Summer and Wynter

Summer and Wynter



“I’m sore,” Wynter whispered, the words oozing from her soft pink lips. “I guess I should have worked out a little more before the hike.”

Augustus turned to her, narrowing his hard hazel eyes. “Where are you sore?”

Wynter’s lips curled into an intoxicating smile. “All over.”

Outside, a late-January blizzard continued to rage. Shards of ice billowed around the cabin and the level of the snow continued to rise. Already, it was halfway up the window and the storm made no promise of abating.

According to the forecast, the storm would continue through tomorrow and Sunday, ending by Monday night, and they would leave on Tuesday. Wynter would go back to work at the Vet’s office and Augustus would return to developing photos at Wal-Mart.

Until then, they had the cabin to themselves. Augustus had looked forward to this weekend for months—four days alone with Wynter, four days of flirting and fucking, four days of excess and indulgence.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan, until the night prior.



*          *          *



Her name was supposed to be Summer. Some telephone-psychic had told Wynter’s parents that she would be born in July, a blond with soft brown eyes. She would be a socialite, popular with the men, yet have a good, strong head on her shoulders.

Instead, Wynter was born in January, a pale-faced, black-haired, green-eyed artist. She had a small circle of close friends, and spent most of her time painting pictures. Mingling with the masses had no appeal.

It was the May-born, nine-year-old, three-foot tall brunette kneeling on the floor watching a SpongeBob Squarepants DVD that had gotten the name Summer. She'd also managed to spoil the four-day-long sex binge Augustus had planned.

“What are you guys talking about?” Summer asked, looking over her shoulder at them.

Wynter grinned. “I’m telling Augustus about Patrick. He doesn’t watch a lot of Spongebob.”

Summer’s ears perked up. “Patrick is SpongeBob’s friend! He lives next to Squidward—do you know who Squidward is? He’s an octo—”

Augustus held up his hand to silence her. “I know, Summer. Patrick is the walking pink poop-looking thing.”

Summer smiled, her braces glittering in the warm light of the fire. “He’s not poop…” she giggled, her face turning red.

Wynter’s fingers coiled around Augustus’s wrist as she stood. “C’mon,” she whispered. “She’ll be fine on her own for a few minutes. Unless you want to stick around and find out how SpongeBob saves the Krusty Krab.”

Augustus was on his feet in an instant. “I have faith that he’ll keep that little green guy from destroying everything,” he said with a grin.



*          *          *



When a blushing Wynter emerged from the bathroom after about ten minutes, Augustus was awestruck. Long, firm, pale legs stuck out from beneath the hemline of a brand new pink nightgown. She’d let her hair down and the ebony curls framed her face. Her pale features took on a surreal orange glow in the shuddering candlelight.

With a bottle of Aloe-Vera skin cream at his side, Augustus sat at the foot of their bed. Wynter sat down beside him, her emerald eyes locked on his. Augustus reached to her neck, kneading with his hard, calloused fingers.

“Wait,” Wynter said, brushing Augustus’s hand aside and standing. “Let me just make sure she’s okay.”

“”She’s fine,” Augustus groaned, laying back on the bed. “C’mon…this weekend is supposed to be about us.”

Wynter approached the door and paused. “You should have seen the look on Summer’s face when mom told her that she and dad would be going away this weekend. She knew she was coming up here with us before we even told her.”

Augustus bit his tongue. What could he say? Summer needed a babysitter, but one couldn’t be found on such short notice. Telling Wynter’s parents that he intended to bring her up to a rented cabin for a good hard dicking seemed unwise. But what other reason could they give as to why Summer couldn’t join her?

So the pigtailed brat had tagged along.

“She’s looking over here,” Wynter whispered. A sullen tone had crept into her voice. “Augustus, she looks like she’s about to cry.”

Frowning, Augustus sat up and looked over Wynter’s backside. “These delays are getting old, Wynter. Why is she going to cry? She has SpongeBob to keep her company.”

Wynter rolled her toes over, cocking her foot against the floor so Augustus could see the sole. It was her nervous habit. “She didn’t come up here to watch SpongeBob, Augustus. She has a crush on you. She thinks the world of you.” Leaving the door, Wynter crawled onto the edge of the bed and straddled Augustus’s thighs. “I know you’re excited,” she continued, reaching down to run her fingers across his tented jeans. “But…”

Augustus sighed. Tears were starting to well up in Wynter’s eyes.

“But like you said, this weekend is about us. Forget the massage, let’s just have sex real quick, okay?”

“Get off me,” Augustus grumbled, easing Wynter from his lap and standing.

“Is something wrong?”

“...How can you be thinking about sex when the Krusty Krab is in danger, woman?”

Giggling, Wynter stood up and snaked her arms around Augustus’s waist. “Thank you, Augustus…”



*          *          *



SpongeBob was throwing a peanut at a giant oyster when Augustus felt Wynter’s toes against his inner thigh.

Summer was belly-down on the floor now, still several hours away from falling asleep. Wynter had grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and draped it over herself and Augustus. Now she lay on her side with her feet tucked close to her bum.

And when she was sure that Summer was completely hypnotized by the dancing cartoon characters on the television, she unfurled her legs and set her feet in Augustus’s lap.

Snapped out of his daze by this, Augustus turned his eyes to Wynter. Maybe she was playing innocent, or maybe she just wanted to keep Summer from knowing what they were doing. Either way, Wynter’s eyes remained on the television.

Augustus reached under the blanket and collected Wynter’s small foot in his hand and proceeded to dig his thumbs into her supple arch. Still pretending to watch SpongeBob, Wynter rubbed the sole of her free foot against Augustus’s aching bulge.

“This is my favorite episode!” Summer chirped, looking over her shoulder at them after the opening credits of a fresh episode rolled.

Wynter and Augustus froze. For a minute the cabin was silent, except for the roaring of the wind outside and the cackling of the fire. Summer was still awaiting a response.

“Cool,” Wynter said. If Augustus didn’t know better, Wynter was struggling to hold back a giggle.

“It makes me sad, though, because it’s the last one on the DVD. …Can I stay up to watch another one after this?”

“We’ll see.”

Summer turned back to the television. Augustus and Wynter breathed a collective sigh of relief. Augustus’s hands crept up to Wynter’s soft, warm calves. She responded by scooting a little closer, letting her feet slide off his lap to be replaced by her knees.

Up and up his fingers crept, over the tops of her knees and down along the silky curve of her thighs. Eventually, Wynter readjusted her position, letting her feet drop to the floor and sliding over so her hips were flush with Augustus’s.

Augustus draped his arm over Wynter’s shoulders and reached between her thighs with his free hand. The air beneath the blanket felt like a sauna. He eased the hemline of the nightgown up to Wynter’s hips and pressed his middle- and pointer-finger against the slick, hot flesh he found between her legs.

Wynter’s lips formed a wide ‘O’ as Augustus proceeded to rub her. When a squeak escaped Wynter’s throat, Augustus glanced at Summer. The midget had the cranked the volume and the sound had gone unheard. Figuring it best to keep it that way, Augustus turned Wynter’s head, gagging her with a kiss.

The kiss was supposed to have the appearance of an innocent peck, in case Summer looked over. They would part lips and act like nothing was up. The ‘innocent peck’, however, became a make-out session of subdued passion.

Keeping still was the hardest part. Augustus longed to pull Wynter’s legs onto the couch and pull them open, and plunge between her thighs. Her crotch had become a mess; syrupy feminine fluid coated his fingertips and pooled on the fabric under her bum.

When the orgasm arrived, it was a disaster. Wynter lost all control of her body, bracing herself up with both arms and lifting her bum into the air. To keep from squealing aloud, she bit hard on Augustus’s lips. He barely noticed. The waves of feminine heat rushing against his palm were hypnotic, intoxicating.

Wynter collapsed to the couch and slumped against Augustus, panting quietly. He head fell to Augustus’s shoulder.

“Wynter? Are you okay?”

Augustus’s face blanched. Summer was looking at them again.

“She’s just tired from the hike,” Augustus explained, trying not to stumble over his words.

“Oh.” Summer lowered her voice. “I’m getting some water. Do you want some?”

Augustus shook his head. Summer jumped up and scampered into the kitchen.

“Good cover,” Wynter said, lifting her head. Black hair hung in tufts in front of her face.

Augustus grinned. “You owe me.”

“Oh?” Wynter’s hand fell to Augustus’s thigh. “I think she’ll notice my hand moving under the blanket…”

“She thinks you’re tired, and that fire is starting to die down. It would make sense for you to climb under the covers and fall asleep…with your head on my lap.”

Wynter giggled. “She’ll see my head going up and down.”

Augustus picked up a pillow. “I’ll keep this on my knees.”

“All right, but you better unzip fast. She’s going to be back any minute.”

As quick as lightning, Augustus reached under the blanket, pulled down the zipper, and after a bit of wrestling got himself free. Wynter ran her fingers along his thick, pulsing shaft.

When Summer returned, something was amiss. Wynter pulled her hand back and Augustus, seeing it coming a mile away, pulled the pillow over his crotch.

“I’m gonna sit with you guys!” Summer announced.

Being the favorite of the duo, and seeing the pillow on his lap, Summer chose Augustus to sit on. She ran over and plopped down. Augustus’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as ninety pounds of squirming midget-weight came crashing down atop his erection.

Summer couldn’t feel the bulge through the pillow and the blanket.

Augustus could, however.

Her eyes wide, Wynter clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

“My…Summer…you’ve certainly gotten heavy, huh?” He remarked, getting a mouthful of pigtail in the process. Augustus had learned that telling a woman that they’ve put on a few pounds is usually a bad idea, but Summer was young. Besides, Augustus sounded like Mickey Mouse.

Summer just giggled and made herself comfortable.



*          *          *



By the time SpongeBob ended, Summer was asleep. She’d curled up against Augustus with her head on his shoulder and sucked her thumb, a habit they’d thought she’d gotten over years ago.

Wynter stared at her little sister clinging to Augustus, her eyes warm with adoration. “You’re a real asshole sometimes, Augustus…but deep down, you’re the sweetest man in the world,” she whispered.

“You know it.” Augustus nodded to the bedroom. “Of course, sweetness comes at a price, and after everything this little brat has put me though, it’s going to be a hefty one.”

Wynter smiled. “I’ll pay as much as I have to,” she said, leaning close to peck him on the lips. “I’ll even tip.” Rising to her feet, Wynter nodded at the bedroom.

Cradling Summer like a porcelain doll, Augustus stood. He tucked himself back into his pants. With the pressure of Summer’s weight removed, it stood erect once more, rock-hard and starved for Wynter’s depths. His balls were sore, aching for relief.

Augustus carefully turned and lay Summer’s little body across the couch, setting her head on the pillow and pulling the blanket over her.

SpongeBob’s credits finished rolling. The DVD hesitated, and then returned to the main menu.

An obnoxiously loud main menu.

“Hmmm…? Augustus? I’m hungry. Will you make me some blueberry pancakes? There’s frozen blueberries in the freezer…”

Frowning, Augustus stared at the stupid menu for a moment. He looked to Wynter. The playfulness had drained from her face and she stood frozen in mid-step. Her feet were hidden behind the couch, but Augustus could hear the tops of her toes thudding against the hardwood floor.

He looked down at Summer. She rubbed her eyes and when she sat up, he could hear her stomach growling.



Go back to sleep, Summer. It’s time for bed.

You know how to make pancakes, Summer! Go make ‘em yourself.

There’s a bag of chips in the cupboard. Dinner is served!

Wynter and I are busy tonight, Summer. Guess who gets to build an igloo and sleep in the yard?!



Augustus sighed. “Go get the ingredients ready, Summer. If we’re going to be up late tonight, I have to rebuild the fire.”

Summer’s whole face lit up. “Can we watch the SpongeBob movie while we eat pancakes? I know it’s past my bedtime, but…”

“I guess so…as long as it’s okay with your sister.”

Augustus and Summer looked at Wynter. She just shrugged. “It’s a special occasion. We’ll keep it a secret from mom and dad.”

Beaming, Summer threw off the blanket and sprinted into the kitchen.

Augustus had just turned to Wynter when soft hands seized the back of his neck and pulled his face into hers. Their lips locked, their tongues dancing. Augustus reached to Wynter’s waist and pulled her body against him.

“Augustus…I love you so much. You’re the sweetest...”

Augustus looked over Wynter’s face. She was smiling from ear to ear and her eyes glittered. Her hands were still coiled around his neck, her fingers interlocked at the nape.

“You say that now,” Augustus hissed, giving her a knowing smirk. “Just wait until Summer finally nods off. I’m going to have you all to myself, all night long.”

Something crashed to the floor in the kitchen, followed by a quiet “oops!”

“That’s okay,” Wynter cooed, pecking Augustus on the lips again. “I’ll pay whatever I have to, for someone who can make my little sister this happy.”

Holding hands, Augustus and Wynter started for the kitchen to clean up whatever Summer had broken, and to make blueberry pancakes.

Outside, the snow had risen to the tops of the windows.



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