Mandy Ritter looked out from the ski lodge balcony, as her friend Rita Starling pointed over snowy hills to where the sun cast midday rays on the distant mountains, bestowing an almost ethereal glow.

Nothing ethereal about the way Mandy was feeling on their ‘Fantastic break’ in a beautiful location in the French Alps, where, Rita promised, they would each have two main goals. But already it looked like being a disaster.

Rita’s goals would be skiing and sex, as she was well experienced in both.

Mandy’s initial goal was to learn to ski, and, after her first session as a learner that morning, her bruised buttocks had threatened any further attempts.

Mandy preferred holidays in the hot sun. Snow and ice held little appeal. The lodge itself was cosy, with rooms on the ground floor and the first floor, surrounded by the balcony where they now stood. Mandy was intrigued by an unusual glass structure on the roof.

Contrasting with the hard, flattened snow at the busy front of the lodge, their view now was so different. Grinning, Rita asked, “Now what is the connection between you and what you see?”

Frowning, Mandy viewed wave upon wave of untrammelled snow. Sure she’d guessed Rita’s riddle, she flattened her puffer jacket against her 36-inch bosom and, laughing, said, “Curvaceous, like me.”

Rita joined in, shook her head, and said, “Yes, you are beautifully curvy, but what about the snow itself?”

Frowning, Mandy gazed once more over hillocks of pure whiteness but could not make any connection, and she told Rita.

Rita chuckled, “Snow, Mandy. Virgin snow. Virgin, unsullied. Just like you.”

“Oh, hell, Rita. You aren’t going to keep on about that, are you?”

Rita shrugged, “Isn’t it one of the reasons you’re here?”

Skiing and losing her virginity, they were the goals that Rita had urged her to pursue. With goal number one already unpopular, the prospects for goal number two already looked highly unlikely. Arriving on the previous evening, Mandy had immediately noticed the youthfulness of the other guests.

Having rejected most of this age at university she was unlikely to give in to some gawky apprentice Casanova.

Analysing how, aged twenty-four, she was still a virgin, Mandy found the reasons seemingly trivial. No real doubt about the lasting influence of her late stiffly religious mother, but from the age of fourteen her shrill warnings still resounded in Mandy’s ears.

“You should remain a virgin until you marry. Giving yourself is never that pleasant, but it’s expected of down-trodden womankind.”

So archaically asexual was her mother, Mandy wondered how she had ever been conceived at all.

Into University, her reticence remained. Boys were highly attracted to her, and kissing was pleasant, but the occasional stimulation, only brought back her mother’s warnings. A post-university move into the world of textiles and fashion enabled her to keep mainly female company.

Dating was brief and mostly her own poor choices. Pathetic, unexciting fumbling of the men she'd encountered had Mandy sometimes believing that sex wasn't for her.

While committed to building up her fashion business, she gave little thought to any attachment. But, as things settled, her libido didn’t. That millstone weighed heavily, especially when, in female company, talk turned bawdy,

“Best orgasm ever?”

Mandy’s own fingers knew how to achieve that. How could she ever admit her lack of experience? When Mandy finally told her friend, Rita was shocked.

Horse riding and cycling had ensured there would be no breakthrough necessary. “You haven’t had the joy of a man’s shaft? God, I can’t imagine doing without it.”

Eager Rita had been full of advice and suggestions. This snowy holiday was the first choice. “Skiing and sexual submission. What a pairing.”

Rita ensured Mandy started taking the pill before they left. “Always stay safe.” And she added, "Anyway, the first time is best with a stranger."

When Mandy queried that, Rita replied, “If it turned messy you've got no comebacks to worry about. Just choose carefully."

Somehow, Mandy was reluctant about that idea. Choosing carefully, to her mind had an air of permanence about it.

That evening, she and Rita sat, sipping wine, in the bar next to a crowded noisy dance area full of youthful chanting and laughing. Happy atmosphere, music playing, couples dancing sensuously. All too shrill and just a little juvenile for Mandy.

When a boyish faced young man asked her to dance, Rita leapt eagerly to her feet, hissing, “Can you boogie?”

After a long while Rita, red-faced and wide-eyed, returned, wearing a different dress. Rita flopped alongside Mandy gasping, “Phew, talk about a quickie. Too fast on the trigger. I’m still wound up.”

Not much time later, Mandy made an early excuse and retired. Rita elected to stay, “See if I can get unwound.”

Mandy slept so well that she didn’t hear Rita come in.

Gleefully, Rita recounted her encounter with a well-hung young man, who wanted to meet again that evening. “His name is Pete,” Rita told her, before giggling, “Pete the Prong.”

Breakfasted, they were out onto the slopes before ten. Rita briefly encouraged Mandy’s progress, before hurrying off to the ski-lift. Mandy felt she was becoming more confident. Too confident.

Nearing the bottom of the slope, she stupidly tried a sideways movement and ended up on her rear with the skis safely snapped away.

Cursing, she sat there, her hood having slipped off allowing her tawny hair to drift across her face. Skis skidding to a halt alongside her startled her. Mandy looked up at a tall figure, sinister in black, standing over her. From the build under the mound of clothing and behind the wide goggles she guessed it was a man. That was confirmed by a deep resonant voice asking, “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride.”

He chuckled, “There is no pride when you’re learning.” And he pulled off a gauntlet and held out a broad hand, ”Up you come.” He gripped her gloved hand and hauled her easily to her feet.

“No gain without pain,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice confirmed his maturity.

How had she not noticed him earlier? Without waiting for any thanks, he was away down to the foot of the slope. Mandy sighed. If only!

That evening, she and Rita, sat nearer the bar, so that, Rita confessed, Peter the Prong might find her easily.

Mandy had taken just two sips when a tall dark-haired man in neat open-necked blue shirt and tight dark pants approached the bar. Standing sideways on to where they were sitting, he ordered a whiskey and ginger.

That unmistakable deep voice was enough to set Mandy’s heart pounding. Her helper from the slopes was close and, God, so ruggedly handsome. She’d told Rita of the incident. Now, Mandy pointed, “That’s him.”

"Never!" Rita gasped, “That’s a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know who that is? From our neck of the woods? That's Brad Ballin, his father owns the huge paper factory riverside.”

“Didn’t you say do it with a stranger?” Mandy had already decided

Rita frowned, "Beware. Womanising reputation. Could have any girl he fancies."

When a fair-haired young man approached their table, Rita was instantly on her feet, “Oh, hello, Peter,” she purred, and with a lecherous grin back she was led away.

Decision time. Sit, or make a move? Was there any doubt? Surrender beckoned. Hesitation banished, she strolled to the bar, and with uncharacteristic boldness, her shoulder gently nudged against his arm. Then, she ordered a Bacardi and coke.

He half-turned, and his blue eyes seemed to caress over her. In her snugly fitting dress, she was confident, of some appreciation. His smile was so warm and charming, Mandy was immediately trembling. “Your buttocks recovered?” he asked, before adding, "May I buy that drink for you?"

Having exchanged names, they were soon chatting freely. His eyes widened on hearing where she came from. Even wider when she told him of her business.

“Are you here alone?” she asked, beginning to feel at ease.

“Unfortunately, yes. I love skiing, but I still have duties to perform for the business.” He nodded to the rowdy dance floor, “You’re avoiding that?”

“Not my scene.”

“Mine neither.”

“Why choose this place, then?”

“I was misinformed.” And the look in his eyes as they held hers, flared all her nerve ends.

But her heart sank when he said, in genuinely apologetic tones, “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I have a load of business emails that I must get off tonight.”

Mandy's disappointment must have shown on her face, for he went on quickly, “If you’re free tomorrow, would you join me on a sleigh ride into the lower hills. A service that can be phoned up. Driver, blanket and all.” He laughed, “And, of course, a horse.”

Mandy was almost breathless as she accepted. Standing up, he gently touched her shoulder, saying, “One thirty in the foyer. Wrap up warm.”

She hardly slept that night, barely listened to Rita’s hot account of giving Pete the Prong a blowjob. All she could think about was Brad Ballin, so deliciously handsome. God, yes, she could give herself to him.

Her ski practice was fall-free. The day would be perfect. Promptly at 1.30 pm she was in the foyer, well covered in thermal undies, thick trousers, woollen jumper, with cosy puffer jacket and a multicoloured wool hat.

Brad, gorgeous in dark red anorak and black pants with no hat. Came through the front door. He directed her to a waiting sleigh. Soon they were seated behind the driver, a blanket covering their legs, as they headed up a gradual slope.

“Hell, of a view from up here,“ Brad said, leaning across her to adjust the blanket, and as he drew back his eyes held hers as he added, “Hell of a view onboard if you’ll excuse that.”

Mandy, well heated, grabbed this chance to mutter, “Is that your lady ice-breaker?” And she told him about what Rita had said about his reputation, ready to admit she didn’t mind, but to her surprise, he laughed.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Just narrowly in the public eye, but dance with, or even just laugh with, an attractive lady, and there’ll be a photographer there to stir up gossip.”

“So, you’re not married?” Mandy found it difficult to look away from that face.

He sighed, but that turned into a smile, as he shook his head.

“Seriously, how many affairs do you think I might have had?”

“I couldn’t guess.”

“Only three.” And this time he did laugh, as he took in the dubious look on Mandy’s face.

Just then the driver checked the horse and pointed between a wide gap in the pines. Mandy saw the deep wide, white valley with a river winding through it. All snow and pines.

“Snow melt and river is torrent,“ the driver told them

“Beautiful sight, “ Brad said, leaning closer over her shoulder. He wanted her, she knew, and her moistness was announcing her own readiness.

The driver turned the sleigh around, and Mandy was disappointed that the journey was going to be short. Maybe she should push things along.

“Only three, you say.”

Brad’s look was open, “One was an on-off affair over a few years. The others were five months and eight months. All three dumped me.”

Mandy could not hide her surprise, “They all tired of my involvement with charity work for my father. Very time-consuming.”

The horse’s hooves rhythmically crunched the snow, as Mandy pondered what she’d been told. The sky had darkened, and a few gentle flakes of snow fluttered down. “Heavy coming,” the driver called back. “We make it in time.”

“Glad you came?” Brad asked.

“Very.”

“I’m glad you did too,” he told her and the open honesty in his gaze emphasised the need for her to reveal her intention.

“I can’t match your score in the affair stakes,” she said, just slightly nervous in the telling.

“Less than three? A major loss to men.” God, he was good, and those eyes!

Cut it short. Mandy, ”Less than one.”

His eyes were wider, “Only one-nighters?”

Mandy shook her head, “Not even that.”

She saw his brow furrow, before he said, “Major loss to all men.” He paused as the full implication struck, “You mean, you’re still a—”

Mandy held up her hand, “Please, don’t say that word.” Stumbling on, she told him of Rita’s reason for bringing her here. “But when I saw the near adolescent level of the guests here. I just gave up the idea.”

“But you’re here, with me.” That voice, so deep.

Trying not to sound over-eager she almost whispered, “Yes, I am.”

His smile was a delight, and it was followed by a chuckle as he asked, “Does this mean, I’m the pick of a bad bunch.”

They looked at each other silently, and as she admitted, “Yes. It does.” They burst out laughing and Brad reached under the blanket to find her hand, squeezed it, before leaning forward and kissing her chastely on the cheek.

“Mandy,” he said, in those deep tones that had first thrilled her, “I will be honoured to act in any way you choose.”

The sleigh had reached the top of the bank and they could look down on the lodge, looking like a Christmas card in the still lightly falling snow. ”Only my apartment is unlit.” Brad commented.

Mandy saw that the only unlit part was the glass structure on top. “Is that-?”

“My apartment,” he affirmed. “Like to see it?”

Would she? Could there be any doubt?

Brad squeezed her hand, as he added, “No obligations.”

Before leaving the sleigh, Mandy told him she would need to get out of her winter gear, and Brad, after telling her how to find the door to his apartment, said, “I’ll leave it unlocked. Just mount the stairs.”

Mandy felt she showered, perfumed and dressed in indecent haste. Deliberately she omitted wearing a bra, just to advertise her availability. And, knowing the central warmth of the lodge was ideal, she wore a button-up dress, more suited to summer.

Having found the door easily, she experienced a strange mix of emotions as she mounted the lushly carpeted stairs. She was nervous, yet excited, both sensuous and worried. Brad in a white shirt and navy pants met her at the top of the stairs, and his look and smile dispelled all nervousness and worry.

She would be his. No doubts as he leaned in muttered, “Welcome,” and kissed her gently on the lips, before reaching to produce a glass of white wine in each hand. As she took the glass she said, “I don’t really need this.”

A half-smile and then, “Hell, I do. I’m nervous as a kitten.” He had to be joking, didn’t he? But he took a very large sip before stepping in close and placing his hands on either side of her waist. ”Can you be any more eager than I am?”

Almost panting, she replied, “Much more.”

Then, his lips were on hers, one hand removed the glass from her while the other gently cupped her right breast. His tongue gently slid between her lips and there was only one emotion now, deep down below her centre of gravity.

Brad unfastened the top button of her dress and his fingers stroked the first gentle rise of her breast. Her skin tingled and she raised her own arms and placed them around his neck while her tongue flicked out to meet his and the pressure of his lips intensified.

His other arm drew her close and she felt the hardness of him against her lower belly. Yes, yes, yes, just what she’d come for.

Breaking the kiss, he growled huskily, "I think we need comfort."

Panting now, Mandy nodded, and Brad opened a pastel blue door and led her into a bedroom, lavish as the rest of the apartment, which she’s hardly had time to view. A king-size bed was littered with bright cushions.

By the bedside, Brad quietly whispered, "May I?" before sliding her dress down so that it tumbled at her feet.

"No bra," he said with a smile. "I thought not." His fingers tenderly enveloped the softness of each breast. When he leaned down to kiss her right nipple, his hands slid her panties to follow the route of her dress.

Mandy was breathlessly eager as Brad's fingers stroked over the flatness of her belly and lingered briefly in her bush, as though tousling the head of a little boy.

He stepped back and viewed her naked body appreciatively. Any embarrassment she might have felt had vanished.

"Terrific body and gorgeous tawny triangle.” And once again his fingers gently flickered over her mound, before nodding towards the bed. Mandy needed no second bidding. Just climbing onto that silkiness set her skin aglow.

Brad quickly shed his shirt, unbuckled his belt and allowed his trousers and shorts to drop to the floor.

Mandy moistened further as she gazed at the firm muscular body revealed and more pertinently the hugely erect cock pointing at the ceiling.

She hadn’t seen many erect cocks, but this had to be larger and fuller than any in her meagre experience. The thick blue vein on the underside seemed to be throbbing just for her.

Momentary apprehension had her wondering whether she could take it all. Then Brad was alongside her, so comforting, his naked thigh touching hers and his smooth hands tracking gently across the contours of her lissom body.

His actions emphasised every nuance of her curves and the subtlety of his touch made her so very aware of the texture of her own skin. His hands adored her.

His lips lingered teasingly over hers, briefly touching then retreating. Oh, so expert.

At last his mouth meshed with hers, his tongue probing deep over her own. An electrifying mingling. As his body turned towards her his hardness pressed against her hip, as though knocking for entry.

Mandy became aware of blood pounding through every vein but centring low down in her abdomen, and she felt herself soaking down there. She was ready and it would be all right.

Kissing her with continued fervour, Brad’s fingers trailed over her breasts, tickling at the nipples. An action that she found most intoxicating.

Even more intoxicating were those fingers centred on each of her nipples, and she felt them rising under his touch.

Then his mouth broke from hers and he kissed and licked to the rise of her breasts, where his mouth played with little sucking and licking movements that had her gasping. When his mouth settled on her nipples, she knew she was in a realm of sensual experience that had been denied her up to this point.

His tongue trailed over her erect nipples for what seemed like ages while his hand made circling movements over her belly, before trailing once again through her bush.

Mandy, realising that she been selfishly engrossed in the sheer pleasure Brad brought her, traced her fingers across his muscular chest. She found herself eager to hold his cock. Almost a new sensation. She just knew that this wouldn't happen with Brad.

She was about to reach for his swollen member when his lips moved downwards over her belly just as she felt his fingers touch the lips at the start of her crevice.

Within seconds a finger was touching that spot that she had found pleasurable by herself. None of the men she'd been with had a clue what they were supposed to find or what to do when they did find it----but Brad knew.

His finger delicately flickered over her clit, and Mandy found herself wriggling in ecstatic response. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips continued their downward patrol, first nuzzling her pubic mound, then, his finger moved deeper and back soothingly along her soaking petals.

She heard him, “Mandy, you are just about ready.” Then the tip of his tongue touched on her swelling clit.

Mandy heard a loud ecstatic moan before she realised it was herself. Electric charges pulsed through her limbs. As the wild surge possessed her, although unable to think clearly, she wondered if that had been a real orgasm. Stronger than anything she had given herself.

Another groan escaped her lips as Brad gently probed two fingers into her eager entry.

His tongue and lips licking and sucking at her clit, and those fingers were combining to devastate her equilibrium as they worked on her warm moistness.

But now more than anything, she wanted, needed, desired the fulfilment, the completeness of her purpose tonight.

As if by mutual agreement, Brad rolled between her throbbing open thighs. Looking down into her eyes, with his own eyes clouded with desire, he asked respectfully, “You sure about this?”

"Oh, yes, I'm really sure." She wanted to scream, 'Please get on with it'

"You seem ready.”

Her body on fire, Mandy soundlessly screamed in her head, “Do it. Do it!”

All Mandy wanted was to have the unknown sensation of a gorgeous cock moving inside her.

Demanding, yet fearful, eager yet curious, she held her breath as Brad gently placed his cock head against her soaked lower lips. His eyes never left hers as a gentle nudge parted the way and the walls of her passage clutched at his entry.

Another nudge and he went deeper. Warmth and tingling coursed through Mandy's body. But his iron-hard cock began to retreat. No, no, she wanted---- But at that point, Brad gave one large thrust and he was filling her, immense, gratifying up every inch of her. There had been momentary discomfort as her virgin walls were made to expand, but then those same walls began drawing at him.

He withdrew and plunged again, withdrew and plunged, ever deeper. Deep, deep into her very being. And, at last, Mandy knew what a real orgasm was like, as her mind spun around the sensations and ecstasy that consumed her.

The rhythm of his movement quickly became her rhythm. And they pounded together. Hips rising and falling in unison.

"Oh, Mandy," she heard him gasp, as he raised himself slightly and his hardness ran along her clit. ”I’ve wanted this ever since I saw that tawny hair blowing across your face on the ski slope.”

And the heat, the movement, the sheer power of it all, carried her away once more. Vaguely, she heard herself gasping and squealing as the massive wave of orgasm struck and struck again.

Brad’s growling in her ear increased as he raised himself just once to give an almighty final push that Mandy was sure struck her cervix. So intense was his own climax that Mandy was convinced she could feel the spurting of his cum inside her as he bucked, thrashed and moaned above her.

At last, collapsed side by side, they lay, gently fingering each other until, having showered, they did it again. This time, despite Brad’s weak protest, she took his solid member into her virgin mouth, rather amazed at how good that felt. But Brad did pull away to prevent spurting into her mouth.

He entered her again, more subtly, more fervently, even more satisfying for both of them.

At about two in the morning, after a third mutual orgasm, Brad rose above her, to ask, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Uncertain and a little worried, Mandy responded, “Make it the bad news. I’m strong enough.”

“Well, “ he said, unsmiling, “I’m not willing to let you loose on the world."

As she, happily and relievedly, asked what the good news was all that Mandy could think was, like in the song 'This could be the start of something big’.

Brad’s smiling reply confirmed that “Not ever.”