The sound of bindings clicking into place brought me back instantly to my early twenties. Competing in cross country had been my passion -- and I'd nearly gotten on the U.S. Olympic Team.
Now, 42, and a mom of three, I was putting on my skis for a very different reason -- to get help for our family, trapped in a cabin by six feet of snow up on Washington state's Mt. Rainer.
Are you sure this will work?" my 23-year-old son Jeff had asked.
"Well," I said. "Since we don't have cell or internet, there's no way to know if more snow is on the way or what. The main problem is that it'll take me a while to get to Bill's and probably tomorrow before I can come back. You three will be alone. Think you can handle it?"
My two 18-year-old twin daughters, Casey and Chloe, looked at me with confidence. They'd been in the outdoors since they were young. Of course they could handle one night alone. At the time, I had no idea what kind of a night it was going to be!
I secured my backpack, grabbed the poles and pushed off. I'd skied the upper meadow to Bill Watson's house many times. The sun was out, and the view from high above the valley was something out of a Christmas card.
Though I'd left competitive skiing behind years ago, I'd stayed in shape, and it showed. I was pleased with the muscle tone of my legs and arms as I sped along.
It took about three hours to get to Bill's place. Bill has known our family for many years, and our kids kind of grew up together.
"Hey Sami, I wondered when I'd see you," Bill said, stepping out onto his porch as I skied up.
"Hey Bill!" I said, clicking off my bindings and taking off one strap of my backpack.
"Let me get that, Mrs. Stevens."
It was Patrick, Bill's son. Patrick was 23, the same age as my Jeff.
"Patrick, I haven't been Mrs. Stevens in many years! Please call me Sami."
Patrick reached for the backpack. I noticed how much he'd grown. He was at least six feet, brown hair and eyes, a muscular figure but with a kind face.
As I looked at him, I froze a bit. He looked so much like my brother Simon. My mind went back to a time when we were both 23, fraternal twins who couldn't be separated. We'd shared a lot more that year than a normal brother and sister would.
"Sami?" Patrick said, tugging on the backpack strap.
"Oh!" I said, letting go. "Sorry about that!"
"Are you okay?" Patrick asked, grabbing my poles.
"Of course!" I said, a little embarrassed. "You just remind me of someone. You're so grown up -- so much a man!"
Patrick blushed a little but said nothing.
"Come on in and warm up, Sami," Bill said as I stepped up on the porch. "I've got the fire blazing as usual!"
"Thanks, Bill," I said, taking his hand. "Our power is out too and the road, well, you know."
Bill laughed. "Lots of folks lost power I'd guess. Don't you have a generator?"
I stomped my feet on the porch. "Yeah, but we forgot the fuel. Hoping you can spare some."
"No problem," Bill said. "We've got plenty of fuel!"
"I can fill a can for you, um, Sami," Patrick said, laying my poles and backpack near the door.
"That'd be great!" I said.
"Well, it'll be dark before you can get back. You should stay the night," Bill said, opening the door and ushering me inside.
"I don't want to be a bother," I said.
"Never!" Bill said. "Glad to have you!"
Bill's place was warm, very warm.
"I put the can next to your skis, Sami," Patrick said, coming in.
I couldn't keep my mind, or my eyes, off Patrick. I usually dated men my age, but there hadn't been much action in that arena for a while. It was more the memories of Simon, I think. It got me to thinking about the wonderful experiences we'd had, exploring things that a brother and sister don't usually explore.
At dinner, I could have sworn that Patrick was checking me out. More than once, I could see him eyeing my chest and even saw him check out my ass. I was flattered and a little turned on by it. Our conversation was lively, and Patrick joined right in. I liked him, a lot.
We sat around the fire for a while until Patrick got up. "Headed to bed," he said. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Patrick," I said, watching his ass as he strode down the hall.
"He's a good kid, Bill," I said, looking back to my host.
"I agree!" Bill said. "You know, I'm going to hit the hay too."
I found myself yawning. "I guess I did get quite a workout today."
We stood and I grabbed my backpack. I opened it up and that's when it hit me. I hadn't brought anything to wear!
"Hey Bill!" I called out into the hall.
"What'ya need?" Bill asked.
"I'm embarrassed to say I didn't bring anything to wear to bed!"
"No worries!" Bill said. "Ask Patrick for a shirt -- he wears a large so that should work."
"Thanks!" I said.
I ventured into the dark hall. I figured Patrick's room was at the end. I noticed candlelight coming from the room. I knocked softly and pushed the door open.
"Patrick?" I said softly.
It was dim inside but as my eyes adjusted, I saw Patrick step from a walk-in closet. He was just removing a t-shirt and had only his underwear on.
I was mesmerized. I looked him up and down. He had large chest muscles and a spectacular six-pack. His dick was held straight up by tight underwear. His legs were very thick with muscles.
"Need something?" he said, making no move to cover up.
"Um, sorry," I said, looking up into his eyes. "Your, um, dad said you'd have a shirt I could borrow."
"Sure," Patrick said easily. He reached into the closet and handed me a button-down shirt.
"Thanks!" I said, sheepishly, and retreated from the room.
"Let me know if there's anything else you need," Patrick said as he closed the door.
In my room I held the shirt to my nose. It smelled like Patrick. I took off my clothes except for panties. I stood in front of the mirror and was pleased with what I saw. Legs long and lanky, a flat stomach, and my large breasts, still firm and full, even after having three kids. My nipples stood out nearly straight from my chest. Maybe there was a reason Patrick was checking me out.
I put on Patrick's shirt. It was pretty hot, so I knew I couldn't stand to have more on.
I tried to sleep but was unable to stop thinking about Patrick. I got thirsty sometime after midnight so I snuck into the kitchen and got a glass of water. I was sitting at the table when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. It was Patrick, still wearing only underwear.
He smiled as he approached, showing not a hint of embarrassment.
"Couldn't sleep either?" he said, grabbing a water and standing next to me.
The bulge in his underwear was now only about two feet away from me. I was aware that I'd not buttoned Patrick's shirt up very far and my cleavage was on full display. I felt my nipples begin to harden and I knew they'd start poking out of the shirt soon. Somehow, I didn't care.