We made it to the bedroom in each other’s arms as we were ravishing each other’s bodies on the way from the hot tub to the bedroom. Her lips were as soft as pillows, her hair as silky as a spider web, her eyes, I continued to get lost in by the moment. I prayed that the afternoon would never end. She undressed to a camisole and her panties, and climbed in the bed, slapping the bed like a dominatrix as if to say, “Boy, get your rumpus in this bed, immediately”.  I obliged. While we would do nothing but run our arms across the skin of one another and kiss that afternoon, by the end of the week, I believed I would have known and would continue to learn about every inch of her.

After a two hour nap, it was 4:30 PM. We decided we could get a few runs in before meeting up with everyone for dinner. That nite, there would be eight dining, and I had picked someplace special. Samantha had twisted my arm into returning to the chalet for some pre-dinner wine from my stash. I obliged.

After a few runs down the slope, we once again took the gondola over toward our ski-in, ski-out chalet, and arrived back at 6:30 PM. While dinner was supposed to be at 7:30 PM, Samantha and I arrived fashionably late at around 8:00 PM. Lee and his date had ordered whiskeys; Jason and his date; a bottle of wine, and Todd and his date had a local craft brew in hand. I could already see where the night was heading. The Birch Ridge Inn was a hit with the whole party; and I mean “party”, that evening. It seemed as if round after round of drinks came without a hint of astonishment from the proud “holder of the glass”. There was no shame in finishing them either.

Samantha and I had already had a bottle of wine; so unlike the others, we decided to take the evening at a slower stride. We did, however, order a bottle of wine immediately on our arrival to the Inn. I started with a bowl of asparagus soup, and to my surprise, Samantha had the same. While one might think that Samantha might go by “Sam” in college; or even perhaps a nickname from home, this would never be the case from me. She was too beautiful, too proper, too kind, to unreserved and too cute to be called anything but, “Samantha”. She deserved the appropriate level of respect and authority that came with the name.