I’m with the girl, in the hot tub on the back porch of the cabin we all rented for the weekend. It’s winter and either snow still falls or it ceased just a few moments ago, but the ground is covered in white. We walked out from the party in our bathing suits, each draped in a towel to assist in the cold journey from the back door to the bubbling bath. Feet sinking in snow.
I melt in the water. The jets and the temperature ease my muscles and bones into a state of complete bliss. A plane of ecstasy. The gathering of old friends and alcohol proved more taxing than I’d imagined, but I put my head back and relax. The cold kisses my nose as I gaze up at the stars through the rising steam.
And my feet meet the girls’ beneath the surface. They touch and bump amongst the jets at the base of the tub. Then I feel a hand on my thigh. And my stomach. Then around the back of my neck as her body settles in on my lap.
I break my gaze with the stars to see her. “I thought we said no more of this.”
She’s smirking. With that flick in her eye that has always implied she wants something. “What do you think we’re doing out here?”
And I’m getting aroused the more her hips press into me and the more her lips graze my ear, but I still manage to say, “Sitting in the hot tub.”
“That doesn’t have to be all we’re doing.” And with her slow pulses she’s created this rhythmic wave of the water that hits me in the chin every other moment.
“And at the same time, we don’t need to do anything else.”
Her body goes rigged. I can feel her thighs stiffen as the motion stops. The waves do another lap then settle into the mass of chaotic bubbles gathering in the center of the tub.
I open my mouth to say something else, maybe repair the damage, but she’s moving. Away from me. Out of the tub. And into the snow.
I quickly grab her towel and hold it in an outstretched arm. “Your towel,” I call.
She pauses, with her back to me. “I don’t need it,” she says titling her head back for a view of the moon. “It’s not so cold anymore.”
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