Storming Love Blizzard Kimo & Mike

by Neil S. Plakcy

  We walked back to the condo, and by the time we got there the guys had returned from the slopes. Mike was in our room, lying on the bed in thermal long johns, reading a magazine.

  He put it down when I walked in. “There’s a hot tub upstairs,” he said. “You want to go up there with me?”

  “Just the two of us?” I asked. “Or everybody?”

  “Just you and me.”

  “Then I’m in,” I said.

  We put on our bathing suits, grabbed towels, and took the elevator up to the top floor, where three hot tubs sat in front of glass windows that faced the slopes. It had started to snow by then, and it was very romantic, sitting there in the hot water with the snow falling outside, just me and Mike.

  “How was skiing?” I asked.

  “Super,” he said. Then he stopped. “Well, not quite so super, I guess. Phil is a real klutz, and he kept falling, so he and Vinnie had to stick to the green runs. Chris and I spent most of the afternoon on the blue, and it took me a while to get my rhythm back. By the end of the day we took one black diamond. It was scary but awesome.”

  He leaned back against the wall of the spa. “I think you should start out tomorrow in ski school,” he said. “They’ll get you going on the bunny slopes.”

  “We’re not going to ski together?”

  “It would be like us surfing together,” he said. “You’d want the big waves, and I’d want the easy ones.”

  “But we do surf together,” I said, though I couldn’t remember the last time we had.

  “And I can tell you’re bored,” he said. “Maybe at the end of the day, once you can do the green slopes, I’ll take a couple of runs with you.”

  I hadn’t realized that the difference in our skill levels meant that we’d be spending most of our time apart. I was cranky about that.

  “How was your day?” Mike asked.

  “Okay. I walked around with Jenny for a while. She is seriously unhappy.”

  “So is Chris. I feel bad for them. He works so hard to support them, and she doesn’t even clean the house. They have a maid.”

  “Isn’t she busy with the kids?”

  “He says they go off to school in the morning and then stay late for extracurricular stuff, so they don’t get home until dinner time. Most days Jenny just makes herself a salad and then feeds them TV dinners and takeout pizza.”

  “I don’t want to talk about them anymore.” I let my leg stray over to touch against Mike’s. “They’re harshing my mellow.”

  We were smiling at each other when Vinnie stuck his head in the door. “Come on, you guys. We’re going to dinner.”

  We dried off, then followed Vinnie downstairs, where we took quick showers and dressed for dinner. Jenny and I had found a steak restaurant that also served vegetarian dishes, and we all walked there. It was weird the way the snow evaporated as it hit the heated sidewalks, yet piled up around them.

  Dinner was pleasant; everyone got along and I thought maybe this could turn out to be a fun vacation after all, even though I was chilled to the bone every time I stepped outside.

  By the time we got back to the condo, though, Chris and Jenny were fighting again, and Mike and I retreated to our room. “You’re signed up for lessons tomorrow, right?” Mike asked.

  “Yup. Me and a bunch of little kids, probably.”

  “Let me show you a couple of moves, so you’re prepared. Stand over here.”

  “Mike. I’ll just take the lessons, all right?”

  “I know how to make this interesting for you.” He pulled off his long-sleeved turtleneck shirt and the thermal T-shirt underneath it. “Go on, what are you waiting for?”

  So we were doing these lessons naked? Well, that would indeed be more interesting. It took us both a couple of minutes to remove all those layers.

  “Now, pretend I’m your instructor,” Mike said.

  “Will my instructor be naked tomorrow? Because it seems like it would be really cold to learn skiing that way.”

  “Shut up and pay attention, numbnuts,” he said, as he smiled. “First of all, it’s awkward to walk in your ski boots. You want to take long steps, stepping heel to toe with your lower leg straight.”

  He demonstrated, but I was paying more attention to the way his half-hard dick bobbed as he walked. “Now you do it,” he said.

  Of course I didn’t get it right, because I’d been distracted. “No, K-Man. Pay attention.” He took hold of my thigh, holding my leg straight, and pushing down on my heel.

  My dick began to stiffen from his touch. I tried to concentrate on the movements, remembering it was going to be freezing outside, and my erection subsided.

  “Now, when you go to put your skis on, you want them to point in the same direction, about a foot apart. Stick the poles in the snow on each side of the skis, up by the front edge of the binding. Got it?”

  I nodded.

  “To walk, you keep the skis parallel and push yourself forward with the poles.” He mimed stabbing the poles into the snow angled backward. “The angle lets you put the weight on your shoulders rather than your forearms.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. He looked so goofy that way, his dick nestled in his pubic hair, his body tilted. “Keep laughing, surfer boy,” he said. “When you fall on your ass I’m going to take a video and post it online.”

  “I get it. I’ve got my boots and my skis on and I’m walking to the slope. How do I actually ski?”

  “You bend your knees so your shins rest on the front of the boots and lean forward slightly.” I bent, but not correctly, and he stepped behind me and forced me into the proper position.

  “If the instructor does this I won’t be able to concentrate on skiing,” I said, as Mike’s body pressed into mine.

  “Oh, forget it,” Mike said, and he kissed the back of my neck. “You can learn to ski on your own. Right now I just want to fuck you senseless.” He reached around with both hands and grabbed my nipples, and pressed his stiffening dick against my ass.

  We rocked back and forth like that for a minute or two. His breath was hot on my neck, his hairy chest rubbing against my smooth back, and electric shocks ran through my body. “I could get into this skiing thing,” I said, my voice a little hoarse.

  “As long as you only get into it this way with me,” Mike said. He twisted my nipples and I bucked back against him.

  My pulse was racing. “I don’t know. Are the ski instructors sexy? They say variety is the spice of life.”

  “I’ll give you variety,” Mike said, and he plunged his dick into my ass, his precome acting as lube.

  I yelped at the pain but he pinched my nipples again and my endorphin level soared. “Keep it down,” Mike said into my ear. “We don’t want everyone to know what we’re doing.”

  “Why not? Maybe Vinnie and Phil will join us. Chris, too, if Jenny’s not putting out.”

  “I’m more man than you can handle, buddy,” Mike said. He pulled back. “Christ, I’m getting old. Can’t hold that position for too long. Get on the bed with your ass in the air and I’ll show you what a real man can do.”

  “Real man,” I said, panting. “I’ll show you who’s the real man in this relationship.” I turned around and tackled him, pushing him onto the bed on his back. In a quick move, I lifted his legs up and pushed them back toward his chest.

  He tried to struggle, but I said, “You think you’re the big man, always in charge. If I want you underneath me, then you’re staying right there.” I slid down so that my body rested on his, and with my right hand I positioned my dick at his ass.

  Of course, if Mike hadn’t wanted it, he could have pushed me off, and we’d have wrestled for a while, getting even sweatier and hornier. But he widened his legs and used his fingers to stretch his hole open.

  I zoomed in on the target, but I was not going to rush. I wanted to make him beg for it, and I knew I could. Instead of pushing my dick right in, I got down on my knees on the carpet and began to rim him, licking my tongue arou
nd his hole as he groaned with pleasure.

  Then I folded my tongue into a V and began pushing it inside him. I soon replaced it with my index finger, probing inside him, feeling the walls around his chute open up. “Yeah, you want it, don’t you? You’re just a big old sloppy bottom, aren’t you, Mr. Sexy Firefighter Ski Master Big Swinging Dick?”

  “Shut your mouth and fuck me, bitch,” Mike said.

  “Not until you beg for it,” I said.

  He was panting for breath, too. “Never,” he said.

  I stood up. “Okay then, I’m done. I feel like a cup of hot chocolate. You want one?”

  “Get your dick back here, K-Man.” Mike looked up at me, his eyes glazed with lust.

  I put my hands on my hips and my dick swung. Drops of pre-cum dribbled from the tip. “Say it.”

  “You’re a dickwad,” Mike said. “You get me so horny and then you just play with me. Fine. I’ll say it. Please, K-Man. Please fuck me. I need to feel your dick inside me. I need you to shoot a load against my prostate.”

  “Well, since you asked.” I grabbed his legs and slammed into him the way he’d done with me, and he howled. Then I began pistoning in and out of him, as he moaned and shimmied on the bed, both of us sweating.

  He rose to meet me, and we fucked with a passion we rarely managed after five years together. I slammed into his ass, and he yelped and pressed his dick into the towel beneath him. “Oh God, oh God,” he said, his breathing shallow.

  “You can just call me K-Man,” I said.

  My dick was on fire, swallowed up in the wet heat of his chute. He grabbed his dick and began jerking it furiously. I was breathing hard; I closed my eyes and my whole body shuddered. He shot a load on his chest; his eyes got that funny look as the pleasure ran through him, and seeing the man I loved like that was enough to toss me over the cliff. I shot a load that felt like it had enough power to pulsate all the way through his body.

  I held the position for as long as I could. Then I pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside him. “You were on fire,” he murmured.

  “Good thing you’re a trained firefighter then,” I said, still breathing hard.

  “I may need my EMT skills soon. You all right?”

  “Always perfect,” I said. “As long as I’m with you, sweetheart.”

  A few minutes later I went to the bathroom to get cleaned up, and on my way back I ran into Chris in the hallway. “Sometimes I wish I was gay,” he said, shaking his head.

  I must have blushed because he laughed. “Pity the poor straight guy,” he said. “Gay buddies getting sex right and left and I’m stuck with the ice queen.”

  I went back to Mike and cuddled up against him, happy with the man I’d chosen.

  The next morning we all trooped out to the slopes. Chris and Jenny were going to ski together and I hoped that might rekindle some of their past affection. Vinnie and Mike agreed to stay with Phil on the blue trails for a while.

  They left me at the ski school with a bunch of middle-schoolers and a couple of women in their fifties. One of the instructors, a twenty-something Nordic type who looked like he’d been skiing since he was a baby, stood up in front of us. “I’m Kurt. Welcome to Beaver Creek. How many of you have skied before?”

  I was hesitant to raise my hand because it had been so long before, but when I was the only one not to, I joined the crowd. “Good,” he said. “Get into two lines, please, and we’ll set you up with for skis.”

  When Kurt got to me, he asked my height and weight, then laid down a pair of skis on the snow. I rocked my boot into one ski the way Mike had shown me and felt pleased.

  As I stepped onto the second ski, Kurt said, “Since you’re a beginner, I’ve got you in skis in the middle range for your height. But you look pretty fit. You should be fine.”

  “I surf,” I said. “In Hawaii. Where I live. I’m just not accustomed to having all these clothes on.”

  Kurt looked at me, and I worried that he thought I was flirting with him. “You’ll manage,” he said.

  He and the other instructor took us over to a hill that was hardly as a tall as reasonable North Shore wave, and we practiced flexing our knees, leaning into turns, and snowplowing to a stop.

  It felt awkward at first, especially burdened down with the heavy jacket and boots. But Mike’s early instructions kicked in, and by mid-morning Mr. Nordic said I was ready to tackle a real run. “Take the lift up and look for the green trails.”

  He paired me up with one of the middle-schoolers and we trudged over to the chair lift, positioning ourselves and waiting for the lift to hit us in the ass.

  The view from the lift was magnificent, a vista of brilliant white snow-covered slopes, with huge clouds dotting a blue sky. But I came from a state where weather changes constantly, so I had a feeling that those clouds promised a coming blizzard.

  At the top of the mountain the middle-schooler and I hopped off the lift, and I poled my way over to the lounge, where I found Mike, Vinnie and Phil relaxing. Vinnie was a lot like Mike—a big, athletic, easy-going guy. Phil was a lot slimmer and less graceful, but the warmth that existed between them was such a contrast to the way that Jenny and Chris interacted.

  Vinnie teased Phil, but it was all good-natured, and Phil teased him right back. “See, I have problems with sports because my body isn’t well-balanced,” Phil said. “Vinnie has a small dick, and I have a big one, so that affects my coordination.”

  “TMI!” Mike said, but he laughed, and I remembered using the same expression with Jenny the day before.

  “Yours just looks bigger because you’re so skinny,” Vinnie said. “See, I have muscles where you don’t.” He looked at us. “So what about you guys? Which one of you is bigger?”

  Mike immediately said, “Don’t even go there, K-Man.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Didn’t you and Vinnie go to college together? He already knows what you’re packing, am I right?”

  Vinnie shook his head. “Mr. Riccardi here was always bashful. Whenever we worked out at the gym, he’d always leave and go back to the dorm to shower.”

  “Probably embarrassed to get a hard-on in front of you,” Phil said. “Bet you don’t feel that way now, do you?”

  Mike crossed his arms over his chest and I noticed the way his biceps bulged against his thermal shirt. “They were different times. And even now, my sexual orientation is my business. I don’t have to hide, but I don’t have to wear a rainbow T-shirt either.”

  “Oh, come on,” Phil said. He looked at Mike. “I’ll bet you’re the bottom, aren’t you? I can just see you lying on your back with your legs up in the air, and Kimo—”

  “Enough, motormouth,” Vinnie interrupted him.

  I was glad he stopped, and wondered if he’d been spying on us the night before. Mike didn’t usually love bottoming, unless he was balanced over my dick, controlling how far in I went and how fast we moved. I didn’t care what position we chose; I loved having Mike’s handsome, hairy, naked body next to me, on top of me, beneath me. I could suck him or fuck him, rub against him or give him a hand job, and it was all great; whatever he wanted to do with me was okay, too.

  I had a hard-on buried somewhere under the layers of thermal underwear and ski pants, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

  Mike turned to me. “How would you feel about tackling one of the easy slopes? They’re the ones color-coded green. I could take you down one.”

  “Taking his ski cherry,” Phil said.

  “Phil,” Mike said. “You’re married to one of my best friends, so I say this with love. Shut the fuck up before I smack you.”

  “You tell him, Mikey,” Vinnie said. “Maybe he’ll listen to you.” He turned to his husband. “You need some discipline, Philip. We’ll have to consider that tonight.”

  I turned to Mike. “I’d love to try skiing with you.”

  “Cool. Most places the green runs are at the bottom of the mountain, but here the slope is gentle at the top. You’ll get to
see the views and experience the fresh snow.”

  We left Vinnie and Phil and went back outside, where we put our skis back on and Mike led me to the beginning of a green trail.

  It was gorgeous, lots of trees around us, the slope gentle, people moving slowly. I could see how skiing could become addictive, though I’d always prefer the surf to the snow.

  When we came to the end of the run, where I could take a lift back up or we could continue down a steeper slope, Mike said, “You did great, K-Man. You want to try a blue? I’ll be right here with you.”

  Skiing used muscles I didn’t regularly flex, and I was starting to get tired, but I figured that if we got to the bottom I could just quit then. And I did want to spend time with Mike, enjoying things that he did.

  We took off together, and Mike moved way faster than I did. He kept stopping to wait for me. Then I fell and my ski binding popped. The ski slid downhill faster than I did.

  Other skiers were zooming past me. Snow was seeping into my socks and around my neck, and I was not a happy camper. Mike skied down and retrieved my loose ski, then poled his way back up to me. He reached a hand down to me and hoisted me up.

  “I feel like such a loser,” I said. “This slope isn’t even that steep, and it’s nothing for you.”

  “Give it a day or two,” he said. “You didn’t learn to surf overnight, did you? Here, let me put your ski back on.”

  He was so sweet that I couldn’t complain. We went down the rest of the slope even slower, Mike taking his time so he could stay beside me. When we finally reached the bottom I said I was going to quit, and he went back up to the black diamond trail he had tried the day before.

  Late in the afternoon it began snowing heavily, and by the time the six of us walked back from dinner drifts were piling up nearly waist-high. “If it keeps up like this we won’t get much skiing in tomorrow,” Mike said, and secretly I was glad.

  Jenny and Chris were arguing again, and when we got upstairs Mike and I went right to our room and closed the door. Mike bent over to pick something up from the floor and yelped.