and immediately aroused. I started to say something, but all that came out of my mouth was, "Uh?"

Lynn stood, grabbed my hand and began unbuttoning her blouse with her free hand. As we headed for our bed, I snuck a peek at Greg and Jessie.

Their reaction wasn't mixed, they were gob-smacked.

Greg stammered, "Um, I, we'll go downstairs and..."

My wife exclaimed, "Greg, honey, don't bother. You kids can get busy, too...or, just watch. Either way, we need to make this adjustment. I'm sure you guys need to fuck as bad as we do!"

The last was barked as Lynn was facing away from them, bending over, and stripping her panties down. They both got an unsolicited view of my wife's world-class ass, and a peak at her world-class pussy...Okay, I haven't seen pussies from all over the world, but I'll lay 2 to 1 odds...

Jessie got up first, headed for their bed and started stripping. Greg was frozen to his chair for a moment, staring at my wife's ass and beautiful twat.

(It really is beautiful {And, no, all vaginas are not beautiful just by virtue of being vaginas -- some are downright ugly -- sorry ladies}. As I described before, her vulva, is covered with a rich mound of thick, curly, dark brown hair. Below her mound, extend her shaved, moderately sized, slender outer labia {not puffy}; her inner labia are also slender, moderate in length, and diminutive {not 'flappy' at all}. Her vagina, or vaginal opening is small and 'neat' and the same dusky pink as her inner labia, or vaginal lips. A beautiful, 'world-class' pussy! I rest my case.)

Lynn crawled on the bed and lying down with her legs spread and knees up, assumed the position for cunnilingus. I needed no further inspiration, finished stripping and scooted between her legs. As I did, I saw that Jessie was sitting on the bed, naked, watching us, and Greg was busy stripping. Then he joined her, watching us.

I immediately went to work and my wife started vocalizing, "Oh, umm, yeah. Oh, ...oh yes, yes, now, there, yes, ungh, fuck! Damn, you give the best cunny, honey."

I lifted my head and smiled. I heard a small "Oh my," escape Jessie's lips and slightly turned my head to look over. That's when I saw Greg's full-blown erection, something I didn't really want to see, but there it was. It was pointing straight up and past his belly button. The damn thing was over ten inches long. The shaft was straight and reasonably thick with a head that was about the same size as the shaft. I'm not an expert on men's erect penises, but I've seen a few in porn, and though I didn't exactly focus on the peckers, I'm pretty sure Greg's was 'porn worthy'. Embarrassed, I buried my head back between my wife's thighs and got busy.

Grabbing my hair, Lynn lifted my head and huskily growled, "On your back -- 69."

Oh, goody.

We maneuvered into position; Lynn swung a leg over my head and planted her vulva on my face, grabbed my cock with one hand and supported herself with the other. Then she slipped the head into her mouth and down the shaft as far as she could. My semi-erect penis was no longer semi, but swelled to its full 8 inches.

My dick isn't that long, but as my wife puts it, "What a big, fat cock!" as my girth next to my head is pretty big and my cockhead is even a tad larger (She compares it to sticking a beer can in her pussy -- I don't think my head is 'that' big...and I don't think she's ever really stuck a...never mind). The shaft of my penis is actually a little smaller at the base than next to the head -- a bit different, I know. Enough about my dick, thank you.

After only a couple minutes, Lynn indicated it was time and spun around planting her knees on each side of my hips, positioning my cock between her legs and aiming it at her now slick opening.

As she settled down on me, taking in my full length, she grunted, "Oh fuck, I love that big bastard," and started slowly humping up and down.

When she spun around and mounted me, releasing my head from between her thighs, I looked over at the commotion on the other bed. Jessie was on her back, legs spread, feet sticking in the air, and Greg was busy long stroking her.

I guess they got inspired.

It was all very erotic, and almost seemed normal...yeah, but not.

I looked back up at my wife who had quickened her pace. She was looking down at me and grinning, then she also turned back to watching Greg and Jessie.

In no time, Lynn started humping faster, bouncing up and down rapidly, her plump breasts dancing over me and her dark hair an undulating cloud all around my head. I grabbed her butt cheeks and started helping her speed towards orgasm and thrusting my hips up in rhythm to her down strokes, making our bodies slap together.