Snow Bunny Slut

The powder sprayed this way and that as I maneuvered. The tree trunks began crowding in tighter as I went, but it was exhilarating. Light from the overcast sky filtered shyly through the thick pines – enough to light my way, but maintaining a bit of mystery for what was ahead.

I was no Olympic skier, but I could hold my own on the slopes. What I most loved, though, was fresh powder in the trees like this. It may be a little hazardous, but goddamn, is it fun!

It was exactly at that point, as if to underscore the hazards, that he came flying in out of control. A wild scream of "Oh shit!" gave me just enough warning to brace for the impact.

Out of all the forest space on the mountain, some dumbass had run directly into me.

Spitting out a face full of snow, I rolled slowly over. The side of my thigh throbbed angrily where it had greeted a narrow ponderosa.

"Ugh...fuck me," I heard from over my shoulder. The guy who had run me down was eating just as much powder as I, and had apparently come to rest with a shoulder against a tree. "Uuughhh..."

I rose gingerly, my ski boots sinking into the fresh powder. Fortunately my skis had wound up sticking out of the snow rather than coasting aimlessly down the mountain. I stumbled toward my assailant. "You alive over there?"

He started as though he'd forgotten I was there. "I...um...ow." He was struggling in vain to push himself out of the loose powder with one undamaged arm. "I guess I hit you, didn't I?"

"That y'did, genius." It came out a bit harsher than I intended. The guy was in a puffy jacket that looked too short for skiing. And I think his beanie was cotton. Genius, indeed.

"Sorry about that." This time he got his knees under him and righted himself. The morning's sparkling crystals coated his face and matted his beard. It was actually pretty comical, and I giggled in spite of myself.

"Well, you look like Santa Claus, so you got that going for you," I snickered. "Except Santa would probably wear a better coat." Even as he wiped his face I could see all the snow that had gotten stuffed down the neck of his cheap jacket when he took a dive. He'd be feeling it soon for sure. Dude was definitely some city-slicker here for vacation.

With most of the snow off his face, I could now see he was a good-looking city-slicker, so he had that going for him too. I chuckled again at my own lame sense of humor.

"Sorry," he said again, "are you ok?"

"I took a good spill there, but I'll probably make it."

"Yeah, didn't mean to do that. I got a bit too fast and couldn't stop." He was trying not to show how much his shoulder hurt. It was cute, if a bit silly.

"Well, I should hope you didn't mean to. Did you mean to stuff your shirt with snow too?"

He looked down and said, "Shit, I guess I got that pretty good. I'll be alright."

"If that's a cotton undershirt, I wouldn't be so sure about that." He clearly had no idea how to dress for cold.

"What?"

"Cotton, man. You don't wear cotton in the cold. And I think one of your skis took off for a scenic tour. It's gonna be a while before you warm up." I was already reaching to unzip his jacket. "Here, get all that snow out first."

City-boy followed my lead. He opened up the jacket and lifted the two under-layers one by one to shake them out.

...which gave me my first look at his body. Let's just say it was the type that would not leave you satisfied with only a 'first look.'