Upon Snow Capped Hills

She slipped the glove off her other hand, unbuttoned her jacket, and slowly slid that hand inside. Her chest was like an inferno, the heat of her flesh so bright in contrast to this anemic wasteland. She squeezed her nipples. They were tiny, nothing she'd ever been proud of, but they sizzled there beneath the fabric, like baby coals in a well-stoked fire.

Joanna leaned down, her face barely a foot from his cock as her hand continued to work. Water flowed freely now down the shaft as ice melted. His well-carved stomach was moving, almost like breath.

A gasp then as Joanna felt another hand move into her jacket. His skin was soaking with the perspiration of countless melting winters as ice-cold fingers searched, perused, a blue-white palm cupping her breast.

Joanna pulled her jacket open, letting it fall behind her in the snow. Panting now, she slipped her sweater and her undershirt off. She wore no bra underneath, the cold had caused its metal clasps to ache. She sat there, bare from the waste up as the wind of the environs and the hand of a moving dead-man had their way with her vulnerable skin.

She'd never felt this exposed before. Never had the bare wind of nature find these parts of her body uncovered. The night was so frigid it hurt, but her body, her chest and shoulders and breasts all felt alive out here like this, where trees and wolves and moon could see her.

And him… his eyes were still closed, but his face had a warmth now. That opal-pallor the ice had lent him was fading. A slight twist, a smile perhaps, had found its way to his lips as he continued to caress her exposed bosom.

Joanna leaned in that final tiny bit then. She was shivering from the liquor and the cold and most of all her nerves as her lips parted, her tongue coming out to meet the head of his monument of a phallus. She was far from orally experienced; the idea had always disgusted her. Only a few times in her marriage, and once as a teenager, had she let a man's penis cross this threshold.

It seemed this would be a night alive with new experiences.

The skin was pliable, an unyielding core beneath as she let it slide deeper into her mouth. Water was everywhere, seeping from his very pores now. Joanna swallowed, letting the mountain-clean liquid slide down her throat as she continued to fellate him. The snow groaned as his hips came up to meet her. The temperature of his loins numbed her throat, cutting down the gagging as he moved against her, harder and harder, the popsicle head of his quickly-thawing member pressing against the very edges of her throat.

His other hand reached over then, on her hair. Quietly, the first vestiges of breath escaped him as he held her, shoving his dick into her mouth with a frightening pressure. She felt the o-ring of her throat stretch, expand as he forced his cock deeper, past her uvula, into her neck. Waves of radiating cold crept into her being. Tears had started, streaming from the corners of Joanna's eyes. She felt herself turning blue as an ever growing expanse of seconds passed without breath.

His dick slid in and out of her facial insides, growing in there, swelling to an impossible girth when finally he relented. Letting go, he pulled back. Joanna felt the serpentine trail of his sausage squirrel its way from her gullet, coughing as the winter air found passage. She was panting, trying to catch a breath. She'd almost found it when suddenly he was pulling her up, on top of him.

Joanna's fingers were numb, careless, barely able to undo the tie and latches of her snow-pants. He grabbed the waste and yanked, tearing the fixtures loose. She stood above him, kicking off her boots and letting the remnants of her pants do a race with her dignity on their way to the melting snow.

"Jesus," she whispered, looking down at him. Both his hands outstretched, eyes still closed, lids frozen over with a sparkling frost. The wind had picked up, found a bite somewhere and flurries of snowflakes as well. She felt them dancing across her completely exposed form, biting at her and catching in the freezing crevices of her crotch's fuzzy mound.

The hair did what it could to protect her most sensitive of regions, but the truth of this place was just too much. Snow clung to her pubes, melting sparkles of stinging reality.

This can't be happening… it can't.

Her legs were spread as she stood over him, holding the lips of her vagina just slightly apart. It was like she'd never been aware of sex before today. The air had a consciousness. It was aware of her, of her nudity and sex and desire and the tiniest motions that scrambled through the muscles of flesh.

Joanna was moist, and the cold took advantage, biting at the droplets of her arousal as the oozed from the edges of her vag.

The man's eyes were still closed, but his lips moved. Air came out, lungs in there working somehow, finding a way beyond way to make words.

"Come to me," he said.

Joanna brought her hands to her breast. He was so beautiful. No longer blue, no longer dead, he was the most handsome creature she'd ever laid eyes on, and there he lay, beneath her, wanting her.

She moved down, legs bending, carrying her rump to the earth until the head of his cock rested just between the folds of her quivering vulva.

She was doing it… Joanna was doing it… having sex with a corpse… making love to the dea-

The thought left her as he took her hands, pulling her down suddenly, impaling her. She gasped. There had never been a thing so large inside her before. Her vaginal moisture had already begun to freeze in the snowy air. Skin and frost alike cracked, bled, though the torrent of melting water gave lubrication to this other-worldly invasion.

The round, contours of Joanna's ass came to rest against his thighs as her pussy fully ensheathed him. He was cold… God was he cold. It was like his penis numbed her yet gave her life all at once. His head, swollen like the bottom of a gigantic strawberry pressed frozen and hard against the unseen wall of her cervix. She felt the mucus of her womb hardening, freezing as he pulled himself out and shoved himself in. Joanna threw her head back, eyes closed, little barking sounds the only noise her throat could make as the dead man in the snow had his increasingly brutal way with her.

The chalky sounds of flesh meeting flesh with the frigid elements in-between gave duet with the howling wind and the crackling fire. He was grunting beneath her, hands clawing at her breasts, squeezing so hard it felt he was pushing the guts of them into her chest.

Joanna's heart was racing. She couldn't even feel her pussy anymore. It was like he'd bypassed her opening, and was fucking her directly at the center now. The fleshy walls of her insides were sloughing off, his cock pulling them out. His cock was an ever-reddening monolith. Spatters of crimson dotted his pelvis. The blood froze as it hit the air, landing in crystals upon his skin.

She was getting there. Joanna's body was a swirling cacophony of heat and tremor and ache and the impending explosion of an orgasm the likes of which a woman has never known.

"Holy fuck! HOLY FUCK!" she screamed. Her fingers turned to claws and dug at the skin of his chest, tearing it open in placing, and letting blood fall that should have laid dormant many moons ago.

Her bladder let go as she came, screaming at the torrid air and Joanna looked down then and saw him. The man beneath her was smiling. His eyes were open and he was beaming at her. Staring into her eyes as he thrust his melting member inside her again and again and again and again and as his semen erupted way up in there a thousand shards of frozen glass found their way inside her womb and crawled upwards and outwards, shattering every piece of her Joanna's being that had ever been alive.

The sun poured through the open edges of Katie's flap as she unzipped her tent.

"Fuck," she mumbled, shielding her eyes. The fingers of morning pried a pain from deep within her skull. It was cold out, an early morning bite, but that didn't make her have to urinate any less.

The snow crackled beneath her feet as Katie wobbled out a bit from their tents. Orange embers of last night's fire still smoldered, and the sun set cast everything into a kaleidoscope of light.

Bunching her pants around her ankles, she squatted and sighed as the piss flowed out of her, melting a hole in the milky blanket that covered everything.

She'd had to go since sometime before dawn, but the ill-effects of alcohol had kept her from braving the too-cold world. She'd even squirted in her panties a bit, but it didn't matter. She'd been beyond drunk, and hell, it kept her pussy warm.

Finally relieved, Katie pulled her pants up, careful not to step the steaming puddle. She giggled, looking down at it. Her yellow torrent had melted a good patch of snow, clearing a space for the ground to breathe.

Grass was growing there.

Life could just be weird that way.

She saw it as she stumbled back towards the tent.

The body was still there, but it looked different somehow. It looked more splayed than she remembered, and there was no sign of the frozen manhood that'd captivated them so.

Changing course, Katie wandered towards it. She started screaming before she got there.

"Jesus, what!" Danny cried, shoving herself free of her tent. Billy's head poked out, but a cloud of alcoholic disinterest kept her from going to see what was about.

"My God, it's… it's…" Katie stammered, standing there, pointing at the frozen carcass that used to be their friend.

Joanna, still, blue, laid out in the snow. She was naked, legs spread, sex splayed open in a frosted gape. Globs of semen had frozen all across her pelvis and chest, a thick granule of it stilled in the act while dribbling from her left areola.

Katie's mouth hung agape, her legs trembling, and then she saw them. Footprints, large, larger than any of theirs, heading off into the distance where someone, reinvigorated, alive, had wandered towards the horizon, and a life that should have never been.