Marooned in the Snow

It was one day in early January, when the north wind blew strongly, and you just knew there was snow on the way. I was away from home on business in London, and was looking forward to being back at home. Hotels are all very well, but the comforts of home are hard to beat. I’d been single for about three years, after my wife, Rowena, and I had divorced after 15 years together. It had been amicable, and as she was a successful career woman herself; we parted on equal terms. We had had no children, not from choice but it just hadn’t happened for us. Both of us were comfortable with our new status, especially since Rowena had recently moved in with a partner in the same law firm. I no longer felt any responsibility for her, something that had always been there despite the divorce. It was, I suppose, the legacy of 15 years together. Newcastle, where I now lived, is a city that is always lively, and I seldom lacked for entertainment and companionship. So life was good. I’d just finished my last meeting when the first snowflakes started to fall, and by the time I had passed Watford Gap Services, the going was getting harder. I phoned ahead to see what it was like where I lived, just north of Newcastle, and it seemed as though it was OK, so I decided to press on. By now the volume of traffic had reduced greatly, but only a couple of lanes were usable, and the driving snow in the headlights started to get mesmerising. By about 9pm, I decided that I had had enough, and another phone call to a friend at home told me that the snow there was getting bad, so I headed off the motorway, just north of Nottingham and started to look for a hotel. Bad news! Every one that I came to was full, obviously others had given up before I had, and with the roads getting worse, it was starting to be a real struggle. I didn’t fancy a night in the car, so when I got to Ripley, I was getting desperate. I’d given up on hotels by then and started to call in at each pub I got to. Finally I found one, the White Hart, and the barman said there was just one room left. Dumping my bags in the room, Escort Küçükyalı I headed down to the bar, where a roaring fire crackled, the delightful smell of wood smoke adding to the sense of comfort. I ordered some food and a drink and settled down in a corner of the snug. There weren’t many other people around, and they soon left to battle the elements on their way to their homes. I’d chatted to the barman, and he said there were only two rooms in the pub, the other had been taken by an elderly couple much earlier in the evening. He seemed to be hanging around, so I asked him why he hadn’t gone yet himself, or did he live in. He lived about a mile away, but was waiting for the landlady to get back so he could hand over and go. She must have been delayed by the snow, and we chatted for the next half hour or so. From his description, I had the image of a real hard taskmaster of a landlady, with stout legs and strong arms from handling kegs of beer. Then the door opened in a flurry of snowflakes, and a woman clad in a thick coat, a furry hat, and wellington boots burst into the room. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and she almost ran to the fire, throwing on a couple more logs. After a few minutes, she looked around and saw Jim the barman patiently waiting, and said that she was OK now, he could go, but to take care as it was drifting quite heavily. Jim put his coat, hat and boot son and said his goodbyes, to his boss, and then to me, and was out the door. The woman turned round in surprise, and saw me in the corner. “Oh,” she said, “I didn’t know there was anyone else here! Are you staying?”I told her that I was, and that I had pulled off the motorway as it was getting too dangerous to continue. She agreed, saying it was no night to be out at all. I just had this impression of a middle aged woman, about my own age or a bit older I thought. It wasn’t until she started to take off her hat and coat that I realised she was actually a good bit younger, wearing a low cut dress which showed off a lovely pair of breasts, Kartal escort full and rounded, above a slim waist. She then told me that she had been out to dinner with someone she had met on the internet, that it had been their first date, but that it was, without doubt, going to be their last one too. He hadn’t even offered to see her home, more concerned about whether he would get back, so she had had to struggle back against the wind and snow. No wonder her cheeks had been red when she got in. We talked for a while, and together with the bottle of wine she opened, I found her company just the tonic I needed. Paula, as she was called, had had an interesting life, married young, divorced, married again, and divorced again. I said that this seemed like bad planning, but she laughed it off, saying she just chose the wrong sort. I asked what the right sort were, and she told me that she didn’t know, she hadn’t found one yet! Just as she said this, all the lights went out. There was no light at all, even the street lights were out, and from the window of the snug, all the houses that we could have expected to see were just black as well. It must be a power cut, she said. The snow had to have brought down some overhead lines somewhere. “Damn,” she said,” I have only one butane heater as well. Do you know who the other guests are?”“Jim said they were an elderly couple, but I haven’t seen them,” I replied. “I’d better go and check,” she said, and groped her way to the bar where she found a candle. Lighting her way, she vanished up the stairs, leaving me in the dark to wonder what I had got myself into, a night without heating or light somehow didn’t seem as attractive as it had just an hour ago. I heard bumps and bangs from upstairs, and after a while Paula emerged, the flickering light of the candle creating shadows as she emerged from the staircase. “They were woken by the lights going out,” she said, ”so I let them have the heater, it will give some heat and light.”“How old are they?” I asked.“About 75, and a bit shaken, from Suadiye escort bayan what I could see,” was her reply. “Well,” I said, “I’d better think about getting to bed myself. Do you have another candle?” “I’m not sure, let me look,” she said. Five minutes later she re-appeared to say that there was only this one candle, so she would show me up to my room and make sure I was settled before she herself went to her room. Upstairs, I pulled the curtains, and felt the radiator, which was rapidly cooling. She found another quilt in a store cupboard and brought it in, saying that she hoped it would keep me warm. “What about you?” I asked. “Have you enough extra bedding for yourself?” “Oh I’ll be OK,” she said, “and anyway, if I get cold I’ll come visiting,” and with a laugh she was off, taking the candle with her. I undressed in the dark room, and got into the bed. It was cold but very comfortable, and with the second quilt I got myself warm, and was just starting to doze off when I heard a knock at the door, and Paula came in before I could reply. “It is very cold,” she said. “May I join you, please? Just to share the warmth.” Given the circumstances, I could do no less than accept, and nodded. Quickly she slid into bed, and placing the candle on the bedside table on her side, she turned her back on me, and said she would put blow the light out in just a minute. There was just enough light to see that she was wearing a strappy nightdress, and I could not ignore that it was low cut at the back, plunging down and revealing a lovely back. It might have been cold, but my reactions were perfectly normal, and I could feel myself starting to harden by the second. Turning over, I lay on my back, and watched the light flickering on the ceiling. My tumescent state was not helped by her next action, which also was to turn over, as she snuggled into my side, and slid her hand and arm across my chest, her head snuggled into my shoulder. “Mmm….that feels good,” she whispered. “Err……yes, it does,” I was forced to admit. “Hold me, please….” she asked, and I turned towards her wrapping her in my arms and pulling her close against me. I could feel her nipples already hard through the thin satin of her nightdress, and I have no doubt that she felt my erection press against her, as her lips sought mine, and her hand moved down to wrap itself around my rigid member.