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High in the Colorado mountains, where the air is thin and the winters are long, snow piles deep long into what most consider spring. When some people are out deepening their tan and sporting their skimpiest bikinis in the sun and sand, Sorel boots and heavy coats are still required out in the Colorado sunshine.
That doesn’t mean that Flip doesn’t enjoy taking his girl away for a nice spring break of their own. Flip always makes it a point to treat his girl right and spend as much as he can making her laugh and smile during the day, and scream his name during the night. If that means booking a suite at a fancy ass ski lodge in one of Colorado’s ritziest mountain towns because that’s what she wants, then that’s exactly what Flip does to show her a nice time.
Telluride, Colorado. Home to world famous views, alpine splendor, and also a fair amount of rich and entitled yuppy tourists, all at around 9,000 feet. Flip had booked a room at a resort styled after a classic Swiss ski lodge. Seated in the mountains, the lodge was ski in/ski out, meaning that guests could access a ski lift right from the lobby and ski right back to their own building, if they so desired. Also featured was a luxurious view of the snowy landscape that was easily visible through expansive windows without having to leave the comfort of your king-sized bed, and a private balcony with a hottub.
Not that the two of you had much use for the balcony hottub. Part of the resort was attached to a natural hot springs, the likes of which could be found throughout the state. Nestled between the mountain peaks were a series of small rock-encased pools, all fed by natural hot springs that bubbled from the earth. They ranged in size from little more than a private, personal-use hottub to the size of a conventional swimming pool, and ranged in temperature from the mid-nineties to up over one-hundred and ten. The hot springs were especially appealing in the cold months when the steam would rise from the pools and waft sensually around its occupants.
After a long day on the slopes or even a day out strolling through town or driving the winding roads, there was little that felt better than unwinding in the steaming pools and letting the hot mineral water soothe sore muscles and wash away tension. Flip loved the feeling of being submerged in the searing water while frost formed in segments of his dark hair, and he held his girl in his lap, taking turns massaging each other’s shoulders.
Near the resort was the town’s favorite bar, a relic from the days of the gold rush, still fashioned in its original style of an old west saloon. This is where you and Flip found yourselves on your first evening upon arriving at the resort, opting to have a few drinks before deciding if you would retire to your room for the remainder of the night or have a soak in the hot springs.
Tourists and guests were mostly comprised of skiers and snowboarders, the snowbirds and bunnies who would come and go from week to week. The town’s locals were mostly ranchers, lumberjacks, and craftsman who had little use for the seasonal influx of yuppies and dandies. Flip belonged to the local group himself, having little tolerance for the throngs of tourists the mountains drew.
Not to mention the damned college kids on spring break, who all seemed to crawl out of the woodwork with the sole intention of making Flip’s life hell while setting new records for doing the dumbest shit they could fathom with the highest blood alcohol content they could stomach.
The bar was smoky and boisterous, filled with the laughter and good humor of people on vacation away from their troubles. You looked at your own smiling reflection in the enormous mirror behind the bar as you sat on a tall stool with Flip at the edge of the bar. Snippets of conversations floated in the air, wafting around you mingling with the smoke and the notes of the live band.
Three local working men sat at a round table that was too small for the group of them. Two of the men were engaged in a grunting arm wrestling match, while the third seemed to egg both on.
Toward the back of the bar, a group of rowdy college boys laughed too loudly and hollered amongst themselves, seemingly engaged in a bet as to which unlucky woman they would accost next.
You were perched upon your stool with Flip standing close beside you, leaning on the bar top with one elbow and ignoring the vacant stool beside him. He nursed a stout beer while leaning in to kiss your lips or growl playfully lewd remarks into your ear. He was in a good mood, grinning at you and purring his sarcastic observations of the bar to you as he rested his free hand on your thigh.
“I’m tryin’ to decide if it should be my goal to make it so your voice is hoarse by Monday, or make it so you have a hard time walkin’ straight,” Flip teased low for only you to hear, his voice as smoky as the air in the bar.
“Maybe I’ll give a prize if you’re able to do both,” you returned, lifting your hand to stroke his broad flannel-clad chest.
Grinning at your counteroffer, Flip leaned in to kiss you deeply. You could taste the beer and anticipation on his tongue when he licked into your mouth, undeterred by the crass wolf whistle that sounded from one of the college boys.
Just as Flip broke your kiss, a round of cheers erupted throughout the bar. For a moment, you thought it was in response to Flip kissing you so passionately, until you saw a large burly man with a black beard rise from the small round table. Holding his hands high and pumping his fists, he basked in the cheers of the bar after winning his arm-wrestling match.
“Who’s next?” the man asked the room, turning in place to challenge every man present. “Fifty bucks to any man who breaks my winning streak.”
Turning his attention away from you for a moment, Flip chewed his lip, sizing up the other man, who was as large as Flip and looked like something between a working lumberjack and a retired boxer.
“Go ahead, handsome,” you told him quietly, giving him permission with a smile and nudging him with your foot. “You know you want to.”
“Are you gonna be my prize if I win, sugar?” Flip asked you with a smirk as he pushed back from the bar, standing up to his full height.
“I’ll be your prize as long as you don’t forget that you’re my arm candy,” you told him as you grabbed him by the lapel and pulled him down for another kiss.
“Yeah, yeah. Stand there and look pretty, I know the drill,” he grumbled against your lips with teasing exasperation, before straightening again and turning his attention to the arm-wrestler, telling him, “You’re on, buddy.”
Flip and his opponent shook hands before seating themselves on opposite sides of the small table. A crowd had formed in the bar, encircling the men to watch their contest. You turned on your stool, leaning back with your elbows on the bar to watch your man show off his strength.
The two men locked eyes at the same time that they locked their right hands, staring each other down over their joined fists. The bartender shouted, “Go!” and the two strong men began trying to wrench the other’s hand down onto the table, grunting and huffing with effort as the veins protruded from their necks.
While Flip was distracted, focused on his opponent, another man plopped heavily down onto the vacant stool beside you. You spared a sideways glance to the intruder, enough to see that he was one of the college boys; a puffy-faced redhead with squinty eyes and a drunken slur, when he hit you with his best witty pickup line, “Hey, baby.”
“That seat is taken,” you said with polite venom, narrowing your eyes at him for a moment before returning your attention to Flip. Your man now had his teeth bared, nose wrinkled, as he snarled silently with his exertion. Both men’s hands were still upright, neither having yet been moved off center, their locked fists shaking violently from their flexing muscles.
“Yeah, it’s taken alright,” the drunk kid declared, adding, “By me! That man over there would rather play games than be here with you. Finders keepers.”
“That man is my husband,” you replied icily, not validating him with a look this time. “So, run along and go pester another woman who might appreciate your bullshit.”
The arm-wrestler’s arm had begun to shake, faltering in its upright position under the pressure of Flip’s strength, as Flip pushed the other man’s hand relentlessly downward. Beside you, the drunk still slurred pathetic come on’s at you, but your attention was fixed on Flip.
With a triumphant growl, Flip slammed the other man’s weakened hand down onto the table. Flip smiled good-naturedly at his opponent for a moment, before looking over to smile at you and share his victory.
Flip’s elation was short lived when he saw the drunk hitting on you.
He immediately pushed up from the table and away from his opponent, who wanted to buy Flip another round like a good sport, muttering, “maybe another time,” over his shoulder. Squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, Flip stalked back to you.
“Is everything alright, sugar?” Flip asked with a menacing tone, his eyes dangerously fixed on the drunk.
“I’m fine,” you answered, trying to avoid a bar brawl. “He didn’t realize the seat was taken.”
Stupidly enough, the drunk looked Flip up and down but remained seated next to you.
“Alright, asshole,” Flip growled at the man, seemingly growing even larger in his anger. “Get the fuck outta here.”
“And what if I don’t?” the rude man shot back, emboldened by liquor. He reached his arm out in an attempt to sling it around your shoulders, slow and clumsily.
“I’ll tell you what,” Flip quipped, as in one swift and well-practiced motion, he snatched the man’s arm with his right hand and in the same instant, retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his back jeans pocket with his left. Wrenching the man’s arm roughly down, Flip snapped one side of the cuffs around the man’s wrist and the other side around the leg of the stool, just below the seat and above the wooden bar that connected the stool’s legs, securing the man to the stool. “You just keep the fuckin’ seat.”
“Courtesy of Detective Zimmerman,” you added with a laugh as you pulled Flip down for another celebratory kiss.
A round of laughter sounded through the bar at the sight of the drunk, cussing and stumbling against the bar as he fumbled with his cuffed hand and the attached stool. One of the boy’s college buddies closed the distance to Flip, thinking he wanted to make trouble for Flip.
Flip faced the man, puffing his broad chest, balling his iron fists, and fixing the new kid with his most fearsome glare. The kid must have been more sober than his friend, because he raised his hands in supplication, backing down from a would-be ass kicking, ignoring his still-flailing friend.
“Good call, kid,” Flip gritted through clenched teeth.
The arm-wrestler approached you and Flip with a friendly smile, eyeing the drunken idiots with amusement. “I was gonna offer you a hand with these clowns, but it looks like you have it handled. Can I buy you a drink?”
“I appreciate it, but I better get my girl outta here,” Flip replied as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to his side, before teasing. “She’s always gettin’ my ass into trouble.”
“That’s what pretty women do,” the other man agreed with a shrug.
Flip reached for his neglected beer, throwing it back in one long swig and slamming the bottle back down on the bar. He then fished the keys to his cuffs out of his front jeans pocket and tossed them across the bar to the bartender, telling him with a smirk, “He’s all yours.”
Moving his hand to the small of your back, resting it there possessively, Flip led you out of the bar into the cool night air and on to an evening of pleasure, to be followed by a lazy morning in bed.
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Even the midday sun was chilly as you stood outside, waiting in line for the ski lift. You looped your arm through Flip’s elbow, pressing close against him in the icy air as you watched fogged breath puff from his lips. More than ever, you were thankful that he was tantamount to a walking furnace, always so warm when you pressed yourself against his huge body.
“Are you sure you don’t just want to stay in bed all day, sugar? You can call the shots,” Flip implored with steaming breath. Despite being an astonishingly good skier, he still had to grumble and cuss about it. “We don’t have to be out here, fightin’ the crowd all linin’ up to go bust their asses fallin’ down a mountain.”
“We’ll have fun,” you assured him, squeezing his arm. Not to mention the fact that you were both surrounded by some of the most picturesque snow-covered mountains, white slopes, green pine trees, and the prettiest crystal-clear blue sky imaginable.
When you reached the front of the lift line, stepping awkwardly onto the lift platform, you watched in amusement as Flip looked back over his shoulder, glaring back at the oncoming seat. He held you tight, almost yanking you back into the seat with him in his effort to help you needlessly. You only shook your head at him fondly as the lift carried you both away.
While the lift carried you higher up the mountain, bobbing along on its cable, Flip looked down between his skis at the ground far below.
“Lawyers have gotta fuckin’ love these places. This looks like about a dozen lawsuits waitin’ to happen,” he told you, wrapping his arm around you protectively, holding both of his poles in his other giant hand.
When you reached the blue platform, Flip stood smoothly with you, allowing the lift to push you both gently forward. As you both made your way to the start of the slope, you were pleased to see that even Flip seemed to be enjoying the scenery around you. Everything was even more beautiful from higher up the mountain, even though you were still below the summit.
At the top of the slope you paused, allowing you both to catch your breath in the thin air before beginning your run. Slopes always look steeper from the top, looking down a mountainside to its base far below you. The view gave you a rush of excitement, even though it was only a blue slope.
“Want to race?” Flip teased, raising his eyebrows as he looked from you down the mountain with a smirk.
“You better behave,” you warned him as he pushed away from you down the slope, his ebony hair blowing wildly around his handsome features.
“I can’t hear you, sugar!” he shouted over his shoulder as he sped away from you down the mountain.
Rolling your eyes, you set off down the mountain after him, the cold air burning your cheeks and your heart racing with adrenaline. Picking up speed, you raced down the slope, trying to keep pace with Flip. His broad back slowly pulled away from you as he shot down the mountain ahead of you. He wouldn’t do anything too reckless with you in tow, but he would also still speed fast enough to give you both a nice rush by the time you reached the bottom.
At the bottom of the slope, where the crowds of people accumulated to mill about after their ski runs, Flip slowed himself enough to pop a quick flourished hockey-stop, grinning at you as he kicked up a plume of snow.
You closed the distance to him as you slowed down yourself, albeit less gracefully than Flip. Even though you were doing just fine and stopping perfectly well on your own, Flip reached his arm out to catch you around the waist. Your momentum when Flip caught you, knocked him to the ground, sending him tumbling down in a floundering heap of long tangled legs and vehement curses as he pulled you down with him.
Flip hit the ground first, pulling you down against his chest as you yelped in surprise, and then rolling over you to pin you beneath him with your back in the snow. A smile broke on his lips when he lowered himself over you to kiss you. As his lips caressed yours, you felt yourself warming from the inside out, your body flushing with heat despite being pinned in the snow.
“You did that on purpose!” you exclaimed, smacking his shoulder as you pushed him back from your lips.
“Guilty as charged,” he agreed, lowering more of his weight on you, pinning you even more helplessly beneath him. He spent a few more indulgent moments kissing you before you helped each other back up to your feet. “Are you ready for a black slope now, sugar? I’ll race you down it.”
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The setting sun cast a fiery orange glow over the peaks and valleys of the snowcapped mountains, and red shot through the crisp blue sky as the dusk deepened on the last night of your getaway. It was a perfect evening to enjoy the hot springs, clear and frosty cold.
One of the highest pools up the mountain was also the most secluded, most people feeling no desire to walk further in the sub-freezing weather to seek the uppermost pool when they could just settle for a more crowded but easily accessible pool themselves. Flip preferred the higher pool and the added privacy offered by a smaller pool and thicker steam. And the two of you could almost always have it entirely to yourselves.
Such was the case this evening, as Flip led you both, shivering in your swimwear, to the uppermost pool. It was small, only able to accommodate five or six people if crowded and two or three comfortably. But tonight, it would hold only you and Flip, and anyone else who ventured close would be met with a ferocious glare from your intimidating man.
The pool was only ten yards or so away from the other pools, but it was higher in elevation, giving you both a good view of everyone else below you. The guests below could see you as well, although their view was more obscured by rising steam and the edge of the pool that rose up to your waists when seated. You and Flip were only visible from the waist up to guests below, which held an obvious appeal on a romantic weekend getaway.
Flip carried a backpack with him, filled with some snacks and bottles of beer that the two of you could enjoy while soaking in the one-hundred-four-degree water. He always refused to wear sandals like a normal person, and preferred his boots, even when paired with nothing but his black swim trunks, and despite your relentless hazing. He was quick to kick off his boots at the edge of the hot springs and dump his pack on the ground.
Flashing you a teasing smirk, Flip wasted no time in plunging inelegantly down into the steaming pool, intentionally splashing you and the snowy rocks as he did.
“You’re such a jackass!” you exclaimed fondly, kicking some snow into his face from the edge of the pool.
“Isn’t that part of my charm?” he asked, laughing heartily at you as you took more care with discarding your shoes and folding your towel neatly where it would stay dry.
Shaking some of the snow out of his damp hair like a scruffy wet dog, movement from below caught Flip’s eye. In one of the lower pools, Flip saw the same group of asshole college boys from the bar, heckling and laughing amongst themselves. Just the sight of them was enough to make Flip grit his teeth and clench his fists reflexively. He watched as the same little bastard he had handcuffed to the bar stool elbowed his friend, getting his attention and pointing right up at you as you bent over to stack your two towels. Flip also didn’t miss the way the redheaded man licked his lips at the sight of you, openly ogling you with his friend.
“Bring me a beer when you get in, will you, sugar?” Flip asked you, keeping his eyes on the other men as you bent over just a little longer. Fuck it, Flip thought wickedly, if those assholes want to look at my girl, I’ll give ‘em a real good fuckin’ show.
“A beer, huh? That’s what you want?” you replied, having noticed the other men yourself as you took your time rummaging for a beer in his backpack, knowing this game and giving the other men a glimpse of what they could never have.
Straightening with Flip’s beer in hand, you stretched luxuriously despite the cold and needlessly adjusted your bikini, before sauntering over to the pool and dipping your toe into the steaming water to coyly test the temperature. You gave your best Marylin Monroe gasp of surprise at the heat, hugging your arms around your body and propping them under your breasts as you lowered yourself into the water.
Grinning like a wolf, Flip watched as you moved through the hip-deep water toward him, loving the way your tits bounced in your little bikini. Your shapely body already glistened from the steam curling around your figure, caressing you just the way he wanted to with his own hands. Flip twisted the cap off his beer bottle and took a swing, his eyes never leaving your body, before spreading his arms wide and grinning even wider when he rested his long arms across the rock behind him.
The bastard looked entirely too indulgent, leaning back against the stone like he owned the entire hot springs, and eyeing you with a possessive hunger. You ran your hands across the breadth of his shoulders and down over the dense plane of his chest before turning to take your seat on his lap, leaning your back against his chest as his left arm wrapped around your waist. Resting his huge hand over your lower belly, Flip’s thumb absently toyed with the waistband of your bikini bottoms as an approving growl rumbled deep in his chest. You smiled at the feeling of his long, thick, insistent erection pressing along your back, already hard for you.
“Is that all for me?” you teased, dragging your nails along his muscular thighs, and looking back over your shoulder to smirk at him as you wiggled your ass playfully in his lap.
“You know I’m all yours,” Flip replied huskily, his voice low and thick. He dropped his shaggy head, bringing his lips to your shoulder to kiss you softly before scratching his goatee up along your neck and placing a playful nip to your skin below your ear. “I’m always hungry for you, sugar.”
“Don’t you think Ron and Bridges will give you a hell of a time if you come back from vacation with indecent exposure charges?” you laughed, only rubbing back against his erection more firmly.
“You’re worth the risk,” he growled into your ear, his breath steaming in the air and hot on your skin. He dipped his left hand inside your bikini bottoms, running his thick fingers through your folds and circling around your clit with his calloused fingertips. “They’re gonna give me hell anyway over the scratches you’ve already left all over my shoulders.”
“And you love it!” you laughed again before continuing. “But wouldn’t you rather wait until we’re back in our room and our nice soft bed?” you pretended to be coy, even as he removed his hand from inside your bikini, only to pull it to the side.
“Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll have you in bed later, too,” he assured you as he fished his aching cock out of his swim trunks. Gripping the thick base of his cock, he held himself in place for you. “Let those bastards down there watch me fill your tight little pussy up.”
“You’re a dick, Flip, you know that?” you scolded him affectionately as you raised your hips enough to sink slowly down onto his cock. Just as Flip asked, you let the full expression of painful pleasure show openly on your beautiful features, biting your lip at first before letting your mouth fall open along with your moan as you seated yourself fully down on his perfect cock.
Rocking yourself on his cock, you let your head fall back onto Flip’s shoulder, arching your tits as you did so Flip could watch them bounce softly with your movements. Flip raised his left hand to squeeze your breast before dropping it below the water again to return his touch to your clit.
Before allowing himself to become fully lost in the feeling of your body, Flip glanced down at the men who still watched you both from the pool below, grinning at them like the smug bastard he was.
“Cheers, assholes,” Flip said for his and your ears only as he tipped his beer bottle toward the men sarcastically and bucked his hips beneath you, before bringing the bottle to his lips for a deep swig.
There was no rush, no reason to race to the finish line of your shared pleasure. You wanted to feel him deep inside of you, huge and throbbing, for as long into the evening as you could. Flip only rolled his hips under you, languorous and indulgent, drawing low sighs from you instead of urgent screams. Pinning you to his lap with his arm, he ground into you as deeply as he could, letting you feel as full of him as you could possibly get as he rubbed lazy circles around your clit.
After the sun had fully set and the blanket of darkness had settled over the hot springs, and only the light from the clear shining stars and the pristine white snow on the mountains illuminated the landscape, did you finally grow impatient for your release.
“Make me cum, handsome,” you commanded Flip sweetly in a breathy whisper, and he was all too happy to comply.
“Yes, boss,” he teased in your ear before bucking his hips beneath you, thrusting hard and deep. He wrapped his left arm tight around your waist to hold you in place as he pounded up into you from below, each hard thrust jarring your body and making you bounce in the water. He brought his right hand to your pussy, rubbing your clit against his shaft as his cock slid in and out of you.
You found no reason to stifle the heady moan that escaped your lips when you came on his cock in quivering waves, shuddering in his arms from the force of your orgasm. Nor did Flip feel the need to silence the low growl that rumbled through his chest when he exploded inside of you from the feeling of you tightening around his cock, grunting in time with every burst of cum he pumped into you.
Just as the voices below you still filtered up to your ears through the darkness, you had little doubt that the sounds of your pleasure would carry down to anyone who may be listening. Even the sweet nothings Flip growled into your skin as he kissed your neck and praised your beauty would be audible to those below, although they could also be easily mistaken for the sounds of a predator.
It was always fitting, you thought, when Flip fucked you outdoors or out in the wilderness. He was as much of a wild beast as any wolf roaming the mountains, tamed only by you and your soothing touch.
But your warm sheets beckoned.
“Let’s head back to our room and find a good movie to ignore,” you told him over your shoulder.
Flip was happy to obey, as always. Like a gentleman, he exited the hot water first, his massive body steaming in the cold night air as he quickly threw a towel around his shoulders. He held the other towel out for you to step into and wrapped it around your body, rubbing your arms and shoulders dry himself.
His hand returned to its favorite place on the small of your back as he led you back through the hot springs, past the other couples in the pools. The route back also led you both right past the pool where the college kids soaked and caroused. The two boys Flip had humiliated in the bar split their attention between glaring at Flip and ogling you as you approached.
Unable to resist, Flip paused as he passed by the pool of assholes, fixing them with his cockiest smirk.
“I didn’t need to chain you down to keep your fuckin’ seat this time, did I?” he asked the drunk with a huffed laugh before turning to you. His hand slipped down from your back to squeeze a handful of your ass when he told you loudly enough for the other men to hear, “I have another pair of cuffs if you want to handcuff me to the bed and use me all night long, sugar.”
“I like the sound of that,” you agreed, rubbing your hand over his bare chest. “Lead the way, handsome.”
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