Laughter Like Sparkling Snow (c) Copyright Jesse F. Knight (Writing as Lancelot Knight) 2002
E-mail: Lancelot_Knight@hotmail.com

It was the weekend before Christmas. It was late Sunday afternoon, and I had lost a bundle at tables in Reno. Blackjack, roulette, craps, it hadn’t mattered. I’d lost at all of them. Might as well head home, I thought, disappointed and disgruntled. Nice Christmas present.

As I left Virginia Street and pulled onto Interstate 80, I saw the sky was sullen with clouds. The clouds were the color of tarnished silver. Down from the Sierra a swift winter storm was moving in.

Great, I thought. Just what I needed to end an otherwise perfectly terrible weekend.

Leaving Boomtown behind, I peered carefully out my front window. The snow flurries thickened. The snow snapped like tiny beads against my windshield. The wind buffeted my car. Snow and ice glistened on the highway.

Suddenly, I hit a slippery spot on the road. I felt myself lose control, and slowly, as in a dream sequence, the car languidly spun around and around as if it were a gigantic steel ballet dancer. Before I knew what was happening I slid down into a huge ditch between the east and westbound lanes of the freeway and promptly got stuck.

A bit shaken at first, I explored my limbs. I was unhurt. However, I was completely stuck in snow in the ditch that had been accumulating for a month. For a moment I thought about what to do. The motor still hummed, keeping the heater blowing warm air into the interior. However, it was quickly evident to me that I could not stay here for long.

Perfect, I muttered, just perfect! The perfect ending to my trip. I glanced up, and saw a car stop on the other side of the highway, pointed towards Reno. For me! Who said there weren’t any nice guys left in the world? I wondered.

Pulling my jacket around my throat, I turned off the engine and ran to the waiting car. The wind roared around my ears and made my face numb instantly. Gasping, I jerked open the other door and slid in.

“Thanks,” I muttered, panting as I slammed the door and the snow diminished on the other side of the window.

“No problem,” she said.

She??

I did a double take. There behind the steering wheel, smiling at me, was . . . what was she? Had I died in the snowstorm and gone to? . . . no, no chance of that. At least for me. While I pondered her, wide-eyed, she held out a small, well-manicured hand.

“Hi, I’m Lori,” she said.

She was a compact little darling, perhaps five foot two or three. She had almond eyes that in the uncertain light of the storm looked gray one moment and silver the next. She had dark brown hair with hints of red that reminded me of cedar stained dark by rain.

“Do you always stare like that?” she asked, a good-humored smile perking her luscious full lips.

“No, no,” I stammered. “Thanks a lot for picking me up. I just didn’t expect a woman to be doing the picking.”

“Being a dealer, I think I can handle myself pretty well,” she replied. “Besides, I thought you might be a dealer.”

“Not me,” I said ruefully. “I’m the one who pays the dealers’ salaries . . . at least this weekend.”

She laughed, and her voice had a magical quality about it, a lightness that said she didn’t take anything too seriously. She started up her car. “I’m going to work downtown,” she said. “Where can I drop you?”

I pondered. “Reno is filled to the rafters with people who aren’t going to try to make it home.”

She nodded. “True.”

I shrugged. “I guess it really doesn’t matter. Drop me off where you work. I’ll ask around some of the sleazier motels near the casinos. See if any of them have a fleabag they can let me have during for the night.”

Lori hesitated. “Look. The casino where I work holds back a few rooms for the employees that the general public doesn’t know about. I’ll see if I can get you one.”

Surprised, I gazed at her again. “That would be very kind of you, but I can find a room for myself,” I said

“Whatever you say,” she replied, and her laughter, almost like sparkling snowfall, filled the car again.

Lori waited for me in the parking lot as I asked about a room.

“Sure,” said an old geezer whose five o-clock shadow looked more like a midnight shadow. "That will be a hundred and eighty-five a night.”

“A hundred and—”

“In advance,” he said firmly.

But what could I do? I shoved my card across the counter.

He tried it once, twice, and then shoved it back at me. Yep, you guessed it, my card was maxed out.

With a long sigh I returned to the car.

I can see already that this story is growing too long, so I will simply say that Lori—very gracefully, I might add—was able to get me a room on the 28th floor at her casino.

After I had said, “how can I thank you?” about a thousand times, she said, “Don’t worry about it. You can pay me back when you get back to the Bay Area.”

“I will, I will, I promise.”

And again that laughter like glittering snowfall lightly touched my lips and mind, but this time I was aware of a sensual quality about it. Can laughter be sensual? Of course it can. Or at least Exhibit A I would offer in a court of law would be the singing, sexy laughter that Lori murmured. For an instance I gazed at her full, glistening lips, and I suppose she could read what was on my mind. What woman can’t? I wonder.

She stood on tiptoe and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

“It will get better, Dan,” she told me. “After all, Christmas is just a few days away. Who knows what you might find under your tree?”

“Sure,” I said, and I watched her walk down the hallway. Lori had a way of walking that was filled with curves and the outline of firm legs and a parabola of ass that was more than a little inviting. I pictured each ass cheek having a dimple. My shaft gave an urgent spasm as I closed the door.

Forlornly, I gazed out at the storm that was now engulfing Reno in its giant muffled maw. I sighed and sat down. But frankly, you can feel sorry for yourself only so long, and after a couple of hours and a couple of Glenmorangie’s, I decided to head downstairs and see what I could find in the way of a restaurant. I knew the casino had an Italian place and a steakhouse. I checked my pockets. Better make it the hamburger joint down the street!

I was walking through a casino when I suddenly saw Lori ahead of me. Her back was towards me as she walked away from me. Suddenly some monster about the size of Godzilla with about his IQ, too, grabbed Lori by her small, birdlike wrist.

“Bitch!” he muttered, and the word whistled through the gap in his front teeth. “You cheated me!”

Red-faced, Lori struggled. “I didn’t have to cheat. Did the thought occur to you that you’re a lousy player?”

“Why you—” He lifted a beefy red palm.

I’m not going to try to convince you I’m a hero. I’m not. I’m a certified card-carrying coward as a matter of fact. It was just that he didn’t see me coming. I bent his arm back and rapped in the back of the neck at the same time, and he slumped to the floor. A moment later security showed up and hauled the guy away, leaving Lori and me alone.

“Now it is my turn to thank you,” said Lori.

I detected just a slight tremor in her hand. Perhaps she wasn’t quite as certain that she could take care of herself.

“That’s all right,” I said with the proper amount of what I hoped was modesty, false though it was.

“I get off at two,” she said softly. “Would you mind if I stopped at your room?”

Would I mind? Would I mind? Well, you’ve heard the jokes about popes and woods and bears, so I won’t repeat them.

“It is just as much your room as mine,” I amended her statement. And I’ll be damned but she actually did stop by after her shift. By three in the morning we were joking and laughing like we had been friends for a century instead of a few hours.

In the silence we looked out the window at the lights of Reno. The wind had died down and now the snow fell in giant full flakes, cloaking the city, turning what could often be tawdry and seedy city into its own magical place filled with strings of lights—crimson, blue and gold. I drew Lori into my arms, and with a soft moan her mouth opened under mine. Her tongue was soft and pliant as I sucked it between my lips. With a long sigh, she wrapped her arms around my neck. I felt her soft, rounded breasts pressing against my chest. Gently, I held one of the small melons in my hand. I squeezed it, slowly rubbing my thumb slowly, back and forth, across the point.

“Dan, Dan, Dan,” she whispered, squirming under my hand.

I unsnapped her bow tie, then unbuttoned her frilly shirt. Lori shrugged out of it for me. Kissing her again, harder this time, I unsnapped her bra. Her tits spilled out. In the light coming from our picture window, I could see that her boobs were not huge, maybe, but nicely shaped and firm with nipples that poked upwards. I bent over and slowly dragged my tongue across the warm expanse of her skin. Under my lips I felt her shudder slightly. She slipped her lovely, long fingers into my hair and guided my mouth. Her nipples were a light peach color. I sucked on one, then the other, drawing them between my teeth. She gurgled softly with pleasure. I nibbled on the hard tips.

My hand slipped inside of her slacks. For just an instant she tensed. Then with that silvery laugh that was Lori, she relaxed.

“Need any help?” she asked with a slight chuckle.

“Let’s test my IQ,” I told her.

Of course, she eventually had to help me. Seems like the company, which is what she kept calling the casino, had all sort of special snaps and buttons and whatnot. Eventually, though, I was able to slide her slacks down her legs. Her legs were a lovely pale color and nicely shaped. Her hips flared.

I kissed her feet, flicked my tongue between her toes and sucked on them. Then my mouth drifted up to her ankles, then I worked my way up to her knees.

“That tickles,” she murmured but did nothing to stop me.

I kissed her inner thighs, which she opened slowly and almost shyly. The fragrance of her arousal drifted to my nostrils, pungent, with a hint of cinnamon. I flicked my tongue into her bellybutton. I took her panties between my teeth and gradually pulled them down, over the sweetness of her pussy, over the flare of her hips, and down her thighs, white as ivory.

Her pubic thatch was curly, full, and a light brown-butter in color. I buried my face in her moistening pussy, deeply inhaling her fragrance. Then I slowly and sensually glided my tongue over the warm flesh of her plump pussy lips. Lori groaned and squirmed under my mouth. I held her pussy lips apart.

Let me ask you: Is there anything more beautiful than a glistening pussy that wants it? If there is, I can’t think of it. Think of it as a glistening, winter wonderland. Except this wonderland was warm and fast growing hot!

I leaned forward and nudged Lori’s clit with my tongue’s tip. Her nectar spilled down her thighs. She whimpered in response. “Oh, darling, you want to make me all nasty, don’t you?”

“The thought crossed my mind,” I admitted.

I licked and flicked the pink bud of her womanhood. She sighed and whined in reply. I drew the button between my teeth, sucking on it as if it were a miniature cock.

Trembling, Lori pulled me up. She kissed me deeply, hotly. With the flat of her tongue, she licked my mouth and cheeks, tasting her own pussy juice.

“Honey,” she said, and in that one word was a wealth of meaning. She took hold of my prick, which was rigid and red, and guided it towards her molten honey pot. Easily I slid in, but the moment I did, she did something with her pussy muscles that left me gasping with pleasure. With slow, powerful strokes I took the lovely woman. Like an eager little wanton, she wrapped her legs around my waist, kissing me passionately, drifting into that mindless world of pure sensation. She undulated her ass as I rammed my rod home, again and again. She had a way of playing with my shaft with her pussy muscles that was driving me crazy.

Faster and faster I picked up the pace.

Lori was groaning, stretching her arms and clutching at the sheets.

“God, yesss,” she hissed, fucking me hard and fast now. Higher we soared, each pleasuring the other and being pleasured by the other at the same time. Our harsh breath filled the room. Our skin slapped against each other’s, wetly. Her juices, warm and slightly sticky, flowed over my balls. I reached down and caressed her clit as I pummeled her pussy.

Gently, I bite her neck, nuzzling her as I fucked her furiously. She matched me stroke for stroke, panting.

“Darling,” she whispered in that moment of helplessness just before a woman cums.

Then she screamed, arched her back, and lifted her ass off the bed. She dug her heels into the bed. Her pussy clamped down my cock. I erupted with her, spraying a warm stream of cum deep into her core. Together we shuddered and spasmed. Lori, lost, rolled her head from side to side. Tears leaked from her eyes. “So god damn good,” she whimpered.

Lori collapsed beneath me, gasping for breath. Her heart was beating so fast, I could feel it galloping against my chest. Over and over again we kissed, sweat trickling from our foreheads, into our eyes, over our lips. I kissed the tears seeping from her eyes.

With a soft purr, we cuddled and kissed and nibbled in the warm and glowing aftermath of our lovemaking.

The lights of the city coming from the windows stained Lori’s smooth and ivory skin a golden shade. I watched her lovely, rounded breast move up and down with her breathing, and I knew that was the beginning of our evening, not the end.

At first, I was going to title this piece “The Winner”, and I was going to talk about winners and losers and all sorts of deep and profound stuff. And about how I came out a winner, after all, that weekend. But then I decided that wasn’t really the point of my little story. It was simply laughter that was bright as snow and snow that sparkled like laughter. After all, isn’t that what Christmas is all about and isn’t that enough, really?