We take snow seriously here in da Northland

It’s Late Sunday afternoon by the time the plows finally start making any sort of difference, and school’s already been canceled for Monday, so Beth is off work. The two of you spend the remainder of the day in bed, only occasionally stopping to watch TV or use the bathroom and with only brief breaks for food at Papa Don’s downstairs and a nightcap at the bar.

Monday morning starts the same as Sunday did, with a leisurely blowjob. Beth really is amazing with her mouth. She’s always been a quick study and in this short span of time (has it really only been three days?) she’s learned exactly what you like. You’ve also always been pretty quick on the uptake, as evinced by your letting her know you’re awake by grabbing her hair and fucking her mouth like a fleshlight, which causes her to almost immediately cum.

While you’re using her for both of your pleasure, a part of your brain that always stays a little disconnected muses over the fact that you’ve had more sex in the last 72 hours than you have in the last three years combined. It’s not that you’ve been celibate, but while you can be a right charming bastard, you’ve never really indulged in your more primal urges, only using sex as a weapon or a tool in your bag of dirty tricks. It’s just never been a priority. As you fill your sister’s mouth with your hot load, you reflect that it might just be because you’ve never really cared for anyone enough to bother. Now you couldn’t imagine going back to that.

While you use the borrowed shovel to dig out your car you briefly consider just enjoying an extended staycation here with Beth for another night. Everything you need is here, and going to a strip club on a Monday night is sort of like trying to juice an apple with your bare hands. A waste of everyone’s time and a good way to end up with sore fingers. Right now though you really want to get back to your place.

The roads are a bit slippery as you mount the bridge and drive back across the St. Louis river to Minnesota, taking the Garfield Ave. exit and continuing up Old Piedmont Avenue through Lincoln Park. The place you rent here (under your real name, no less) is the second floor of an old Mom & Pop market converted into a triplex sometime in the 70s. Caroline, your downstairs neighbor is a sixty-something practicing Wiccan and lesbian with a foul mouth and a penchant for cooking cabbage in the middle of the night. Her gold Kia Sedona is parked in the driveway, which is surprisingly snow free because your landlord is vacationing in Korea. The cheap bastard must have actually used the $100 rent increase to pay for a snow removal service.

You rented the place a week after coming home, mostly for convenience sake, but have been **** to let it go just based off of the view of the Lake from your front porch. It’s drafty, poorly insulated, has hardwood floors (which for the life of you you can’t understand why anyone would want because they’re fucking cold) and a shitty bathroom that occasionally ends up with a leak in the ceiling thanks to whatever idiot 20-somethings are renting the third floor at any given time. It’s arguably a two bedroom but the second one only qualifies because it has a window. You’ve seen larger walk-in closets, but it’s just enough space for a small home office.

Sadly for your back, snow removal doesn’t cover the rickety wooden stairs that you need to climb to get to your place, which makes you very glad that Beth is in flats. Inside you fiddle with the fucked up thermostat and manage to convince it that 58 degrees is no where near warm enough, then give Beth the grand tour. The place seems to have been constructed a piece at a time by eight different drunken Irishmen. The flooring is ancient hardwood in the living room, a drab beige carpeting in the bedrooms, and linoleum which looks like it was installed by someone on quaaludes in the kitchen and bath (which judging by the 70’s art-deco pattern it probably was). The bathroom is actually smaller than the office and the floor sags at several points.

The kitchen is a cross between modern and ancient with a brand new custom marble counter being the most obvious improvement. You’ve never seen an oven like the one here before either. It’s an over-under double with an electric range (which only has two working burners). Weirdly there’s a giant fan hanging from a wall in the kitchen just over head height. Not a ceiling fan, a plain old rotary house fan.

You can tell she’s itching to see it, so you finally open the door to your bedroom. Two massive closets with pocket doors are set in the left wall. The far wall has a large bay window that looks out onto the deck and offers a stunning view of Lake Superior. These are great, but the real star of the show is the queen sized waterbed on the right wall. Beth lets out a gleeful squeal and jumps immediately on it.