Ski Bunny

... By Hathor

"'Cmon," he said impatiently. "This isn't the first time I've been skiing for Christ's sake." He was getting impatient with me, but it was MY first time skiing with him, and I wanted to commemorate the event.

"Just a couple more, please," I begged.

"You're gonna owe me," he said. Oh goodie. I loved it when I owed him. He smiled an indulgent smile, and well, you see how the picture came out.

We queued up for the chairlift - my least favorite part of the whole skiing experience, by the way - and waited. And waited. And waited. All around us, people were starting to get pissed off. They were muttering and casting sidelong looks at the lift operator. Not good. Finally, someone asked out loud, and none too nicely, "What the fuck?" to which the chairlift operator, I think his name was Sam, said, "No clue, dude. Lift just isn't working." Great. Like it took a brain surgeon to figure that out?

"So," Jon said to me. "What do you think we should do now?" He was leering at me, and I know what he wanted the answer to be. I knew what I wanted the answer to be.

"Let's go back to the condo and warm up," I suggested. "We can come back out later." Or not, as would probably be the case.

So, we got out of line and trudged back to the condo. Fortunately, we were slope side, so we didn't have too far to trek. We kicked the snow from our boots and stepped into the foyer, shutting the door behind us. Once we kicked off our boots, and divested ourselves of hats, scarves, and mittens, Jon locked the door with an incredibly loud click. I spun around to look at him.

"So, Bunny," he said, using that nickname I hated, "remember that you owe me for the pictures."

"I think calling me by that horrible nickname is payment enough!" I retorted. 'Liz' I liked. I'd even tolerate 'Beth'. But Bunny? No thank you. It's Elizabeth, if you please.

Jon chuckled at me. "Not by a long shot. C'mere." He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. With all the layers we had on, it was roughly as romantic as hugging the Michelin Man. I started to snicker. "What's so damned funny?" he asked.

"Are you in here somewhere?" I asked, poking and grabbing through the ski pants he was wearing. Soon, we were both laughing hysterically.

"I'm in here, Liz," he said.

"Not for long," I said, as I struggled with the zippers and catches on his parka.

Finally, his layers were starting to come off. Damn, he must have a whole suitcase of clothes on his back. Poor baby doesn't like the cold. Oh well. I can warm him up! He helped me off with my ski gear, and we were able to come together - finally! - in a real embrace. Yup, he was in there all right. In there and anxious to come out! He kissed me senseless, and led me to the bathroom.

We started to fill the whirlpool tub and set about stripping each other as quickly as we could. We got in each other's way and were kissing and laughing and just being silly. We got into the tub before it finished filling and I sunk onto him right away, groaning. No matter how many times we've done this, that first contact - the first joining of our bodies - is pure heaven. I fused my mouth to his, and rode him hard, and all thoughts of anything but the friction and slickness and pulsing and pumping were gone.

Jon broke the kiss to moan my name and to attack one sensitive breast. I let out a squeal and he tightened his hands on my waist keeping me from moving away when the sensation became too much for me. I threaded my hands in his hair and just held on. We came together with a scream, as we often do, and I slumped against him, totally spent. He kissed me gently, softly murmuring words of love in my ear.

When we finally came back down, I noticed the mess in the bathroom. There was water everywhere.

"What are we going to do about all this water?" I complained.

"Well, you DO owe me..."