Skiing

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Young wife gets a skiing lesson.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,501 Followers

When Mike, my husband, informed me that he'd arranged a weekend away for us I was ecstatic. It was winter. I could see us now, curled up in front of a log fire in a cabin in the woods. It'd be fun.

After I'd enthusiastically agreed it was a bit hard to find a way to say "over my dead body" when he added that it was a skiing weekend. Mike skis the way a fish swims. Easy and natural. I ski the way a fish ice skates.

So my idyllic weekend was going to be a time when Mike soared majestically over hill and dale while I fumbled and fell down the kiddies slopes. Assuming the kiddies slopes weren't too steep for me.

We rolled up to the ski-lodge on a Friday night. Mike immediately pounced on the chart of ski-runs, noting the black diamond and double black diamond slopes. I looked up the green circle slopes and asked if they had anything simpler. The ski-instructor just laughed, assuming that I was kidding. I tripped him as he went to walk away and managed to tread on his hand while helping him up.

The next morning Mike hustled me out of bed nice and early. I'd have been quite content to stay there for another hour or six but he insisted that we get up and onto the slopes. I managed to slow him down a little by lingering over breakfast but then he was chasing me out of the building and onto the slopes.

Mike is reasonably considerate. He had located the three easiest slopes and urged me to practise on them.

"Start with the easiest," he told me. "In the afternoon, switch to the next hardest. By tomorrow you'll be doing the last slope without any problems. All you need is a bit of practice."

And a lot of luck and some co-ordination that seemed to go missing when I started sliding. I know the theory of the damn things and I can actually get around on them, slowly. For some reason, once I pick up speed, everything just seems to go haywire.

I pushed off down the kiddies slope, smiling gamely and waving goodbye to Mike who was heading off to the harder slopes. A mistake, waving. I promptly fell flat on my face. I staggered upright, gritted my teeth and started downhill.

For the next hour I glided gently down the hill and then climbed back up to glide gently down again. Gliding gently down without falling built up my confidence. Seeing little children go streaking past me deducted from that confidence. All in all, confidence wise, it was a draw.

After lunch, faithfully following Mike's instructions I moved on to the next hardest slope. I was actually relieved to find that I'd probably have it to myself. The little brutes from the first slope had all seemed to move on to the third hardest slope, and they were welcome to it.

I was sailing down the slope, moving at a respectable speed for a change, when disaster struck. A rabbit. Would you believe it? A blasted bunny came tearing out of the trees to my right and cut straight across in front of me. What the hell was he doing there? He should have been in his warren, sound asleep. Not attacking innocent skiers.

I swerved to miss him. Silly I know. Rabbits have much better swerving control that I do. If I'd kept in a straight line he'd probably have run around me in a circle and hopped away, waving his little paw. As it was I swerved to the right to go behind him, turned my head to keep track of where Bugs was going, then looked forward again to realise I'd turned too far and was about to plough into the trees at full speed.

One part of skiing I had down to a fine art. I could trigger the quick release mechanism on the skis faster than anyone I know. Practice is what does it. I dumped the skis and ploughed face first into the snow, sliding across it and under the trees. I lay there, feeling stunned, and then feeling infuriated when those damned skis I'd released came sliding up next to me.

I was looking at those stupid skis, knowing I was going to have to strap them back on, when another pair of skis slid up next to me. These ones were occupied though. I looked up to see who it was, and had to look higher than expected. The guy must have been well over six foot tall. Blonde and handsome. If I hadn't had Mike I'd have been flirting like crazy.

"Don't go moving anything until I make sure that you're all right," he said, and his deep voice sent shivers down my spine. "You came quite a cropper. Rabbits can be a menace, can't they?"

While he was talking he'd shed his own skis and was crouching down next to me. He very quickly and efficiently ran his hands over my arms and legs and neck, checking to ensure that there was nothing seriously wrong. While he checked me over he chattered to me.

"I'm Hans, from Austria. I'm over here on a working holiday. I'm one of the instructors for the lodge. I noticed you on the slopes earlier and had intended to have a word with you. You have the potential to be a good skier you know."

No. I did not know. Who did he think he was kidding?

"Ja. Is true," he said "I was watching you and you have the right moves. You only have two little problems. You are too tense and you lack confidence. Both of these feed of each other, making each of them worse. If you can kill off one, the other will fade away as well. Now it takes time to build confidence on the slopes, but I will show you an exercise to release some of that tension. When you are not so tense you will ski better and your confidence will build. That will make you even less tense and so on."

That would be fine by me. I'd love to be able to ski better. He was also spot on about the tenseness. I just hadn't realised that that was aggravating the lack of confidence and vice versa.

"I'm game to try anything that'll help," I said. "What's this exercise?"

"It's quite simple," he said. "You need to be on your hands and knees."

"Like this," I asked, kneeling quickly.

"Ja. That is good. Now I am putting my hands on your waist."

He followed this statement by doing just that, hands firmly settling to either side of my waist.

"Now we proceed like this," he said, and with that he yanked my pants down, and my panties followed suit.

I squealing with shock and then squealed again as his cock nailed me neatly. He didn't drive it all the way in, just parted my lips and slid in a little way.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I wailed at him.

"I'm sexing you," he calmly informed me. "After I have sexed you, you will be a lot more relaxed and will ski much better. I am just waiting while your body prepares for me.

Ah, is sexing the right word. I'm not too certain with some English words."

"I think the word you actually want is fucking," I said, trying to stay calm. "I'd rather you didn't do it. Please take it out."

"Don't be silly," he told me. "All the frauleins like Hans fucking. See, your body is already adjusting."

If by adjusting he meant I was getting hot and wet then he was right on. Hans was an incredibly handsome brute and that voice was enough to wake Sleeping Beauty without the kiss. Add that to his cock pressing into me and it's no wonder I was adjusting.

Hans took immediate advantage. He just leaned against me and I could feel him sliding smoothly into position.

"Hans, I'm married. Take it out, please," I begged.

"No matter. Hans knows how to keep his mouth shut. Just relax and let go. That's what I'm showing you. How to relax."

With that he started sliding back and forth, sinking his cock all the way into me and then slowly drawing it back for his next run. I couldn't do anything about it. I found myself responding, moving with him, pushing back when he drove into me, getting him to sink in deeply.

Hans took his time. He was going to help me relax and I wouldn't relax if he didn't service me properly. At least, that's the premise he seemed to be operating under. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in his own pleasure, but it seemed that he considered that my pleasure came first. For the sake of my skiing. Wasn't that thoughtful of him?

It wasn't long and Hans had me putty in his hands. Or on his cock, anyway. He plunged into me, again and again, and I was whimpering softly and pushing hard against him, wanting more, faster, please.

He built me up slowly, taking his time and easing me higher with every thrust. I couldn't help wondering what it would be like if we were naked and he could really enjoy my body. My breasts were aching for a touch.

When he started his end run I was almost frantic for release. I'd have been screaming for it but I couldn't get my breath. I just let out a groan when I felt him suddenly hitting home hard and fast and let myself go.

My climax washed over me, and I could feel Hans' climax bursting free from him. I sort of sagged down into the snow, bum shining under the sun.

I could sense Hans standing and adjusting his clothes and putting on his skis. Then I jumped back to life with a yelp as Hans gave me a friendly slap on the bottom.

"Come," he said. "Skis on. See how well you go now that you're relaxed."

Skis hell. Pants on first, thank you very much. Then skis. With the skis on I stood there, feeling as relaxed as spaghetti. I was so relaxed I wonder I didn't ooze back down onto the snow.

"Now go," said Hans, giving me a little shove.

I went, sailing down the slope, not worrying about a thing, just gliding along. When I reached the bottom I was astounded. That was the fastest and easiest I'd ever skied. I went scrambling back up the hill to do it again, and I did. Total relaxation and away I went. I couldn't wait to try a harder slope.

When I got to the bottom of the slope a third time Hans was waiting for me.

"You see," he said. "You know how to ski. Confidence and practice and relax. You say you're married."

I nodded.

"Then you have your husband relax you before you come out skiing tomorrow. But don't worry if he can't. I'll be around and will help you. All part of the service."

Ashson
Ashson
8,501 Followers
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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 10 years ago
Good mood

Very nice and well written story, though it's place is not probably in non-con section. Got me in very good mood.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 10 years ago
Bunny fuck?

Cute story, you gotta watch those darn rabbits though.

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