Matchmaker Backfire

“Hope this snow lifts, otherwise we won’t be getting much skiing done,” he remarks, looking gloomy for the first time since we decided to start fresh and enjoy ourselves.

“I think it’ll be fine,” I hazard, remembering the weather warning I read not too long ago.

Knowing that dad knows as well as I do this whole trip might be a challenge in more ways than one.

Him for having booked it last year, and me for knowing I might have to put up with seeing Carter with dad’s latest attempt to hook him up.

Calm Serena, Calm. It’ll be fine.

Just fine.

“Here it is. Here it is!” Dad announces, the snowdrift calming itself as if by magic to reveal the newly plowed road that leads to the main car park and lodge.

It’s nice.

Nicer than I expected. The whole wintery scene with bleached topped conifers and yellow windows. The puff of warming smoke from countless chimneys tells us we are in for a warm welcome.

Tall pitched roofs and cedar panels give the whole place a gingerbread house feel, reminding me I skipped breakfast and we’ve probably missed lunch too.

Dad remarks on how empty the lot is, and the fact we can’t see any sign of people out and about, let alone skiing.

“But it’s early, we’re probably the first one’s here apart from Carter,” he remarks, killing the engine right out front and giving me his best excited look.

“Ready?” he asks, and I nod with more enthusiasm than I mean to.

And only because it’s Carter I’m really hungry to see.

Chapter Four

Carter

I’d like to say I’m not anxious.

That I’m not waiting just for her.

But once I see the tell-tale thick beams of fog lights through the thickening snow outside; lights I know only Greg would have, I feel myself getting fidgety.

Almost nervous.

And only because I know I have to watch what I say, do and how I behave in front of Serena.

If she’s anything like she was in that summer photo… fuck.

I feel myself start to stiffen under my jeans, inhaling sharply at the memory of her. Wondering if I should hug her or just give the nod of recognition.

The last time I saw her she was old enough to tousle her hair and bounce on my knee.

Now I can see she’s all grown up.

A real woman.

I don’t even consider Greg, which should make me feel bad, but I can’t help noticing a growing sense of protectiveness whenever I think about Serena.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d rather it was just the two of us up here.

Serena and me. Not Greg so much, as much as I’ve missed hanging out with him.

He’s parked right out front of reception, jogging carefully up the foot deep snow on the wide steps as he billows plumes of condensation.

And I can see her, in his truck, looking out and over towards me.

I want to recoil, not wanting her to see me, but how could she from that far away?

Her body knows I’m watching. I feel that much.

My hand strays to my front, pressing hard against my dick through my jeans, making me groan softly. Wondering how the hell I’m gonna get through this whole week.

Realizing one thing straight away.

I want Serena Blaxhall, the only daughter of my best friend and I don’t fucking care what trouble it causes.

Before I even see her get out of the truck, my finger traces the frost in the window, trying to touch her.

I can feel her long before I even see her.

Greg bounds back into view, and opening her door, I finally see her.

Fuck.

I groan loudly, realizing how lost I am now.

Her thick thighs in super tight denim are topped with a vanilla puffy coat, open just enough to show her equally thick chest straining against a thin cashmere sweater, white also.

My own breath, panting now has fogged up the window enough I have to swipe at it to keep an eye on her.

Quite by accident, or is it reflex? I hear my zipper freed and in seconds I feel the thick, hot lines of pre-come oozing from my swollen length as I pump my organ furiously at the sight of her trotting up the same steps her dad was just on.

I can’t help it.

I haven’t jerked off in ages… years probably.

Never been so turned on.

Fuck.

Serena.

She disappears, but my raging hardness doesn’t.

I know it’s stupid to unload without her.

Everything I have inside me I know now I want inside her.

For us.

Her special gift, my seed…

The shrill ring of the cabin phone jolts my senses but does nothing to diminish my aching hardness as I watch for her again.

“Yes?” I hear my voice crack, picking up the receiver.

“Carter! Its Greg. We’re here! Can you join us in the main lodge for some lunch?”

I breathe a sigh of relief, of course, its Greg. They just got here.