Your stubble is rough on my smooth hands. It would be rough against my inner thighs too but that is not for now. This moment is about you.I press, eve... so gently, on your lips till they part, tasting the coffee on your tongue. I withdraw, smiling at your upturned face and your closed eyes as I unbutton your shirt slowly. It is an awkward angle and I need to drop down to my knees to disrobe you. You instinctively spread your muscular thighs for me and pull your shirt off as the last button comes. The man I had tackled stood up and looked at me. The hood hid his face, but not the piercing thoughts he projected."Nautikuus! You should have given up. You should have gone home. You should have died!" that last was nearly spat at me."Not on your life." I could feel the warmth returning to my hands. For that matter, the snow felt warmer than the cold that had enveloped my hands. So, he could fight with fire and cold ... or was it something else?"Where is my family?" They are no longer your. More

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