The Snow Came Down

This one was Inspired by

The Rain came Down

, by the great

Papatoad

. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed reading his.

It has once again been edited by the lovely CTC, so all errors are hers, not mine. Ouch... that's spousal abuse that is. It has been independently rated at over 3 pickaxe handles.

May 2021 be a better year for those that had a crap 2020.

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The crash of thunder shocked me from sleep. It rolled around the mountains well after rousing me, leaving me in no doubt as to why I was awake. Everything else was hazy though; afternoon naps do that to me. They leave me groggy and disorientated. Slowly, as the thunder rumbled, it all came back.

I was in bed at the cabin. The big lump beside me—Brian—was still snoring. We must have fallen asleep after making love earlier in the afternoon. Well, I say making love, but I use the term loosely; it certainly hadn't seemed like that at the time. It was Friday, and we'd both bunked off work at lunchtime and driven to the cabin where we normally met. The cabin on the lake belonged to a friend of Brian's. The cabin that was at the end of the twelve-kilometre (7 ½ mile) series of dirt roads.

We'd been prevented from getting together for over a month now. Prevented by life in the form of children, jobs, social functions and... other stuff. That's why I used the term making love loosely. What actually happened when we arrived at the cabin was Brian grabbing me as soon as I walked through the door, pushing me to my knees, forcing his raging cock into my mouth, then holding the back of my head while he thrust in and out, all the way to unloading down my throat. Half the time I was worried about choking or vomiting from the gagging. It was painful and uncomfortable, but mostly it was humiliating. I would have blasted him except there was a tiny part of me, the inner animal, that was proud of myself for unleashing the beast within him.

After he came he wasn't capable of much at all, so I took over, shoving him to the bedroom, stripping us both, pushing him onto his back on the bed, and using his face to get myself off and get him up for round two. He pounded me to several much needed orgasms before grunting a second time. Then, stupidly, we both fell asleep.

It was pitch black outside the cottage. Rain, heavy rain, began to lash the tin roof and windows, and I could hear the wind roaring, increasing in velocity, in the eucalypts around the lake. In a momentary panic, I grabbed my cell phone and was relieved to see it was only 5.15 p.m. If I woke Brian and denied his inevitable request to fuck again, took it easy on the slippery dirt roads that would take me to the highway, then stuck to the speed limit back to town, I would be home a mere hour after my usual time on a Friday.

All I had to do was ring my husband and tell him I'd be a little late. Stopping for a drink with the girls always went unquestioned. If he seemed unfazed by my news, well, Brian and I might have time for another round. Who knew when his wife would be out of town again and we'd be able to meet?

I stretched out luxuriously under the sheets. Life was good. I had it all. A doting husband whose business acumen was on track to supply us with an early retirement and the ability to escape long winters by travelling to Europe, a dream that we both shared. Returning home to spoil the grandchildren that were bound to start popping out of our three children in the near future. The youngest of our tribe had just gotten married.

On top of all that, I had the thrill and excitement of a lover. My five-years-younger-than me boss, a successful businessman in his own right, alpha male, who had rejuvenated my flagging libido and given me the excitement I thought was gone forever from my life. Sure, the sex was good, with the added benefit of re-awakening the lust I felt for my husband as well, but it was the thrill of the illicit that drew me back again and again. The best analogy would be to say it was like a drug high. If Brian continued doing what he was told and we remained being extraordinarily cautious, then there was no reason we couldn't keep this up indefinitely. Well, until sex with Brian became dull and mundane as well.

I thought, not for the first time, that maybe my taking a lover was spurred by Dave's and my impending retirement. Once we were living in each other's pockets and travelling, the opportunities to stray would be almost non-existent.

Focus girl! Time to ring hubby.

To guard against Brian waking while I was on the phone, I woke him beforehand. Incredible attention to every detail, no matter how small, was how we'd prevented our spouses finding out about our year-long affair and continued focus was how we would maintain that.

Once Brian was awake and I'd removed all possibility of immediate sex, I shushed him while I hit hubby's speed dial number. As it rang, I idly hoped there wouldn't be another clap of thunder. It was possible that the storm hadn't hit our town yet. I decided to minimise the risk by being brief. The home answer phone cut in and, relieved, I started saying I was stopping for a couple of martinis with the girls and would be home around seven or eight and to go ahead and eat without me. No sooner had the words left my lips when I heard Dave pick up. What he said was simple and chilling.

"What about my birthday?"

Fuck! Had I been so distracted by my planning and lusting that I'd forgotten his big day? I'm not a monster, I could easily put myself in his shoes and imagine how I would feel if it was him getting up in the morning and forgetting to wish me many happy returns. Would I think he'd been lazy and had taken me for granted or would I think it was deliberate, to build up the surprise for something special he'd planned for that evening? Trouble was, I had nothing planned. I'd plum forgotten. Time to think quickly. Stall his expectation of me being home in fifteen minutes, buy him something on the way and distract him with a night of sex that would leave him smiling for a week. The trouble was, I had a policy of not having sex with my husband within twenty-four hours of being with Brian. Oh well, needs must. Throwing myself on his mercy and decrying my fickle memory, I told him I would be there within the hour. Screw the speed limit and what was the point of having a fancy SUV if I couldn't push it along a wet dirt road?

I yelled at Brian that I was leaving as I scrambled out of the bed, used a very cold flannel to swab my leaking vagina or the worst of its drool, threw on my clothes and sprinted through the near horizontal rain to my car.

Which wouldn't start.

The engine turned over fine, it just wouldn't go. The warning light that I recognised as the general engine fault light was glowing orange. I felt my blood pressure elevate by at least fifteen points but a plan quickly formed. I would get Brian to drop me around the corner from home and tell my husband I'd taken an Uber from the bar. I was sure Brian wouldn't mind stopping while I did some gift shopping.

I returned to the cabin just as Brian's phone rang. Hearing Brian's side of the conversation it sounded like his wife was home early from her trip and was wondering where he was. He looked fairly relaxed as he said he had a half hour's work to finish, so he'd be home in an hour.

I hustled him out the door and immediately shivered. It was cold. The temperature had dropped drastically since my arrival at the cabin. As soon as he turned his headlights on, I noticed there was snow mixed in with the freezing rain. It really had turned into a horrible evening. Thank God Brian's car started and he eased onto the narrow gravel strip and headed south.

While I waited for the heater to warm the car's interior, I pondered the nagging feeling I'd had since phoning home. I probed it. Then it struck me. Dave had expressed no disappointment or even surprise that I'd forgotten his birthday. Why the hell was that? If the tables were turned, I'd be livid. Despite our increased sexual activity, I knew we'd drifted apart emotionally over the last year or so but couldn't believe it was as pronounced as all that. If it was, that was a huge breach of security. My research on affairs had shown that one of the biggest clues to infidelity was a sudden emotional withdrawal. All the more reason to rock Dave's socks off when I arrived home.

For the second time in half an hour, an enormous crash roused me. Things happened so fast it took me seconds to unravel them. We were going up a steep section of road with switchbacks where the road doubled back on itself. The wind must have dislodged a dead branch which had smashed Brian's windscreen totally. In a panic, he'd hit the brakes and slid into the bank. That was lucky as there was a drop off on the other side.

Rain poured in the window, Brian yelled that he kept an emergency pack in the trunk containing raincoats among other things. He grabbed a torch from the glovebox and went out into the sleet. He was gone over a minute, returning soaking wet with a puzzled look on his face. The whole bag of emergency supplies was gone, apparently. It definitely wasn't there, according to him; how could he miss a bright yellow bag?

With no choice, and with considerable anxiety, I sat quietly as Brian gingerly reversed the car out of the ditch. Our only piece of luck thus far was that out it did come. He resumed driving up the switchback. I jumped in the back seat. It wasn't so bad when we were going one direction, the wind was behind us, but as soon as we turned into the wind, Brian copped the lot. I could see his knuckles on the steering wheel were white from the tension and the cold. I was cold enough in the back.

We finally reached the plateau above the switchbacks and headed along flatter, straighter roads. Alas, straight into the wind. We slowed to a crawl. I began to shiver uncontrollably. It must have been about ten minutes later when I was busy in my head planning, when Brian cursed, the car lurched and then slewed off the road. Luckily, we were only going about 10kph when we hit the tree. Brian's foray outside revealed we'd lost a front wheel and the studs were sheared off. We weren't going any further in that car.

Not for the first time, my anxiety escalated and I began worrying about my physical as well as my emotional safety. All I had on was my work uniform consisting of a straight-legged skirt, pantihose, a thin blouse, and a jacket designed for looks rather than warmth. It would keep me from getting soaked to the skin for about ten seconds in this weather. Brian was worse off than me; he was already soaked. While we discussed what to do, he kept the engine running with the heater on full bore. We debated options. Both our cell phones were useless. Normally, there was one bar of signal at the cabin, but between there and the highway was a blind spot. Brian estimated we were about seven kilometres from the cabin and about five from the highway. That meant we were about two kilometres from where another dirt road forked off. We could expect zero cars to be coming to the isolated lake on this section of road tonight, but the joining road should be busier. At worst, we could keep going to the highway and flag someone down.

Brian looked at the dashboard. The good news was that we had enough fuel to keep the heater going all night. The bad news was that the engine temperature warning light had just come on. Brian guessed the tree we'd slid into had punctured the radiator. In his opinion, the engine would overheat and seize in less than fifteen minutes.

A walk was in our future and rather than risk our body temperatures cooling while we waited for the inevitable, we decided to start walking now. I thought of lambasting Brian for the shoddy maintenance of his car and his driving skills, Dave would never have lost control after losing a wheel at that speed but limited myself to glaring at him. Muttering about 'Friday the fucking thirteenth', he opened his door again and I followed him outside.

Outside was as ghastly as it looked. Near horizontal sleet and a huge wind chill. I was soaked in seconds. Brian, with the only torch, set a brisk pace homeward causing me to have to half run to keep up.

To distract myself from the stinging sleet, I wondered what Dave was thinking at that very moment. He might think I was having trouble finding a cab and couldn't ring because my phone had gone flat. That would stop him from being concerned for a while but, knowing Dave, at some stage he would begin to feel worried. In desperation, I hoped that meant that when I finally did show up he would be so relieved that he would accept whatever feeble excuse I could think of between now and then.

The rapid pace had the effect of keeping me a little warm, but not for long. Soon, I began to shiver uncontrollably and each shard of sleet felt like a needle prick against my face and hands. Brian wasn't faring any better and I nearly tripped over him when he stumbled. When we came to the intersection of the more used dirt road, entering on our right we paused and I gave myself a hug, trapping my hands in my armpits. I could feel their iciness through my jacket and blouse. With a hopeful glance over my shoulder, I followed Brian toward the highway. I knew it was a race against time now. We couldn't bank on anyone using the dirt road so it was simply a race against the cold to the bitumen highway.

We hadn't gone fifty metres before Brian stumbled again. This time it took him a while to get up. He accepted my help but shook off my hand as soon as he was upright. I couldn't understand what he seemed to be blaming me for. We resumed walking, our brisk pace a thing of the past. Now it was mere trudging.

Suddenly, the wind abruptly stopped and it began gently snowing. The relief from the wind was immediate but it did highlight the sound of the constant chatter of Brian's teeth. Other sounds emitting from him made me realise he was really struggling. Each time he stumbled it took longer for him to get going again. Finally, there came a time when he stumbled and went all the way down, rolling onto his back on the road. I grabbed his torch as it rolled away from his prone body and immediately noticed that his hands and face were ghostly white. He begged to be allowed to lie there and just sleep. I knew if I let him do that he'd die so I called him a pussy and all types of things, anything I could think of to make him angry. I saw a tiny spark of defiance in his eyes and he staggered upright and began stumbling down the road again. I doubted if he would rise from the next fall.

With numb and clumsy fingers, I dragged my phone from my pocket to see if we had signal yet, but it was soaked and dead.

Then, the prayed for miracle happened. We were suddenly bathed in the light from a vehicle coming down the road behind us. It braked hard to avoid us, we were in the middle of the road.

A well-rugged up man jumped out of the driver's side of what turned out to be a white van. The man mid-thirties maybe, a little scruffy. The van had certainly seen better days. He opened the sliding door and gestured us into the interior. It was one of those vans with just seats in the front, the back being an empty space. The floor was scratched and scuffed, suggesting it was a delivery van. The presence of two different sized cardboard boxes confirmed that theory. As I gratefully pulled myself into the rear, I noticed it had extended headroom and I could comfortably stand.

Brian tried to follow me in but was having trouble lifting his legs. The guy stepped in and basically pulled Brian after him. He closed the side door and the relief was immediate. Brian slumped heavily onto a box while the guy crawled through to the cab and cranked up the heater before facing the back again.

"Where to, folks?"

"Town, please. As quick as you can."

An animalistic look of cunning crossed the guy's grimy face. My heart sank. Was the guy some kind of serial killer? Had Brian and I gone from the frying pan to the fire?

The guy was in a powerful position and he knew it. Life or death hung in his hands. He could throw us both out of the van, very possibly to our deaths by hypothermia. In our current state of being neither of us were strong enough to stop him. Shit, he could probably finish us both by just sitting here. We needed more than the van's heater to stop our body temperatures falling. The guy's eyes lingered over Brian; assessing the threat, I guessed.

"It'll cost you."

I started to fumble in my sodden handbag.

"You can put that away; I don't need your money."

"What is it you want then?" The last was said in a voice through chattering teeth.

With his piggy eyes on Brian, Scruffy said, "A blowjob would be nice."

I suppose he thought Brian and I were man and wife. Keeping an eye on Brian guarded against him leaping to my defence. Brian's eyes flashed but he continued full-body shivering and his face still had the sickly pale pallor I'd seen in the torchlight.

I idly wondered how far he'd go to defend my honour. That question was silently answered when he focused pleading eyes on me. We both knew that I might survive a delay getting into a warm bath, but he probably wouldn't. Nevertheless, what his silent plea was asking me to do caused me to lose whatever respect I still had for him. It transformed into an equal amount of contempt and hate. Fuck him; I'd call our 'saviour's' bluff. I turned to the slimeball.

"You lowlife piece of shit! I'd rather die than have any part of you near me. Even if you force me, you'll have to murder us to stop my husband from hunting you down and killing you afterwards."

The slimeball turned a strange look toward me. It was part sneer, part amusement, with a tinge of disgust thrown in.

"I wasn't talking to you."

Five simple words and the game had totally changed. It took Brian many more seconds than me to realise what was happening, but when he did, incredibly, his face turned paler. Soon the random movement of his shivering turned into distinct shakes of his head, which we all knew was the only defence he could mount if push came to shove.

A sudden wave of hatred overcame me. This was all Brian's fault. If he hadn't crashed the stupid car, I would have arrived home, damp, two hours ago. I could have bluffed my way past my naïve husband's probing, saying I'd decided to try to find him a birthday present on the way back from the bar. If I were to distract him in his favourite way as soon as I could, and keep my apologies up half of the night, he would soon be at heel where he usually was. Then, my only problem would be ensuring he didn't notice how sloppy I was. Perhaps it was time to sacrifice my anal virginity for the cause.

Now, I was going to arrive over three hours late, soaking wet, with no gift, and in no fit state to distract Dave. That meant having to answer some pretty embarrassing questions. And it was all Brian's fault. He'd been more than willing to sacrifice my virtue for his safety, now the bastard could give his up.

I stood, with difficulty, walked behind the slumped Brian, grabbed an arm in each hand and held them behind his back. He turned his head and looked at me desperately and with what anger he had the resources for. Our so-called rescuer smiled and came toward us, unzipping his fly as he approached. Brian thrashed his head feebly from side to side but all to no avail. With practiced ease, the guy grabbed the back of Brian's head with one hand, while forcing his mouth open with the other.

"No biting," he admonished with a sick smile.