White Embrace, Silent Fall

My, the first snowfall of the year is peaceful,” I was thinking to myself that afternoon. The flakes drifted down silently, coating everything in a pristine white blanket, and a strange sense of calm washed over me. It wasn’t just the beauty of the falling snow, but the unexpected stillness of the day, a welcome respite from the usual hustle and bustle. As I watched, a thought, a particularly insistent one, wormed its way into my mind – a suggestion that felt both daring and thrilling.

That thought crossed my mind as I watched the first snow of the year fall gently on top of me. On my back, in my driveway, as I was trying to shovel away the first snowfall of the year. The cold bit into my exposed skin, but the sheer absurdity of the situation, coupled with the tantalizing thought that had sparked it, made me laugh. I laid there for some time, letting the snow accumulate, savoring the moment of unexpected vulnerability. One minute, I was pushing snow, battling against the elements, the next, I was looking skyward, lost in a world of white.

“Are you OK?” I heard a voice call out from the distance. It was Sandra, my wife, her voice laced with concern. She had a jacket wrapped around her shoulders, her beautiful, shoulder-length brown hair blowing in the wind, and a worried expression on her face. I slowly made my way to my feet, carefully testing my limbs to ensure everything was still in one piece. The fall hadn’t been graceful, but thankfully, I had avoided any serious injury.

Looking around, I saw Sandra approaching, her pace quickened by the cold. She came over and grabbed my arm, her touch sending a shiver down my spine. “I think so,” I said, trying to move my arms and shoulders. “I am not finding anything broken.” Sandra was smiling now, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I saw you take the header from the kitchen,” she said. “It was an impressive fall.” She paused and then giggled. “Especially for how old you are.”

I gave her a semi-sour look. “Glad to provide the entertainment.” Sandra was shivering now, her teeth chattering. She lightly kissed my cheek. “Hurry inside,” she said. “You shoveled the best you could and it is still snowing. Come on inside and get warm.” As Sandra left, I picked up my shovel, which I had dropped when falling, and pushed away some more snow. I decided enough was enough. I gingerly walked from the driveway through the garage into the kitchen. The light and warmth of the house started to soothe my aching body. Seeing Sandra complete the task, she was wearing jeans and wool socks. Her brown hair fell gently on her shoulders. She was wearing a buttoned-down denim shirt, the top three buttons undone. I could see the familiar freckles dotting her bosom.

“How is my injured snow man?” asked Sandra as she smiled. She handed me a hot cup of cocoa and led me in to the living room couch. “Take a seat and rest up. Once it stops snowing, you will have to go out again.” I sat wearily on the surface of the leather couch, glad to be sitting down and glad to be inside the warmth of the house. The view wasn't so bad either. I watched from across the room as Sandra bent down to turn on the electric fireplace — her backside to me — and then walk back to the couch. Sandra laid down horizontal on the other side with her legs extending onto me, her feet on my lap. “How are you feeling now?” she said in her soft, angelic voice. “That was a pretty nasty spill you took out there.”

I laughed, “It only hurts when I move.” Sandra shot me a sly grin, “My hardy man of winter.” We sat in silence for a while, watching the snow and feeling the warmth from the fireplace and from each other. After I finished my hot drink, I looked over to see Sandra quietly dozing, her head nestled gently in the crook of her bent elbow. I absentmindedly began to gently rub her feet through her socks. I took my time. My hands slowly moved up and down the bottom of one foot and then the other. I rubbed slowly from top to bottom and then back again. I also began to extend my touch to her ankles and eventually under her pant leg to her lower calf. The rubbing went on for several minutes. Quietly and without expectation of anything else. I was content, happy, and feeling better.

“It is me who should be doing that to you,” said Sandra as she started to stir. “You are the one that did all the work outside.” I kept rubbing her feet. “I am fine,” I said. “The longer I do this, the longer I don’t have to go outside. This beats shoveling.” Sandra pulled her feet off my lap, pulled the socks off and swung them to the floor. As she stood up, she said, “I can do waaaaay better than that.”

My wife walked to a spot in front of the couch in front me. Smiling that beautiful smile, Sandra began to slowly undress. She carefully unbuttoned her shirt as I watched with growing arousal. Each button was slowly undone. She used her hands to separate the sides of the shirt. Sandra pulled the shirt off of her shoulders and her arms. Reaching behind her, Sandra unhooked the clasps of her bra and jerked it away. I could see her beautiful breasts and the nipples on them start to stiffen. Next came the jeans. I saw first, then heard, the buttons on her jeans be unhooked and the zipper be pulled down. Sandra pushed the pants off her legs. She stood there in cream colored panties. Those too were quickly removed leaving my beloved in all her physical beauty. It was a sight that never got old.

As she walked over to the couch and cuddled close to me, I asked, “And this is happening why?” Sandra laughed, tossing her beautiful brown hair over her shoulders. “You worked hard out in that snow today,” she said rubbing my leg, “You are cold, tired, and sore. I figured you have earned it.” Especially at your age.” I gave her a semi-sour look. “Glad to provide the entertainment.” Sandra was shivering now. She lightly kissed my cheek. “Hurry inside,” she said. “You shoveled the best you could and it is still snowing. Come on inside and get warm.” As Sandra left I picked up my shovel which I had dropped when falling. I pushed away some more snow and decided enough was enough. I gingerly walked from the driveway through the garage into the kitchen. The light and warmth of the house started to soothe my aching body. Seeing Sandra complete the task, she was wearing jeans and wool socks. Her brown hair fell gently on her shoulders. She was wearing a buttoned-down denim shirt, the top three buttons were undone. I could see the familiar freckles dot the area about her bosom. “How is my injured snow man?” asked Sandra as she smiled. She handed me a hot cup of cocoa and led me in to the living room couch. “Take a seat and rest up. Once it stops snowing, you will have to go out again.”

I sat wearily on the surface of the leather couch; glad to be sitting down and glad to be inside the warmth of the house. The view wasn’t so bad either. I watched from across the room as Sandra bent down to turn on the electric fireplace — her backside to me — and then walk back to the couch. Sandra laid down horizontal on the other side with her legs extending onto me, her feet on my lap. “How are you feeling now?” she said in her soft, angelic voice. “That was a pretty nasty spill you took out there.” I laughed, “It only hurts when I move.” Sandra shot me a sly grin, “My hardy man of winter.” We sat in silence for a while, watching the snow and feeling the warmth from the fireplace and from each other. After I finished my hot drink, I looked over to see Sandra quietly dozing, her head nestled gently in the crook of her bent elbow. I absentmindedly began to gently rub her feet through her socks. I took my time. My hands slowly moved up and down the bottom of one foot and then the other. I rubbed slowly from top to bottom and then back again. I also began to extend my touch to her ankles and eventually under her pant leg to her lower calf. The rubbing went on for several minutes. Quietly and without expectation of anything else. I was content, happy, and feeling better. “It is me who should be doing that to you,” said Sandra as she started to stir. “You are the one that did all the work outside.” I kept rubbing her feet. “I am fine,” I said. “The longer I do this, the longer I don’t have to go outside. This beats shoveling.” Sandra pulled her feet off my lap, pulled the socks off and swung them to the floor. As she stood up, she said, “I can do waaaaay better than that.”

My wife walked to a spot in front of the couch in front me. Smiling that beautiful smile, Sandra began to slowly undress. She carefully unbuttoned her shirt as I watched with growing arousal. Each button was slowly undone. She used her hands to separate the sides of the shirt. Sandra pulled the shirt off of her shoulders and her arms. Reaching behind her, Sandra unhooked the clasps of her bra and jerked it away. I could see her beautiful breasts and the nipples on them start to stiffen. Next came the jeans. I saw first, then heard, the buttons on her jeans be unhooked and the zipper be pulled down. Sandra pushed the pants off her legs. She stood there in cream colored panties. Those too were quickly removed leaving my beloved in all her physical beauty. It was a sight that never got old.

As she walked over to the couch and cuddled close to me, I asked, “And this is happening why?” Sandra laughed, tossing her beautiful brown hair over her shoulders. “You worked hard out in that snow today,” she said rubbing my leg, “You are cold, tired and sore. I figured you have earned it.” Especially at your age.” I gave her a semi-sour look. “Glad to provide the entertainment.” Sandra was shivering now. She lightly kissed my cheek. “Hurry inside,” she said. “You shoveled the best you could and it is still snowing. Come on inside and get warm.” As Sandra left I picked up my shovel which I had dropped when falling. I pushed away some more snow and decided enough was enough. I gingerly walked from the driveway through the garage into the kitchen. The light and warmth of the house started to soothe my aching body. Seeing Sandra complete the task, she was wearing jeans and wool socks. Her brown hair fell gently on her shoulders. She was wearing a buttoned-down denim shirt, the top three buttons were undone. I could see the familiar freckles dot the area about her bosom. “How is my injured snow man?” asked Sandra as she smiled. She handed me a hot cup of cocoa and led me in to the living room couch. “Take a seat and rest up. Once it stops snowing, you will have to go out again.”

I sat wearily on the surface of the leather couch; glad to be sitting down and glad to be inside the warmth of the house. The view wasn’t so bad either. I watched from across the room as Sandra bent down to turn on the electric fireplace — her backside to me — and then walk back to the couch. Sandra laid down horizontal on the other side with her legs extending onto me, her feet on my lap. “How are you feeling now?” she said in her soft, angelic voice. “That was a pretty nasty spill you took out there.” I laughed, “It only hurts when I move.” Sandra shot me a sly grin, “My hardy man of winter.” We sat in silence for a while, watching the snow and feeling the warmth from the fireplace and from each other. After I finished my hot drink, I looked over to see Sandra quietly dozing, her head nestled gently in the crook of her bent elbow. I absentmindedly began to gently rub her feet through her socks. I took my time. My hands slowly moved up and down the bottom of one foot and then the other. I rubbed slowly from top to bottom and then back again. I also began to extend my touch to her ankles and eventually under her pant leg to her lower calf. The rubbing went on for several minutes. Quietly and without expectation of anything else. I was content, happy, and feeling better. “It is me who should be doing that to you,” said Sandra as she started to stir. “You are the one that did all the work outside.” I kept rubbing her feet. “I am fine,” I said. “The longer I do this, the longer I don’t have to go outside. This beats shoveling.” Sandra pulled her feet off my lap, pulled the socks off and swung them to the floor. As she stood up, she said, “I can do waaaaay better than that.”

My wife walked to a spot in front of the couch in front me. Smiling that beautiful smile, Sandra began to slowly undress. She carefully unbuttoned her shirt as I watched with growing arousal. Each button was slowly undone. She used her hands to separate the sides of the shirt. Sandra pulled the shirt off of her shoulders and her arms. Reaching behind her, Sandra unhooked the clasps of her bra and jerked it away. I could see her beautiful breasts and the nipples on them start to stiffen. Next came the jeans. I saw first, then heard, the buttons on her jeans be unhooked and the zipper be pulled down. Sandra pushed the pants off her legs. She stood there in cream colored panties. Those too were quickly removed leaving my beloved in all her physical beauty. It was a sight that never got old.

As she walked over to the couch and cuddled close to me, I asked, “And this is happening why?” Sandra laughed, tossing her beautiful brown hair over her shoulders. “You worked hard out in that snow today,” she said rubbing my leg, “You are cold, tired and sore. I figured you have earned it.” Especially at your age.” I gave her a semi-sour look. “Glad to provide the entertainment.” Sandra was shivering now. She lightly kissed my cheek. “Hurry inside,” she said. “You shoveled the best you could and it is still snowing. Come on inside and get warm.” As Sandra left I picked up my shovel which I had dropped when falling. I pushed away some more snow and decided enough was enough. I gingerly walked from the driveway through the garage into the kitchen. The light and warmth of the house started to soothe my aching body. Seeing Sandra complete the task, she was wearing jeans and wool socks. Her brown hair fell gently on her shoulders. She was wearing a buttoned-down denim shirt, the top three buttons were undone. I could see the familiar freckles dot the area about her bosom. “How is my injured snow man?” asked Sandra as she smiled. She handed me a hot cup of cocoa and led me in to the living room couch. “Take a seat and rest up. Once it stops snowing, you will have to go out again.”

I sat wearily on the surface of the leather couch; glad to be sitting down and glad to be inside the warmth of the house. The view wasn’t so bad either. I watched from across the room as Sandra bent down to turn on the electric fireplace — her backside to me — and then walk back to the couch. Sandra laid down horizontal on the other side with her legs extending onto me, her feet on my lap. “How are you feeling now?” she said in her soft, angelic voice. “That was a pretty nasty spill you took out there.” I laughed, “It only hurts when I move.” Sandra shot me a sly grin, “My hardy man of winter.” We sat in silence for a while, watching the snow and feeling the warmth from the fireplace and from each other. After I finished my hot drink, I looked over to see Sandra quietly dozing, her head nestled gently in the crook of her bent elbow. I absentmindedly began to gently rub her feet through her socks. I took my time. My hands slowly moved up and down the bottom of one foot and then the other. I rubbed slowly from top to bottom and then back again. I also began to extend my touch to her ankles and eventually under her pant leg to her lower calf. The rubbing went on for several minutes. Quietly and without expectation of anything else. I was content, happy, and feeling better. “It is me who should be doing that to you,” said Sandra as she started to stir. “You are the one that did all the work outside.” I kept rubbing her feet. “I am fine,” I said. “The longer I do this, the longer I don’t have to go outside. This beats shoveling.” Sandra pulled her feet off my lap, pulled the socks off and swung them to the floor. As she stood up, she said, “I can do waaaaay better than that.”

My wife walked to a spot in front of the couch in front me. Smiling that beautiful smile, Sandra began to slowly undress. She carefully unbuttoned her shirt as I watched with growing arousal. Each button was slowly undone. She used her hands to separate the sides of the shirt. Sandra pulled the shirt off of her shoulders and her arms. Reaching behind her, Sandra unhooked the clasps of her bra and jerked it away. I could see her beautiful breasts and the nipples on them start to stiffen. Next came the jeans. I saw first, then heard, the buttons on her jeans be unhooked and the zipper be pulled down. Sandra pushed the pants off her legs. She stood there in cream colored panties. Those too were quickly removed leaving my beloved in all her physical beauty. It was a sight that never got old.

As she walked over to the couch and cuddled close to me, I asked, “And this is happening why?” Sandra laughed, tossing her beautiful brown hair over her shoulders. “You worked hard out in that snow today,” she said rubbing my leg, “You are cold, tired and sore. I figured you have earned it.” Especially at your age.” I gave her a semi-sour look. “Glad to provide the entertainment.” Sandra was shivering now. She lightly kissed my cheek. “Hurry inside,” she said. “You shoveled the best you could and it is still snowing. Come on inside and get warm.” As Sandra left I picked up my shovel which I had dropped when falling. I pushed away some more snow and decided enough was enough. I gingerly walked from the driveway through the garage into the kitchen. The light and warmth of the house started to soothe my aching body. Seeing Sandra complete the task, she was wearing jeans and wool socks. Her brown hair fell gently on her shoulders. She was wearing a buttoned-down denim shirt, the top three buttons were undone. I could see the familiar freckles dot the area about her bosom. “How is my injured snow man?” asked Sandra as she smiled. She handed me a hot cup of cocoa and

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White Embrace, Silent Fall

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