I stepped through the door, the wind howling around me, unable to see. The inside of the cabin wasn't much warmer than the storm outside, but the difference was enough to fog my glasses in an instant. I blindly set aside the axe and closed the door with my hip, slamming against it a few times until I could get it to properly latch. I sighed, taking off my glasses and setting them on the small table next to the door, stomping the thick, heavy snow off my boots. I could barely see you, just a hint of the cute pink pom-pom on your toque, poking up over the back of the couch where you huddled under your blanket against the cold.
“This is crazy!” you mumbled through your scarf as I stepped around the couch, depositing my armload of split wood next to the big stone fireplace. “Canadians are crazy! How do you all live like this!”
“Well... we don't, to be fair,” I replied, taking off my gloves and rubbing my hands together to get some feeling back into my fingers. “We live in big, insulated houses, with central heating. We just do things like this for fun.”
“For fun!” you exclaimed, shuddering and shaking your head. “That's even worse!”
I chuckled, making a quick crumple of the newspaper we'd brought, and setting a pyramid of wood splinters. The paper caught instantly, the flame licking at the wood. It wouldn't be long, now.
“You do realize, that's exactly how I feel about summers in Turkey, don't you?” I teased. “You can always put on more clothing, when you're cold... there's a limit to how much you're able to take off!”
“That's what the ocean, and air conditioning are for!” you quipped back, and I could only smile. The truth was, this weather was a little extreme, even for me. But we had thick cabin walls, and the start of a fire, now. We'd be okay.
I came closer to the couch, kneeling before you, reaching up to gently lower your scarf. Your lips were blue, your teeth chattering. I leaned in slowly, kissing you softly. Your lips were like ice!
“God, you really are frozen!” I shook my head in sympathy, softly stroking my hand on the side of your toque. It wasn't to the point of being dangerous... I'd seen frostbite before, plenty of times, and you didn't have it, thankfully. But I knew you had to be hating life right then, your first time ever being this cold.
“You should feel my nipples right now!” you chattered. “They're hard enough to cut glass!”
“Was that an offer?” I asked, grabbing you. Or trying to, at least—I didn't accomplish much, through the blanket, the thick, puffy coat, and the multiple layers of clothing underneath.
“No, it was not an offer!” you objected, batting my hand away. But I'd made you laugh, and that was what mattered.
“Just a little longer,” I reassured you, leaning in for another soft kiss, then lifting your scarf back into place. “It should start warming up soon.” I went back to the fireplace, setting the heavier logs into place now. I stayed there a minute, making sure they were going to catch and not fall out, before coming back to you again. “Okay, show me your boots; we need to get them off, and check your socks.”
“Forget it!” you denied, pulling your feel tighter against the couch, hiding them under the blanket. “It's still too cold! My boots are staying on!”
“It being too cold is exactly why they're coming off!” I corrected. “Feet go numb too easily—if they get wet, from snow getting into your boots, or from sweating too much, you can end up losing toes without even realizing anything's wrong.”
“Losing toes!” You gasped, and I didn't need you to lower your scarf to see the fear on your face. “You never warned me about that!”
“Because it's not going to happen. Because I know how to stop it before it does. Now give!” I demanded, and pulled your booted foot out from under the blanket. You whimpered a little, but let me do what I needed to, taking off your boot and examining your socks. They were fine, of course—I'd insisted that you wear the good, thick woollen ones I'd bought you, no matter how uncomfortable you said they were, for exactly this reason. I checked the other one too, then let you tuck both feet up under your thighs.
“Coat, next,” I demanded. You grumbled again, but you did as I said, letting me help you out of it. I took it over to the hooks near the door, giving it a brushing with my hand to make sure there weren't any stray bits of snow hidden in the creases, before hanging it up. I did the same with my own, then took off my own boots and came back over, standing them near the fire next to yours so they'd be nice and toasty for us the next morning.
“Let me guess... my pom-pom hat, next?” you grumbled, as I slipped in under your blanket with you, wrapping you in my arm and holding you tight.
“You're in Canada, now. It's called a 'toque',” I chuckled. “And no, your toque stays on for now. You lose more heat from your head than from anywhere else; a toque is your single most important piece of clothing, even more than your coat. Lose your coat, and you still have your shirts and sweater underneath. Lose your toque, and you'll end up getting frostbite on your ears for sure, if not worse.”
“Why did I ever let you convince me to go camping in the winter time?” you complained, nuzzling closer under my arm. “This is ridiculous! You're a big Canadian bear, you have antifreeze in your blood! I'm a Mediterranean girl! I'm not meant for weather like this!”
“I know, sweetie, I know...” I squeezed you tighter. “If I'd known the weather was going to turn like this, and we'd end up in an actual blizzard, I'd have postponed. But just to be clear... this isn't actually 'camping'. Camping means tents, and hiking. Or in weather like this, cross-country skiing, or snow-shoeing. Carrying everything you need in a backpack, at any rate, not just pulling it out of the back of the Jeep, and taking it into the nice, warm cabin.”
“Nice, warm cabin?” you asked incredulously, and I had to laugh.
“Warm in comparison. Out of the wind, at least. Just give it another few minutes, for the fire to really get going. If you ever want to see real winter camping... that can be arranged!”
“I'm leaving you! I'm leaving you, and I'm going back to Turkey, and I will never see snow again!”
“Love you too, baby!” I laughed, squeezing you tighter again, knowing you didn't mean it. Well... the leaving me part. The 'never seeing snow again' part... I couldn't blame you for that, at the moment.
We snuggled for warmth, my hand rubbing up and down your back. Eventually it warmed up enough for our scarves to come off, and we started to kiss. Your lips weren't nearly so ice-like anymore, and I hadn't heard your teeth chattering for a while.
“One moment,” I breathed, once your mittened hand had grabbed me between my legs. I darted off into the cabin's small bedroom, dragging the mattress in with me from the bed. You stood, giggling, helping me move the couch further away from the fire, making room. I laid you down on the mattress, tucking you in on the side closest to the fire... then took several more trips into the bedroom, until I'd layered you with every last blanket the cabin had to offer, before crawling in at your other side.
“Okay, now I'm too hot!” you giggled into my lips as we kissed.
“Yeah... but just think about how much fun it's going to be, stripping each other out of so many extra layers of clothes!”
You laughed even louder, and we started doing exactly that. It took so much longer than it normally did... but I could see in your eyes, you were having just as much fun as I was. Sweaters, shirts, undershirts, pants, underwear... everything ended up strewn onto the floor near the fire, so they would be warm for us in the morning.
“Are you going to fuck me in my thick woollen socks, and my cute little pom-pom hat?” you giggled.
“I told you already... it's called a toque!” I grinned, nipping gently at your lip. “And you bet your pretty little ass I am!”
You squealed as I rolled up on top of you, laughing as I kissed and nibbled at the side of your neck, gasping as my thick, swollen cock found my mark.
“Damn, baby...” I moaned. “Is it just me? Or is your pussy even hotter than normal?”
“Unnhg... Your cock, too! It feels like it's on fire! Fuck me! Fuck me with your fiery cock!”
“Oh, take it, baby! Take my cock in your tight, burning little pussy!” I gasped, and started to thrust. We moaned and writhed together under our thick, heavy blankets, the extra weight trapping our heat, the whistling wind outside accompanying your squeals. Time lost all meaning, nothing existed but you, and me, and our love, your slender thighs kicking ineffectually as you came, your nails digging deeply into my back. I finished, bursting deep inside of you, triggering one last orgasm of your own as well, then slowly withdrew, collapsing onto my side as you snuggled tight against my chest, rubbing your nose through my sweat-slickened chest hair.
“Okay... so maybe I'm starting to understand the appeal of winter camping...” you admitted, shyly giggling into my chest. I laughed, softly kissing you just under the brim of your adorable little 'pom-pom hat', as you called it.
“Love you, baby! So, so much!”
“Love you, too... Daddy!” you teased, reaching down between us to grab hold of my softening, cum-covered cock. I shuddered in pleasure... partly from the way you were squeezing, but even more at hearing you call me that. Which was exactly what you'd done it, of course. It was one of my favourite things about you, that we could always feed into each other's fantasies, no matter how dirty, or taboo, or wrong. Because the reality was none of those things... it was only love. Love, which would always make everything right!
