"No. I think my manly pride can handle it."
"Good. Let's go into town, hey?"
Sam pulls on her snowsuit and boots while I grab my parka and gloves. I wasn't prepared for a blizzard, but I did bring warm clothes. Not the sort for a snow emergency and a wild ride on a pink beast, though. Maybe I can correct that mistake.
As we're walking out the door, I ask, "Is there a shop in town where I can buy a suit like yours? In a different color, of course."
"Sure. We'll stop in at the Discount Depot."
The woman I halfway shagged last night puts on her helmet and mounts the pink-striped beast. I slip on the black helmet I'd worn last night and wrap my arms around Sam's waist. There's something slightly erotic about sitting astride a grumbling, vibrating machine while hugging a sexy woman. What we did last night doesn't help matters. So I focus on the scenery as we roar down the "hill," as Wayne had called it, though this seems more like a mountain to me. Sam weaves around trees with ease, and she seems to be taking it a bit slower than last night, probably because I'm not in danger of dying from frostbite today. The sun shines down on us as we zoom closer and closer to the village I can now see below us.
North Slipperton, here I come.
Once we get into town, Sam pulls up behind a boxy building and parks the snowmobile behind it. The building has grey shingles all over it. I suppose there's a technical term for that sort of siding or whatever they call it, but I've never had much interest in architecture. I'm much more concerned with the female anatomy at the moment.
Sam wriggles her arse, rubbing it against my cock, then slides off the seat. When she pulls her helmet off, she thrusts her fingers into her hair to fluff it up, since it got plastered to her skull.
I desperately need to shag her—properly this time. Maybe the shop she mentioned carries condoms.
Sam leads me to the front of the building, and I see the sign on the front, high above us on the second story. It says, "Discount Depot, North Slipperton's Favorite Clothing & Hardware Store."
"Are there a lot of clothing and hardware stores in this town?" I ask.
"No," Sam says with a slight chuckle. "This one's all we have. So naturally, it's everyone's favorite. That's New England humor for you."
"Americans are very strange, but I think of it as charming rather than a sign of insanity."
She rolls her eyes. "A nation that eats blood sausage shouldn't look down their noses at New England ways."
"I hate blood sausage."
"You do?" She gives me a look of fake shock. "Are you sure you're British?"
"I was born in England, so yes, I am British."
But I'm also Mithorian. I do not want to explain my dual citizenship to Sam, not now, probably not ever. She'd want to know more about my homeland, which would lead to the crown prince discussion. I can't expect a woman like Sam to want to give up her life to be with me. Why did I think even think about that? I barely know her, so it's much too soon to worry about whether she wants to become my princess.
Sam leads me into the shop and takes my hand to guide me over to the selection of snowsuits hanging on a rack. Thankfully, I see most of them are available in masculine colors as well as pink and lavender. I don't think lavender is my color. So I try on a tan suit.
"What do you think?" I ask Sam as I turn in a circle. "Am I fashionable?"
She gives me the okay sign with her fingers. "You're the best dressed Brit in New England. But you're missing one thing." She hurries over to a shelf of knit hats and returns to pull one onto my head. She smiles brightly. "Perfect."
The hat is tan, like my snowsuit, but it also features a puffy yellow ball on top and two knit straps that hang down and have puffy yellow balls on their ends. The girl is teasing me again, and I love it.
She pulls out her mobile, aiming it at me. "Mind if I take a picture?"
"Go on. You can't embarrass me this way. I've been forced to wear much sillier outfits."
"Really?" She snaps a picture, then stashes her mobile in the pocket of her coat. "What kind of silly outfits?"
"Maybe I'll tell you later, after I've gotten some dirt on you too."
"Fair enough." She bites her lip. "Hate to leave you all alone in a strange place, but I desperately need to use the restroom."
"Go on. I'm not helpless on my own."
While Sam trots off to wherever the loo is, I do a quick visual survey of the store. If they have condoms here, where would I find them? I spot a display in the far corner that looks promising, so I hurry over there, in a way that hopefully doesn't look like I'm a sex-starved moron who's rushing over to the condom display. But I do find them there, amongst the toothbrushes and wet wipes.