Page 62 of Snowballed

When I pull into the farm driveway, all the lights are on in the barn. Zoe must be doing something in there.

I knock on the door and hear her yell, “Come on in.”

She’s working out in the makeshift gym. Zoe looks sweaty and happy, which is a hot combination. I like the messy strands of hair on her neck, the shine of her skin, and the way her damp T-shirt clings to her body.

I put my backpack down on the table and move closer.

Cookie and Rayme bleat a hello at me so I wave back.

“You know that goats don’t understand waving, right?” Zoe is sitting on old yoga mats she’s cobbled into a stretching area.

“How do you know for sure?” I sit on the weight bench beside her.

Zoe smiles. “I can’t believe what a softy you are around animals.”

“Not true. I’m a big, tough, hockey player.” In truth, I am only one of those things.

Zoe knows this too, and she laughs. Then she moves into a 90/90 stretch. Her leg positioning isn’t quite right though, and my eye twitches.

“Am I not doing this right?” she asks.

“No, you have to increase the angle on your back leg.”

“Show me,” Zoe says.

I put my hand on her quad. Through the thin fabric of her leggings, I can feel her tensed muscles. I move her leg into position and run my hand down her thigh. Zoe’s thighs are thick and strong, and I imagine them locked around my waist as I plunge my cock into her. Shit.

I remove my hands and swallow. “Perfect now.”

“Feels good,” she says.

“I know, right? A good stretch loosens up all the tight—”

“No.” Zoe looks up at me and her gaze is liquid. “I mean your hands on my body feel good.”

“Uh, yeah.” I’ve tried to give Zoe personal space given the fact that we live together, but I am ready for more if she is. “I don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“I don’t,” Zoe says before I can finish. She grabs the lapels of my jacket, pulls me towards her, and kisses me. Her mouth is open and needy, and we kiss like we’re starved for the taste of each other. We fall onto the mats together, and Zoe’s body is tight against mine. I can feel the softness of her breasts and the firmness of her thighs.

There’s an ancient space heater throwing off heat, but Zoe’s body feels even hotter. I put my hands under her T-shirt and feel the tensed muscles of her abs and then her strong back. When I reach higher, her sports bra is a complicated mess of straps.

“Take it off,” I growl.

“What off?” she asks.

“Everything.” I want to see her naked in the golden light here. To find out if the reality matches my imagination.

Zoe peels off her top and wriggles out of her shoes and leggings. I take off my jacket. Finally, she stands in front of me with only a black thong and the strappy bra, and she looks strong and sexy. I pull her legs towards me and kiss at her thighs until she spreads them.

“Fuck. You smell good,” I say. Zoe smells earthy and acrid in a way that makes my cock rise.

“I’m sweaty,” she says apologetically.

“Not as sweaty as you will be.” I want to push her limits.

I’ve been holding onto the back of her thighs, but now I run my hands up until I’m squeezing the globes of her ass. They feel fantastic, both soft and muscled. I move one hand to the front of her, rubbing against the soft fabric of her thong and feeling the soft, cropped hair underneath. I push the fabric aside. My fingers trace the outer folds of her pussy and above me Zoe gasps. I pull her forward until I can see all of her in the golden light. Her clit is fat and prominent, and when my forefinger bumps it, she cries out.

“Oh, yes.”

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