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Snowed Bunny By Dee Eon All the ski instructors were overlooking me so much that I started feeling like Rodney Dangerfeild and regretting having won that newspaper weekly prize free trip up to Hunter Ski Bowl. With Charlotte away at college now, Mom was glad to see me off at the bus terminal at four AM Saturday for the four hour bus trip north for the whole weekend so she could spend more time with her stud boyfriend and being mostly a bookworm loner I didn't have anyone to tag along, not that they'd have to pay their own way anyway. To tell you the truth, I mostly went for the welcome change and adventure change from the Big Apple to the Catskills' fresh crisp blue skies and rolling sugar-frosted ancient mountains. It was like landing in another world that was light-years away from Polk High School's freshman class and crazies. When I got off the bus the ski resort reception woman greeted me like a bored stewardess and pinned an I.D. to my parka and showed me to one of the tiny Motel Six motif rooms on the far side of the resort near the dumpster docks. "Alright Lawrence, remember since you're under-aged, no smoking or drinking or casino games on the premises! Have a nice day!" she chirped before pivoting on her heels and hopping off on her way like headed for a fire sale. "Er, thank you, ma'am" I said in her wake and closed the door and started unpacking my duffel bag. Shit! Just Great! Mom packed Charlotte's old electric-pink ski suit in my suitcase! Thanks mom. All I needed! Sis was always the outdoorsey type with her friends so she had ski suits, tennis outfits, skating togs, the whole nine yards and she left everything behind when she went coed several states away. Mom inevitably figured borrowing my sister's shit would save us money after all Charlotte's tuition and expenses. Wrongo Mom! I wasn't all that hyper to learn any skiing anyway. I had my camera so I was going to just walk around snapping pixs and maybe get lost and meet a deer or a bear in the surrounding forest left that wasn't mowed down by vast wide tracks of ski slopes that were packed with pro and wanna-be lame skiers like the Long Island Expressway in rush hour on a snow day. After a half day of loitering around the resort and the guest cabins and the maintenance huts and shops, my curiosity finally got the best of me to at least taste what skis were like. I felt like I was applying for NASA as my choice led me to the Ski Ready Hut where I used my winner's free rental ticket to pick out a snug purple ski suit then get fitted with boots and binders and skis and pole and amber snow goggles to go over my glasses then pointed out the packed beginners area which looked as challenging as Home Depot parking lot laid with talcum powder. I trundled over there, feeling sheepish as hell around little kids scuttling around faster than I could oar my skis. That was nice, but I didn't want to feel like a complete "Am" at this, and it didn't help when I tried calling several of the beefy ski instructors to instruct me in ski shuffling. Oh, one did help me; he pointed me the way to the rest room hut. Nice jerk! But these ski bums sure took off after anything curving a red or pink ski suit like bees to hot honey! It was incredible. All these college dudes in their fancy Olympic ski duds taking out personal time assisting silly beaming blonde and brunette things who acted like they didn't know a ski pole from a pool cue. It was so obvious! It was a real racket. I wanted to complain to the ski director but I didn't think it was really worth the hassle. I didn't really want to learn how to break a leg anyway. As I was passing a family while returning to the lodge I noticed a father loudly complaining to a bunch of sheepish ski instructors something about one of them "hitting" on his twelve-year-old daughter, and I noticed, I guess next to her sulky mom, a rather tall sheepish girl in a willowy pink ski suit and fur-fringed hood framing a face that wouldn't exactly pass for a high school cheerleader, but the modestly sly smile expression on her face suggested that she rather liked being mistaken for a coed bunny. Stupid cow. If the rest of her under her ski suit matched her face I bet those guys would've swerved her like a bridge detour. Too bad it wasn't the beach so they could've seen what the real story was. Damn! These ski suits can puff almost any female look nice and sexy if you weren't fifty pounds or years over, especially the way girls and women's suits were cut and stuffed with down. Pink was like Swiss cheese for these rats of a ski bum! Choosing who to help and instruct just because some looked young and curvy in pink. It was blatant discrimination! I bet if I was in one of those pink snow bunny suits with the hood up those clowns would be making tracks-- I stopped dead in mine and in a wild notion looked at the trafficked slopes. At hunk-escorted giggly Barbies in pink being toured the powder while other poor guys and slobs in blue and green and gray tumbled all around. All except the pinks... Like that bundle stuffed my suitcase... I snickered at myself. Naw. No way!! I may've been a dork but I was no fairy! I had Playboys under my bed and hopes of puberty filling me out into Sly Stallone. I'd no lack of testosterone in MY brain! Still, when was the next time I'd come this way again? Out of the city much less skiing in a fancy fairyland like this? The fact I was even here was a fluke of averages, and I really did want to learn at least a touch of skiing after coming all this way. I always fancied being a hot-dog skier like in the movies and I might swear at myself next week for not gnashing teeth and taking the dive. I peered at one woman gracing pink curves. With my hood up and amber goggles over my glasses you couldn't really fully tell one's face. You couldn't tell a boy from a babe, and as that girl and her pissed-off dad proved most of these ski bums weren't all that discriminating. I still had a choirboy face and had a rather scrawny build so I couldn't do worst than these 'tweens and preteens. I nibbled my lower lip and went back to my room and opened my suitcase. This is crazy!! I shed my boy suit and with a hesitant squeamish pause donned Charlotte's. I mean I never even wore a pink shirt before! Off the bat it felt different, nip and tucking around my frame a different way. Compared to my boy suit it seemed a bit more thicker or padded around the hips and up top. I wondered how much of that added goose down was for warmth or catering to female vanity. I also noticed it was a little loose around the chest... Shit! I really didn't want to "fix" that but neither did I want to be taken for some kid girl and get passed over by some ski instructor either, so I grudgingly grabbed and balled an extra set of wool socks and stuffed it and jockeyed it so they wouldn't go awry and kill my pose. I hoped my "bosom" was inconspicuous enough to just fill out the wrinkles up top with making me look a freaking fag. I checked out the mirror and was surprised and fascinated by my new fake curves. Even my small modest bosom looked nice and made what I saw in the mirror more alien apart myself. Jeeze! Did I look as great as Charlotte did modeling this thing? I pulled up my Angora-rimmed hood and my goggles over my glasses as only my cheeks and chin showed, smooth and clean as a fifth grade kid's. Not bad! You wouldn't know I was a guy for beans! Still, I was kind of skittish at being discovered as a guy and best by enhancing my looks to appear more like a girl. With this unappealing notion, I brushed out some strands of my short strawberry blonde locks from around my face and feathered it out around the fluffy white rim of my hood. There! Like a teasing hint of fuller girl-tresses behind my goggles-hidden face. Almost looks kinda cute. On the whole, I looked just like a carbon copy of all those girls out there! Actually my height more matched a high school senior or a college coed than a girl, which was okay. If I were too short those ski jockeys might pass helping me by taking me for a kid. No, I was just right to grab some help on the sly! One thing missing were matching pink ski boots, but my white boys' ones oughta pass okay enough. I snapped their binders into the skis and skittishly emerged the Hut and out the ramp to the slopes but to my relief I received no strange looks as I shuffled skies over to a less populated area of the beginners area and started puttering around. Ironically, to my sheepish frustration I was afraid of waving for help and drawing attention to my sudden lack of confidence of passing for a girl. Any kinda girl. Great! What a stupid-ass idea! Dressing up in fairy pink to get some ski bum's friggin' attention! Crazy! Exasperated and frustrated, I settled down to doing it alone, at first fruitlessly pedaling then pushing myself around with my ski poles like oars to a rowboat and raising myself content with that. I mean at least it got me around, even if it was a slope flat as a pool table. Using my pressed together skies as a sled of sorts I could steer around other kids and couples flopping on their arses all over the place, and I finally got enough confidence to try to put on a little speed to see what I could do on a straight-away. Now that wasn't so bad! I had cluck to myself. Maybe it wasn't real skiing but I was making tracks! I bet I could shove myself along quick as my bike! So the points of poles dug into snow on a temporary clear path through the tumbling beginners toward the edge of the far woods. I pushed myself faster and faster and I felt a breeze press my front. Not bad! Hey, who needs a slope, huh? Zero fiction skidding over powdery ice. Neat! Now, just slow down coming to the trees. Man, they're sure greeting big fast! I stabbed the racing ground with my poles. Said slow down. Shit, I'm headed for those trees! Turn or shit! Right, skid and break my ass, right? Stab snow, stab snow! That tree rushing up at me with bare spear-like branches reaching for me! Aw shit!!!!! Eyes shut tight, I braced for an impaling collision and felt my skies leave the ground, but I also felt something twine my waist and whirl me about so I was facing backwards and at the same time a mass suddenly crushing me reeled in a smooth tight glide away from the trees and lurched to a stop. For several seconds I was totally nonplused. "Whoa!! Almost got creamed there!!" clucked a cheery macho voice and I looked up to see the face of a ski bum, a college jock no doubt. I blushed. "I...I...thank you," I issued in a weak voice and he grinned. "Welcome. I've been watching you for a while." "You have??" "Yea, been doing pretty nice on your own, looks." "Aww--" I bit my lower lip. Shit, that sounded too boy! Soften your voice and drop the eyes so he doesn't see through you! "Er, I mean, I--I haven't been skiing for real. Not like up them slopes." He grinned. "No, maybe not downhill, but you've been doing great for cross-country." "Cross country?" "Going over flat terrain over forest trails and hunting paths and like. All you have to know is pushing yourself along, not flying down like a hydroplane!" I chuckled at that and he chuckled back. "Well, I won't be doing too much like that. I'm only here till tomorrow." "Well, that's long enough for a taste of the Devil's Path." "Devil's Path?" "That's the main hiker's trail in the Catskills. It's like a hiker's Interstate 95 down the mountain range with lots of turn-offs to smaller trails leading to mounts further off. Some of them used to be old Indian paths but most of them are hunters trails. Some are pretty rough going, like going up Balsam Cap and Friday, or even suicidal like Sugarloaf--but we won't be doing those. There're lots of nice back country roads mixed in too. Trails so peaceful and quiet so you can hear snow fall. We've a small party getting ready right now. Close friends of mine from Colorado. Maybe sight some deer or a bear on our way to a log cabin." "Wow! Sounds neat. Wish I could go along." "Why not? You got--er, know anyone else who'd be interested?" he asked in an oddly hopeful way. "Huh? I--I--no, it's just me." "Great! Believe me, you'll like it. I got hot cocoa in my thermos all ready to go." He held out his hand. "I'm Chuck. Chuck Benson." "I'm Law--" I bit my lower lip again. "Er, Law--ry... Laurie. Yea, Laurie Franklin." "Foxy Laurie Franklin," he said in a chuckling way startling me. Foxy??? Me??? Oh, well, I was skittish about being around strange people, but I do owe the guy something for stopping me from being impaled on a couple of tree branches, and so long as I don't take off my goggles or hood I ought be okay. But it is kinda sly and neat, being rescued by a college dude who thinks I'm a coed chick! "Cute name too," he said, and making my buried smirk blush. Beneath my miffed male ego I was totally floored that he could be so blind as to take me for a girl, though I once heard some time ago that most prepubescent boys could pass for older girls if they mimicked them well enough. What I didn't have the sense to know was that what made up for my lack of coed maturity was my youth's naive being taken as cutely dumb. As in dumb blonde. And a foxy one at that! I giggled inanely like Charlotte did around her boyfriends in lone places. It was sissy, but I was anxious to hide any hint that I wasn't what I seemed. Chuck introduced me to three other couples, all college types on vacation and apparently all just thrown together for this trip. "So Laurie, you on break too?" Barbie asked like a tittering schoolgirl. "Er, no, my legs' are alright," I said and the others laughed and I blushed before hastily reflecting my foible's unintentional ski joke and realizing they must've meant school vacation. Dale, Jack's new snow bunny tittered; "You're funny, Laurie! We can use that!" Great! We took off at the base of the Ski Bowl along a trail running the spine of Hunter mountain and along to its sister mounts like Rusk and Thomas Cole which bestride several valleys all the way south to Woodstock. We skirted daunting dips into deep valleys and edged along great rounded slopes of gigantic frosted hills. "This must be easy stuff for people from Colorado!" I said toward the others and Jack chuckled. "Maybe, but remember the Catskills used to be like the Rockies once -- even higher they say! Imagine how long it must've taken for the weather to wear them down!" That was a sobering thought, and made me feel even smaller than an ant in the city like I felt now. After a while it seemed that Chuck adopted me as a partner and though I was curious I declined asking whether he'd already a partner in mind before he found me. I kept my voice and face low and laughed when they joked and made light conversation. I was awed by how content the guys were by my relative quiet, as though their occasional sipping my sight was enough stimulation for them. Just as well, because everyone was content to let the sounds of nature fill the void and the slish of our skies over snow powder and the faint crackles of branches straining under a snow pack. Still, it was a good thing my girly choirboy voice hadn't cracked yet for once, thank God. It was a nice exciting ski trek, passed tumble-down stone mills and hunters digs and saw a few raccoons and deer. We stopped a couple of times for a thermos of hot cocoa that Chuck shared with me then continued around the mountain. I didn't realize it was twilight and was about to ask about returning when the trees ahead darkened and heralded a clearing with an log cabin. "Open house!" Chuck replied and soon we were inside helping light the stone hearth and gather twigs and logs. Henry and Karen found a kettle and took some cans from their knapsacks to stir up a concoction to boil over the roaring fire, Still, it was a bit nippy inside and everyone sat in a close semicircle before the fire. Karen broke out Dixie cups and a ladle to dip into the boiling pot. I sipped the hot sweet brew. Like a hot apple cider with a kick. "Take down your goggles, Laurie!" Chuck said next to my shuddered shoulder. I was skittish as hell. Once they saw my guy-face and that I didn't really have tresses down to there I was a dead meat party pooper. I was wondering what to say or do when Chuck did it for me, by lifting my goggles up off my face. "There, that's better!" he said to my momentary fright. "Way prettier that way!" Prettier?? Maybe he was assuming too much in the low light! Still, I blushed in denial. Huddled shoulder to shoulder on the floor, we all broke into song and punch and I sipped the invigorating cider, feeling evermore more relaxed and bubbly to join in giggles and cheer. Soon, our jubilation seemed to mellow with the dying pyre and each couple seemed to draw back into the flickering dark into soft huddled knots staring at the fire and solemnly musing the universe while sipping more of that invigorating cider between sly little giggles and cooing and soft panting. I had four cups myself that warmed me up enough yet left me a little drowsy and staring at the crackling fire like a dull TV show. Suddenly I realized with a tardy start that Chuck's arm had twined around my waist and my head almost resting on his shoulder. I'd no idea how long I'd lolled against him so, yet somehow I didn't really care that much. like I was being protected and comforted by a gallant while I felt so lighthearted and cheery and reckless. And I could hear my muted padded heart thump like delicious fear. After a while I felt my ski goggles being lifted away and Chuck softly said with a smile. "Now you really are beautiful." Beautiful? Me?? My gizzards giggled. "I'm not beautiful!" my skittish male ego managed to twitter despite being tickled by the crazy flattery and Chuck smiled and I startled as his nose nuzzled mine. I gasped aback. Geese! "Easy, babe, easy..." Chuck gently said with a warm smile, his hand clasping my chin. In the moment I sensed what was going to happen next, yet I lazily didn't care even as I sucked breath at the shocking forbidden and damned touch of alien guy lips upon mine. Oh no--!! Alien, forbidding, damning lips, but my witless brace of male ego's instinctive cringe lasted for a few seconds before submerging back into the warm swimmy reckless feeling enveloping me. Uhhhhhh......woooow.... And I even giggled at the crazy damning insult of it. Gee! Despite my apprehensions and frets the world hadn't collapsed, and that really felt so...nice... "So nice..." Chuck breathed into my ear as his lips went along my chin and throat while his deft palms stroked my flank and hips. Electric fires flickered my ever nerve ending and I felt myself move against him. Any thoughts that we were guys were not only irrelevant but nonexistent. I lived only for the awesome novel sensations flooding me and I steeped in a hot honey-thick daze. Uhhhhhhhhh..... Hazily, I felt a deft foreign hand zip down the front of my ski suit and I just giggled at his boldness as sly lips brushed my neck and upper chest then a deft palms entered my hilly sweater and for a moment I felt his hand clasp a balled sock-- Chuck made a sound, like a muted swear of disappointment and disenchantment, and suddenly in a queer way I felt abashed and ashamed but then, at the same time, almost like some kind of ESP or genetic affinity I sensed Chuck's mental shrug of sympathy toward less endowed girls making do and he continued on, his hand opened under the sock so his palm could rub and massage my beady nipple. A rush of electric weakness flowered me and my head fell back and closed my eyes to ride the surge while a busy palm hardened my boy-bead. Oh awesome...!!! Faintly I could hear the others off away in their own corners in the chilly dark, rasping and moaning and heaving. In a haze I saw them, the guys up to their elbows caressing and fondling inside their bunnies' unzipped suits. It was way too cold to peel anything off, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe I could get away swimming in these awesome sensations without being caught "So beautiful..." Chuck nibbled in my ear as I felt deft caterpillars straying down to my flat navel and inciting waves of sweet tickling fluttering waves through me. Uhhhhhh..... Oh God!.... Caterpillars trickled deeper under my unzipped front and under the waistband of my BVDs but I was too enraptured to care, even when I dimly felt something slyly groping below stub against-- Chuck suddenly stiffened. "What the--??" he nearly blurted aloud such that the others must've heard him. The ire of his voice penetrated my rapture as something fearful seized me and rattled the sweet haze from my skull and I opened my eyes to see Chuck glowering into my face, his incredulous eyes turning into a quick seething burn. My spine went colder than the icicles hanging off the roof. Oh Geese!! He--felt! He knew!! I was sure he was going to thrash the shit out of me on the spot then I'd be mocked like hell all the way to the lodge and bus home-- If I wasn't murdered and left for dead out here! "OHHHH..UHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Mindlessly we both turned at Karen's long moan of ecstasy lolling under Jason, and several of the other guys smugly grinned their way as though at an example, except Chuck who turned at me with the outrage of betrayal. Then by the red glow of the heath's embers the fury on his face turned into a sardonic leer and his hand angrily shoved back inside the crotch of my ski suit and I gasped at the firm vice clamp my stiffen member. "Oh yea, sweet pretty Lau--rie--!!" his sardonic low growl vented into my ear. "Let's hear you sing, huh??" My fright and bemusement lasted several moments then the vice around my member started to squeeze and knead like a hastily milkmaid on a reluctant cow and I gasped. Another man's hand had possessed my stick and I was petrified. I was already hard from his previous fondlings so it didn't take much to tip me over so my body suddenly went rigid as the electric spasms racked my soul and I felt my essence deflate into a weary lull. I felt Chuck's hand worm out of my crotch and pushed a fist before my face, coated with a pale white cream. "Lick it!" he hissed just low enough for only me to hear, and too frightened to deny his wrath I fretfully extended my tongue and tasted my brackish cum. "Lick it all off! Quick!!" It was gross but I was too scared to recoil as my grimace licked clean his fist then his hand whipped back to my groin again and started to knead my flaccid member then his mouth was on mine again. I was too frightened to recoil or flee, all alone with strangers out in the deep woods. "Hold me--tight!!" Chuck glowered into my ear and I obeyed as his fondlings inside my ski suit continued on as me before. A dim intellectual part of my mind said that he was just doing it for show to the others; showing that he was way too macho to expose me as a boy who fooled him so to this point. That notion partly relieved me but I dreaded what was going to happen when everything was over. I gasped. His gropings in my crotch was slower and even more gentler than before and I felt oddly receptive of it, as though some quarter of my mind wondered how well alien hands could work me up over my own bedroom routines. Well, Chuck was sure good because I felt my slow swell amid a new flutter of weak waves cascading through me that quickened my breath. His palms smoothed my flanks and tingled my warm tingling skin and his tongue pushed past my skittish guarding lips to tag and tangle and tease the wet muscle within. It was insane, but even as I feared his smothered ire I sensed a queer reassuring ease as he proceeded to pet and fondle me in ways only hours before were totally damningly unthinkable to me. Oh Jesus!..... It was probably around midnight when the hearth flickered out for good and signaled a close to everyone's swaddled orgy and we tiredly zipped up and snapped on our skies and made our way in separate couples back toward Hunter under a bright near full moon. Chuck walked next to me but said nothing and in a way that made me feel oddly forsaken. My mind was a mess of self-contradictions and tattered self-image, shredded by sensations and feelings I never dreamt slumbered in me. My buffeted male ego tried to hold on to my self-esteem with the excuse that I was a victim, not a contaminated convert to gaydom. We reached the Base Lodge and we split up to each one's own room. Despite myself, my heart beat like jungle drums as Chuck followed me to my hallway and I paused before my door facing him, unsure what to say or how to act. It was so weird. Here I was, standing nervous as a schoolgirl on a first date before another boy who in a few unreal tender hours had utterly stripped me of my self-respect and self-regard as a boy. Well, maybe not totally stripped me. Even in my early rapture I glanced with awe and appall as the other bunnies in the cozy dim around us leaned their sucking faces into their ski jocks' unzipped flies. Maybe Chuck saw the instinctive terror in my eyes or maybe it was something else. A giggling couple popped out a door on their way to a party and gave us a "okay sign" and arm in arm skipped off. Chuck smiled and toyed with the drawstring of my hood and preened its Angora fluff framing my face. "Not a bad snow bunny at all!..." Chuck seemed half-quipped to himself before his smile pecked my nose and tingled me all over, and as though a switch snapped in me my toes lifted to lean into him so my lips could chase his for brief cling and breathlessly fell back. It was insane but I felt so totally recklessly deep for him, like he was everything and all I ever wanted or cared about! So what if he's a boy! Chuck gently clasped my hips, not so much as to possess as to keep me at bay. "You're very nice, Laurie..." he said with a grudging pause, staring funny into my panting eyes, "but--go inside now." The dismissing finality of his tone took me aback, feeling at once bewildered and slighted. "Aren't you coming?" He shook his head. "No...I better not." "Don't you--like me??" I asked and pleaded with a reasonless vehemence that utterly boggled me and made me push back into his bracing hands. He smiled and momentarily touched my chin. "I do like you, Laurie...but I don't hate you that much." "But--it wouldn't be hate!" I weakly said in a drifting confused voice. He soberly grinned and looked at me funny. "You're not gay, right?" he gently asked as though he already guessed, and bemused and uncertain how to really answer I shook my head and he nodded almost ruefully. "Yea, see...it's better you go inside." "But it doesn't matter--" "Does matter," he admonished in a deeper voice. "I was pissed that you tricked me like that and I tried getting back at you by making you feel worst than whipped...but, I don't wanna murder you." "Murder?" "Your being a guy," he said if almost regretting it. "Sure, you messed with my mind...but I don't wanna ruin a--a guy's life either." "You're not ruining my life!" "Got any girlfriends?" he asked and I demurring shrugged of something somehow not very relevant now. "Er, a few..." "Just 'friends'?" he asked as if I was talking about my sister. "They're--okay. Why?" "Think you better get serious with them," he kind of admonished almost ruefully. "But--I like you better!" I issued with a vehemence startling me. He shook his head. "You're still high from getting stroked and juiced," he said, gazing into my eyes like some examining doctor. "You're not thinking clear, like some puppy-love shy girl on her first date eager to get laid." He said it to be mean, as though to discourage me. "So what?" "So I did enough already screwing with your pretty skull. I just wanted to punish you, not turn your life inside out. You're really what--fifteen, sixteen? Just a kid. Only creeps do kids." "I'm old enough!" I asserted, confused by his rejection and my blind stubbornness. "You didn't care before in the cabin!" "That was because of the cider and I didn't want to look a loser to my friends getting fooled by a bogus babe." "Is that why you didn't make me give you head like the other girls were doing?" I quipped, half-thankfully, half regrettably. Chuck looked at me. "Partly." "I--I would've, if you asked," I asserted with reflective uncertainty. "Sure. And later on I couldn't look myself in the mirror and call myself a man if I made you, a boy. Bad enough I was beating off someone else's dick like that! I never messed with anyone elses' in my friggin' life!" He gently touched my lips if awed being reminded of something. "I never kissed a boy before...never tasted another guy's cum in a kiss before... never moved on one like that before. You kinda made me forget I was and what you are, and it's scary as hell." He shook his head. "No. Much as I'd like you, I can't Laurie. I can't start hitting on guys...even if they're nice and pretty as you." Suddenly feeling insanely desperate I hopped to my toes and tried to press lips but was only able to brush his before he pulled back. "Chuck, I know I'm not a real girl but I'll be one as close as I can, please--!" "No, Laurie--" his voice hardened "--Lawrence! Get over it, okay??" he warned with a poker face as though struggling with a lie. His hand pushed past my elbow to open my door behind me. "Lock the door and forget tonight. While you're still a guy." A flurry of tugging sexual allegiances rushed my mind; Listen to him, asshole! He's trying to keep yours open! Suddenly I felt like one in my svelte pink ski suit; very soft, small and yielding, as though I was transforming within its polyester cocoon. I lifted wide dewy eyes up to him. "Suppose I said that...that I was a girl?" I very softly pleaded. He frowned. "What?" "Suppose I said that--that I was really girl deep inside? That--that I was born in the wrong body and always felt this way?" Chuck made a wary smirk. "Nice try, but you didn't come here thinking that." "How do you know? Why do you think I was out the slopes all in pink and passing as a girl for guys to pick me up and move on me and come inside my clothes and stroke me up and all??" I passionately fibbed to his poker face. "I always felt like a girl, and I was trying to be one out the open. You weren't doing anything wrong. It's just my body that's wrong matching my mind. I'm really a girl, see??" Chuck looked at me if probing for a lie and my fingers hooked his jacket's belt as my toes lifted to press his lips which for a moment obliged me then peeled back. He shook his head. "Laurie--" "I know you want me, and I'll try to be like a real girl if you let me. I'll give you head and let you have me and everything! Please!" I kissed his chin and cheeks then he gently grasped my hands down. "Damn!" he swore aloud, mulling over. "Do you really feel that way deep inside? That you're really a girl?" "Yes! I am!" I asserted and he wistfully touched my face. "Sure pretty enough for one..." "I am one!" I asserted and I moved up and pressed my padded suit against his and his hands clasped my hips and gently stroked, sending weak ripples up my flanks. "Damn it. Laurie..." he grumbled before my lips smothered his complaint and I gave myself to him. He pulled back with a funny sly smile. "Alright...let's have a party first, okay?" "Yes!" I beamed, feeling his arm around my waist as he walked me back to the main lodge where his room was. He took out some overproof Vodka and poured some over ice for me and we toasted. I coughed that the 200 proof and he chuckled and coaxed me for more. "Sure?" he asked to my bubbly nod and he poured another shot for me to knock back then he perched his bed and I flowed upon his lap in eager anticipation of the unknown. I giggled as his hand unzipped the front of my suit and his palm went wild inside it, eliciting weak waves from my stroked tiny breast-beads. I panted as his head dropped inside my fake bosom and his lick teased and licked my primed beads. I heard a funny raspy sound escape my throat as my head fell back and my eyes closed under his delicious attack. As the sweet darkness swirled and suffocated me the last I felt were caterpillars dance upon my fluttering navel. Ohhhhhhhhhh....... I stirred up to the sun drenching the window and was surprised to see my lodge bedroom. Oh, wow! Head's swimming like a mother! My room? But I don't remember coming back! I stumbled out of bed and looked around. Charlotte's ski suit was hung up in the closet. I never hung up anything. My door knocked and I nearly flew to wrest it open to see-- "My, Lawrence! Don't say you can't wait to leave us!" quipped the resort receptionist. "Your bus leaves in an hour." "Hour?" I brushed my tousled hair, totally bemused as she closed the door and I shuffled to the window, struggling to remember a whole night of passion in Chuck's room before darkness overtook me. Oh Geese! Why can't I remember being in his room and--?? My silent male ego kicked my senses. Jesus, what am I saying? Why would I want to remember such an scathing effacement of my person and soul? I shook my head and sat down and got my self-respect and senses together then packed and threw on some clothes and spent twenty minutes surveying the slopes and public lodges, my chest pounding with dismay in my failed sightings. The bus beckoned and soberly I waited in the outdoors bench apart from other departures, reflecting what and who I was. "It's a good thing you're a dude again." I gasped and spun. Chuck! For a moment I felt a reckless impulse to jump up and hung him, yet almost as swiftly I felt a wash of embarrassment. "I thought about not saying good-bye, but I don't want you to think I'm a creep." "You're not any creep," I said with eerie weak softness, somehow feeling oddly uncomfortable. "My head's still swimmy from--last night." He mildly chuckled. "Good. You went out like a light. I was wondering how much it'd take to tip you even after all that cider." "You--you wanted me to pass out? Why??" Chuck smiled. "For you...for me. I guess I'm not ready to lay a boy yet, even gorgeous guys whose pretty heads aren't screwed on straight." I felt a funny slight and a insult, yet that too seemed to mellow and I felt strangely abashed, as though realizing a bad dream awaken. "Oh Jesus..." I softly swore at myself. Chuck smiled. "Hey, I got sucked in too. A swarmy winter fantasy, cuddled up all alone in the snowy woods, hot spiked cider and the whiff of hotter sex all around...and a phony playmate to share it with...yea, I kinda lost my head too." "'Cause I didn't give any!" I quipped and he chuckled and our eyes met long. "Was it...was it all just from being stoned? Just a--a drunken game, feeling that way about you??" I wondered aloud and he looked up the snowy mount. "Maybe, just for a short time we went deleteriously insane," he softly demurred. "Something that'll keep our manhoods intact." "I didn't feel like..." I bit my lower lip, half-ashamed that I had nearly crossed the chasm. "I...I would've let you...let you, have me...a guy." "And I would've wondered about myself the same way doing it, so you see, it was better this way--dude." he said, elbow-jabbing me. "Find some girlfriends to help you forget about it, 'kay?" The bus pulled up and I lugged my suitcase to the baggage bay and Chuck carried my smaller case with Charlotte's ski suit inside. "You're one foxy chick, Laurie," Chuck japed at the case as though talking to a girl. "Wish I could say I'm sure gonna miss you." The bus driver stowed my bags and Chuck walked me to the passenger door then a rush of lingering doubts snapped in me. "I don't believe it was all just cider and feeling good cuddling together!" I gushed. "I know how I--how I felt! Really felt!" "Look, I knew that 'I'm really a girl inside' stuff was just tipsy crap. You just felt the excitement and thrill of the secret girl buried way deep inside you, inside every guy, even me, but I petted her out of you with fear and spiked punch, so don't feel bad about losing control over yourself. Chalk it up to a bad binge." "How can I just--write off being--taken like a girl??" I rued and Chuck paused, somehow hesitant and ashamed and somber. "For a while, after you conked out, I held you tight to me...felt you up...stroked you down...kissed you..." He stopped and looked at me like a confession meant to assuage another. "Yea...I though about peeling you down and pushing my prick deep 'tween your butt...and you wouldn't known squat during or after, but I fought it off. Barely. I can hold my liquor great. I knew what I was doing. Who I was laying with...and I didn't care. I wanted you like a chick...but I just held you tight up against my front and fell to sleep that way. I woke up just before my alarm clock to carry you back in your room." "Why didn't you do it...have me?" I wonderingly asked and his crooked smile scared me, if some old haunting memory flitted him uninvited. Looking aside, he shrugged if nonchalant dismissing it. "Like I said...I couldn't do that to an innocent dude." Something made me feel sorry for him, terribly sorry. "Thanks..." "Just don't come back here, hear dude?!" Chuck admonished with a grin. "I might not let you off so easy next time, pretty boy." Though I felt myself brace from slight. I felt on an eerie wistfulness and gratitude in a twilight zone between possessive masculine feelings and wanting to dump them for sweet immersion in delicious damnation. I mugged up and sashayed up to Chuck. "Afraid, macho man??" I quipped daringly like an overacting starlet with fluttering eyelashes and Chuck grinned, licking his lips. "Well, if you do, you better get a piece of girl ass first while you can and want to, gorgeous!" "When I do, it'll because I'm not so innocent," I uttered with a boldness startling me and as though startled and intrigued Chuck's hands went to my ears and gently drew up my locks along my face as though imagining it framed by fluffy tresses. "Coming back a buddy or bunny?" he warned in a soft chuckle, gazing me fondly and I could see him pine Laurie in his eyes and I sensed deep my bosom how he really wanted to part then he abruptly shrugged and moved off. "Watch yourself, doll!" I smiled and stepped on the bus and at the window seat I pressed my palm to the glass and Chuck hesitantly pressed his to mine and I saw his eyes imagine me as another again and the dark anguish behind them. I was grateful and lamenting, and on impulse I briefly pressed my lips full on the glass and Chuck beamed and waved as the bus pulled away. I wasn't sure exactly what we had shared or nearly enjoyed, but my feelings were ambiguous as were grateful for not wholly finding out. Perhaps it was true, that he had kindled and stroked alive the recessive female buried the primal depths of my brain, flooding me with alien yearns and strange wonderful excitement now fading under the foot of my reasserting male ego. It had been an exhilarating trip which I sensed skirted the precipice to a whole other universe of seeing and being myself. I still fell abashed and humbled by my insane wayward reactions and impulses last night, but maybe like the ache of warming frostbite, it was a good thing. It meant that my experience hadn't quite turned me gay...but I could now see that life's crisp freedom from social sexual indoctrination which I never knew before, and knew that my previous polite silent disparaging of such people had wafted like the wind. But now I'd ever be living on, feeling like I'm missing something... Sensing it, I turned and glimpsed a couple cross the aisle looking at me as though amused or curious. For a moment I felt a rush of chagrin which was swept away as on impulse gleaned by hundreds of girl observations, I sat up in my seat and pressed my jeans tight together and tossed my head so my hair went from tousled to fluffy and gave them a silly sunny smile. "That's my boyfriend!" I proudly half-giggled to their grins of settled wonderment. Yea, let them think I'm a girl like they always do. Let everyone think that. 'Cause Chuck said I was foxy. FIN