Miranda
Holy snowballs. I now understand the term “the throes of passion.” It’s when your body takes over your brain and you’ll do anything to get satisfaction.
And I definitely got satisfaction. My mountain man is a freaking beast.
Like serious man-beast. How could I have not thought s*x was fun?
Ew, because I had the lamest partners in the history of copulation, that’s how.
I yank on Caleb’s sweatpants, walk to the door and pull it open for Bear, then shriek as snow tumbles in. Bear wags his tail like the snow is a friend who wants to play. It’s drifted almost to the top of the door, but there are six inches of daylight there, and the sun streams right into my eyes.
There’s nowhere for Bear to go, so he pees on the top step, where the overhang kept the snow from falling.
Caleb app
