8 comments/ 61472 views/ 7 favorites Stranger in the Snow By: MaxSebastian The usual gloomy calm trapped by grey stone walls and ancient oak pews was different now as she knelt there on a small frayed cushion, her hands locked together, eyes closed in solemn, silent prayer. Sparkling colours and hauntingly beautiful music diffused through the air to blend a hint of enchantment into the tranquil church. In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, At the end of the nave, in front of the altar and beside a majestic Christmas tree, a host of innocent faces protruded from tattered song sheets, singing in exquisite harmony as the cluster of a congregation in front of them sang along under the watchful eye of the old priest. earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; Kneeling there at the rear of the church, the young woman did not join in with the carol singing. Her brow furrowed in purest concentration, she seemed more than a little troubled, despite the festivities going on around her. Beneath her shabby, unbuttoned coat, a spotless white uniform could be seen - the uniform of a nurse, in fact, though the tightness of the garment around her shapely curves might have made it tricky for her to carry out long medical shifts. snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, A brief look at her watch, and she pulled herself up onto the deep-polished pew. Without a sound to disturb midnight mass, she tiptoed towards the heavy door of the church and out into the freezing snowscape. in the bleak midwinter, long ago. Wincing from the biting chill, she dodged between the doddering vehicles, her hopelessly high-heeled shoes slipping in the abundant snow, to cross the street towards the inviting yellow glow of the small coffee shop. Inside, the gentle aroma of roasted coffee and the glorious warmth provided a cosy welcome, even going so far as to produce a relieved smile on her pale face. "Lisa!" the big ham of a man behind the counter wondered up towards her. "Well how you doing there?" "Hi Hank," she said, forcing a grin. "Can you get me a coffee, huh?" "You working tonight?" "Just finished," she answered him, a vacant stare fixed on a strand of tinsel strung along the mirror behind the counter. "That's a shame," he said with a wry smile, his eyes flicking down to blatantly goggle at her chest, "maybe next time, huh?" "Yeah, but you'll have to ask your wife first." He looked crestfallen at that, his lustful fervour subsiding into realisation that she spoke the absolute truth as he handed her the two drinks with a slight shrug of the shoulders and a more respectful nod. "Thanks, Hank." She took a seat by the window, holding her coffee in both hands to absorb the much-needed warmth as she watched the cars driving by, their headlamps straining for visibility in the flurry of dancing snowflakes as they crept down the main street. "Oh Lisa, I'm real sorry I'm late…" She looked up to find another young woman entering, breathless and rosy-cheeked with a small boy in tow. "Hey, not to worry." Lisa's eyes lit up as the boy ran up to her and jumped onto her lap. "Mommy!" "Hi honey! You tired?" he shrugged his shoulders. "You wanna go ask Hank for a chocolate shake?" She handed the six-year-old a few coins as her companion took a seat opposite her, and the boy bounced up to the counter. "Thanks for doing this, Lorna," she said earnestly, "it's so good of you." "Hey, I wish I could do more. It's a real bitch having a shift on Christmas Eve." "I need the money. God, I don't even have enough to buy Stevie a decent Christmas present," her voice quivered slightly as she fought back tears. "Look, why don't you come over to ours for some Christmas lunch, huh?" Pity had flooded Lorna's face, but it was uneasy pity. Lisa wasn't the type to accept charity, she was just too proud. "Thanks but no," she said. "I couldn't." Lisa looked to the counter, where Hank was cheerfully preparing her son's shake, nattering with the boy about this and that, most probably what Stevie hoped he was getting for Christmas. She didn't like to think about that – whatever happened, Stevie was going to be seriously disappointed come the morning, and that was the most soul-destroying thing for a young mother like her. All the kids at his school would be getting countless expensive toys for them to show off as soon as they went back to class in the new year, but Stevie would have nothing. "How was work?" Lorna asked. She heaved a huge sigh, and said: "Christ, Lorna, I think I'm going crazy in there." "Oh?" "I was dancing for this guy…he was awful, I mean real dirty. Just some trucker from Minnesota, and he was all unshaven and all…so I was dancing, and then I just kind of got into it…" "That's great!" Lorna grinned. "Was he hot?" "He was horrible. I don't know what came over me, I just started grinding against his hard-on, you know? I never do that." She shuddered. "Something just kind of happened to me – next thing I knew, my thong was off and I had his horrible hairy face locked between my thighs." "So did you get his phone number?" "God, no! I have never been so embarrassed!" she seemed shocked, but controlled herself since her little boy hopped up onto the seat beside her. "You haven't been with a man in ages, Lisa. It's only natural…I mean, how long has it been?" "Five years. Stevie was one." "You have to move on, Lisa, you really do. I know it's tough, but you can't go on like this. You don't deserve it." "It's just…the men in there…it's kinda dirty…y'know?" "A lot of the girls do it, Lisa," Lorna leaned back in the chair, "if you don't meet guys anywhere else in your life, there's no other way you'll ever meet someone." "God, but it's so disgusting. I mean, those men…you have no idea where they're from, what they're like…it's not like you get to talk to them much while you're cavorting all over them." "But you need someone, Lisa." Lorna was very serious. "Yeah, I know." The trouble was she just didn't know how. * It was well into Christmas Day by the time they got home. Stevie had already drifted off to sleep on the journey, and after she unlocked the front door of her crooked little house, she had to lift him up off the front seat of her rust-bucket Ford and carry him inside. She lay him down on his bed and tucked him under his sheets, staring at him for a while as he slept. He was so perfect, a real little angel. The simple truth of the matter was that if it hadn't been for Stevie, she might have ended it all by now. There was such a huge, painful knot in her stomach reminding her of how excited he had been about Christmas coming, and the long letter he'd painstakingly written to Santa, embellishing it with little pictures of happy people and snowmen. He'd be so disappointed when he found the reality in the morning. They just about had enough money to cover the rent on this miserable little house miles from anywhere, presents were just not urgent. Even their kitchen was empty, no food on the shelves save a loaf of bread and a pint of milk. She closed his bedroom door, her heart full of pain. Why was life so hard? Why did everything go so very wrong for her? What she hadn't said to Lorna was that while she'd been with that guy at the club, she'd had an orgasm for the first time since Martin got ill. It had been such a weird thing, it had felt so very good, yet she had felt so guilty afterwards. The man had got up afterwards and had started undoing her belt. She had come to her sense then, seeing just how horrible this guy was, his unshaven face wet with her own juices. There was no way she was going to let him have her – no way at all. The other girls did with customers sometimes – and got well paid for it, too – but she wasn't that kind of girl. The guy lost his temper and slapped her round the face before she screamed for Jess, the manager, to throw him out. And Jess, naturally hadn't done that, because Jess was a creep and was only interested in money. The rest of the evening had not improved. Silently, she moved through the cold, empty living room and into her own bedroom. The house was so lifeless, so unwelcoming, and when it came to Christmas morning, it was going to be more miserable than ever. They didn't even have a tree. Maybe next year she might have saved enough to make it a happy occasion for Stevie. Pulling off that stupid nurse's uniform that no self-respecting nurse would be caught dead in, she felt a little better, but that dread of what was going to happen in the morning had saturated her completely. She slipped off her damp underwear and dropped a nightshirt over her curves before getting into bed, her body still shaking slightly from the experience she been through that night. Perhaps she did need a man – hell, of course she needed a man. Her own body was telling her that much. And lying there in bed, she could help but slip a finger between her legs, touching the warm moisture there, wondering if she'd ever find a man good enough to take away her pain. She touched herself for a while, recalling just how good it had been to have contact with another human being, feeling his tongue tickling her clit, his lips dancing with her labia, drawing out her juices with the waves and ripples of pure sexual indulgence. He had been quite talented between her thighs, she had to hand that to him, although his prickly face hadn't been pleasant against her sensitive regions. But lying there in her bed, she began to think of Stevie's happy little face, and then about how unhappy he was going to turn in just a few hours, and the sexual desire leached out of her tired body. How could she possibly deal with his disappointment? And not for the first time she ended up crying herself to sleep. * "Mommy, Mommy!" She awoke with a groan. How did he do it? He must have had less than six hours sleep, yet here he was, running into her bedroom, full of life, light and energy. She felt awful. Maybe she was getting old after all. Maybe she was over the hill for a man. She'd be thirty in five years – and that was practically middle age, wasn't it? "Mommy, Mommy!" he flung himself onto the bed and hugged her tight. "Santa's been! Santa's been!" She sat up, brushing his hair out of his eyes as she put her arms around him. He was so sweet. He must have found his three little presents stuffed in the stocking, just a couple of candy bars and a new t-shirt, and was doing his best to show her he wasn't disappointed. What a little trooper. "Well it's Christmas, isn't it?" she said as he bounced up and down, so restless in the need to get out there and open his presents. "Come on, Mommy, let's open our presents!" "Well okay," she said, "go watch TV for a while, I'll be out in a bit." And he scampered off, so cheerful even with the pain of disappointment filling his little body. She was truly blessed, that was for sure. For a moment, she lay back in the bed, so very tired. Why couldn't he have woken up another couple of hours later? With a deep breath, she picked herself up off the bed and wrapped a threadbare robe around herself. He couldn't be kept waiting, whether he only had three little presents or not. She found her old pair of slippers, because her feet were freezing on that bare wooden floor. Damn it, it was cold. She'd have to build a fire – she couldn't have Stevie catching pneumonia now. So, Christmas Day. It felt weird. The magic was there still – it still felt like Christmas – but there was a horrible loneliness now, an emptiness that reminded her that this was the first Christmas she'd ever spent without her parents. It reminded her that she'd never again be spending a Christmas with her parents, too. That was the worst thing about death – that thought of an eternity without ever seeing that person ever again. And in the last five years, she'd been through that pain three times. It never got any easier. Pulling the robe firmly around her, she picked up the small glass of water that had been resting on her bedside table next to the half-read Danielle Steel novel and took a sip as she walked to the door. Another deep breath, and she turned the door handle, preparing herself for the miserable sight of her empty house. The door swung open, and Lisa's glass slipped out of her fingers to tumble through the air, its crystal contents spilling everywhere as it hit the floor, bouncing and spinning until it eventually came to rest. Without breaking. * If she had stopped to think about it, it might very well have scared her witless. Someone had come into her house during the night. Someone had broken into her place. But it was Christmas Day, and there was still that magic in the air, that inexplicable feeling that nothing bad could really happen. So she wasn't frightened, she wasn't horrified, she wasn't in the slightest bit disgusted. She was stone-quiet, stomach-through-floor, eyes-as-headlamps astonished. In the corner, by the fire that was crackling away behind a protective brass-netting shield, a bushy green Christmas tree stood covered in ornaments and tinsel. Underneath it were countless presents of all shapes and sizes, beautifully wrapped in colourful paper. The windows were now framed by plush red curtains made from rich material that slightly shimmered in the light. The small kitchen area was full of food of every kind poking from all the shelves, and the surfaces were covered with little pots of vegetables of a distinctly seasonal nature all ready to place on the sparkling new cooker. The brand new oven glowed and hummed as it slowly roasted the huge great turkey that just about fitted inside. Stevie sat in front of the fire, leaning back against the cosy three piece suite to watch the gleaming new television. And underneath the immaculately tidy room, a gloriously thick woollen carpet, which had kept the glass that she had dropped from being broken by the hard floor. "Oh…my…oh my…" she just didn't know what to say. "Can we open our presents now?" Stevie, with his lack of experience of the world in general, was clearly delighted at how great this whole Christmas business was. Lisa, on the other hand, was stunned. Had it not been Christmas, she may even have felt the need to call the police. Someone had broken into her house. But someone had broken in and filled it with the most wonderful things, had turned it into a Christmas dream. The fireplace that had always had a sombre, lonely character even with the largest fire, was now blazing away in the most homely way. The thick curtains and the luxurious carpet. It was incredible. "Mommy, are we gonna open our presents?" "Uh…wait, sweetie." She just didn't know how to react. She went to the door – it was locked. Double locked. Nobody could possibly got in. The windows – they were locked too. How the hell had they got this carpet in? How had they got this gorgeous sofa and the two armchairs through the door? "I won't be long, honey," she said, "I just wanna check on a few things – then we can open the presents." She rushed into her bedroom and rummaged through her pockets to get her keys, hurrying back out to open the door and find that the snow practically came up to her waist. The cold just did not bother her as she struggled out into the snow, her legs numbed by the intense chill as she waded through it, losing her slippers along the way, fighting her way through the snow and around the house. Nowhere, around the entire building, was there any sign of human activity beside her own. She peered out into the distance, to the trees away to the south, to the hills to the north – nothing. It was the most isolated spot, and there was no sign of anyone out here except Stevie and herself. She was baffled, completely baffled. How could someone have moved all those wonderful things into her home? Then, clambering back for the front door, she spotted something on the front lawn. Her feet were now on fire, they were so cold. The chill was grinding at her flesh like an all-over drill, eating away at her comfort without mercy. But there was something over there, contrasting with the snow, and her curiosity was more powerful than the cold. Leaping, bounding, stumbling through the thick snow, she more than once ended up falling on her front, the icy wetness soaking through her coat and her nightshirt, yet still she carried on. There, near the only tree for hundreds of yards around, lay the possible explanation for all the wonderful things that filled her house. As soon as she laid her eyes on him, her heart seemed to warm up, glowing inside her chest. He was strikingly attractive, the kind of face that might make a young woman feel pain from not being able to possess him. What was he doing on her lawn? Why was he lying there, spread-eagled, seemingly completely unconscious? What did he have to do with the mysterious gifts that had appeared in her living room? Was he part of it? Was he a gift to her as well? Before the questions, however, she had to get him inside, out of the cold. If she was suffering from it, Lord knew how long this poor man had been lying out here. His skin was, almost bluish in fact, and that was not a good sign. She could see that he was breathing still – his breath was condensing in the air, producing thin clouds of vapour in the chill breeze – and knew that he was not dead, but if she didn't get him into the warmth soon, he might not last long. "Stevie?" The man was not huge, but he was too heavy for her. Running back inside, she found Stevie sat in front of the fire, warming his little hands in front of the flames. "Stevie, where's your sled, huh? You remember where you had it last?" "It's in my room." He looked at her as though she was insane. There were presents to open, why did she want to go and play on his sled? "Okay, honey, we'll open our presents in a minute, okay? I promise." She found some old shoes, slipping them on over her numb feet before hurrying into her son's room to retrieve the sled, which was little more than a flat piece of wood, but it would have to do. Back outside, she managed to roll the man onto the sled, and huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, she just about got him inside. "Who's that man, mommy?" Stevie asked, but what could she say? "I don't know, honey. I don't know." Inside the house, she had to drag him, holding him up under the arms. Quite a struggle, all in all, but she managed to get him to her bedroom, and up on her bed. His clothes, strange as they were, were absolutely soaked. As little as she knew about medical practice, she knew it couldn't be too healthy to lie in ice-cold soaking wet clothing, so she set about pulling them off his cold body, attempting to protect his privacy as much as was humanly possible, but realistically such a thing was impossible. And what she did see was certainly easy on the eye. She left him to sleep there, taking his clothes through to put through the wash. Stevie was confused, not quite understanding what was happening, but at last, she came to collapse on the couch, and he was certain they were going to be opening the presents. Lisa, though, didn't feel like opening presents. She felt very, very strange. Seeing that man there in her bed made her realise just how long it had been since she had been with a guy. For five years, it had been lonely, but she'd been able to block it out to some extent. Now it just came home to her how much she needed someone. Sitting there on the couch, she trembled slightly. He was so handsome, it quite took her breath away. He made her hurt inside, he was so attractive: she suddenly felt sure that she would never have him, that Fate just couldn't be that kind, and yet there he was, naked and in her bed. Taunting her, almost, despite his unconscious status. Stranger in the Snow "Mommy, are we going to open are presents now?" Stevie was going crazy with all those presents there. She took a deep breath and decided she needed to stop feeling sorry for herself. "Well I don't know, Stevie, I mean…" She went to the tree, picking up the nearest package. There was a tag tied to the bow. She flipped it over, and it said: 'to Lisa, have a very happy Christmas'. Another one: 'to Stevie, have a great Christmas'. All of the others were the same, one or the other, hers or his. All the tags were written in beautiful script. There could be no mistake who they were for. "Well…" she said, sitting back with pure confusion plastered over her face. "I guess we can open them." "Yay!" Stevie cried out in pure delight. And for a while, she sat there with him, watching him opening the beautifully wrapped packages, her heart filled with such intense happiness as his little face lit up each and every time in pure ecstatic joy. She opened some of her own gifts, too, the many items for her kitchen or her bathroom and her bedroom too, jewellery, make-up, clothes and lingerie - all expensive presents that she had always wanted but had never afforded. By the time the last parcel was uncovered, she was in tears. It was all so incredible, she just couldn't take it all in. And somehow, it was all something to do with that wonderful man who lay in her bed. It had to be. "Why are you crying, Mommy?" Stevie asked her, not understanding how she could be in tears at such an amazing moment. "I…I don't know…" she said, rubbing her eyes. "I really don't know." And he ran up to her to fling his arms around her. A little moment of pure perfection. * Stevie was playing in front of the Christmas tree now, his hand pushing a splendid ruby-red fire truck around the soft carpet, but Lisa had realised that her own clothes – what little she wore, anyhow – were soaked through from the snow. It seemed like the perfect excuse to try on some of her new clothes. She left her little boy there, in front of the warmth of the fire, and headed back into the bedroom carrying a small pile of her new clothes. Dropping them on an unstable chair that had never been used for sitting on and probably never would, she went to the bed, to check on the stranger. He was still out – either asleep or unconscious. She thought he was probably only asleep now, for his face had changed, he had lost that empty look and his features were now warmed by a smile. Gently, she brushed his dark hair away from his eyes, finding herself straining to prevent herself from dropping down to kiss his mouth – there was such a strong magnetism drawing her to his lips, yet she knew she couldn't. He did not wake, so she set about changing her clothes. In the mirror, she saw that the dampness had made her nightshirt virtually transparent, but the moisture in her panties wasn't all from the snow. Her heart was thumping now, as she slipped on the luxurious red and white lace lingerie that formed one of her many Christmas gifts. She drew the stockings up her slender legs, attaching them to the garter belt even though she wasn't going to work that day, and had no boyfriend to impress. Her heartbeat was the sign that she had real hopes for this man. Whoever he was, she felt a small chance that maybe he was part of the Christmas surprise. Everything fit perfectly – the scanty thongs nicely defining her abdomen, the bra with a perfect cup-size, the silky white blouse and delicate red skirt, all warming her up considerably after her frolics in the snow. Smoothing down her blouse, she turned and nearly jumped out of her skin. His eyes were open, he was sitting up against the pillows, he was awake. "Morning," he said. "Hi," she replied, not really knowing what to do or what to say. Had he been watching her changing? What did he think of her? "How are you feeling?" she asked him. "Much better, thank you," he said. He had a calm, civilised voice – completely unlike any of the men she regularly came across either in the town or in the club. He had a strange accent, one she'd never heard before, except perhaps on the television. English, she guessed. Quietly articulate and gentlemanly. Definitely the kind of voice a girl could fall in love with. "I…I put your clothes in the wash," she said, feeling awkward there in front of him. "They were all wet…" "Thank you," he said again with that dreamy smile. "I'm much obliged." "Are you hungry?" she asked. "I have some food on the way." "That would be lovely." "My name's Lisa, by the way," she said. "I…I found you on my lawn. I…don't know why you were there…" She was so nervous, like she was trying to ask a guy out for the first time. He scratched his head, still a little dazed. "You're very kind," he said. "The truth is, I don't really know who I am, or where I am, or why I'm here." "Oh." "My name's Jonah, though. I remember that much." "Jonah. I like that. Well, you're welcome to stay here, Jonah, until you get your memory back." "Thank you. I don't know what to say – you're very kind." That smile that would melt a thousand female hearts. "I have to go put the vegetables on to cook now," she said, needing to get out of there to allow the nervous shivers to subside. "Uh…but the bathroom's next door if you need it…I, uh…I can get you a bathrobe…I'm afraid there aren't any other clothes that would really fit you…your clothes won't be dry for a couple of hours or so at least…" "That would be fine," he said, his voice so calming, so reassuring. "Great, I'll put one out for you in the bathroom." The vegetables needed nothing doing to them apart from placing them on the heat – her secret Santa had done all the hard work. They were done in no time at all, and Stevie helped her to set up the table for the most extravagant feast they'd had in ages. When Jonah appeared, he was wearing a skimpy little pink bathrobe, tied at his waist. He grinned as she looked up at him, for he did look fairly ridiculous. "I'm afraid it's all I have," she said, hiding a smile behind her hand. "It's be fine," he said, sitting between Stevie and Lisa. "Stevie, this is Jonah," Lisa introduced him to her son. "He'll be staying with us for…well.. as long as he needs." "You're very kind," he said to her, and turned to Stevie. "Hi there sport," he said, and Lisa noticed his beautiful green eyes. "You like my fire truck?" Stevie thrust his new toy in front of their guest. "Oh, not at the table, Stevie!" Lisa said, but was too busy readying the meal to really mind. Jonah took the toy and held it up to the light, as if it were a gem worth a million dollars. He grinned back at Stevie. "It is a fine truck. How fast does it go?" "You have to push it, silly!" Stevie chuckled with delight. "Push it? You mean it doesn't go on its own?" "Of course not, don't you know anything?" Lisa watched the two of them. Stevie seemed to have warmed to this strange man. He was normally shy with new people, but for some reason he was opening up to Jonah. "Well I think we should see what it can do." Lisa laid the turkey down on the table top, smiling at Jonah as he nodded his appreciation for her cooking. But now he took the fire truck, and gently placed it on the floor. Stevie was watching, wondering what this strange man was doing with his truck. Then something weird happened. There was the briefest of blue flashes, the kind of thing that you would miss if you blinked in the wrong place, the kind of thing that made Lisa and Stevie think their eyes were playing funny tricks. Then suddenly the fire truck was moving across the floor – all by itself. But that wasn't all. There was the sound of an engine coming from it – very realistic, too – and as well as this, the lights were all flashing and the siren wailing. It was incredible. It looked like a real fire truck, not a toy, although it was only a foot long. Stevie squealed with amazement, and ran over to chase after the little toy fire truck, which duly slowed to a halt for him to catch up. "How did you do that?" Lisa asked him. He shrugged his shoulders, "I don't really know. I just thought perhaps it would be better like that…and…well." "You're a very strange man, Jonah," she said, helping him to some food, "did you have anything to do with all these new things in my house, by any chance?" He looked at her blankly, though. "I can't say either way," he said, and she could see that he had honestly forgotten how he had come to be there in her home. The meal was wonderful – almost like being in a family again, so natural was Jonah's place with the two of them. With his lack of knowledge of his own affairs, he found out all about her life with Stevie, about the accident that taken away her childhood sweetheart, about the mounting hospital bills as he had lain in a coma, about his eventual death and the struggle to keep hold of sanity through grief. And she even opened up to him about what she now did for a living, forced into it after the collapse of her old company. She thought at first that perhaps she shouldn't have told him, that he might now be disgusted by her, think her some kind of a low-down whore. At the end of the meal, he told her not to worry about clearing up, persuading her to go and sit in front of the fire, that he would take care of everything. Stevie was tired – it often happened when he got over-excited. Lisa went to put him into his little bed for an afternoon nap, and came back out to find that Jonah had cleared everything away already. Like magic. "How the hell did you do that?" she asked, staggered. Even the plates had been washed and replaced on the shelf. "Well, I don't know…I just kind of sorted it out…" He was sitting down now, on the couch in front of the fire. "Come and sit down," he said, patting the couch beside him to persuade her over. Sitting there in nothing more than that tiny pink bathrobe, he looked good enough to eat. She felt a slow-burning fire start up somewhere inside her stomach as she went to sit by him. "You're a great cook," he said as she leaned back against him. Why did she feel so comfortable with him already? It was like she'd known him for years – and yet there was that uncontrollable excitement in her chest because the experience of being with him was so new. "I did none of the hard work," she said. "I just put it on the heat at the right time and took it off again." "You have wonderful timing, then," he said, and he stroked her hair. She felt so relaxed with him, resting back against him, his warm breath against her neck, his fingers twirling circles in her hair. A chill rippled down her back - the kind of chill you got when someone was paying you close, physical attention, the chill that woke you up to the incredible wonder of affection. Turning to this man, someone she really did not know, someone who really didn't seem to know himself, it all felt so very right. Whoever he was, wherever he had come from, he was part of the same magic as the rest of it. And unless she was very much mistaken, he was not avoiding her in the slightest - very much the opposite, in fact. Gazing into his beautiful eyes, she returned his smile. "I don't normally get on this well with a complete stranger," she said quietly. "I'd say I was the same," he replied, "but I'm afraid I can't remember." "You really can't remember anything?" "Not really. I remember my mother's face, I remember my own name. I remember places, but not details." "You can't even remember if you're married?" she said. "I don't think I am. I'm sure I'd remember that." "So what if I told you we're lovers?" He grinned, "I couldn't say whether you'd be wrong or not." She kissed him, softly, delicately at first, noticing how sweet his lips were, as though they were coated in sugar. He responded to her, pulling her to him, holding her head gently as the kiss became passionate, the fire igniting between them. Her whole body throbbed, as though he'd just switched on an electric current to run through her veins. As they kissed, her free hand slipped inside the flimsy bathrobe he wore, spreading over his well-defined torso. His skin felt divine, so very soft, a light dusting of hair in the middle of his chest. Jonah's fingers popped open the buttons on her blouse, and soon his hands were exploring her body, sweeping over her stomach and up to cup her lace-covered breasts. She couldn't help but let out a moan as his fingers grazed against her sensitive nipples through the delicate material of her bra, while her own fingers found the burning hardness that lay between his legs. He was certainly a gifted man, in more ways than one, but as her small hand fastened around his cock, he gently pushed her back, so that she lay on her back, and he had the upper hand. Lying between her legs now, he kissed her lips briefly, then moved downwards to gently massage her chest and slip her bra down so that her full breasts were revealed. He planted kisses on the soft flesh of her pale breasts, sweeping around to coax feelings she'd not experienced for years. His lips reached her stiff buds, flicking them with his dextrous tongue, and the sensations rippled over her neural pathways, stoking the fire between her legs. She moaned as he sucked her pink nipples, pinching them between thumb and forefinger to add to the sensations while his strong palms held her cleavage, passing on warmth and hinting at the controlled power that lay inside him. His hands stayed upon her breasts for a while, even as he kissed his way over her flat stomach, he teased her nipples to coax a minor climax from her body, leaving her gasping for air as his lips made circles around her navel. Pulling up her skirt now, she groaned when he began to kiss closer and closer to her smouldering pussy, his lips drawing over her velvet skin to move slowly from hip to abdomen to thigh, her legs outstretched as far as the couch allowed. Her lacy thongs were soaking by now, and she was fairly certain the aroma of her arousal would be very strong for him. Would that put him off? She so urgently needed him to touch her there now, she was going to explode dangerously, and she needed his mouth to satiate her flames. But he wasn't put off in the slightest. A few little kisses on her inner thighs and he moved steadily closer and closer to her lace-covered mound, seeming to breath in her scent as though it was fuel to drive him onwards. His nose and lips touched the lace that enveloped her oozing vagina, and the contact made her quietly cry out. He gently caressed her through the thin material, his tongue slipping out to press against her insubstantial underwear to taste her for the first time, and the raw heat of it sent shivers up her spine. Oh Mary, Mother of God. He was there, right there, it was like pure Heaven on Earth. He had nudged aside her saturated panties and was now well and truly connected to the core of her sexuality. The sensations were just too strong, she was helpless before him. His tongue slipped inside her while his top lip brushed against her clitoris, so gentle, and yet so firm where she needed it. It was like her whole body was numb save for this raging inferno between her legs, pulsing the most amazing energy through her system. And when it came, it was devastating. She tried to keep her mouth closed, for the kind of scream she might have let out would certainly have woken her young son. The orgasm exploded through her body, her juices flooding from her burning pussy as she came more powerfully than ever before. * She was breathless for a while, as though she was unfit and attempting a marathon. The climax had sapped her strength, leaving her helpless there on the sofa for quite a while as Jonah lay there, his head on her thigh, stroking her gently. The phone rang. Always at the most inopportune moments. Why did it have to ring now? She was still on fire, still trembling from the incredible orgasm, how could she possibly talk on the phone now? But it's irritating high-pitched trill got to her. She managed to pull herself up and stagger over to the telephone. She felt so strange, so drained and yet more alive than she'd ever been. Jonah picked himself up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, pulling his meagre bathrobe tightly around him before heading back to sit by the fire. "You're kidding me - it's Christmas Day, for God's sake," she was saying into the phone. "That's just not fair!" Whoever it was on the phone was seemingly not giving her any option. She put the handset down again and looked over to Jonah, real sorrow imprinted on her features. "That was my boss," she said. "I have to go into work." "Oh," Jonah said, sipping his water. "That's terrible news." "I...I can't even get a babysitter..." she sat down on the couch again, putting her head in her hands. "Well I'm sure I'll be fine with Stevie until you come back," he said. "You're sure? I mean...you've no reason to stay." He approached her, sitting beneath her on the carpet. "I've every reason to stay," he said, reaching up to kiss her. "Go to work, and everything will be fine. I'll be waiting for you when you get back." * Work was awful all night. Dancing there in her underwear - and less - for all those big hairy men, while her mind was so very firmly on what she had back at home, waiting for her. The atmosphere of the place seemed ten times as seedy as normal for some reason, she didn't really know why. Her whole body still reverberated with the memory of the afternoon with Jonah, but the confusing thing was that the whole thing made her feel so much more sexy than usual, her mind blocking out the darkness of the club, that burning image of his handsome face and his beautiful eyes so strong in her head. By the time she'd finished her set, the ending music drawing her back out into reality, there were countless men there begging for a private performance. And though she did end up granting a few their wish for a personal appearance, she kept herself firmly back from any contact with them. All evening, though, she was desperate to leave. She felt that every second ticking away was a second she wasn't spending with him, a second completely wasted. It got so that her heart was burning with need - not necessarily purely sexual, but a serious need to be with him. For at some point or other, he might regain his memory and decide that maybe he shouldn't be there in the middle of nowhere any more. She felt sure she would lose him, and that was the worst of all. * At last, the time came, and she hurried home as though her house were on fire. Driving a little too quickly, she almost lost control on the snowy road, but just about managed to keep her vehicle from straying into the ditch. Home again, but she still hurried to get indoors, slamming the car door and fumbling the key in the lock, desperate to get the door open. She felt like Cinderella, that perhaps when the clock had struck midnight, everything might have faded, including the man of her dreams. But the door opened onto the cosy sight of her living room, still with its fine carpet, new curtains, luxurious furniture and bright Christmas tree, all in front of the warm glow of the log fire. Where was he? Had he gone already? Her mind raced to every possible pain she might be facing next, but as she pulled off her shoes and draped her coat over a chair, she saw that he lay on the couch, now dressed in his full suit of clothes, which had obviously dried, while Stevie lay next to him, both of them fast asleep. It was such a sweet sight, Stevie so cute, Jonah so handsome: it quite brought a tear to her eye. But now, Jonah opened his eyes. He caught sight of her and smiled. Stranger in the Snow "Hi," he said. "How was work?" "Pretty terrible," she smiled back. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. How was Stevie?" "Delightful," he said. "You have a great kid here." "Come on, let's put him to bed." She picked Stevie up, still asleep, and carried him into his own room. Making sure he was perfectly tucked up, she withdrew, quietly closing his bedroom door. Back in the living room, she found Jonah sitting cross-legged in front of the fire. He'd turned off all the lights now, so the warm tangerine glow of the flames was all the illumination there was now. "I just need to take a shower," she said, though in reality she desperately didn't want to leave his company, even for a moment or two. "Never mind that, come over here," he said, "I've been waiting for you all evening." She couldn't help but smile, and sauntered over to him in front of the fire, standing up before him there in the orange light. "But I'm all sticky from dancing," she protested. "You're fine," he said. "Stay here with me." Mmm...that was a good idea. As she stood there in front of him, he slipped his hands up her stocking-clad thighs, reaching under her skirt to hitch his fingers around her panties and drag them deftly down her legs. "You looked better in my bathrobe," she said with a grin. "That hardly covered a thing," he said as she stepped out of her underwear. "Exactly." "Well if you prefer..." there was that shimmer of blue light around him again, completely defying reality, and suddenly he was sitting there in her bathrobe again, and sitting there with his legs crossed, it did little to hide his hardness from her. She felt that powerful tingle of desire between her thighs again, and carefully sank down to sit in his lap. "I've never met anyone like you before," she said quietly, feeling his rigid shaft pressing against her bare pussy. "Jonah, would you be horrified if I told you I loved you?" There, she'd said it. Perhaps it was too soon, but it was the truth, so why not be honest about her feelings? But for the moment, she was horrified that perhaps he didn't share her feelings, that it would all be over because she'd made it too serious too soon. "I wouldn't be horrified," he said, his soothing voice setting her at ease. "You're an amazing person, Lisa. I don't know why I know this, but I do. I've never been in love before, so I'm no expert, but I do feel certain that I'm in love with you." His words sent shivers through her entire body. He loved her. Oh God, but it was so perfect. They kissed again, their hands wrapping around each other's head, locked in passionate embrace, and Lisa shifted her hips slightly so that his burning shaft slipped inside her, stretching her velvety tightness to glide gently up to fill her pulsating vagina completely, her free-flowing juices easing his way. They broke off their kiss, staring into each other's eyes in the wonderful knowledge that he was inside her now, filling her completely, fitting so perfectly as though designed for each other. "Oh God, I love you," she whispered. "And I love you too," he said, kissing her briefly. She slowly moved, gyrating her hips underneath her skirt to set up a slow rhythm on his hardness, staring into those luscious green eyes of his to gauge his reaction to the wonderful feeling his cock created inside her pussy. Her stocking-covered legs locked around his waist, pulling herself onto his shaft while his hands opened up her blouse and reached behind to pop the catch on her bra. He cupped her breasts, tantalising her stiff little buds with his fingers, coaxing additional pleasures from her body even as the sensation of his penis within her threatened to send her into orbit. They kissed again, such sweet connection, The most perfect, perfect kiss. Steadily, their rhythm accelerated, their motions progressively more accentuated, Jonah pushing his engorged cock up inside her, Lisa grinding down upon him, grazing her clitoris against his body as the incredible sensations bloomed through their bodies. Jonah slipped off her blouse, freeing her curvaceous chest to the warmth of the nearby fire, allowing the firelight to sweep over her beautiful skin. Lisa removed her bathrobe from Jonah's shoulders, but she all but tore it off him in her need. They moved together, gaining as much physical contact as they possibly could, trying to squeeze the maximum possible sensation from the coupling of his shaft inside her, building up and up until they were both crying out, the feelings surging towards that exquisite one-way street. And breathlessly, they broke apart from their kiss once again to stare into each other's eyes as the full glory of their union blossomed and his hot seed pumped inside her, their combined orgasm the most monumental sensation of all. * It was morning, and she awoke feeling better than she had ever felt. It had been the most wonderful Christmas she'd had in a very long time, even though there was that slight problem looming over her about how it could possibly have happened. That moment, waking up, was perfect. But she rolled over and found that Jonah was no longer there. What was going on? Where had he gone? Her heart suddenly sank through her stomach, with the blistering heat of unrefined dread. Maybe it had all been a dream. Surely not. His side of the bed was still warm, and she took a deep breath and told herself he had just gone to the bathroom. He hadn't left her. Of course he hadn't. The night before, he'd told her he loved her. Why would he leave her now? She got up and slung a robe around herself. Thoughts - most of them negative - were racing around her consciousness now, her fevered brain worrying about every possible dire consequence of his absence. Perhaps he had regained his memory. Perhaps he was married to some other lucky person, and he had panicked after waking up in this stranger's bed. The bathroom was empty. Her heart sank down through her shoes now. He was gone. She tried to keep control of herself. Maybe he was making breakfast. The living room was empty, the kitchen was empty. He was gone. Fear turned to horrified panic. Into Stevie's room: the little six-year-old was beginning to stir, awoken by the noises of his terrified mother - but Jonah wasn't in there, either. Without bothering to look for shoes, she unlocked the front door and raced outside. The door had been locked - that meant he couldn't have left the house, didn't it? But the door had been locked when all the things had appeared in the living room. Those things were still there, weren't they? The new television, the Christmas tree, the carpet. It hadn't all been a dream. Outside now, wearing nothing but a thin nightshirt. She ignored the cold, struggling out into the snow to look for any signs of her lost love. There was nothing: no footprints, no tire tracks, nothing. All around the house. For miles around, the snow lay undisturbed. He had gone. She staggered around the whole house, then to the front, past that old tree with its leafless branches. There was something here in the snow: two tracks like thin tires and a number of dotted footprints - some kind of animal, perhaps. But the tracks started, very suddenly, then stopped. Just fifty yards or so in total. Tracks couldn't just stop. What was going on? But whatever it was, it didn't explain her loss, and didn't reassure her. When Stevie got up, wandering out of his bedroom, he found his mother sitting on the couch, weeping uncontrollably for her tremendous loss. Stevie was confused: what was his mother crying about? No one had taken away their things, had they? The television was still there. His toys were still there. He tried to hug her, hating to see her cry like this, not sure as to why she was so upset. Perhaps it was that nice man. Where was he? Had they taken him away? Was that why she was crying? It was Stevie that heard the noise first. A slight rustle, like the wind in the trees in mid-spring. It grew louder upon each gust of the wind, and Stevie wanted to know what it was. He tugged on his mother's sleeve, and she stopped crying, looking up at him as he yanked her night-shirt. "What is it?" she asked. The noise was louder now, but unlike the rustle of tree branches in the wind, it had a slight musical note: shrill, but definitely there. Stevie dragged his mother to the door, and out into the snow. Looking around, they couldn't see anything: just the wide white rolling hills, the forest in the far distance and that dark old tree beneath low cauliflower clouds. Looking around, they couldn't see where the noise was coming from, though it was getting progressively louder and louder. Bells. Definitely bells of some kind. What on Earth was it? Then suddenly, they saw a speck in the sky, coming towards them. It burst through the clouds and swept closer and closer - some kind of aircraft? Aeroplanes just didn't sound like that. Stevie was as gripped by it as her, and for a moment or two, she clean forgot about her pain - her curiosity overpowering her loss. It came closer and closer, growing larger and larger as it drew near, then suddenly it swept down, in a long arc like a bird coming into land. And they both saw what it was, although only Stevie believed what he was seeing. Row upon row of scampering reindeer, their coats grey and brown and white, their antlers like the branches of oak trees, scurrying along through thin air, their reigns all linked up to the enormous bright red sleigh that they pulled. The bells were jingling just as the legends said they did, and as they came in to land right in front of the two astounded ground-dwellers, they saw the two people who sat in the huge sleigh. Lisa was filled with the most incredible joy as she saw him there: the most welcome sight a girl could possibly have, the love of her life come back for her. And next to him, sitting there with a jolly smile fixed on his old face, was somebody she'd stopped believing in years ago. "Santa!" As soon as the sleigh came to rest, Stevie was bounding up through the snow, ignoring the cold on his uncovered feet, bounding up to the big cheerful man in red, who was climbing off the sleigh to greet the small boy. And Lisa found herself bounding towards the sleigh too, though she pitched straight into the arms of Jonah, the mysterious stranger whom she loved with all her heart. He was dressed in shimmering green now, and for her, the magic was beginning to be explained. It was hard to believe just who this strange man was, even as he told her that his memory had come back and that he knew why he had ended up on her lawn. But later, as the huge sleigh soared back up into the sky with two extra passengers being carried away from their miserable old lives, Lisa knew he'd never leave her, and that was the important thing for now.