by Sable Sylvan
“Ginger! You made it!” called a voice. Ginger looked over. Patricia was there, and she was dressed up as Mrs. Claus, in a red minidress with white trim, and a matching red velvet bowler hat with white fur.
“Well, hello, Mrs. Claus—Darius must’ve been real nice to get you to dress this naughty,” said Ginger, looking over her boss. “Bear shifters, right?”
“What about’m?” asked Patricia.
“Well, you know—always wanting it,” said Ginger.
“But Darius and I are friends,” said Patricia, confused. “Trust me, Ginger. I’d know if we were more.”
“Sorry!” apologized Ginger. “Do you know how this Secret Santa stuff is being run?”
“Well, you just give your gift to whoever you got assigned,” said Patricia. “It looks like whoever got me got sick or something. I’ve been waiting here for an hour, and didn’t get jackshizz!”
“Oh, uh, about that,” said Ginger, taking the gift bag she was holding. “I got you this.”
“Wait, what?” asked Patricia. “You got me for Secret Santa? Ginger, come with me. I got you for Secret Santa!” Patricia led Ginger over to a large pile of gifts. Darius was sitting in a big leather armchair. Patricia took a seat next to him and passed Ginger her gift.
“Alright, let’s open them together,” said Patricia.
Ginger opened her bag. Patricia had gotten her three brand new pairs of mittens, embroidered with the letters G, R, and J!
“You got the three of us snow mittens?” asked Ginger. “Patricia, this is too much!”
“Well, I can’t have you baking if your fingers freeze off, and if Richard and James’ fingers freeze off, I’ll never hear the end of it from Darius and Terrence,” said Patricia. She opened her bag. Inside, there were a bunch of gift cards to ritzy restaurants in town! “Ginger, this is too generous! How will I manage to spend all these?”
“I’m sure I could help you with that,” said Darius.
“You just want a free dinner,” said Patricia raising a brow.
“Hey, I can pay my own way,” said Darius. “I wouldn’t mind keeping you company.”
“Ha! Like you’d ever come down the mountain for something like dinner with a friend!” said Patricia with a laugh.
“Patricia, do you want to—” started Darius, but she interrupted him.
“Richard, who did you get for Secret Santa?” asked Patricia.
“I actually got Darius,” said Richard. “Darius, this is from James and me.”
Richard passed Darius a simple red and green envelope. Darius opened it. Inside, there were gift cards to the local movie theaters—both the one that played popular movies and the artsy theater that also played old films.
“You know, Patricia…dinner and a movie, that’s a pretty good time,” said Richard.
“You’re right, it is,” agreed Patricia. “Let me see what you got, Darius.”
She looked over the movie theater tickets.
“Okay, I’ll take this one, and you can have this,” said Patricia, swapping the artsy movie theater pass with a barbecue joint gift card.
“I don’t think that’s what he meant,” whispered Ginger.
“What else could he mean?” asked Patricia cheerily
Ginger caught Darius’ eye and winked. It was apparent he had some explaining to do with Patricia, about the bears—err, the birds—and the bees.
The trio slipped on their new mittens and headed back out into the snow, grabbing their jackets on the way. Outside, the snow was falling softly. Along the edges of Camp Grizzlyfir, the soft glow of the Christmas lights was cast upon the snow and made it look like sweet snow cones. Moonlight peaked through the gaps in the clouds overhead, and white specks of snow swirled around, turning all of Port Jameson into a real-life snow globe.
“Who do you think she’ll pick?” asked Ginger.
“Who?” asked Richard.
“Patricia—will she end up with Darius or with Terrence?” asked Ginger.
“Darius,” said Richard.
“Terrence,” said James. “Or…maybe both.”
“Or maybe neither,” said Richard, shrugging his shoulders.
“Neither?” asked Ginger.
“You saw me try and act like a wingbear for him. She didn’t get the whole ‘hey you guys should combine your gifts and go on a ton of dates’ thing I was hinting at,” said Richard, shrugging his shoulders
“At the Hemlock Crew party, she didn’t seem to get the clues Terrence was dropping either,” said James. “You can lead a werehorse to water, but you can’t make it drink.”
“Well, you can lead two bears out into the snow, but you can’t make them play in it,” said Ginger.
“Try giving us a minute,” teased Richard, unbuttoning his shirt. Ginger turned. Both Richard and James were taking off their shirts!
“Hey, stop!” ordered Ginger. “You two’ll catch a death of cold!”
“Not in our shifts, we won’t,” said James. He took Ginger’s hand in his and pressed her hand against his chest. “Feel that? I run hot, baby.”
“Feel this?” asked Richard, taking Ginger’s hand and pressing it to his stomach. “I’ve got a thick layer of fat ready for hibernation. It’ll keep me warm in the snow.” Richard moved Ginger’s hand around. She felt his fat squish under his hand. It was actually pretty soothing. It was soft and kinda sexy!
Richard and James changed out of their clothes. They were stark naked and tossed their clothing in an empty crate by the main door to the camp.
Richard got on all fours and shifted first, followed by James. In the dark, blustery winter night, it was hard for her to tell them apart.
One of the bears tucked his body up like a pill bug and rolled through the snow like a big lump being turned into the base of a snowman. Yup. That was Richard, always the goofball. Before long, he was covered in enough white powder to make him look part polar bear.
Ginger watched Richard goof around, and then realized she’d lost track of James.
“James!” called Ginger. “Wait up!” She ran after James and slipped. Richard nudged her back up, poking his nose right against her waist as she got up, tickling her curves.
“You want some of these?” asked Ginger, scratching Richard behind his tiny bear ears. “That’s right, you like that, don’t you?” Richard let out a small growl of contentment. Ginger turned—James had gotten even further away!
Ginger and Richard paced after James. Richard could’ve run up to James in his shift, but he wanted to keep Ginger company. James finally stopped at the thing he’d spotted from across the field—a big bank of snow. James started pawing at the snow.
“What is it?” asked Ginger. “Is there treasure?”
James shook his head and nodded at Richard. Richard understood what James was doing and plodded over. Together, they started carving out the bank, turning it into a den.
Suddenly, James shifted out of his bear form and was standing in front of Ginger, stark naked!
“Come on,” said James, taking Ginger by the hand. Ginger walked into the den they’d made pretty quickly. It was very dark and cold.
“Is it safe in here?” asked Ginger.
“If this den collapses, we’ll dig you out,” promised Richard, who had shifted back into his human form when James wasn’t watching.
“So, it is a den,” said Ginger, crossing her arms. “Why did you build a frikkin’ den?”
“Well, for mating, of course,” said James slyly.
“Oh, no,” said Ginger, waving her hands. “No, no, no. It’s frikkin’ freezing in here, and you think we can mate in here? On the snow?”
“Hey. Snow is a good insulator,” explained Richard. “That’s why igloos are a thing. Our body heat will make this den nice and warm…well, as long as you help us heat things up.” Richard ran his fingers through his hair and growled.
“Uh-huh, and that heat won’t melt the roof and cause a cave-in?” asked Ginger, raising a brow. “Let’s go back to
camp.”
“I mean, you can,” said James, raising a brow.
Ginger knit her brows. James knew how to press all her buttons—the right ones and the wrong ones! “I can’t let you two freeze to death out here!”
“I’m sure Darius will find me once he realizes I didn’t report to the site tomorrow,” insisted Richard. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us. Go get warm.”
“You two are the worst frikkin’ guilt trippers ever!” hissed Ginger. “Fine. We can stay here—for ten minutes.”
The scene was ridiculous. Two naked bear shifters had their asses on the ground. Between them, their fated mate, looking crosser than a hot bun.
Ginger looked down at Richard’s crotch. She squinted and looked over at James’ crotch.
“It’s not that small,” joked James.
“Is it just me, or are your cocks turning blue?” asked Ginger.
“Look, you’re the one that didn’t want to get them warm,” said James, shrugging his shoulders.
“If I was naked, I’d have lost my parts by now!” insisted Ginger. “You two need to shift and save your best assets before they plum fall off—and I do mean plum!”
“It’s fine,” insisted James. “Although, if you want to keep it warm, I won’t object.”
Ginger looked down at her mittens, her brand-new mittens. James and Richard had left theirs over in the crate of clothes by the door to the dorm-like building. What would Patricia think, if she knew that Ginger was going to press those mittens against two cocks, mere hours after receiving them?
Patricia would think, you go, girl!
Ginger put one hand on the top of James’ cock and the other on Richard’s. She moved her hands up and down their length, warming them up beneath her touch.
“Took you long enough,” muttered Richard. “Here I was, thinking you’d let us freeze to death.”
“You’re the ones insisting on sitting here!” insisted Ginger, jerking up and down harder.
Before long, Ginger realized that the reason the cocks were blue wasn’t that they were freezing. The heads of the cocks were purple and ready to be used for their intended purpose.
Ginger leaned down and put her mouth on Richard’s cock. He leaned back and gasped as he felt Ginger’s tongue press against his cock. Her moans were like music to his ears. Well, they were usually like music. For some reason, they sounded different than normal. Ginger wasn’t bobbing her head up and down on his shaft.
Richard heard a roar of laughter. He opened his eyes. James was doubled over laughing. Ginger, on the other hand, had a frown on her face.
“What is it?” asked Richard.
“Guess you could say…bear got her tongue,” joked James.
“Well, you’re going to have to get down there and help her get loose,” said Richard.
“I don’t think this is the point in our relationship where we should be bringing watersports into the mix,” said James.
“What?” asked Richard.
“Well, to help her get her mouth unstuck, I’d need to pee, right?” asked James. Richard shouted, “No!” and Ginger shook her head, which made Richard wince.
“I thought you would just lean down and blow on it,” said Richard.
“Sorry, dude—not into that,” said James.
“I said blow on it, not blow it,” said Richard, massaging his temples. “I can’t reach. You’re going to have to take one for the team.”
“Just cup your hands over her mouth and your cock and let it warm up naturally,” said James. “I’ll even help you two out.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” hissed Richard, slapping himself in the forehead. Within five minutes, the heat from his hands and James’ hands had loosened Ginger’s mouth from Dick’s dick.
“Took you two long enough,” said Ginger, rolling her tongue about. “I knew that this frikkin’ snow den was a bad idea! I just knew it!”
“Let us make it up to you,” said James.
“Oh, no—and end up with you two stuck to my slit?” asked Ginger. “Who the heck would I call for help, Patricia?”
“Why don’t we do something else?” asked James.
“Why don’t we put the tongues away and just get down to it?” asked Richard, massaging Ginger’s shoulders.
Ginger shrugged off her jacket. James pulled Ginger up and put her butt on the coat. Richard kept massaging Ginger’s shoulders. Ginger put her hands to her collar and unbuttoned her flannel shirt. She kept it wrapped ‘round her waist for warmth as Richard kneaded her shoulders as if they were gingerbread dough. The snow den didn’t smell of cinnamon or nutmeg or cardamom. It smelled of but one spice—Ginger, and her natural musk.
Richard sat behind the jacket, pulling it up so it lay on his lap like a blanket, and pulled Ginger closer. He scented her arousal, and his bear roared. Richard was hungry. They hadn’t exactly stopped for snacks when they’d popped into Camp Grizzlyfir for secret Santa. There was only one thing that could sate Richard’s hunger, and that was fresh Ginger.
Richard pressed his lips to Ginger’s neck. She let out a small mewl as she felt Richard pull her soft skin into his mouth, her bunched neck curve explored by his lips as he ate her up as if she were a gingerbread cookie. Ginger leaned back and let the flannel shirt fall away from her body entirely.
James sat on the other side of Ginger. He pulled the jacket forward, pulling Ginger with it, so Ginger’s legs ended up wrapped around his torso. As Ginger was drawn toward James, Richard followed. Ginger was on top of her warm jacket, cradled by Richard in the back and James in the front.
James didn’t need to rely on his keen shifter senses to notice Ginger’s arousal. She was wearing thick denim jeans, but the heady scent of her arousal permeated the fabric as smoke floats through gauze.
“Well?” asked Ginger. “What are you waiting for?”
She didn’t have to say another word. James undid the button on her jeans, pulled down the zipper, and shimmied the tight pants down her curves. Ginger was a large woman. There were no two ways about it. That meant it took longer for her to put her jeans on in the morning, and it took longer for her mates to peel them off her body. The biological realities of her situation made the act of stripping down that much more sensual. It forced everyone to slow down, to take stock of the situation.
Ginger felt Richard’s hot breath against her neck. Was it his touch that sent goosebumps down her arms, or was it the chill of the winter air? She felt James’ hands massaging her. She felt the dark marks on his hands, the calluses that formed a simple shape—the shape of a bear’s paw. Like so many other traits, this was one James and Richard both shared…and now that they’d learn to accept that and to share her, everyone was having quite the merry Christmas.
James’ fingers curled around her panties, and like Santa jumping down a chimney, his fingers entered her canal. She leaned back and moaned as he stuffed her stocking. As she leaned back, Richard massaged her shoulders, kneading her thick curves as if they were delicious gingerbread cookie dough.
“Oh, babe,” murmured Ginger.
“Me?” asked Richard.
“Of course, she’s talking about me,” said James, raising a brow.
“Both of you,” said Ginger. “Babes. This is so good. Ugh!”
Ginger let out an ugly sound as James put another finger into her canal. He had three fingers inside of her, and he knew how to use them. James didn’t just know how to split a log. He knew how to make her split her legs open and beg for more. She spread herself open, her curvy thighs the curtain to the main stage.
Ginger’s heartbeat quickened, and as Richard pressed his fingers against her clit, rubbing in slow, soft motions, she bucked her hips up to meet his touch. He was touching her so agonizingly slowly. He was just as bad as James. James was pumping in and out of her without giving her exactly what she wanted.
Ginger got on her elbows and bucked her hips up and out. She rolled them through the air, with as much power as she’d have i
n the reverse cowgirl position, but without the benefit of a stable bed or a firm body beneath her thick curves. Her hot body pressed against her jacket. Her jacket slid underneath her as she moved up and down and all around. The heat from her big body had caused the jacket to get warm, which in turn, warmed the snow, making it more slippery.
Ginger’s body soon tired, but as soon as she pulled back, the two bears pushed forward! They’d been holding back, but the time for playing games as over. As they crashed into her, she crashed into them, and finally came.
Having an orgasm in a snow den—that was something to cross off the bucket list, or maybe, the Christmas list.
Ginger lay back on her coat and pulled her pants back up.
“Feel cold anymore?” asked Richard.
“No—but there has to be a more efficient way of staying warm,” said Ginger.
“I mean, we could’ve done it the old-fashioned way,” said Richard.
“Rented out a ski chalet?” asked James.
“No,” said Richard. “We could’ve warmed the den up with our shifts. Bear shifters run hot, after all.”
“I mean, but that’d take hours,” said Ginger
“It’d take five minutes, tops,” admitted Richard.
“So, you two had me sitting here in the cold for no reason?” hissed Ginger.
“Hey—we stuffed your stocking so hard that this entire snow den is starting to melt,” joked Richard. “Think about how hot it’d be in here if we’d heated up the den before getting you hot and bothered!”
“Well, you know what I’m thinking of?” asked Ginger.
“How to castrate us using only snow?” asked James.
“I’m annoyed this den wasn’t warm before because I didn’t want to fuck in the cold,” admitted Ginger. “But, you know…this little cave did end up getting warm after all.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” asked James.
“I’m just saying that if we let this nice, cozy snow den go to waste, we might just get on the naughty list,” purred Ginger. “Round two?”