Sex in the Snow

It was a calm Saturday night, a peaceful atmosphere in our small home as I added more wood to the fireplace. It was our first holiday season together as husband and wife, and our credit cards certainly bore the evidence of that... as did the bags of holiday decorations and gifts still piled near the sofa.

I glanced up to gaze upon my beautiful young wife. She stood and looked out the window at the snowfall, something she had missed during our four years at an Arizona university. Her cherry-red hair truly stood out against the white sweater she wore and the whitish-blue glow of the moonlight illuminating the scene outside.

I placed the safety grate across the fireplace, then stood and returned to her. I wrapped my arms around her, and she leaned back against me, lacing her fingers together behind my neck. Recognizing this position, my hands gravitated up to her chest, gently kneading each small needful breast. She sighed contentedly, her fingernails gently scratching at the small hairs at the base of my skull.

"This has been a good year for us," my wife said softly. "Graduation, your new job here, the birth of my niece, our wedding, the honeymoon in Paris, the new Xbox 360... and your hands fondling my breasts."

I laughed softly, squeezing her breasts a little more forcefully. "I'm glad you're a breast man," she admitted as I resumed my caresses of her feminine swells.

"There is one thing I've wanted to do for a while," she began.

"What's that?" I asked, my face buried in her hair and inhaling her cherry-tinged scent from her shampoo.

"You'll probably think this is strange," she said, almost whispering, "but I've long wanted to make love in the snow."

I looked out the window, noting the eight inches of snow already on the ground. Granted, having lived in the northern states for my entire life with the exception of my university career, I was quite familiar with winter, and with snow in particular... especially with shoveling the snow and with forming and throwing snowballs. As a Boy Scout, I had even gone camping numerous times in the snow.

But sex in the snow? I had to really think about that for a moment. If we would be fully clothed and she wore a skirt, then I could unzip my jeans and pull aside her thong and we could make love that way, both of us still remaining relatively warm. But if she intended for us to both be completely naked for this...

"You don't want to see me naked in the snow in the moonlight?" she challenged. With my face still buried in her hair, I could hear her smile in her voice.

Having known each other for more than three years, she knew exactly how to push my buttons. "Okay," I relented, "but I'm not to blame if we both end up getting sick!"

My wife turned around in my arms and hugged me fiercely. "Thank you! You won't regret this!"

We took our time undressing each other, loving each other with our hands and lips and eyes. And when we were finally ready to emerge from our warm haven, she climbed upon my back and I carried her outside, into the cold, snowy night.

The erection deflated quickly in the cold air, assisted by the cold snow surrounding my feet as I stepped down from the porch. I only barely bit back a loud, impolite yelp as the cold snow seemed to permeate my skin and chill my blood. My wife slid off my back, and she did give a loud, impolite yelp upon feeling the cold snow surrounding her feet.

But, to her credit, my wife moved to stand before me, gave my lips a quick kiss, then dropped to her knees. Immediately, she worked to renew my vigor. In the confines of her hot mouth, my erection grew quickly despite the cold surroundings. I watched her shiver as she worked with a singular purpose, her free hand busy between her thighs, her eyes looking up my shivering form with a dance of wildness at having a fantasy realized. Never have I linked goose bumps with sexual activity, but that was the situation at the moment, and suddenly it seemed as natural as combining cookies and milk.

And then, it was time. She stood once more, stroking me as we kissed briefly, then turned and braced herself against the porch railing. Quickly, perhaps faster than usual, I impaled her all-too-willing body, and we both groaned aloud at the rapid penetration.

My erection firmly embedded in a warm, wet, sensual, beautiful, loving young woman, I reached forward to grasp my wife's breasts. Using her chest as leverage, I began to move within her, and she quickly matched my rhythm.

Suddenly, the cold temperature and the seemingly-colder snow did not matter any longer. I was aware of the moonlight and how it seemed to cause my wife's naked back to glow. But other than that, all I was aware of was the romantic joining with the love of my life, the gasps and mews spilling from her lips, the clenching of her sex around mine. And when we at last achieved release simultaneously, the last thoughts of cold were dispelled from even my subconscious mind.

...until we collapsed to our knees upon the snow-covered ground, my beautiful wife kneeling before me as I clutched her from behind.

The next morning, we did indeed both awaken with colds, but fortunately we were not truly sick. We have already decided that we will do it again on Valentine's Day: outdoors, naked, in the moonlight, only each other's warmth and love to protect us from the cold. But this time, I believe I will suggest we even start our foreplay outside in the snow.