Lisa Stilton stood next to a parapet of the old castle overlooking a snow covered foreign city. She reminded Bo of the skier, Lindsey Vonn, who hailed from their own country. Or perhaps Lisa was a little Dutch girl with yellow braided hair planning to put her finger in a dike.
The final day of their European Honeymoon was to end with a bit of sightseeing before returning to Colorado. Hard to believe his new wife had been Lisa French only a few days before and, to some extent, a different person.
***
They had met at a tech conference in Denver. She wasn’t naïve and was no virgin, but over the course of a few brief dalliances, she’d never fallen in love. When she met Bo her heart pounded like a schoolgirl and she knew…she just knew…he was the one.
After a tantalizing getting-to-know-each-other-better weekend, Lisa and Bo cut to the chase. And exactly one year from the day they met, the man of her dreams waited for her grand entrance to the altar in a small church. As Lisa walked down the aisle, she could hear her own heart pounding like the night she had first seen Bo. Her father’s hand steered her to the right spot and his smile told her she was apt to survive the whole thing. By her side stood the beaming man who was about to become her husband.
Bo and Lisa exchanged vows and rings then sealed it with a kiss and caress. They left the church in a hail of rice and drove away with the traditional Just Married sign in the back window. But there was something else on the newly married couple’s minds: the honeymoon they hoped would prove to be anything but usual.
They stopped at their new apartment to peel out of their wedding duds. Bo wanted to make love to his bride then and there, but he’d promised to wait until they were airborne or as soon as they reached the chalet in Switzerland. For a few brief days, they would leave one world for another, just a long flight away.
Lisa dreamed of a snow-covered bungalow in the Swiss Alps. Bo promised to make the wish come true if she married him. They had both taken occasional advantage of Colorado’s nearby slopes, but were novice skiers. Perhaps they would try some runs at their destination, perhaps not. It would be the peaks and valleys of each other’s bodies they preferred to master.
***
Bo waited for his opportunity on the nearly full flight. In the wee hours, once most passengers had settled into a restless sleep, Bo led Lisa into a vacant loo.
A tired smile carved Lisa’s face. “This is going to be like two sardines trying to screw, I’m afraid.”
“Never fear my dear,” Bo replied. “No place is too uncomfortable to make love to my blond angel.”
Corny, but it worked. They’d had sex regularly since they met, but Lisa wanted some mysteries delayed until they were married. Their exploration had been limited to masturbatory exchanges and positions the pilgrims might have approved of. So if a little kink began in an airplane’s potty, so be it.
They pulled down each other’s pants and vied for space. Lisa gave Bo’s penis a two-handed massage. “Looks like you’re ready honey,” she said, excitement replacing fatigue for both of them.
First, they kissed tenderly. Then their tongues made practiced, tonsil-tickling darts. Bo judged his thrust clearance and decided he could indeed fuck Lisa doggie-style with a foot or so to spare. “Turn around, sweetheart,” he said. His cock took aim and plunged into Lisa nailing her to him like a spike driven into tender pine. She emitted a satisfied grunt and settled into a repeating uuuuhh as his strokes became regular and deliberate.
“If celebrities get their tallies whacked in First Class loos then why not a simple couple celebrating a new phase of their young lives?” Bo offered as his impassioned thrusts continued, tightening his grip on Lisa’s hips. Her blond tresses flowed down the back of her sweater as the twin moons of her fanny began to tremble.
“Damn, honey,” she purred, “never knew being a sardine could feel so good.”
“And this is just the appetizer. We’ll fuck in cuckoo-clock country next.”
Lisa’s vagina held fast to Bo’s persistent shaft, but a bumpy spot in the heavens upset their balance. Bo landed on the stool and she, on his lap, still tethered. In an amazing gymnastic move, Lisa swiveled on his knob until they were face to face. She clasped her hands around his neck and placed her feet past his ears against the bulkhead, the acrobatic achievement of this position amazing him. The jeans dangling from one of Lisa’s ankles lay across Bo’s head like a bonnet, but he didn’t care. He focused on her winking navel and swatch of downy hair that had swallowed his cock. Beneath her sweater, her nipples preened admirably and her breasts bounced satisfyingly.
The eventual tap on the door ended their erotic rhapsody. They pulled themselves together and Bo sheepishly opened the cabin door. He needn’t have been embarrassed. A female flight attendant smiled at the two of them as if she had seen it all, many times.
“We’ll be serving breakfast soon with a glass of champagne for the newlyweds.”
“Who arranged that,” Lisa asked the attendant, then looked at Bo.
“Everything that you desire, princess. Everything I desire as well.”
***
After landing safely and acquiring a rental car, Bo and Lisa thrilled at the landscape while again climbing in altitude, this time through steep, forested slopes. The scattered cabins and the milky-white snow looked like a wondrous fantasy landscape turning pink in the ebbing light.
As they found their cabin, a sign hung above the door that read Welcome Bo and Lisa. Lisa beamed. Because Bo truly wanted to make this a special moment in their lives, he hefted Lisa into his arms and carried her across the threshold of their temporary love nest. She hugged his neck and managed to avoid getting clunked by the doorframe.
Neither of them had seen anything quite like the log cabin honeymoon suite. It was a palace compared to their little apartment. The help had started a nice blaze in the fireplace. Part of their honeymoon package was a boxed gourmet meal so they wouldn’t have to go out to eat.
Double doors opened onto a wooden deck outfitted with a hot tub. Lisa and Bo stepped out onto the platform and admired the breathtaking view of the sloping mountainside they were perched upon. Bo reached down and turned the hot tub’s dials. The water began to churn and gurgle.
“This will take some time to heat up,” Bo said. “What shall we do first, Lisa? Make love or eat?”
“So many choices,” Lisa answered and wrinkled her nose. “Let’s make love then eat, then make love again, then hot tub, then—”
“Whoa, let’s just work on your first choice.”
They left the water to boil and returned to the warmth of the cabin. Their hands moved over each other slowly and tenderly, wanting every part of this ceremonial time to be imprinted in their memories. Bo explored Lisa’s face. Then he covered her neck and shoulders with touches and kisses twisting tendrils of her hair between his fingers.
“They say we might spot some wildlife while we’re here,” Lisa said as they undressed each other.
His eyes hesitated at her sumptuous breasts. “That will be nice, but frankly, it’s beaver-fever I’ve got, Honey.”
A faux coquettish expression came to life. “Oh, Bo, you can be downright pagan sometimes.” She finished undressing by slipping out of her freshly purchased lace panties. “And you can talk as nasty to me as you want.”
“I adore your sentiment, but my mouth plans to be busy,” he answered, anxious to explore what Lisa had made him wait for.
They kissed. Their tongues swirled inside the other’s mouth as Bo tweaked Lisa’s nipples. They lay on top of the bedspread and brushed their hands over bare skin. Bo creeped down to Lisa’s thighs. His fingers spread the delicate flaps of Lisa’s vagina to reveal its pink folds. They were like flower petals matching the hue of her rose colored nipples. She was delightfully color-coordinated.
“Are you ready for a new adventure?” he asked her.
“Oh, yes, Bo. I want you to taste me.”
He dove between her limbs, messaged her clitoris with his thumb, and ate her pussy. It wasn’t his first fur-burger, but it was the most succulent.
Lisa’s body responded in spasms. “Oh shit. This is so good, I might have to talk dirty.”
“Ummmm,” said Bo.
“Maybe we should come here every anniversary.”
“Ummmm.”
Lisa quivered with pleasure, the new sensation releasing new desires. “It’ll be your turn when you get through. I want to experience every taboo, do all the things girls whisper about at slumber parties. My pent-up emotions want to hang out. And best of all, I’m your wife.”
Bo licked her layers, listening to her words, thinking about variations. He dined on Lisa until she climaxed with a final shudder.
“I’m hungry, too, darling,” Lisa moaned. She gathered his face in her hands. “Give me you.”
He crawled across the bed until his cock and balls rested next to Lisa’s unabashed smile. She lifted his genitals, weighed them in her delicate hand.
“These belong to me now,” she said. “The tool of my husband’s desire.” She puzzled over Bo’s friendly weapon and ran a finger along its length tracing its veins and ridges. It was an entity with its own personality. She stuck out her tongue and licked the slit of its crown. Bo’s dick stiffened.
“I don’t want milk today, Bo. I want thick cream. Let me do it.”
Bo lay on his back and remembered the silly fantasy Lisa had shared about him delivering milk to her apartment and remaining for a romp in the hay. The milkman cometh.
Lisa raised her head and guided his cock into her mouth. Her first attempt was unpracticed letting it slide between the inside of her jaw and gums, like she was brushing her teeth with it. She squeezed his dangling balls as they began to recede into his groin.
She took it out long enough to express her wishes. “I want your orgasm.”
“Sounds great. Try putting it between your teeth.”
“Okay.” Lisa rested his penis on her tongue, gently closed her lips around it, and sucked on its crown like it was a Tootsie Roll.
“That’s better, baby. Lot’s better.” With Bo’s help, Lisa got the motion going. “After I come, we’ll eat the food,” Bo said with a playful smile, “and then I’ll fuck you properly.”
It was Lisa’s turn to answer with a muffled, “Ummmm.” She’d gotten the hang of it. With a little practice, Bo felt sure she’d be able to suck the bend out of a river.
She licked his prick with an adventurous tongue, sliding it around her mouth so it could touch all the inner walls of her throat the same way she wanted it to touch all the walls of her pussy when they fucked. She stopped occasionally to lick his balls and kiss the smooth spot between them and his anus. She learned quickly that there were many ways to please Bo.
When he sounded the moan that preceded his orgasm, she centered his cannon and held it firmly so she wouldn’t lose a drop. He exploded in waves. It took three swallows to absorb her husband’s semen. Bo squirmed with a satisfaction that didn’t need words.
Lisa breathed for a moment, brushed a lock of her blond hair from her face and said, “Oh baby. Your cock is truly amazing and I like the taste.”
“As sweet as a spoonful of molasses?”
“No, not that sweet, but as creamy as a vanilla shake.” She moved her hand from the base of Bo’s phallus and squeezed upward to its tip, draining the final drops onto her tongue.
Bo started to descend from his sexual high, still in exaltation that his wife had taken to a blow-job so enthusiastically. His slithery penis receded in her hand. She watched Bo’s cock grow smaller. Then she patted him on his bare thigh. “We can eat in bed can’t we?”
Bo rescued their dinner. They fed each other strawberries out of a fruit-bowl. Afterwards, Bo checked the hot-tub. “The water feels just right,” he reported. “Maybe you’d like to take a dip before we start up again?”
Lisa bounded out of bed. “This is the night to do whatever my husband says I should do.” They trotted onto the cedar deck under a canopy of bright stars above the soaring pine trees and lowered themselves into the cauldron. “Oh, Bo, what a gorgeous night, like it was made for us.”
Lisa’s breasts floated enticingly. Bo’s pecker floated like a one-tentacle hydra. They played with each other’s parts until Bo was hard again. Then, lit only by starlight, Bo moved Lisa to the edge of the tub. “Put your hands on the deck, Honey.”
Bo wanted the Mile High magic to continue, to complete what he had started above the clouds. He rose behind her and pushed his cock into her wet, dripping cunt. It slid back and forth inside Lisa’s steaming vagina. With a handful of Lisa’s thick hair, Bo imagined she was a steadfast Palomino he was spurring on to new heights like a lustful chariotter. The scene could have been the subject of a soft-porn film as Bo’s muscular frame and Lisa’s slim, slick shapeliness rose from the water, their connected parts insolated from the cold as vaporous steam rose from their bodies.
They came together. The water splashed around their legs until their urgent tremors subsided. Spent, they slid back into the water, relaxed and happy, pondering their private thoughts.
“It’s so much more than sex,” Lisa said. It’s the comfort, the companionship too.” She wrapped her arms around Bo’s neck, her wet breast nestling against his. “My father looked proud walking me down the aisle. My mother relieved.” She squeezed Bo tighter. “And now this. All this exciting sex to accompany the love.”
“Let’s go for a walk,” Bo suddenly said, breaking into Lisa’s reverie.
“A walk?”
“Yeah. We are insulated from the cold now. We’re good for awhile.”
“You mean, go naked?”
“No. Put on the snow-boots you got for the trip.”
“Do you really think we should? I mean, we’re in a strange country and it’s dark and if there’s a big ole hungry beast, we’re two tender, chewable people.”
“Where is your sense of adventure?”
“In the bedroom,” Lisa said coyly.
“C’mon. Be a sport.”
Lisa giggled causing her breasts to make small waves on the water’s surface. They climbed out and dried each other off. Bo laced up his boots while Lisa slipped into hers that were trimmed with white imitation fox-fur. Throwing their winter coats around their shoulders, they left the warmth of their cozy cabin for the great outdoors.
Bo placed his boot print in a snowdrift. “That’s one small step for a man and one giant step for my adventurous bride.”
The twosome blazed a trail though the crunchy snow. With Lisa’s boots and white coat that barely covered her butt, she looked like a Seventies go-go dancer. Bo pulled his I-phone from his coat pocket and snapped a picture.
“Hey,” she said. “I don’t think I want anyone to see that shot.”
“The boys at work will love seeing your boots and bare legs. Might have to blow it up and put it on the side panel of a van. Let’s see, ‘Drink cream like Lisa and you’ll look great without your pants.’”
She slapped his arm. “Oh, you. It could end up on the internet.”
“That’s an idea.”
She looked at Bo’s hairy legs beneath his coat “I remember the first time I saw your legs and was curious about the little man living between them. Now that I’ve come to know him personally, he’s welcome to visit whatever orifice he chooses.” She reached under Bo’s coat, found the man, and gripped it.
“Holy shit, Lisa. Your hand is cold. You’ll freeze him.”
She laughed and trotted ahead of Bo, now into the spirit of their bare-assed romp. She ran far enough to find a pristine snow bank that looked like a mountain of fine sugar. Lisa fell on her back into the white mound and made a snow angel with her arms. Her coat separated. Bo had a hankering to snap off another picture, but that might frost his wife’s randy mood.
The moon was at its zenith, the light soft on Lisa’s features, and her white garments. The sight of her downy muff in the pale light made Bo want to fuck his real-life devil/angel yet again. Cold or not, his penis peeked out between the folds of his coat. Soon the couple’s legs would feel the sting of the night air so he acted quickly. He opened his coat and fell upon the snow angel. His cock hit pay-dirt and once again, they coupled in the privacy of a moonlit night.
“I hope we always love having sex as much as we do now, as much as we love each other,” Lisa said to Bo.
He seconded the motion by plunging into her yet again, deeper this time, warming her with his blanket of skin. “No milk tonight, baby. Just more cream. Lot’s of it.”
Lisa’s cool legs found their way underneath Bo’s coat. The snowy boots locked behind his back. “The milkman cometh,” she breathed.
“No, the iceman cometh.”
In his brown winter coat, Bo could have been the hungry, wooly beast Lisa had mentioned, in rut for the first time after a long hibernation. “Before daybreak, back in the cabin, I’ll churn my cream into butter.”
“The more butter the better.”
They were both on fire once again, their hearts, minds, and bodies insulated from the cold night air.
Rapture, Bo thought. That’s what this is.
The snow angel came beneath the weight of her very own bear. It was his turn to think about the white church and the vows that had been exchanged only a day ago and how much had happened in just the first few hours of their new life.
And afterwards? Fuzzy slippers, a fancy shower with brass handles, a gentle fire, a warm bed, and a lifetime with Lisa. He thought of her that first night he’d seen her—her smile, her eyes, her small hands and her occasional tears, and how she had given them to him.
In the snow, they were experiencing no more than an instant in time, veiled in magic flakes, a momentary, honey-coated slice in the layer cake of life that would linger beyond its place in reality. He thanked the star-filled heavens that she was an angel on earth rather than a heavenly body beyond his grasp.
***
Two days of trying to become better skiers, they spent a final day sightseeing in the ancient city from whence their ancestors might have sprung. As Lisa peered over the city from the walled fortress, she again reminded Bo of a youthful angel dressed in winter clothes, full of wonder and joy, hoping for an adventurous life he hoped to help provide. He thought about the whirlwind of the previous few days and how blessed he was to have found this beautiful yet sensitive firebrand. Two images struck him: one of the demure maiden in her wedding dress and the other of this wanton woman in a snowbank spreading her thighs wide for him. He would hope and pray that their flame would not dim for years to come. And where there is hope….
