Winter Retreat - January 2018 Pinup (Patreon)

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There are clean and messy versions of this, and here's an (elaborated upon) short story accompaniment too!

Winter Retreat - The cabin Ciaran's friend, Zack, had rented for the weekend could not be more isolated or picturesque. Nestled between snowy hills and accessible only by snowmobile, their only neighbours for miles were some pine trees and arctic hares. The cabin itself stood a thing of rustic fairy tale glory - wooden and three stories with balconies overlooking the pine valley. The living room, in which he sat amongst friends and many people he hadn't met, had high ceilings with exposed beams and a monstrous stone fireplace, currently alight and roaring. It heated the room so well that the snowy view out the floor-to-ceiling windows seemed an untouched upon alternate universe. The squashy armchair Ciaran sunk into nearly swallowed him. Beer in hand, he looked forward to an evening of card games, drinking and late night snowball fights.

Until she walked through the door. Snow drifting in after her, she scuffed her paws on the welcome matt and gave an exaggerated shiver. She wore jeans that hugged the curves of strong thighs and hips. Her gray and cream fur was accented with bits of caramel. As she shucked her jacket, Ciaran also got a glimpse of more curves under her clingy sweater.

Zack, pillowed between two cats Ciaran didn't know, raised his beer in the air and shouted, "Runa! You made it!"

"Barely!" she laughed, unwrapping her scarf and hanging it on a peg by the door. When she turned back around, her eyes caught on Ciaran's stare and held for a little too long before he caught himself and snapped his attention back to Zack.

Zack said, "I don't think you've met Ciaran." Runa ambled over, still wearing her toque.

"No, I haven't. I'm Runa," she said, smiling cheekily.

"Ciaran," he thought he answered, though his voice came out a little lower than intended. He cleared his throat. Runa looked around at the lack of available sitting and pointed to the arm of his chair.

"Mind if I join you?"

He shuffled over and gestured for her to sit. She did so in that overly precious way strangers did in order to avoid touching one another. Ciaran tried to think of something witty or interesting to say and came up completely dry. He needn't have bothered though, because Zack had procured a deck of cards from the coffee table.

"Who wants to play?" he demanded, already dealing out hands.

A game should have been the perfect opening for playful banter or teaming up, but Ciaran found his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth, except when Runa asked him to pass a beer from the cooler and he said, as cooly as possible, "'course." More beer should have helped loosen his tongue too, but it only made him too warm and overly aware of the few times Runa would lean over to speak to Zack or one of the cats and her breasts came close enough to brush his shoulder.

"You're awfully quiet!" Zack said at one point. "Is it because you're losing?"

Ciaran was losing. He couldn't concentrate. It wasn't as though Runa were the first pretty girl he'd laid eyes on, but she had a certain cool and calm way about her that made her seem intimidating. She smelled like honeydew and fresh snow. Maybe it was the beer, but Ciaran's head kept venturing into visions and fantasies that were no good for his focus. He'd love to say it was all the beer actually, but the reality was far more crass - she was achingly gorgeous, and he had been single for a good six months.

Something sharp jabbed him in the side and pulled him from his reverie. He glanced down and saw that, hidden between them, Runa had snuck a card from her deck and was subtly pressing it into his ribs. He took it questioningly and saw as he added it to his hand that it completed the set he'd been trying to achieve. He glanced up at her but Runa was looking at Zack and laughing a little at something he'd said. In her hand though, she'd twisted her cards just a little. Just enough that he could see she had three of a kind.

And he had the fourth.

In the same manner she had, he slipped her the card. The trade made, Ciaran and Runa scraped first and second respectively out of the round, raking in just enough points to pull even with the cats as the middling competitors.

From there on in, the game changed. Runa still barely said boo to him, but that made it all the more convincing that their luck had simply changed. Cheating had never seemed so illicit. At one point, Runa and Zack were carrying on such a long conversation that, in order to avoid Zack seeing her trade cards, she leaned against Ciaran's shoulder and slipped the card down the back of his sweater instead. The trail of her fingers on the nape of his neck and the way she leaned her weight into him made the room seem sweltering.

If Runa was playing him too in order to win - and she was - he didn't care. The subterfuge of their wordless agreement was thrill and reward in and of itself. And if she touched him more often in the passing of cards, that was bonus too.

"What an underdog!" Zack howled, slapping his cards down as Runa was proclaimed winner. "Coming up from the back of the pack!"

Runa shrugged and said, "beginner's luck."

As the others bustled out to the kitchen for snacks and a refill on drinks, Runa leaned close and whispered in Ciaran's ear, "that was fun."

Ciaran finally found his voice. "We make an alright team," he agreed. "You could have passed me the king of hearts last hand, though."

Runa wrinkled her nose, "where'd be the fun in letting you win? The cheating was my idea."

The buzz of drink and heat of the room made him bold. He leaned against the arm of the chair, his arm resting along her thigh. "I could tell them."

"Dirty rat," Runa said. Then her tone roughened a little. "I could make it up to you."

A shout and a squeal from the kitchen, then glass shattering. "PARTY FOUL!" they heard Zack shout.

"Quick," Runa whispered, "while they're distracted." With a tug, she ushered Ciaran out of his armchair and towards the door. Ciaran grabbed his scarf on the way out but Runa tugged him impatiently by the jeans. A part of Ciaran knew from the insistency of her touch what was happening, but another part of him did not dare to believe it.

Runa pulled him out the door and into the frigid night air. The cold hit him and sharpened the fuzzy edges of his buzz. "Where are we going?" he asked as she led him down the hill and past the trees. "Not far," she answered. "Over these hills a bit should be fine, right?"

Once they could no longer hear the revelry of their friends in the cabin, she turned abruptly and kissed him. He balked, shocked at her forwardness, but his body reacted quicker than his mind could. Her tongue slipped warm against the press of his lips and into his mouth. His stomach hitched in surprise at the sudden intimacy, at the heat of her hands as they plunged under his clothes. Was she serious? Out here in the frigid snow, she wanted to-

He could have no doubt about it when, soon as she had his shirt off, she started unbuttoning her jeans. "Come on, before they notice we're gone," she said. The fever pitch of her voice gave sudden clarity to the moment. Yes, she really did intend to fuck him out here in the cold.

He started undoing his jeans, tripped a little and stumbled into her. Runa gave a startled cry and toppled backward into the snowbank, pulling him down with her. She already had her jeans mostly off and was kicking the rest down one leg. Ciaran's hands shuddered on her hips, smoothed up her soft fur and under her sweater. It folded up and over her breasts with the motion, the cold air pursing the rosy pink of her nipples into buds. Her narrow waist tapered and then widened to full hips, thighs spread wide on the blanket of snow. Between them, her pussy was warm and blushing with arousal, shiny where her lips met. It was cold, but he found as he pulled on his cock a couple times that he barely felt it.

Runa snatched the end of his scarf and pulled him down closer. Lying over her, Ciaran fumbled his cock into the cleft of her pussy lips, shuddering in near physical pain at how hot she felt compared with the winter air.

Runa gave an impatient whine, said "Hurry, before they notice we're go-" and he sank his solid length into her heat. "Ah! Yes. Oh yes! Like that," she moaned. Ciaran thrust into her eagerly, right there in the snow, too far from the cabin for their friends to hear Runa's heated cries of pleasure. She wrapped her thick thighs around his hips and urged him on. Her fingers gripped his shoulders and dug in. Against the snowy backdrop, her body heaved with the force of his every thrust. Her breasts swayed with the motion, pert and perfect as she arched her back and pressed back into the penetration. The warmth of her was all-consuming - more comforting than the heat of the fireplace in the cabin. He felt it bone deep, through the ache of pleasure in his cock as it plunged in and out of her. It was only as she gave a sudden, shuddering buck and her pussy pulsed around his girth that he realized she was cumming, and he was going to as well. He tried to pull out before - but it was a second too late. Cum dripped from between her lips and streaked his cock in places.

Apologies streaming from his lips, he unthinkingly leant down and began lapping the mess from her before it could freeze. He could only imagine what kind of a mood killer that would be - but to his surprise Runa giggled. Breathlessly and clutching her chest, her laughter ghosted out of her in plumes of white fog on the air.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"It's just, that's sweet!" She couldn't help it and laughed again. He sat back, still confused, pulling his sweater over from where it lay in the snow and pulling it on. It was freezing. "People aren't usually sweet during quickies," she elaborated, getting dressed as well. Her giggles petered out. They started heading back towards the cabin, and as they did, Runa snagged Ciaran's hand and squeezed.

"We should see if we can sneak away again."

"Yeah?" Ciaran couldn't help the note of hope in his voice. His embarrassment over cumming in her without asking and then licking up the evidence still made his cheeks burn, but if anything Runa seemed endeared by it.

"We don't have to worry about any little fawns or puppies," she told him matter of factly, stepping into the door. Luckily, their companions were still in the kitchen where they'd left them. Ciaran let out a sigh of relief as they settled back into the armchair, Runa flicking snow out of his fur. Zack and the rest returned in the nick of time, just as Runa leaned over to whisper in his ear, "if it makes you feel better, I can tell you where I want you to finish next time."

Ciaran couldn't speak for the next hour. His brain was thoroughly hooked on the words, 'next time.'