When the water began to send up steam into the cold air, Sueanne carried it to the window and let it trickle along the edge of the stuck frame. As the water seeped around the frame to the frigid air outside, it sent up white smoke signals.
"I think you're getting through," Mike grinned and grabbed the frame in his big hands again, forcing it upward with a loud scrape. The cold air blew in on them.
"Burr," Sueanne said and ran for the comfort of the fireplace.
Mike chiseled with his knife at the iceberg that stood outside the window. Cold air was chilling the room faster than the fire could heat it up.
"I think this is hopeless," he said. "I can't make a hole big enough for me to get through."
Sueanne looked at the small space of air between the ice and the window frame.
"I might be able to get through," she said. "But I don't have the clothes for it. I've only got that damn dressy skirt."
Mike hurried to the hooks that lined the back of the front door. His oldest boy's hunting pants and jacket.
"Try these on."
Sueanne pulled the woolen pants over her bare skin and they were too short by several inches but they fit around her. She pulled on the thick jacket with its too-short sleeves.
"Here," Mike offered, "Wear my gloves and boots."
Sueanne pulled his boots onto her feet and tried to walk. She couldn't keep them on.
They laughed briefly and Mike grabbed a couple of towels from the tiny kitchen sink.
"Stuff them," he ordered.
When Sueanne had stuffed the toes of Mike's thick boots with the towels and laced them up, she could walk quite well in them.
"I wouldn't want to have to run a race in these," she grinned as she allowed Mike to hoist her to the top edge of the window.
"You be careful," Mike warned. "If anything happens to you, I can't get out to help you."
"I grew up in this country," Sueanne assured him. "I know how to handle myself in snow."
She put a leg over the icy window edge and slipped right down the six foot ice-hard drift. It was like a slide. She rolled in the soft snow at the bottom, feeling the thick, wet flakes still coming down.
"The log pile is directly ahead of you," Mike called through the window.
"I'd never know it," she called back. As far as she could see was white – and it all looked the same level. She lifted a leg and tried to step through the thick snow. She could feel it running inside Mike's big boots. Her toes were getting numb and she hadn't managed to go three feet.
Sueanne forced her slender legs to press through the soft and shifting drifts, trying to keep her eye aimed straight ahead. If she got lost in this, she couldn't survive. She was only ten feet from the cabin now and she could hardly see it in the falling snow.
She was pushing forward, squinting her eyes against the stinging snow, the blinding wind when her head slammed into something. Her mind reeled for a moment and she said to herself, "No, you can't pass out, you can't, you must remain conscious."
The spinning stopped and she found that she was holding herself upright – by the woodpile.
Quickly, Sueanne's gloved hands tore away snow and reached the logs on the top of the heap. They were frozen together. She crawled up the incline of the pile, sliding and slipping back but finally reaching a point where she could kick the top logs with Mike's big boot. She kicked hard, glad her toe was padded with the towel stuffed inside the boot. The logs broke free and so did Sueanne, who went sliding with the force of the kick, right down the woodpile into a mound of snow.
She unburied herself quickly and took as many logs as she could carry, pushing through the trail back to the cabin. She handed them to Mike through the window.
"I'll get more," she called and followed her trail again to the woodpile. The trail was filling in with snow almost as quickly as she managed to break through it.
Sueanne made twelve trips before her feet lost their sense of reality and she felt a stinging numbness over her entire body.
"Is that enough?"
Her voice was cracking from pain and cold.
"I hope so," Mike called. "If not, we'll have to do this trip again during the afternoon."
Sueanne shuddered at the thought.
"I'm coming in," she called.
She dug the tips of Mike's boots hard into the slick bank of the icy drift that led to the window and managed to get up far enough to grab the open window frame.
Mike's big hands grabbed hers and pulled until he had her in position to climb back in the window. She stood, dripping and shivering in front of the fireplace as he pulled the window down and shut off the cold breeze.
"There's a shovel out there, too," he said. "If we could find it, we could get the front door open."
"I didn't see anything out there," Sueanne said, her teeth chattering, "Nothing at all. I would never had found the woodpile except I ran into it."
She rubbed the bump on her head.
"Get those clothes off," Mike ordered, "wrap up in the blanket by the fire."
Sueanne pulled off the boy's clothing and sat Mike's boots by the hearth to dry out. She wrapped herself in the warm blanket, feeling the welcome touch of the scratchy fabric next to her chilled skin.
"Let's see those toes," Mike ordered and took her feet in his hands.
"They're okay," Sueanne assured him, "they're not blue."
"They're mighty red," Mike grinned, "and mighty cold."
He rubbed her feet, one by one, between his big hands.
Sueanne looked down at the woodsman. He looked very real in this gray light of day – not so romantic a figure as she remembered him from the night before. His beard was dark and rough, growing against his cheeks. He was the kind of man, she thought, who had to shave twice a day. Not like her daddy. He could go a weekend without shaving once and it was hardly noticeable.
She wondered what would have happened if she found a boy like Billy in this cabin. She wouldn't be a virgin, still, she was sure of that. Adolescent boys have no consciences, her father had told. The girls at school said the same thing differently. A stiff prick had no conscience. But Mike's thick prick had a conscience, dammit. And Sueanne watched the big man rub her feet, feeling the circulation return to her entire chilled body, and wondered how to make the big man fuck her, take her virginity, deflower her maidenhead. She never thought the day would come when she had to beg a man to fuck her cunt!
If Billy were with her in this cabin, his prick would be up and hungry to ram into her pussy. But, she smiled to herself, if Billy were in this cabin, she probably would have frozen and starved to death!
She felt truly grateful to the big, rough woodsman as he rubbed her feet. He was a good and gentle man. And that was why she reiterated to herself, she wanted him to have her cherry.
He had hurt her last night, she remembered. Her throat was still tender from the rampant fucking of his thick cock. But he hadn't meant to hurt her, she knew that. And she was sure he wouldn't hurt her when he slid that big cock into her virgin cunt-hole, either.
But how, she wondered, how could she get him to do it?
She spread her legs, revealing her silky cunt under the blanket. She saw his eyes dart up and she knew that she could see it, sweet and pink, gaping at him, hungry for his cock.
He cleared his throat and continued to rub her feet and legs.
"I can think of better ways for you to warm me up," she said shyly, smiling at him.
He moved forward and began to kiss her inner thighs and lick at her sweet, silky cunt.
She remained in a sitting position and held his head in place as he licked her pussy. She could feel her nipples growing hard and the juices of her cunt flowing, lubricating in preparation for a fuck.
His mouth closed around her clit and he tongued it expertly, bringing warmth to her groin. The warmth spread through Sueanne's slender body and she moaned with pleasure.