We were laughing all the way back to our cabin, the air tangling its cold fingers into our hair and our breath puffing out in front of us. All the time Aaron held me, touched me, caressed me. The snow was falling almost too softly to notice, until the flakes settled on my nose and Aaron licked them off. By the time we fell through the door and locked the winter wonderland outside, we were warm from desire and excitement and hardly cared about the cold.

The mattress creaked a protest as we fell on it together, but we ignored the noise--hey, we laughed at it! We burrowed under the quilt, getting warm while we peeled off our clothes. Neither of us turned on the light, because I liked being in the semi-darkness, watching Aaron's eyes glow like fireflies and the shadow of his hands stroke my body. That's what I’d always told him.

My kisses were deep, greedy ones and he gave himself up to them, alternately laughing and gasping, letting me run my mouth down his throat, along his belly, wriggling my body down under the covers until the only thing his hand could reach was my hair. Then I slid my mouth over his cock and he cried out with pleasure.

I loved the taste of him--I loved to peer up at his face as he arched back and screwed up his eyes, his calm confidence shaken so deliciously. I loved to press my hands on his flesh, feeling the goose bumps spring up, holding down his hips as he shuddered and thrust shallowly into my mouth. His climax was swift tonight, his reward for the hot, hungry kisses back at the party. He growled in his throat as he came, half-laughing, half-sobbing. He sighed my name again and again, barely louder than a whisper, although there was no-one to overhear us.

I lay between his legs for a moment, swallowing softly. Yeah... he tasted very good. His cock slid from my mouth with a soft, damp plop, and I clambered back up the mattress to lie beside him. I was sleepy and distracted, and so I was unprepared when he grunted, a sound full of delight and mischief, and rolled me over so that I was on my back, legs outstretched. He twisted his own body so that his head was above my groin, his breath on my balls. "Dan..." he hissed, eagerly. “Let me. God. I want you so badly." His mouth was wet on me, his tongue licking along my own half-erect cock, his lips sucking gently but greedily at the tip. One of his arms was across my belly, like it was holding me down, and his breath was speeding up with excitement. His other hand reached down below my balls to caress me, his fingers stroking the skin between them and my buttocks, and brushing over my asshole.

I pulled away from him, suddenly. My legs kicked out to free myself, to wrench myself out from underneath him. His cry was smothered, but it was a cry of protest, nonetheless. For a second his hand still reached for me, grasping my arm, gripping almost painfully into my flesh. "Dan, no, please don't--”

"No," I said, hoarsely. I was startled by the anguish in his tone, and I didn't blame him for it, but what else could I do in the face of such panic? He released me abruptly and I rolled away, hovering on the edge of the bed. I was shaking and my heart was hammering away in my chest. He fell back on his own side, and the mattress creaked again. This time it wasn’t amusing: it was like an accusation. I could feel his body shaking, too, and there were soft groans coming from him that I’d never heard before.

For a moment, I felt true fear. My stomach ached with it: the good feelings from tonight leeched out of me on a sea of bile.

"Dan." Aaron's voice was strangled, like he was trying to control the emotion escaping into his words. "This is too much."

I know it is, I thought. I couldn't reply--I couldn't speak to him without increasing my self-loathing tenfold.

"Why?" he whispered, but in a tone that meant he wasn’t expecting a reply. He sat up, his hand rummaging at the foot of the bed in the darkness, presumably looking for his clothes. He pulled his shirt back on over his head and tugged up his pants. Then he paused, his back turned to me, his head very still and straight, a statue in the darkness. But whatever it was he was waiting for, it didn't arrive, because then he got up and left the bedroom.

By the time I fell asleep, tired out from wallowing in my misery and fright, he still hadn't returned.