The Snowbound Couple - Part 2

"God, you've never looked so hot. Look at all that booze," I commented.

"I know what my baby likes," she joked as she clumsily splashed her way into the water, giving a yelp as the hot water contrasted sharply against the chill of winter. "Brett said his final goodbyes."

"Ooh, excellent. The third wheel left," I grinned, eyeing the way the cold air made her nipples press through her top.

She settled into the water with a pleasurable sigh, and eyed the snow coming down. It was falling hard now... near white out conditions. "I don't know, babe," she seemed apprehensive. "He probably shouldn't drive in this weather." She seemed to hesitate for a second, "Maybe we should have offered to let him stay."

"What? And spend the next week being cock-blocked? That literally sounds like hell," I laughed.

"It would just be for a few days," she pressed, more serious. "Just until they get the roads clear."

I watched the blizzard. "That might not be a quick thing. Too late now, I guess. He probably already left."

She had to agree with me on that, as she poured herself a glass and began to sip. I watched her for a minute, feeling the stirring in my shorts. There was something about knowing it was just us with no interruptions that welled up the excitement within me.

For some reason, I couldn't resist adding, "Besides... didn't you ever see movies like 'Dead Calm' or those cheesy late night skin flick thrillers? They always start with some happy couple getting stranded with a charming stranger who turns out to not be so charming."

"Is that so?" she arched her eyebrow and sank lower in the water, up to her chin. "And what usually happens in them?" As she asked it, I jumped a little as I felt her foot nudge against my crotch. My cock was already semi-hard, anticipating the week to come. But it responded quickly, growing erect from the rubbing of her foot. While I never worried about my cock size, I also knew I was nothing to brag about either. Regardless, I grew excited at the realization that way out here, this hot tub could be swim-suit optional.

I humored her teasing. "Well... now that I think about it, it's always the husband who has the worst time of it."

"Why's that?" she asked as she moved across the water toward me, until she plopped herself in my lap and began to straddle me. Her hands reached between my legs and felt for my bulge. She pushed my erection to the crotch of her bottoms and grinded her sex against me.

"I'd rather not say," I grunted, smirking coyly. My hands came to rest on her hips, my thumbs running along the creases of her upper thighs.

She bit her lip and leaned forward, nibbling on my ear lobe. Her breath was hot and lusty in my ear. Her wet breasts sliding up and down my chest as she rocked back and forth, teasing me. "Oh no. Why?" Her words were soft and sexual. "Does the wife fuck the bad man?"

I grunted. My cock was throbbing with excitement after the long drive. I needed release really bad. "Usually." I admitted. My hands slid around her back and began to fumble the ties of her top loose.

She reached behind her back and helped me loosen it, getting the same idea I was— that we were totally alone and nobody would see us. Her mouth and nose nuzzled my neck, her heavy breathing in my ear tickled me and drove me wild. As her top fell away into the water, she smirked. "Don't worry, baby. I'd never do that to you. Unless he was like... really really hot."

"Hey," I started to scold, but she suddenly leaned forward and planted her lips hard against mine. Her tongue pushed past my lips and into my mouth. I moaned, no longer offended as our tongues began to wrestle playfully in my mouth. Still... it was hard to shake the image of Brett checking out my wife. The weather wasn't letting up— one of those blizzards where the curtain of falling snow is so thick, the entire world seems muted. How easily that guy could have gotten stuck with us. Would he have tried to make a move on my wife?

"We should check out that video collection he left," she panted softly against my lips, still kissing me. "Maybe we can find a movie like that..."

She slipped her fingers into my swim suit and pushed it down until my cock sprang free. Her long fingers wrapped around my manhood and gave it a few eager strokes.

"If not, we can act out our own movie like that." I suggested, my hands going to her chest. We'd been too busy prepping for the trip over the last few days, and I was feeling it now, as she stroked me and my hands began to roam her perky breasts. The excitement alone of her grinding, half nude on my lap was edging me very closely to the brink.

She giggled, still smirking and trying to get a rise out of me. "But who would play the hot handsome stranger?"

I rolled my eyes, about to scold her for her smart ass comment, when I spotted movement over her shoulder. It felt like a poorly timed joke at my expense, because behind Alex, Brett was standing in the glass doorway, looking out at us. He was covered in snow and looking tired, apologetic, and sweaty all at once.

"Brett?" I asked out loud, caught off guard.

Alex apparently hadn't seen him, and thought I was still playing along with her sexual teasing. "Ooh, Sean, you're so bad," Alex cooed, and her hips bucked against my stiff member. "Maybe we shouldn't have sent him away—"

The sudden sound of the door opening and a throat clearing stopped her in mid hump. She sucked in a breath, an expression crossed her face like she just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She turned and spun off of my lap and into an adjacent seat.

Brett looked at the water as her bikini top went floating by in front of us. I flushed bright red with embarrassment and annoyance. My wife's hands shot up to her chest to cover them. She wasn't quick enough, judging from the stranger's eyes and his expression, he caught a good glimpse of her tits glistening wet and standing proud and perky.

"Heyyyyy, Brett," Alex drawled out, her cheeks turning a guilty shade of red. "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah... sorry to interrupt," he said, but the amused smirk told us both that he wasn't really that sorry. "My car isn't exactly able to get down the driveway."

"It's that bad?" I asked, cautiously doubtful, praying for some sort of brief respite in the weather that would allow him to make it out of here.

"Afraid so. I can't even tell where the road is. I had a hunch bringing my sports car up here was a bad idea." Brett laughed a little. I could feel myself shaking with frustration. Really? We planned ahead, why couldn't this jackass? Now our whole trip is ruined, because of one idiot not keeping an eye on the weather.

"I'll try to call someone, as soon as the storm lets up enough to give me some reception," Brett explained.

"It's not going to let up any time soon," I sighed.

"And by the time someone gets out here," Alex piled on, "there'll be another foot or two on the ground."

"I'm really sorry guys," Brett said again.

"It's fine, Brett," Alex said. I'm not sure what annoyed me more— him interloping on our vacation, or my wife not being annoyed by it. I instantly felt bad for those thoughts, knowing I was being selfish. "Our sex life can withstand a few interruptions," Alex quipped, and kept one arm draped across her breasts, while she snatched her top with her other arm. I noticed she didn't sink below the bubbles before doing that. Did she deliberately flash him? He certainly seemed to notice. A moment later, she slouched in the water, up to her nose as she reattached her bikini top. It must have been from the liquor, that's all.

"I'm gonna bring some of my stuff back inside. I'll ride the couch tonight. I'll try to stay out of the way as much as possible," he hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it," Alex replied. "No sense in sliding off the mountain. Go rally and we'll all get drunk after we get out," she said.

"Oh my god, no more," he groaned with a laugh.

"Hair of the dog!" She insisted.

Brett turned and went back inside. The moment he was out of earshot, I leaned back, putting my palms to my face dramatically. "Damn damn damn," I moaned in sexual frustration.

"What are you worried about?" Alex turned to me.

"I was just hoping the guy was gone and we could enjoy some alone time. If I wanted people bothering us, I would have stayed home and hung out with our friends and family."

"Okay, well go ahead and tell him to leave then," Alex dared me. "I'm sure he'll go. Just tell him that you getting laid is more important than his safety."

I sighed, knowing my erection was gone, and so was the moment. "It's fine. Whatever."

After a minute, the door slid open again. Brett had shed his jacket. His t-shirt beneath was wet with snow and sweat— probably from his cleaning efforts. It clung to his muscular torso. There wasn't a hint of a gut on him. "It's me again," he smirked. "Umm... I was planning on showering when I got home, but since that's not going to happen now, is it cool if I do that here?" He asked.

Alex barked a laugh. "Why are you asking us? You were here before we were. Help yourself," she shooed him away. "If you want, you're welcome to jump in and join us."

"Only if you're skinny dipping again," he winked, despite my being there. I knew it was just a joke, but the fact that he would do that right in front of me... like I wasn't there... it struck an odd chord with me.

"Give me a couple more glasses of wine, and we'll see," she said playfully sipping her glass. Again, Alex with her bold confidence and no filter. But it felt like she was flirting with him.

"Terrific. Now I have something to think about in the shower," he laughed and headed back inside.

I let that comment roll off my back, as I've said equally pervy things in my life. Banter is banter, right? I turned back to my wife. "At least he's trying to stay out of the way," I said.

"Right," she returned to sipping her wine, throwing back the last of it. She scooted closer to me. Her other hand dropped back to my lap. When she felt that I'd slipped my shorts back on, after the interruption, she asked "So are we done, or did you want to continue?"

I glanced at the door again, feeling her fingers tickling over my crotch. I was a bit caught off guard with the interruption. I half expected the guy to appear again and ruin my good time. "Maybe later," I said. "I'm going to need another drink and to regroup."

We tried to crack open the beers when we realized the bottles weren't twist-off.

"Shit," Alex swore, ever the lady.

"Didn't bring a bottle opener?" I asked, lounging back, resting my head as the jet dug into the meat of my back.

"There's one on my keychain," She said, mustering up the courage to hop out of the tub and brave the chilly winter air. Admittedly, I was too focused on the way her bottoms hugged her ass to suggest there might be one in the kitchen...

She yelped from the cold and dashed across the deck and into the house, hardly mindful of the water that sloshed around. Her keys were on the bed.

The adrenaline from the cold that jumpstarted her beating heart completely made her lose focus, because as she found her way into the bedroom, she forgot about our third wheel, until she spun and spotted him in the shower.

Brett's back was to Alex. The glass partition wall slowly steaming up. She had a glimpse of his sculpted ass. She knew it was wrong to linger and spy, but curiosity got the best of her. He was hot and fit and definitely something to look at. His arms bulged with packed muscle, and as he turned to rinse, she caught sight of something else. Brett was hung like damn fire hose. His manhood long and muscular, like the rest of his body.

Alex's eyes popped at the sight of it. She damn near dropped her keys, but somehow managed not to. She supposed it made sense... Brett was a tall man. Why shouldn't he be hung? Her eyes lingered for a second longer, her legs shaking and her heart pounding.

Then her senses brought her back to reality and she hurried from the room, the sight of his naked body still lingering in the back of her head. She was so distracted, that she almost ran head first into me as I was standing in the living room toweling off. "Everything alright, babe?"

She looked out of sorts— wide-eyed and guilty. Like the cat that caught the canary.

"Huh? Y-yeah, fine," She said, then shifted her attitude. "What are you doing out?" She asked, almost like she was interrogating me.

"I was getting a bit drunk and sort of sleepy." I admitted. I nodded to the bedroom door. "Whenever 'Stretch' finishes up, do you want to join me for a nap?"

She looked apprehensively at the door to the bedroom, like she was hiding a secret. In a way, she was— the fact that Brett's reproductive organ was a real monster, and she had seen it.

We didn't have to wait long before he stepped out in a towel, his torso wet. I made an effort not to notice, lest it pluck at my own personal insecurities. The guy had a six pack and strong solid pecks. I could also sense my wife looking too, though she was trying not to. It didn't bother me then, but it should have.

We mentioned that we were settling down for a quick nap while the snow fell. "Sure... a 'nap'." He winked and made air quotes. He told us he would be in the living room getting dressed.

Alex followed me in, but she glanced back at Brett one last time, without me knowing— hoping to get a follow up glimpse of his body. To her surprise, he was staring right at her, admiring her wet figure in her bikini. When she saw his lingering eyes, he offered her an unabashed smile.

In the bedroom, I was shedding my wet bathing suit, and reaching for my boxers. Now, I'm normally an average guy in the pants area, but the frigid air on a wet bathing suit worked its evil magic on me, leaving me shriveled and unimpressive. Though my wife had seen me countless times on even my best days, it was probably the worst timing for her to get a glimpse of me, after having something much more impressive to compare me to.

I collapsed face-down on the bed with a pleasurable sigh. I was able to overcome my annoyance with Brett hanging around, and I finally relaxed— enjoying the full benefits of a cozy getaway vacation. Beside me, Alex was changing out of her wet suit into a pair of very short gym shorts, and a t-shirt emblazoned with the logo of her social sports league. Last season had been softball. I didn't realize it, but she hadn't shut the bedroom door all the way. Maybe it was her own personal clumsiness... or something more. And as she changed beside the bed, her eyes were repeatedly drawn to the living room beyond, like she expected this mystery man to be there... watching her.

Unfortunately for me, I'm one of those guys who can fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow. I don't know if it was the relaxed atmosphere, the long drive, the liquor, the hot tub, or a deadly combination of them all... but I was literally asleep before my wife even climbed into bed with me.

Alex lay with her eyes on the ceiling, and her thoughts wandering. Maybe it was the place, being so far removed from our home, the interrupted sex with no satisfaction, or having someone else in the house who she found very attractive.

She glanced at me, out cold, and felt a small guilty rush go through her. She bit her lip, her hand going to her neck, trailing a couple fingers lightly down her chest, between her breasts. She rubbed her thighs together. Alex has never been a stranger to pleasuring herself. Often she prefers it, even during sex with me, using her fingers to bring herself to orgasm better than I'm able to with my cock.

Her nipples hardened, straining the thin t-shirt. Her imagination immediately raced back to the sight of Brett in the shower. She lay beside me, growing wet, fantasizing about another man. Another man who'd been checking her out. How easy it might have been for him to turn around while he was in the shower and see her. What might have happened?

Her fingers moved down her tummy, then between her legs. She softly sighed as her hand glanced over her pussy. She was extra sensitive, having been much more worked up than she initially thought. Turning her head, she glanced at the crack in the door. A part of her brain, hoping to get a glimpse of Brett changing... a chance to see that cock again. He wasn't there, and she felt a brief disappointment. Her heart pounded.

Her fingers trembled as she shut her eyes. Then in a moment of impulse, she hooked her thumbs through her waistband and pushed her little shorts down to her thighs. Her fingers traced over her bare pussy, sliding between her pink lips. She was soaked!

The touch alone was like electricity. She sucked in a hot breath, and thought about Brett's cock, swinging between his thighs like a pendulum. How big could he get when that cock got hard?

Her free hand wandered up to her breasts. She arched her back as she slid her shirt up her torso. Her nipples as hard as pebbles. She gave one a gentle twist and a small gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered and she glanced over at me. I was apparently out cold, not stirring at all.

She bit her lip and moaned a little louder. Was she doing that on purpose? Was she hoping Brett might get curious, risk a peek through the door, and come away with an eyeful of her body, nude and writhing in the ecstasy of her self pleasure?

Lurid thoughts filled her head. Alone in a snowed-in cabin with a hunky complete stranger... an enormous cock... a mutual attraction. Her fingers danced in fast circles over her clit. Her breathing fast and excited. Her feet slid back and forth across the sheets.

She was getting close... the thrill of quietly masturbating with her sleeping husband beside her, and a complete stranger within earshot was growing too much for her. Alex turned her head, and startled when she saw Brett. He was standing in the living room, watching her through the crack in the doorway. Her heart sped up, but she couldn't bring her fingers to stop. They moved faster. Brett made no move to step away, even as their eyes locked and they knew they were both caught.

Her hand came away from her tits, and she slid her finger into her mouth, sucking softly on it, as her other hand was a blur between her legs. Brett was fully clothed, his hands at his sides. He made no move, only watching, smiling casually, like this is just the sort of thing he sees every day.

Alex always enjoyed when I would watch her masturbate— often sending her into orgasm within minutes. This was far more erotic. This wasn't her husband watching her now. This was a total stranger. And her husband was beside her, so close, but so totally oblivious.

Brett held his ground. He made no move to come closer, to step into the bedroom and take her. He didn't even touch his cock. It was like a weird unspoken agreement was passing between the two of them.

Suddenly she knew it was going to happen. Her whole body began to shudder, and she had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Her fingers spun like crazy around her clit. Her lungs gasping for breath. Her toes curled tightly, gripping the sheets as one of the most powerful orgasms of her life raced through her.

The entire time, her eyes remained on Brett as he watched her. She knew that if he came into the room right then, husband or no husband, she'd let him do whatever he wanted with her. Yet he doesn't move.

"Mmmmmmmffff," Alex whimpered against her hand, muffling herself as her orgasm seemed to go on and on, her greedy fingers still dancing over her sensitive pussy, trying to make it last forever.

Wetness ran down her fingers, as her orgasm finally ended, leaving her gasping for breath and shaking. She shook her head softly on the pillow, sighing with pleasure, and when she glanced back to the door, Brett was gone.

 

Part 3