The Blizzard

Ted and Margaret please write again.

Story synopsis.

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A young very happily married mother is travelling up to Scotland on Xmas Eve to spend the holiday with her husband and child at her husband's parent's home. Her husband has the whole of the lead up week off work but she can only get away at midday on Xmas eve. Because his folks tend to see very little of their grandchild he has travelled up some days earlier. The weather is cold but clear when she sets off but almost immediately a bad blizzard starts and persists for the whole of her journey. In the summer, in her fast two seater sports car she can make the 200 mile trip in a little over three hours but due to the snow, after a solid six hours she is still twenty miles from her destination and is worried about her remaining fuel.

When she gets onto the lesser travelled Scottish roads, it becomes far worse until she is in third place in a slow moving convoy of five vehicles headed by a large four wheel drive estate. At one point the second car gives up and pulls into a hotel and soon after she can see the lights of only one vehicle behind her. At one point the lead car is forced to stop to clear a blockage before managing to continue but the only other remaining car decides to turn round at that point. Some fifteen minutes late there is a massive drift completely blocking further progress and by now there is no possibility of retreat either.

Realising the situation, the other driver walks back and asks how well she is supplied with survival gear and supplies but she has nothing apart from a couple of boxes of chocolates intended as gifts. The other driver is ex service with survival training and he realises her inadequate situation so he points out that they are in a dead zone for mobiles and may be isolated for up to three days and suggests that she join him in his much larger and better equipped vehicle. She is hesitant about going off with the stranger but something about him inspires trust and she follows him to his vehicle.

It will eventually turn out that he is on the run and has equipped himself for living rough. Essentially he has a large sleeping bag, a camping stove and a good supply of candles. He persuades her to sleep naked when she joins him in the sleeping bag and although it all starts off very decorously with their backs to each other, they end up having sex and, having once started, they continue messing around for the next three days. In fact they have nothing else to do except talk, eat, sleep and screw.

When rescue is imminent, he slips away during another snowstorm but when safe she tells the rescuers about the man who saved her life and when reunited with her husband, he was eager to believe that nothing improper happened between her and the good Samaritan. Unfortunately a couple of days later the story breaks that then man is a murderer. With this knowledge her husband renews his questioning and she eventually confesses everything that took place.

The Blizzard.

At midday on Xmas Eve of the eighth year of a wonderful marriage, I set off for Scotland to spend the festive season with my husband and four-year old son at the home of his parents. Clive had a very well paid job as an engineer and I had employment that I really enjoyed in PR, so we were comfortably off financially. Due to the many hours overtime that he put in over the year my husband had been able to stop work three days before the holiday where I had to continue working until almost the last minute, so as his folks saw relatively little of their grandson, we decided that Clive would take Brian up there at the first opportunity in his company car and I would follow three days later in my Subaru. That two-seater was an undoubted indulgence but it gave me a great deal of pleasure. It was not exactly financed by the company, but because it undoubtedly enhanced my corporate image, I received and allowance on top of my salary towards it.

Although I had indulged in fairly casual sex play with others, I took some pride in the fact that I only had full sex with half a dozen guys before I met Clive and that was far less than most of my female friends. Even more significant is the fact that with each of them I did it at least twelve times. This reflects the fact that I would go all the way only with someone I had feelings for. I really like sex but I do believe that it should always be done as part of something else.

The weather was clear but very cold when I started and there was little on my mind except anticipating pleasures waiting in the days ahead. My journey was a little over 200 miles but I had made the same trip a couple of times in the summer time and did it in just over three hours both times. The car is really fast when pushed and I'm not afraid of breaking speed limits occasionally. Unfortunately for my plans, I had only been travelling for only about twenty minutes when it started to snow, not just a flurry, this was seriously thick snow and it was to persevere for the rest of my journey. Something that I have noticed over the years is the way that adverse weather, particularly snow brings out two radically opposite kinds of bad driver. The first suicidal kind takes the conditions as a challenge to even push their normal limits and the second type would only be really happy with a man carrying a red flag to walk in front of their vehicle. In such poor visibility it was a nerve wracking business daring to pass barely moving cars ahead with danger of some kamikaze merchant coming hurtling up from behind.

So much for my hopes of a three hour trip, after over six hours of solid driving I was still twenty miles short of my destination and by now I had left the motorways for the lesser roads beyond. Another two hours should see me there as long as the road stayed open. As far as I could make out I was in the middle of a six vehicle convoy. In the lead was what I thought was a gritting lorry. I suspected that it was returning to base but even if it had already spread its load there was some reassurance being behind a vehicle specifically designed for the weather. In second place was a large 4x4 estate, a smaller car followed him, I came next and I thought I could see the lights of two others following in my wake. A handful of miles further on, to my great disappointment, the lorry turned off and a bit further on car number three decided that discretion was the better part of valour and turned into a hotel. I think we lost number five at the same time. I would have perhaps been wise to grasp the same option but by now I was feeling too close to give up.

After a handful more miles making slow progress, the lead vehicle halted and the driver got out. From his silhouette he seemed both very tall and broadly built. After surveying the road in front of his wheels he removed a shovel from the trunk and proceeded to spend five minutes energetically clearing a path through the heaped snow. I took the opportunity to pour myself the remaining contents of my thermos flask. Eventually the leader proceeded and quickly disappeared from sight. When I reached the same choke point I had some difficulty maintaining traction but was soon very thankfully moving easily on the downward slope. It was only when I reached the bottom of the hill that I noticed that there were no longer headlights behind me and assumed that the third member of our trio must have also called it a day.

Less than two miles further on the other car again halted but this time after getting out to survey the road ahead he made no further recourse to his shovel. Instead he produced a powerful torch and shone it towards me before starting to stride purposefully in my direction. He seemed to be at least 6' 5" in height. On automatic reaction I operated the central locking and then lowered the window a couple of inches as he drew close. "There's a massive drift blocking the road ahead so we are going nowhere forward today," he announced. "By now I doubt if we can get back the way we came so we're going to be stuck here, possibly for a number of days. You might be better off coming in with me."

My natural distrust of strangers taking control, I replied politely, "I'm all right, thank you very much."

"That's completely up to you lady," he said shortly with a touch of either anger or impatience, "I have no intention of dying here but you stand a very good chance of doing so if you stay by yourself. What have you got in the way of supplies, food and drink?"

"I've got a bottle and a half of water and two big boxes of chocolates but they're in the boot," I told him.

"Petrol?"

"Very low."

"Well I've got plenty of everything and I've had good survival training so I can guarantee to keep you both fed and warm, no matter how long we are stuck here," my would be rescuer informed me. "I've got no desire to take responsibility for you but I can't just stand by and watch you perish."

The stranger spoke well moderated immaculate English and that fact immeasurably increased my trust level, (which is ironic considering the fact of the current vogue for American films with a villain speaking in an impeccable English accent.) "I will come with you," I said.

Part of my reluctance to change locations was being unwilling to exchange my car's presently warm interior for the harshness of the exterior elements, even temporarily. My rescuer was wearing big heavy boots and his clothing and hood offered full protection from the weather, so much so that he wouldn't have looked out of place hiking across the arctic. In contract I always drove in flimsy slip on shoes and my top coat was a small fashionable effort As I released the locks and started to open my door, he instructed, "Bring the water but we can come back for the chocolates later if needed," then, having scanned the interior with his torch, he added, "And bring that thermos."

I told him that the flask was empty but he said to bring it anyway. Taking a deep breath I turned off the engine and stepped out, to find myself up to the knees in snow, upon which he stepped back allowing me to precede him, thoughtfully illuminating the track ahead of me. Carrying my burdens I set off but was finding it such heavy slow going that half way there he stepped forward and scooped me up in his arms and effortlessly carried me the rest of the way to his vehicle. Putting me down by the rear door of his estate, he ordered, "Get those wet jeans off. There's a blanket on the back seat that you can wrap round your legs. While you're going that, I'm going to make a wall of snow round the exhaust to prevent it becoming blocked."

By the time that the man in charge had completed his self appointed task, I had removed my trousers as instructed and was sitting on the back seat with legs tucked up in front and the thick blanket wrapped comfortingly round me. Before getting into the driving seat he slipped off his upper garment and shook it roughly free of snow then rolled it efficiently into a tube and placed it carefully in the foot well. Finally, grinning over his shoulder at he said cheerfully, "What we both need now is a nice hot cup of coffee."

The smile made his face look pleasant. He could never be described as handsome but his hard weather beaten features could easily be referred to as 'ruggedly good looking'. I smiled back but could think of nothing to say so I just watched as he removed a camping stove and small kettle from the glove compartment and started to warm water for a drink. "At the moment I still have a carton of fresh milk but after that we'll be stuck with the powdered stuff." he informed me. "I'm Geoff by the way, that's spelt with a G" he added, a smile again splitting his face.

"Joanne but everybody calls me Jo," I reciprocated and we went through the motions of saying Hello without going so far as to shake hands.

With coffee made in two mugs, Geoff placed them carefully on the dashboard before suggesting that I should climb into the passenger seat, pointing out that I would feel a lot warmer closer to the air duct.

I was in a bit of a dilemma. I wanted the extra heat but it is hard climbing over the backs of seats elegantly in the best of circumstances, virtually impossible when all I had covering my modesty was that wrapped round blanket. I wished that I had dressed in sensible knickers but that morning, when slipping on the flimsy nothing panties that I had decided to wear, I happily anticipated my husband's pleasure removing them that night. I scrambled over, well aware that I had given him a pretty decent flash. Ever the gentleman, Geoff's face remaining impassive and only his eyes giving hint of appreciation.

Handing me my mug he said cheerfully, "When we've drunk this I'll see about doing us something to eat. I've got a selection of official British army 24 hour iron ration packs, a section of dried soups, coffee and sugar together with a few tins, mainly meat. We certainly won't be going hungry but is there anything you fancy."

"I am peckish but I'll leave it up to you." I told him. "Are you in the army?"

"I was," he said simply, without any further expansion."

"Is that where you did your survival training?"

He nodded. "I've been in both the arctic and Antarctic and also been tested in both desert and jungle environments."

I couldn't think of a follow up question and Geoff filled the conversation gap by asking if I was married. I told him I was and also described both Clive and my son but for some reason, without actually lying, I made my marriage sound more idyllic and perfect than it really was. Having spoken I immediately felt a little ashamed at my unnecessary exaggeration and I felt a lot worse when I turned the question back on him." Like you I was very happily married but I lost my wife," he said quietly.

"Did she die? I said. I assumed that that must be the explanation because I couldn't see any reason for her to leave him."

"She was murdered. Raped and murdered," Geoff said reluctantly

"That's terrible. 'I'm terribly sorry. Did they catch the person responsible?"

"They knew who did it but he got acquitted on a legal technicality."

"You mean that he's been released to do it to some other poor woman," I gasped shocked.

Geoff's jaw tightened and I saw an echo of past anger flit across his face as he said tersely, "He's dead."

Something about the way that he said those two words choked off the flood of questions I had poised ready to come out. Although still very curious, I was uneasy with this information and to my relief, after a pause, Geoff changed the subject by saying, "I'm going to do something simple for us to eat, basically corned beef and baked beans if that's OK with you. In future I'll try to do the cooking in daylight because I don't want to waste the torch batteries."

Some fifteen minutes later we were tucking in with our meal illuminated by a couple of candles on the dashboard. I was surprised to find out how hungry I was. After the stress of the day it was nice to relax and we passed some time in inconsequential conversation before Geoff cleared his throat and said, "I've now got to mention something rather awkward, two things actually. The first is sleeping arrangements We cant keep the engine running continually for heat so we ought to sleep as much as possible I've got a good sleeping bag. It's only a single but quite generously sized, so you should fit in there too if you're willing. If we lie with our backs to each other all proprieties can be observed. "

I had already decided that this was a man who would not take advantage of me so I gave a little laugh and said, "I'd rather be a bit jammed in and warm rather than by myself and feeling cold."

Over the years I had heard of a handful of occasions when, due to a booking mistake, unrelated colleagues of opposite genders had been forced to share a hotel bed. In every example the two involved had vehemently maintained that nothing untoward had taken place but when the news got around, this denial was invariable taken with a large pinch of salt and I admit that I was as sceptical as the rest. It seems that it is human nature to always believe the worst or is it simply the universal knowledge that human nature finds unlimited opportunity almost impossible to resist. Well I intended to be the excerption that proved the rule.

To my mind, my answer to Geoff had settled the matter but he still had an embarrassed look on his face. After just a moment I gave him a quizzical look, upon which he blurted out, "Look, this sleeping bag is scientifically design to give most benefit if the occupant is naked, that's how I intend to sleep but what you do is entirely up to you."

I had a decision to make but that still left the quandary of who should go first. My rescuer immediately solved that problem by volunteering, "It may be best if I start the ball rolling, if you want to look away while I strip off." I nodded my agreement. All that had been arranged quite formally but Geoff altered the mood by grinning and adding, "No peeping – promise."

I nodded but didn't actually promise, before turning my back and listening to the sound of him discarding his garments. Of course I did peep, I think any woman would in that situation. My sideways glance happened at the optimum moment because I caught him completely naked, just as he crouched to slip inside the sleeping bag. His muscled physique was lean and hard without an ounce of spare flesh on him but I was rather shocked to see many nasty looking white scars on his back and legs. I only got a quick glimpse at his penis but decided that it was exactly what I would have expected on such a big man.

"Your turn," Geoff called out and that reminded me that I still had to decide my attire for the night. It took just a moment to decide that I would go with the scientific argument, reasoning that as long as I retained bra and panties my modesty would be sufficiently protected. Well that was my decision until the last moment when on impulse I removed those garments as well. It seemed pointless not to. While disrobing I had kept a beady eye on my prone companion but he played the perfect gentleman without even the slightest peek. Perhaps I felt a little disappointed.

Taking care to avoid bodily contact as I did so, I carefully slid down into the sleeping bag. Once in place I tuned my back on my close quarters sleeping companion and muttered a polite goodnight. Geoff reached out to extinguish the candle and it was only when he relaxed back for the night that I realised a major problem. Although I was warm all over, Geoff had been sitting with his back nearest to the side of the car which was bearing the brunt of the storm. In consequently his buttocks were icy cold and I could feel the heat being drained out of me.

"This isn't going to work," I told him, "You've either got to move further away or roll over, at the moment it's like cuddling a block of ice." The moment that it left my mouth, I regretted having used the word 'cuddle'.

Geoff was contrite and immediately manoeuvred to reverse his position. Feeling warm and safe I began to drift off to sleep and one of the thoughts that drifted through my head was what my loving husband would think, if he knew I was lying naked with less than a couple of inches separating me from a rugged naked man. That thought triggered me back to consciousness as I realised that I hadn't thought of Clive once since stepping out of my Subaru. Then I had imagined his reaction when police informed him that I had perished in the snow.

Once more sleep started to reclaim me until I became aware that something hard was digging into me. It didn't take long to realise that Geoff had an erection. My first reaction was amusement, I could hardly blame him. 'Men are such simple creatures,' I thought with some condescension until realising that I had become more than I little moist myself. I didn't feel at all guilty about these signs of arousal, knowing that it was simply genetic programming coming into action. It was a quick thrill but I was a happily married woman and that was a far as it was going to go. Reaching back, I took hold of his stiff penis and moved it quickly between my buttocks, telling him very firmly, "Don't get any ideas, I just know I won't get a moments sleep with that thing digging in my back all night."