Mr. Owlman has the Blue Coyote Café to himself. It is early Saturday morning. The place has just opened. Outside snow is falling slow and soft. Straight down, Mr. Owlman thinks at first, but upon closer observation he sees that the flakes wiggle slowly while they wend their way to earth. No, not earth. Street or sidewalk. When a flake hits the pavement it dissolves in two seconds. The little ones go much faster. Less than a second.

He is waiting for Amanda to join him, and there she is now, crossing the street. She sees him in the window and smiles and waves as she steps onto the sidewalk. A moment later she is up the stairs and in his arms. He hugs her close. An unmelted snowflake rests on the shoulder of her sweater.

“Hot chocolate?” he asks.

“Yes please.”

They sit at the window watching the snow. “Before you came I was counting how long it took them to melt,” Mr. Owlman tells her. “Snowflakes. The big ones take longer.”

“Good,” Amanda says. “I like the big ones. The long-lasters.”

She takes a sip of her hot chocolate. Then she kisses him.

He tastes of chocolate. The tip of her tongue caresses the underside of his.

He has a hand on her thigh. It feels warm and nice. She moves a hand to the crotch of his pants. Scratchy denim. She can tell he’s hard underneath. She rubs gently for a while. He gets harder. She manages to work the zipper down enough for her little hand to sneak in. His underwear is in the way. She weasels it to the side. There! His cock is nice and warm. She holds the smooth head against her palm. Outside it’s snowing harder. It’s starting to stick to the street. She wraps her fingers around the rugged shaft. “Do you know?” she says. She milks his cock. “Do you know I’m going to make you come?” She increases the pace and pressure. It won’t be long now. There! He groans softly and the first jolt arrives. The cream wets her wrist. One surge follows another. She milks him until he’s empty. They rest for a while. Her hand is slippery from his cum. Some of it is still on her palm when she takes it from his pants. She tastes it. “Not bad,” she says. She licks her lips. “But not as good as the chocolate.” He takes her thumb to his lips and kisses it, then sucks it for a moment. A customer comes into the Blue Coyote and she pulls her thumb free. “Really coming down out there,” the guy comments as he goes to the counter to place his order. Amanda and Mr. Owlman smile at each other. “I might go to the bathroom now to clean up,” Amanda tells him. “Want to come with?”

Mr. Owlman tells Amanda that while he’d loved to help her clean up in the Blue Coyote Café bathroom, there is a good chance some other customer will need it before they are finished.

“Because we’re long-lasters?” she says.

“Yes,” he says, “But my car is just around the corner.”

A couple of minutes later Mr. Owlman and Amanda are snuggled together in the car. The snow is falling hard, covering the rear window, and the side windows are steamed up, but the heater is going, and the front window remains clear. Together they watch the falling snow.

Mr. Owlman helps Amanda remove her scarf and sweater. “Are you comfy?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” Amanda replies, wiggling to seat herself more fully. “You feel good. Your cock in my cunny.”

“You feel good too,” Mr. Owlman says, his hips lifting in a slow rhythm, his palm pressing Amanda’s mound, his middle finger in the slot of her sex.

“Keep touching me like that,” Amanda says.

“Uh huh,” Mr. Owlman says.

“Oh, I’m going to...”

“Yes,” says Mr. Owlman.

He feels the contractions of Amanda’s cunt as she comes.

The snow keeps falling.

Mr. Owlman keeps touching.

“Oh, I’m...”

“Yes,” says Mr. Owlman.

The snow continues to fall, flake after flake after flake.

Amanda comes and comes and comes.

No two orgasms are exactly alike.