The Ice Storm

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Ass

The wind was howling and the heavy drops of rain fell steadily. Although it was only ten am, the weather made it look more like dusk, ominous grey clouds blocking out the morning light. I looked out at my yard and wondered if everything would hold up—two of my maples and one of my elms were swaying fairly heavily. As pretty as large trees are, they can be hell during storms. Last year there’d been a terrible thunder storm that brought down branches on the property, but then I’d had help clearing them up. That was before my ex left, before he’d decided that there was a woman at his office that was more to his liking, before he decided that being with me was not in his future.

We’d been growing apart for awhile, so I suppose it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. I mean, when we first got together five years ago, we were a pretty good couple. We got along more than we fought and fucked more than we talked. After a few years, the fucking became less, the talking was almost non-existent, and it was more like we were roommates who’d occasionally fall into bed together, which was pretty sad considering I was only 29. My sexual appetite began to be fulfilled by toys, and that scared him away even more.

The house was mine—it was my grandmother’s and I’d inherited, he moved in easily and without much fanfare, and his moving out was about the same. It hurt, but I wasn’t devastated. It was times like these though, when I realized how alone I really was. The temperature was beginning to drop and I let the curtain fall back across the window, stepping back from the ice pellets that were now bouncing off the old panes. It would be nice to have someone toI didn’t have a big yard but I lived in an old neighbourhood where the majority of the houses were at least a century old and so were most of the trees.

Being near the centre of the city was nice, a short walk to a plethora of stores and it also meant I didn’t use my car very often. I walked everywhere and my car mostly sat in the carport around the side of my house. It was useful to have though, when I needed to get bigger items home or when I visited my parents who lived farther out in a suburb. I was just debating if visiting them might be a better idea than sitting here alone when a large crashing sound shook the house. I tried looking out the windows, but the storm had turned icy so they were crusty and coated, more opaque than translucent. Sighing, I hauled on a pair of boots and my heavy jacket, then cracked open the back door to look outside.

The wind lashed and pinpricks of ice stung me as I stepped away from the porch to investigate the damage. A very thick branch had fallen across the driveway blocking in my car and, from the looks of it, landing partly on the roof of the carport. I guess visiting them was no longer an option. Hopefully they’re fine, hunkered down in their bungalow. A few more loud cracking sounds chase me back inside. I really didn’t want the next branch to land on me.

I tried calling my parents just to check on them, but they didn’t have cell phones and their landline was either out or they were, since it kept ringing and ringing. I was kind of at a loss as to what to do. Ordinarily I’d be walking to the market, but the sidewalks were treacherous so that wasn’t an option. Instead, after I dried off a little, I decided to catch up on some work and fired up the computer. That lasted for all of another fifteen minutes or so when another crash coincided with the power cutting out. Hopefully it would only be a short outage, but my gut was telling me that, with the storm, there was going to be problems getting power restored.

Two hours into the power failure, I’d located all my candles and was huddled under a pile of blankets. My house was nice looking, but draughty—most of my windows were original, and I didn’t have a working fireplace. Even though my furnace was gas, it requires electricity to power the fans, so it wasn’t working either. If power wasn’t restored soon, I was going to be really cold. I already had my thermal socks and mittens on when there was a knock on my door.

Bracing myself for more cold air, I yanked open the door to a familiar figure. “Hi Mitch.” He was wearing his familiar lumberjack shirt—a red and black plaid woollen jacket type thing that a lot of guys wear between seasons—a Red Wings toque over his thick wavy dark hair, and a heavy pair of work boots. He’s the kind of neighbour that you don’t really know, but wave to while they mow their lawn. I signal for him to step in for a moment, moving aside for his large body, and close the storm door to conserve what little heat there is. “What’s up?”

“Hi Nicole, I was just checking to see if you were okay. You know, since the power’s out and your car can’t go anywhere.” He gestured to my stick strewn lawn which now resembled an obstacle course. “Do you have a fireplace?”

“I’m okay, just cold. I don’t have a fireplace, the insurance company made me cap it when I took over the house. The chimney wasn’t güvenilir bahis up to code or something.” This is now the longest conversation we’d ever had. He rubbed his thick hands together to warm them up, and I take note of the callouses and closely trimmed nails.

“Well, a friend of mine works the lines for the power company and he said that they’d be working to restore this all day, if not ’til tomorrow. A couple of trees fell on the transformers and fried half the city, let alone all the lines down all over the place.” There were bits of ice clinging to his trimmed goatee and moustache, and his nose was a bit red below his dark brown eyes.

“Oh, shit. I was going to go to my parents’ but…well, you saw my car and I’m not even sure they’re home.” Panic rose in me a little at the thought of being without heat for so long, but one of Mitch’s meaty hands moves to my arm, in a kindly gesture to help me calm down.

“I have a chainsaw, I can chop the branches up for you once the weather’s clear if I can have the wood.”

“Sure, that would be great,” I looked up and his reassuring smile lit up his face.

“Look, I have a gas stove and a fireplace. Would you like to come over until the power’s restored? I mean I don’t like the idea of you freezing alone over here.”

“That’s really nice of you, but I’d hate to impose,” truth be told, I really didn’t want to be alone, and Mitch’s offer sounded really inviting.

“Really, it’s fine, I don’t bite, I promise. Besides, it’s supposed to start snowing soon, that’s just going to make it colder.”

“Crap. I’d better go turn on my taps.”

“I’ll get the ones in the kitchen, if it will help.” Mitch removed his hand as we moved away, and I couldn’t help but miss the weight of it.

“Sure, thanks.”

I ran up the stairs to the bathroom and carefully turned the taps just a bit so that water started to drip. If they’re running, even a little, they’re less likely to freeze and burst in the cold. While I was upstairs, I grabbed a few more pieces of clothing and tossed them into a bag, along with some toiletries and a book. I realized that even though I didn’t know Mitch very well, I needed his help, and who was I to turn down such a generous offer.

Upon returning downstairs, I slid on my heavy boots and winter coat.

“Uh, do you have any food?” Mitch asked, sheepishly, “Today’s my shopping day, and I’m pretty much out.”

“Uh, yeah, I have some stuff, anyway.” He follows as I go back into my kitchen and together we look through the fridge and freezer. “I’ve got a roast. Would that be good?” It was supposed to be for my parents for tomorrow, but it’s not a big deal.

His eyes light up, “Yeah, that’d be fantastic.” His figure dwarfed mine and I can catch a hint of his spicy scent as we stand near to each other.

I tried to ignore the signals firing in me. It had been months since I’d had a man, and Mitch was certainly a man. “Great, well, I’ve got potatoes and carrots and stuff to go with it. Can you just pass me that bin?” I point to the grocery basket on the counter. “I usually shop today, too, but I always try to have some stuff around.” I didn’t mean it as a dig, but it might have come across that way.

“I’m not much of a cook, but I appreciate a good meal,” he told me with a warm smile. Good, not insulted.

“I think there’s even some bread,” I added.

“Sounds great. Honestly, I’ll eat pretty much anything.”

“Have you had lunch? Because this roast will take a few hours.”

“No.”

“No problem, pasta for lunch.” I grabbed a pack of linguine nests and pesto from the fridge.

“I really appreciate it.”

“No, I won’t be freezing to death, so thank you. A little food is the least I can do, although I’m not the greatest cook.” He took the basket up in one hand the basket and we headed out into the storm after I locked the front door.

Outside the world was a dazzling display of white crystals hanging from everything and the noise from the city was muted. And as beautiful as everything looked, it was exceedingly treacherous for walking. My porch steps were completely slick and the icy flagstone path wasn’t any better.

“Here,” Mitch extended his thick arm for me to grab.

“Let’s walk on the grass, it’s safer.” The ice pellets had stopped, but fat flakes of snow were now coming down. The wind was still assaulting us, blowing through my pants chilling me and the trees were still making ominous cracking noises.

We just made it to the edge of my yard and the start of Mitch’s when another crashing noise signalled a falling limb. This time my maple lost a huge piece that came down right on the roof of my porch, which was sagging dangerously under the additional weight.

“Oh crap.” I stop to survey the mess, dropping Mitch’s arm.

“Don’t worry, Nicole. You have insurance, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it will be fine. I could come out and chop that branch first, if you want, and get the extra weight off before it causes türkçe bahis any more problems.”

“No, that’s okay, it’s not safe.”

“Maybe tomorrow, then. Once the wind dies down it will be better.” He puts his large hand on the small of my back and urges me to the front door, “Best get inside before anything else comes down.” Although he doesn’t have quite as many trees, there are a few smaller ones on his lawn that could still lose some branches.

Where as my house is an old foursquare two storey, his is a cottage style one and a half storey. Inside, his ceilings are a bit lower than mine, and his windows smaller, so it should feel more cramped except it’s been completely renovated and the ground floor is open concept. The kitchen is divided from the living area by an island that has a built in range top, with the oven built into a wall near the fridge.

“Wow,” I said as I kicked off my boots onto the mat, “this is fantastic.”

“Thanks. It’s a bit of a showpiece. This is what I do, renovations, contracting, that sort of thing,” he said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s totally gorgeous. Did it take you long?” From what I can remember, he’s only lived here for a year or two.

“Awhile, but mostly I worked on it evenings and weekends. I did most of it myself, except for the additional support beams.” He pointed to the sturdy thick wooden beams and bracing around the room. “Would you like a tour?”

“That would be fantastic.” I sloughed off my coat and hung it on a hook by the door, right next to Mitch’s lumberjack shirt while he deposited the groceries on the counter. He was still wearing his toque, and it looked really cute, the pom-pommed hat on such a large figure. Mitch wasn’t trim, but he was definitely muscled. Tall, he seemed to fill the area behind the counter, as he he unloaded the food. I moved alongside him and took the linguine from the basket.

“We should start the water to boil, then you can show me around,” I suggested.

He nodded and reached around me to take a pot from a big drawer, enveloping me for a second or two with his movement, brushing lightly against my back. “Is this good?” he asked placing a pot in front of me.

I nodded, dumbly—it had felt so good when he touched me. Grasping the pot, I filled it with water, trying to steady myself. I was being ridiculous really, he was just being neighbourly, and I was just…lonely, I supposed.

Once the pot was going, Mitch lead me around the house. The floors were a dark hardwood set on the diagonal running the entire room, except in the kitchen area where there was a creamy coloured tile. The living area had a large rock fireplace against the wall with a large flatscreen tv on the mantle. Directly across was an oversized dark leather sofa and a sheepskin rug in front. Although the decor was very definitely masculine, it was was very classic and rustic. Mitch had a few lanterns set out on the barn-wood dining table behind the couch and he lit them so he could show me the rest of the house.

Leading me down to the basement, he took my hand in his and helped me down the narrow steep steps. Basements in old homes are generally not very nice, mine was essentially a mechanical room with very low ceilings and a breeding ground for spiders, but his was amazing.

“Did you dig out the basement?” The ceilings were at least seven feet high, which for basements in this neighbourhood was unheard of.

“Yep,” he said, still holding my hand, as he showed me his rec room. It was also tastefully decorated, with a pool table and bar area, as well as a wood stove, couch and another tv.

“This is really nice.”

“Thanks, but I really wanted to show you the bathroom.” He opened a door next to us and showed me the huge triangular tub, walk in shower, and gorgeous vanity.

“Wow, this is amazing.”

“If you want, you can have a shower later,” Mitch offered. “The one upstairs is pretty similar.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I raised my eyebrows at him suggestively, and he coloured. I felt like a bit of a fool—maybe I was misreading the situation, but I thought that maybe he was interested in me. “Uh, we should go check on the pot.”

“Sure,” Mitch lead me back to the stairs and kept his hand on my back as we ascended to the ground floor.

The water was very definitely boiling, so I handed off my lantern and went to tend to the food, while Mitch added a log to the fireplace. The linguine was fresh, so it only took a few minutes to prepare. I chopped a few cherry tomatoes and cut a few slices of crusty bread to go alongside. Mitch stood when I was ready and got us two plates and some cutlery.

“Would you like some wine?” he asked, looking at the glasses. Ordinarily I would turn it down, after all, it was lunch, but this was special circumstances—it’s not like I was going to be driving anywhere.

“Sure.” He smiled and pulled down two large wine glasses, then reached into another cupboard and took out a bottle of red.

“Is this okay?”

“Fine güvenilir bahis siteleri by me,” I said as I mixed in some pesto sauce with the drained pasta. He took the drinks to the breakfast bar and watched me prepare the plates.

I slid on across the counter and he handed me a glass of wine, our fingers brushing. I blushed as his touch sent tingles down my body. As much as there was a storm outside, something was brewing inside, too.

Lunch was great, conversation and wine flowed, loosing our tongues. We talked about previous relationships, our jobs, families, and politics. It was funny, he and I, even though we’d never spoken before, seemed to get along fairly well. He wasn’t the type of man I was usually attracted to, he was far bigger than anyone I’d been interested in before, but previously I seemed to attract jerks, so maybe a change of pace would be good. He seemed interested in what I had to say, too, leaning in when I was speaking, like he actually cared about what I was saying. His attention was flattering, and I was getting antsy in my stool to the point where I stood and started clearing the dishes.

“I should probably get the roast ready because it will take some time to cook.”

“Can I help you?”

“Sure.”

He and I stood side by side at the counter and whenever I needed something, he would accidentally touch me, brush by me, or nudge me, driving me crazy. Maybe it was the wine we’d had or maybe I was just really turned on, but when I was putting the roast into the oven, I made sure I bent so that my ass rubbed against his crotch. I was almost sure I heard him groan, but there was no mistaking the firmness that I could feel. Closing the oven, I turned to face him.

“Do you have the time?”

“Time for what?”

“I need to check on the roast in a few hours.”

“Oh,” he visibly coloured, then glanced at his watch, “it’s 1:30.”

“Great, lots of time then.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you can think of something you’d like to do.” I gave him a coy smile and moved a step closer.

He looked down at me, eyes hooded with lust as he planted his heavy hands on my hips. Licking his lips in a suggestive manner, he said, “Would you like to continue the tour?”

“What you want to show me?” My voice was husky with want.

He leaned his face in close, his facial hair tickling me, driving me crazy, “Want to see the master suite?”

“Lead the way.”

He took my hand then pressed me to go up the stairs first, hands cupping my ass as I ascended. I am not the most beautiful woman in the world by any stretch. My tits aren’t huge, and although I am not fat, I do have some curves. I have been told, however, that my ass is a nice feature, and Mitch seemed to appreciate it, too.

At the top of the stairs, instead of a hallway, the entire area had been converted to a master suite. A lighter, honey coloured, wood flooring was shined and the white walls and decor added to the light. There was a large ensuite bathroom to one side and a big wall to wall closet. The room had built in wardrobes, a white fireplace, another tv, and large kingsize bed with a thick white duvet. Again the decorating was fantastic.

“This is very nice, Mitch. You have great taste. A man with hidden talents,” I raised my eyebrow and bit at my lip. “I’d love to see what else you have hidden.” I took a step towards Mitch and ran my palm over his clothed package, obviously erect.

“God, Nicole, it’s been a long time,” Mitch groaned with want has he took me over to the bed.

I was breathing deeply, with want. “For me too, Mitch. I need your cock.” That was all he needed as encouragement, and he threw me down to the bed. Although his house was warmer due to the fireplace, it was cold on the blanket and I shivered against his body as he covered me, bracing himself with his elbows. His hard cock rubbed against the crotch of my pants, eliciting another shiver, but for a totally different reason. My body was taut with need.

Mitch brought his lips to my ear and started to nibble and kiss from my ear down my jawbone, tickling and driving me crazy, causing me to raise my hips and rub myself against him. I grasped his toque and pulled it off, tossing it aside while I fisted his hair in my hands and groaned with need.

I moved my hands down his broad shoulders to his back, then slipped them under his shirt. “I need to be naked, Mitch. I need you naked” I begged.

“Not so fast, Nicole. We have all night.”

I latched onto his neck and began to nibble and suck, hoping to tempt him further. It must have worked, because he rolled to his side and began pulling my shirt up. For someone with such thick fingers, he was quite adept, undoing the buttons on my top and releasing my bra with ease. I tossed my small pink bra to the side as he examined my chest.

I felt very self conscious, “I’m sorry they’re so small.” I have pert breasts with deep pink areolas topped by tight nubs for nipples. They might only be a b-cup, but they are incredibly sensitive.

“No,” he said softly, staring at my exposed breasts, “they’re so beautiful.” He took one of his fingers and trailed it across my nipple, sending sparks shooting down to my sopping pussy.

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