The Cabin

The Olympic National Rainforest is a nature lovers dream; miles from city lights and crowded high ways- the perfect place for a get away.  Andrew could feel himself relaxing as the truck surged deeper into the forest. Over the past few years, fast paced life seemed to take over and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a real vacation.  He was bound and determined to make the best of the four-day weekend ahead. No phone calls at all hours of the day and night, no internet, no email, no contact with the outside world…just peace and much needed quiet.

Dusk wasn’t far off when he finally glimpsed the slanted roof of the two story abode and pulled along side the structure, cutting the engine.  He pulled out his bags, and unlocked the side door.  The cabin had a rustic feel but was distinctly modern. Beyond the kitchen he stepped through a comfortable dining room, and then into a spacious sitting area with massive fire place and overstuffed suede furniture. He opened the front door and stepped out onto a huge deck that wrapped around half of the structure with sitting areas on both sides of the door. A path below the porch steps split; one led around towards the truck, the other, to a fire pit, a covered gazebo, and hot tub.

Back inside and up the round staircase to the top floor was two small bedrooms and a large, master bedroom with bathroom and fireplace. He dropped his bag at the foot of the bed and went back downstairs, grabbed a beer from the newly stocked fridge and sunk decisively on the couch, and, before he knew it, nodded off.


Andrew’s eyes shot open and he fought through his confusion and the darkness around him to make sense of what had just happened. The last few seconds replayed in his now conscious mind and he realized that noise from the kitchen had woken him; the back door was open. Someone was in the cabin. He lifted himself and peered over the back of the couch, but it was too dark to make out anything other than a figure moving about. Quietly he slipped off of the couch, walked through the small dining area until he was standing right at the kitchen. He reached his hand out and felt the wall, searching for the light switch. He didn’t have a weapon on him, but he was certain that coming face to face with the prowler would be enough to scare them off. The cabin had one break in a year, usually college kids looking for beer. He felt the switch and said a silent prayer. In the otherwise soundless night, the switch presented a loud “click” as he pushed it upward.

Glass crashed to the floor shattering, as a blood-curdling scream filled the cabin and the person in the kitchen jumped backwards towards the door. To Andrew’s amazement, across from him stood a young woman, quite possibly the most beautiful he’d ever seen- that is, had she not been frozen in terror just a few feet in front of him.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, clutching her purse to her chest, “please don’t hurt me!”

“I–,” he stammered.

“Please, just take what you want and go, please don’t hurt me,” she said, her face pale, her back stuck against the frame of the door.  She fumbled through her purse and came out with her cell, which she immediately dropped. It skidded across the floor stopping just in front of his feet.

They both looked at the phone for a few seconds before slowly looking back to each other.  Suddenly Andrew’s heart lurched, as the familiarity of her simple, raw beauty swept over him.

“You’re Camille Boulanger, right?” he asked.

The woman was instantly slack jawed.  “How do you know my name?” she said looking even more alarmed than before.

“I’m Andrew Lucas.  I’m Amanda’s brother.”

Camille squinted at him and then looked as though she’d been struck hard by distant memories. “Oh my God, Andrew? Andrew Lucas?” she said in disbelief.

He chuckled, “Yes.”

“Jesus, it’s been what…fifteen years since I’ve seen you!”

“Twelve,” he said.

“You look so… different! I didn’t recognize you, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s alright. You haven’t changed one bit.” He picked up the phone and set it on the counter, opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small brush and dustpan, knelt at her feet and began sweeping up the glass from what used to be a purple and red vase.

“I’m so sorry about that, I must have knocked it off of the table,” she said looking embarrassed.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, and just stand right there, I don’t want you to get cut.”  Andrew tried hard not to stare at her toned, sun deep legs and he finished sweeping the colorful shards into the dust pan.

“What on Earth are you doing here?” She asked.

He smiled wryly, “you must be forgetting this is the Lucas cabin, not the Boulanger cabin.”

“Amanda said that no one would be here,” she said in an apologetic tone.

“Well, usually that’s true, but I thought the holiday weekend would be a good time for a mini vacation.”

She nodded, “well, that’s just great. I made a three hour drive for absolutely no reason. So… then, I should go. I’m sorry to have barged in on you the way I did.”

He was surprised to see her turn to leave and reached out, gently grabbing her elbow.  “Hey, wait a minute,” he said, “you don’t have to go, I’ll go. If Amanda said you can have the place for the weekend, you can have it.”

“Oh no, it’s your cabin, you stay.”

“But you obviously made plans, so you should stay. Besides, you really don’t want to drive out of here when it’s this dark; it’s not recommended anyway.”

“I’m a city girl, I can handle it. I’ve taken self defense and I know how to change my own tire. Plus, I carry mace.”

Andrew gave her a once over, biting his lip so as not to laugh; perfectly manicured hands, designer sweat suit, expensive leather duffle bags and perfectly coifed hair and shook his head emphatically. “You may be able to take on a mugger in a dark alley, but the roads out here aren’t marked very well, and at night you can get turned around. It’s happened to plenty of people before, including me, and I’ve spent my whole life coming up here. Even I don’t like to make the drive when it’s dark. If you make a wrong turn and run out of gas, you’re screwed. Mace can’t help you when you’re in below freezing temperatures out in the middle of nowhere.”

“What do you suggest, I sleep in my car?”

“Of course not.”

“You sleep in the bed of your truck?”

“There are three bedrooms.” She looked skeptical and shifted her weight from one leg to the other and back again. “Just for tonight. I’ll go in the morning and you can finish your weekend,” he said.

“I’ll go in the morning; I can’t kick you out of your own cabin.”

He sighed, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth. “Why don’t we just agree that we both stay tonight- inside the cabin?” She thought about it, and then reluctantly nodded. “Well then let me show you where your room is.” He bent to grab her duffle bags but she scooped them up quickly.

He smiled and stepped back. “Alright, come on then.”

Andrew led her upstairs, down the short hall and into the master bedroom. He grabbed his own duffle bag off of the floor as she stepped in.

“Wait a minute,” she said, looking at his bag, “you don’t have to move, I can just take another room.”

He shook his head, “this room is the most comfortable, I’ll move down the hall.” Before she could object further, he’d gone.

Camille sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, tired and frustrated. Andrew Lucas was absolutely the last person she expected to see here. She hadn’t seen much of him at all when she graduated and went to college, and though she and Amanda were still thick as thieves, she’d forgotten all about the shy, often pimple faced brother to her best friend of more than twenty years. If not for his eyes and his smile, she’d never have recognized him. The truth was, she didn’t want to see anybody, which was the point to coming to the cabin. She needed to get away…needed to be alone.

A few minutes later his muscular frame filled the doorway. “I’m sure you had a long drive. Hungry?”

She waived her hand, “It’s alright.”

“Forget that. I planned to cook anyway, so I might as well cook for two.”

“No really, it’s okay, I can fix something for myself, I don’t want to put you out.”

“Either you’re really not in the mood for an actual meal or you think I can’t cook.”

She opened her mouth, shocked and then closed it again, unable to refute his idea.

“Aha! So you think I can’t cook? All the time you spent at my house growing up and you never noticed all the time I spent with my mother in the kitchen? Tisk, tisk.”

“Fried baloney sandwiches don’t qualify as a meal,” she said, raising a playful eyebrow.  “Don’t tell me you don’t remember, you used to make them all the time after school, which would completely stink up the house. No, no, none for me.”

“Okay, first of all I got over fried baloney a long time ago, and second of all, you actually remember that?”

“The rancid smell of fried pig’s butt? Yes, I remember.”

“You are absolutely the same smart ass that you were in high school. Well, don’t worry; I wouldn’t dare serve something like that to a guest. I have a bit more tact than that. So now that we’re clear that I know my way around a kitchen, are you going to let me cook for you, or are you going to stick to power bars, granola and vitamin water?”

“Okay, uncle, I get it. Yes, I am starving.”

“Good. I’ll go open the Spam right now, give it time to air out.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“I thought so,” he said with a mischievous smile. “If you need anything I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Umm, just one question; is it safe to sit in the hot tub at night?”

“Oh no,” he said with mocked concern, “the boogie man comes out at night, you don’t want to do that.”

Camille rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips. “That’s not funny.”

He shrugged, “sure it’s safe, though you may find yourself being watched by a raccoon or two, or ten, maybe a deer even.”

“Would it be alright if I took a soak? My back is killing me.”

He smiled again, “you don’t have to ask. Mi casa su casa, alright?”

She nodded, “alright.”


Forty-five minutes later, Camille sat in the hot tub, her head back and eyes closed. Andrew stood for a moment and watched her, then reached out and touched her shoulder. She jumped slightly lifted her head and blinked, and he smiled his signature smile.

“Dinner is ready”. He said, handing her a thick terry cloth robe, “I thought you might need this, it’s getting pretty chilly out here,” then he turned and walked back to the cabin. From within the living room he watched her through the window as she stood, wearing a barely there two piece and swaddled herself in the robe. Seconds later she came around the side of the cabin and stepped onto the deck. In the corner was a beautifully set table for two with candles all around, the moon bright in the sky above.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. He stood and pulled out her chair.

Camille stared for a moment, taking in the sight before her. Finally he turned in her direction, “are you okay? Did I forget something?”

She shook her head and cleared her throat, sitting in the open chair, “I just didn’t expect…this.”

Andrew shrugged as he spooned steamed vegetables onto his plate. “I hope you like salmon.”

“As a matter of fact I do.”

They sat, eating in silence for a while.

“So,” he finally said, setting down his fork and sipping his wine, “if I remember correctly, didn’t you go into architecture?” he asked.

She nodded, picking up her own glass, “what about you?”

“I’m a CPA.”

“And is that as boring as it sounds?”

“Sure. But it’s equally lucrative.”

“Ah yes, the money.” He smiled again. “I think I remember Amanda telling me you helped her pass trig.”

“And calculus, algebra and every other math class she had.”

“Guess she doesn’t have to worry about that at the gallery?”

“Nope. And she has a really good accountant; I made sure of that myself.”

Again they ate in silence.

“Whatever happened to Brad?” he finally asked.

“Who?” she asked, confused.

“Brad Roberts. I thought for sure you guys would have gotten married.”

“The quarterback?!” He nodded and she laughed, tossing her head back. “Oh no, absolutely not.”

“But you guys were high school sweethearts. It sure seemed like you were in love with him.”

“I was. At least I think I was. But, when you have a crush on someone else, you rarely marry your high school sweetheart. And, maybe the mere reality of having a crush on someone else means I couldn’t have been in love with him.”

“Who did you have a crush on?”

She laughed again, this time with a hint of nervousness. “You’ll make fun of me if I tell you.”

“I most certainly will not!”

“You will.”

“I won’t, I promise. Come on, you can tell me.”

She eyed him and then leaned on the table. “Alright. Michael Doyle.”

“Michael Doyle”?!

“You promised you wouldn’t make fun!”

“I’m not, I’m not!” He insisted, a strong smile on his lips and laughter in his eyes. “I’m not making fun. I just never imagined that the captain of the cheerleading squad had a crush on the captain of the drama club and co-captain of the debate team.”

“Why not? Too smart for me?”

“I wouldn’t dare suggest that. He was far from cool, as high school standards go.”

“Well, I thought he was plenty cool. Too cool for me.”

“You were homecoming queen. You were the most popular girl there.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. What about you?”


“Yeah, who was your high school sweetheart?”

He laughed, “Do you remember what I looked like in high school? There were no sweethearts for me.”

“Well… you had to have a crush on someone.”

“Everyone has a crush on someone in high school.”

So. Who was it? Anyone I would remember? Come on, out with it, I told you, now you have to tell me.”

“Alright,” he said, setting his fork down. “You.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh come on, you can’t be that shocked. It makes perfect sense. You were older, even if just by a year, hugely popular, drop dead gorgeous, nice, funny…plus I saw you in your underwear once when you spent the night at my house. That’s the inspiration for any high school boy’s wet dream.”

“Oh my god,” she gasped, “I remember that! I was in the bathroom, changing out of my cheer uniform.”

“I didn’t know that when I opened the door,” he said raising his hands in surrender.

“I think I might have thrown something at you,” she said with an expression of mock horror.

“The soap. Complete with soap dish.  You left my young, virgin mind traumatized.”

“You were a virgin?!” she said in a hushed voice, leaning into the table once more.

“Again, did you see me in high school? That was my junior year, and yeah, I was still a virgin. I bet you weren’t though.”

“Why thank you Mr. Lucas.”

“You know what I mean,” he said.

“I was the high school tramp?”

“No, of course not. You just had a certain…air…appeal. I don’t know the right word. Then again, it could have been my overactive imagination making you something you weren’t. Seeing my sister’s friends in their underwear, their scant pj’s, their tiny two piece bathing suits, well, for a hormonal boy such as myself, it was a lot to deal with.”

She sat back, watching his face. “So how long did you have a crush on me?”

“Nearly as long as I can imagine,” he said.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything? Most boys say something, or try and make a move. Why didn’t you?”

“Did you tell Michael Doyle how you felt about him?”

“Hell no!”

“Well there you have it. I wasn’t about to tell you either. I was content to sit back and watch from afar. It gave me a chance to learn about you.”

“Oh?” she said surprised. “What kinds of things did you learn?”

It was his turn to lean forward. “Well, let’s see,” he said with genuine thought, “I learned that blackberry pie is your favorite, because every time you came to a barbeque you passed on the apple pie and the chocolate cake and went for blackberry pie, two scoops of vanilla on the side, of course. Madonna was at least one of your favorite singers because damn near every time you drove up to the house it was blasting out of your car. And, I learned that purple was your favorite color, because when you and my sister went to tolo’s and proms together, your dress was always a shade of purple.”

“Wow,” she said, “you noticed all of that?”

He shrugged, “I guess I did.”

“I don’t think my own boyfriend noticed details like that.”

“Yeah well, then he was an idiot.”

Camille giggled and sipped her wine again. “So when did you forget about me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, your crush had to end at some point, right?”

“What about you? When did you get over Michael Doyle?”

“I’m not sure I ever did.”

“Well then, there you have it. Maybe I never got over you either.”

She put her glass down. “You can’t be serious.”

“No? Why not?”

“At some point in time someone else had to come along and strike your fancy.”

“Oh sure. I didn’t remain a virgin forever, thank God. But there is something about your first crush. It never completely goes away, don’t you think?”

She nodded, “that sounds about right.”

Again the silence enveloped them as they watched the reflection of the moon on the lake below, each consumed by their own thoughts. For the next four hours, conversation ebbed and flowed with little effort; each at complete ease with the other, the familiarity palpable.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you married?” he asked.

“You sound like my mother.”

“I can’t believe no one has ever asked you to marry them.”

“Well, besides Chuckie Easter in the fourth grade, no, no one has ever asked me.”

“What did you say? To Chuckie Easter?”

“I said yes.”


“Because he was really nice to me. And he used to tell me how smart I was. We could talk for hours and never get sick of each other.”

“Poor Chuckie. He’s seriously missing out on a good woman.  There has only ever been one girl in my life that I ever felt butterflies in my stomach over. I always thought that if I could find a woman that made me feel that, I’d know she’s the one.”

“And where is she now, that girl?”

“Oddly enough, sitting across from me.” Andrew smiled as Camille’s cheeks flushed rosy red.

“You’re putting me on,” she said, suddenly quiet.

He raised his right hand; the tone of his own voice became solemn.  “I would never do such a thing.”

Finally Andrew stood, picking up their plates. “It’s getting late, and I’m going to head out early tomorrow. You’ll probably be asleep when I leave, so…it was good to see you. This was…nice.”

“You too, thank you for dinner, it was wonderful.”

He nodded and walked inside.  She followed after a few minutes, watching him in the kitchen from the entryway.

“I was thinking,” she said as his head snapped up in surprise. “I was thinking that, you know…there’s no reason why we can’t both stay here. I mean, I know, you, you know me. This cabin is more than big enough and we have enough food and supplies. Besides…I would feel horrible kicking you out. Don’t go on my account, that’s all I’m saying.”

He wiped his hands on a towel and crossed his arms. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I don’t want to ruin your weekend.”

“Then stay, please. You won’t be ruining anything.”

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

“Great!” She broke into a smile so familiar it felt like he’d seen it just the day before. She grabbed more dishes from the table and returned to the kitchen. As he took them from her, their fingers brushed together and Camille distinctly felt the foreign sensation of a butterfly, hatching from its cocoon in the pit of her stomach, fluttering its wings for the first time.

“I’m tired,” she said and stepped back, “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Cool,” he said, “I got this. Sleep well.”

“Thanks. Good night.”


For the second time in less than twenty four hours Andrew was awakened from a sound sleep by unfamiliar noises in the night. He lay on his back, his heart beating fast as he cleared the sleep from the corners of his mind. He had been dreaming. He’d been dreaming of Camille, one like the dreams from their high school days. His hand had managed to find his cock, stiff and warm. He blinked in the darkness, thinking of how she looked, how her skin felt, the way her dark, curly hair fell across her face, the way she moaned and gasped his name-

“Andrew!” He bolted upright. “Andrew, are you awake?”

“Uh, yeah, what’s going on?” he whispered back.

“There’s something downstairs. I can hear something down there!”


“I don’t know!”

“Alright,” he said, getting out of bed. He crossed the room in the dark and she came into focus as he neared the doorway. She looked panicked, standing in a silk nightgown.

He stepped past her into the hallway and started slowly down the stairs, Camille nearly glued to his back, her hand on his bare shoulder.

The stairs creaked beneath their naked feet. He stopped at the bottom and listened; he wasn’t sure what it was, but something was outside the kitchen door.

“Do you hear that?” She whispered.


“What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

He moved into the kitchen and she followed. He recognized the sound of the doorknob jiggling and froze.

“Two break-ins in one day.” He said.

“This isn’t funny!” she hissed.

Suddenly the garbage cans toppled over outside the door with a loud ‘crash’, and Camille jumped.

“Alright,” he said and walked to the door, pushing the curtain back from the window. There, on the other side standing in the shadows were half a dozen raccoons.  She peaked over his shoulder. “They’ve been trying to figure out those animal proof garbage cans for the longest time. They’re smart, but we’re smarter.” He turned to her, “we’re safe for now.”

She smiled nervously, shivering in the cold air. “I bet you think I overreacted just a tad bit there.”

“Nope. Strange place, strange noises, makes sense to me. But now I think you should get back upstairs because you look like you’re freezing.”

She nodded and turned, walking up the stairs quickly. Andrew couldn’t help but to follow the curve of her spine downward, the back of her nightgown open from her neck to just below the small of her back.  To her surprise he followed her into her room.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to put a fire in this fireplace so you’re not so cold. The fire downstairs went out hours ago and it’s only going to get colder.”

She sat in the bed, her knees to her chest, the blanket pulled up and watched as he took wood from the corner of the room and stacked it expertly in place. “I’ll make it just the right size to get you through till morning.” He took a box of matches from the mantle and struck one, tossing it onto the small woodpile and watched as the smoke grew to a steady flame. “There, that should do it.” He walked to the door and turned to her, “let me know if you hear anything else.”

She blushed, smiling. “Good night Andrew.”


The next morning Camille awoke to the sound of an axe splitting wood at a steady pace. She got out of bed, pulling on the same terry cloth robe Andrew had given her the night before and looked out her window. He was behind the cabin and she watched as he went through the pile of wood, cutting each piece down to size. She could see the muscles in his arms, his back and his shoulders as he swung the axe with as much ease as a ball player swings a bat. She lay across the bed and closed her eyes, listening to the sound and thinking about…Andrew. His tall, muscular frame, thick, dark curly hair and a smile that simply devastated her senses…Amanda’s little brother.

The axe stopped. The kitchen door opened, closed, and he was on the stairs. Each step he took quickened her heart. She knew he was right at her door, that he could see her lying there, that he was watching her, not knowing that she was thinking of nothing but him. He tapped on the door, “you alright?”


“I have some more wood for you, can I come in?”

“Mmmhmmm.” She finally opened her eyes and rolled over, watching as he stacked the corner of her room full of freshly cut pine.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, dusting off his hands, trying hard not to stare.


“Well there’s breakfast downstairs when you want it.”

“How long have you been up?” she asked.

He shrugged, “a few hours.”

“A few hours? What time is it?”

“Let’s see, it’s nine-thirty.”

“I haven’t slept this late in…forever.”

“I know what you mean. This place can have that affect on you. Well, I’m done here. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He smiled…damn that smile. “You’re welcome.  Do you feel like a walk for lunch, I have a basket packed? If not I won’t be offended, just wanted to offer.  If you’d rather just hang out by yourself that’s cool.”

“I just…I don’t want to interfere with your time. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a good host, a great host, and I’d love to go on a hike…we’ve kind of been thrown together unexpectedly.”

“Then we might as well make the best of it, don’t you think?”

She smiled, feeling her face warm. “Alright, a walk it is,” she said and went back upstairs to shower.


A few hours later they set out along a secluded path to a rocky overhang about three miles from the cabin. The river looked farther away, but at the same time even bigger. They sat on the immense outcropping and ate lunch, then lay on the cool stone, looking at the river, talking about much of nothing at all as the sun crept across the sky; hours had passed as mere seconds would, and the sun was beginning its descent. They had been on the path back to the cabin for about 30 minutes when the first enormous rain drops began to fall.

“We better move, that’s going to turn into a downpour in a few minutes.” He took her hand in his and they dashed as quickly as they could along the path. In the near distance thunder rumbled and the raindrops intensified, piercing their skin and clothes like icicles.  It was more than ten minutes later when they finally burst from the trees and onto the clear land around the cabin. Camille could do nothing but laugh. They were both drenched, their clothes hanging against their bodies. They ran onto the front porch and Andrew fumbled with the key, unable to open the door. She had never seen rain as powerful as this, and it chilled her to the bone.

“I think my fingers are frozen,” he yelled over the rain pounding all around them. Finally the door swung open and they both stumbled inside.

They stood in the front room, panting out of breath, water dripping from their clothes onto the hardwood floor beneath them, both shivering uncontrollably.  Instinctively he pulled her up the stairs and into the bathroom, throwing on the shower.

“Get in!” he yelled, as the thunder roared overhead.

“What about you?” she said, her teeth chattering.

“I can wait,” he insisted lamely.

Camille shook her head defiantly.  “If I get in, you get in with me,” she said, pulling off her clothes.  Andrew followed suit, his eyes mostly transfixed on the body being revealed to him at a frenzied pace.  Before he could blink Camille stood before him in a pair of lavender colored cotton panties and matching bra- both water logged and clinging to her moist flesh.  He could see her nipples, hardened against flimsy cotton fabric and did his best to not look obvious, while also aware that his member was stirring.

He stripped quickly, aware that he’d chosen briefs over boxers that morning, and they stepped into the steaming shower together as Andrew shut the glass door with a definite ‘click’.  Steam filled his lungs and he watched as she let the water cascade over her face and down her front.  She turned towards him, grabbing his arms and pulled him into her, sharing the nearly scalding hot water.

Camille rested her forehead against his chest, and he instinctively put his arms around her as water continued to fall over and between them.  He could feel her breasts push rhythmically against him with each breath she took and he rubbed his hands over her shoulders and back, feeling her chilled skin begin to warm.

Andrew knew his cock was slowly extending beneath his briefs, and guessed that Camille did too, as her body was pressed perfectly against his.

She looked up suddenly, her eyes blinking water away.

Andrew smiled nervously, “are you warming up?”  She nodded.  He had the urge to kiss her and gently touched her face, briefly squeezing her tight.  “Wait here,” he said, “I’ll get you a robe.”

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his arms.

Andrew looked with surprise “what’s the matter?”

She shook her head, “Not yet,” she said, leaning her head against his chest once more.

Before she could respond he pushed the door open and disappeared down the hall.

Minutes later he returned, a towel around his waist.  Andrew cracked open the shower door, holding the robe open for her.  She stepped towards him and then, to his amazement, hooked her thumbs in her panties and pushed them down to her ankles, stepping out of them.  She reached around and unclasped her bra, pulling it from her supple flesh and tossing it aside before stepping out of the shower and into the waiting robe.

“Thank you,” she said, tying it securely.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, amazed he’d even been able to speak.


Ten minutes later Camille stood at the fireplace in the sitting room as the rain continued to pound outside, thunder and lightening commanded the sky as the sun sunk below the horizon.  “That was exciting,” she said rubbing her hands together.

“Yeah, well, we’re lucky we were already on our way back, could have been much worse.”

She nodded absentmindedly, enjoying the feel of the heat emanating from the fire.

Andrew stood at the stove, heating water for tea, and ever so often would glance in her direction, watching her as she warmed herself. Within minutes the water rose to a boil and he carried two mugs into the living room and sat them on the coffee table, sinking into one end of the couch. Camille sat at the opposite end, tucking her legs beneath her, and rubbing her toes.

“They feel like little ice cubes,” she said.

Without a word Andrew bent towards her and took her ankle, pulling her leg from beneath her, his hands pressed over her toes, and his body heat penetrated her. She felt rigid and nervous; the touch of his hand was something that could not be anticipated. She held her mug between her hands, blowing softly at the steamed liquid, watching his hands move across her toes again and again, and then her ankle, and then her calf. His fingers were firm, strong, demanding…and yet soft, gentle and unassuming all at the same time.

He looked up and stopped when he saw her watching him. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away, “I think I just crossed the line.”

She shook her head, “it’s okay…it was okay.”

“Just okay?” he teased.

Her cheeks reddened. “It was great.”

His hands moved again over her foot, each toe, her ankle and her calf, then up to the back of her knee, slipping well beneath her robe.

Camille sipped her tea some and set it back on the coffee table, her eyes glued to him.  Her breath caught in her throat at the feel of his hand on the inside of her thigh. .

“Question,” she said.


“Did you ever…” She laughed nervously and shook her head. “Did you ever…fantasize…about me? In high school?”

“Of course!” he laughed.


“Hell yeah. You were hot in high school, and you know it. You’re still hot…hotter in fact. But I’m sure you already know that too.  I was a healthy teenage boy. All I ever had to do was close my eyes, and you were right there.  I could see you. I could smell you…taste you.”

“Taste me?” she said, blushing slightly.

Andrew smiled wickedly as his hands moved firmly up, down and around her legs and feet.  “Like I said, I was a healthy teenage boy.  I had healthy teenage fantasies; you just happened to be the focus of most of them.”

“Do tell,” she urged.

“Well, sometimes I would fantasize about you sleeping, and I would slip into your room and seduce you.”

Camille tucked an arm comfortably behind her head.  “Seduce me how?”

Andrew shrugged, “whatever way I could, in whatever opportunity that presented itself,” he laughed.  “Other times it would start with a simple kiss.”

“Color me curious,” she whispered devilishly.

He eyed her for a moment, and then slowly lifted her leg and rested her ankle on his shoulder, her toes behind his head.  He kissed the inside of her leg, leaning closer as he moved past her knee and towards her thigh.  He learned in further until her knee was at his shoulder, and then pulled open her robe, his lips never leaving her flesh.

“Did you have a specific scenario?” she asked, jarring him from his fantasy.

His tongue grazed her soft cunt before moving up her belly to her supple, plump breast.  He took each between his lips, sucking until her nipples hardened, and then sat back up.  Her leg slipped back to the couch and he pulled her into his lap, their lips crashing together in desperate passion.

“I had a few, as a matter of fact…”

“What is it?”

Andrew chuckled, shaking his head.  “Nothing.”

“Oh come on, that’s no fair.  I cry foul,” she teased.

“Well, at the risk of sounding like nothing more than the man I am, I find you perfectly lovely and absolutely irresistible.  Fighting the urge to kiss you is almost a losing battle.”


“I’m clinging to chivalry,” he confessed.

Camille tossed her head back and laughed.  “I say damn chivalry.”

Andrew raised his eyebrows “oh?”

“Sure,” she said, as he leaned in closer.  “What is a kiss between friends?”

His lips hovered above hers.  “Temptation, I think,” he smiled.

“Then be tempted,” she whispered, “and then be satisfied.”

With that their lips met in a slow, tantalizing kiss.  When finally they parted Camille was gripping his collar, her heart pounding hysterically.

“Well?” she asked coyly, “is it how you imagined?”

“Mmmm, better,” he said and slipped an arm around her waist.  “In fact you should probably tell me to stop now.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe you think I’m just trying to get lucky tonight, you know, take advantage of the opportunity, however unexpected it may be.”

“Are you?” she asked.  Andrew could sense a hint of insecurity in her eyes and gently touched her face.

“No,” he said simply.  “But I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t deeply attracted to you at this very moment.”

His fingers moved from her face and slipped down her neck and chest and untied her robe before slowly pushing it open, revealing her soft caramel colored skin.  With his arm still around her waist he pulled her up and she straddled his lap as their lips met once more.

The open robe fell from her shoulders and she pulled her arms free, wrapping them around him as his lips moved from her mouth to her neck, to her breasts, and he slid his hand slowly down between he legs.

Camille gasped loudly as her eyes squeezed closed and her head fell back at the feel of his fingers on her cunt and his wet tongue on her skin.  Andrew worked over her body slowly, listening to each gasp, each moan, feeling her pelvis push into him, excited each time her back arched and she held her breath before gasping for air.  Her hand shot between her legs, covering his fingers, pressing them into her swollen pearl as her legs tightened against his.

“I want to make you cum,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers pressed harder, moving in a small, slow circle.  He gently pulled his fingers back, until her own hand slid in their place and he delighted in the feel of her enticing herself.

Their tongues played together in an endless kiss, and in one motion he rose from the couch and turned, setting her in his place.  He pulled her to the edge of the cushion and she leaned against the couch and rested her legs over his shoulders.  Smothering the inside of each thigh with his lips, he pushed deeper, her musky scent drawing him closer.  Gripping her ass with both hands provided just the leverage he needed and he sunk his lips into her glistening pussy.

“Andrew,” she whispered hotly, “oh God yes, oh…oh that…feels…so…good, yes, yes!”  He caressed her tight clit with his tongue for an impossible amount of time, before slowly sucking it between his lips.  Her back arched sharply as her hips shook out of control.  “Oh!” she gasped, “that’s it, that’s it, right there, oh yes!”  Within seconds she climaxed, her body twisting this way and that, unable to contain the sheer pleasure.

Exhilaration surged through his body and Andrew kissed Camille stormily as her legs slid around his waist.  He stood, pulling her with him, and moved to the stairs.  They made it to the landing before he sunk to his knees with a fierce passion burning in his chest.

Again his hand moved between her legs and he slowly pushed two fingers deep into her cunt as her arms tightened around his neck.  He lowered his lips to her body, down her belly, causing her to moan again, and he dragged his fingers over the short, dark curly hair that covered her sex. She gasped again, and he tried hard to focus on taking his time, savoring this experience, worshiping her. He pushed her thighs farther apart as her body shook slightly- he looked and found her biting her bottom lip, watching his every move. He lowered his head, parted her swollen flesh with his fingers, and pressed his tongue into her. She cried out instantly, her back arched and she gripped the edge of the step. Slowly he rolled his tongue over her clit, and listened to the sounds of her gasps, felt her jerk beneath his touch.

“Andrew?  What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing”. He lifted her legs off of his lap and stood up, holding his hand out to her. “I want to show you something, if that’s alright.”

She smiled and took his hand, “Of course.”

He walked her up the stairs and into her room. The sun had set and it was dark. She stood inside the doorway, and he was right behind her, his chest just barely touching her back.

Andrew opened the closet door and she heard a distinct “click”. Suddenly the ceiling was moving- the fabric drawing to one side, revealing a new ceiling, one made almost entirely of glass. The sky was clear, and the stars seemed close enough to touch.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, “it is stunning.”

He put his arms around her. “When I would think about you, this is where we were…in this room, at night, with the stars over us.” Camille felt the shudder pass through her when their lips met, the passion instant. “I would close my eyes and imagine us here…you in my arms…it was the first fantasy that I ever really thought out…thinking about it now has the same effect as it did when we were in high school.”

“What effect is that?”

“My cock is so hard right now I don’t know what to do with myself,” they leaned into each other, laughing.

“Well, what did you do in high school?” she asked, turning to face him.

“I jacked off like a horny fool. I tried not to, like I actually wouldn’t, right? But I would try. I would lay in bed, or be in the bathroom, or in the shower, and I would think about you standing here, think about each piece of clothing as it left your body…think about what your skin felt like, what your breasts felt like to touch…kiss…suck…the sounds you would make when I would touch you.”


He sighed, his hands moving up the sides of her body, over her arms, her neck and face, back down again, along her collar bone and over her piqued breasts. “My mouth touched every inch of this body. My hands, my fingers, I would put my fingers inside of you and make you cum…make love to you anyway I could.”

They stared at each other for a few moments.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

He pushed her long curly hair off of her shoulders and kissed her, pulling her into him.  They soon abandoned restraint for passion and Andrew pulled open her robe, slipping his arms around her naked body as his lips moved down her face, planting a slow trail of kisses around her neck, moving behind her and fondling her breasts gently as Camille leaned her head back against his shoulder.  He slid a hand down her smooth belly and between her legs, gently massaging, listening to her try and contain herself.

He covered her flesh with his lips as she moaned, her body shivering, then pulled off the towel around his waist and pushed her robe to the floor. They collapsed to the bed and he truly, patiently, ravished her.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered in her ear.

As she pushed against his body, he thrust his cock high inside of her. He went slowly at first, but then faster, pulling it back and thrusting it harder each time. It was almost impossible to prevent himself from exploding inside of her, and she kept gasping his name; he could feel her pussy tighten around his cock with each surge.

She climaxed quickly, and laced her fingers through his, gripping his hands as tightly as she could, her pussy in spasms. He paused, allowing her to relax for a moment, and she kissed him slowly. They rolled to one side, with his cock still rock hard and buried deep, her leg draped high over his, his rhythm was slow but firm. After a few minutes, she pushed towards him and he fell to his back, and watched as she lowered her hips onto him, her hot cunt enveloping the long, hard shaft. She threw her head back and took in a sharp breath, adjusting to the sensations.

He ran his hands over her body, teasing her nipples with his fingers, and finally, she bent towards him and they kissed. When she pulled away and braced her hands on his chest, she had his full attention.

Camille bit her bottom lip shyly as he watched her move on his cock, her rhythm enchanting. His hand slipped down her front and massaged her clit, exciting them both and quickening her pace as she moved against him. He reached behind her, holding her ass and closed his eyes, listening to her gasps and whispers as they mingled with his own.

Her hips began to jerk up and down, her head tilted back. He watched her, the waves of pleasure visible on her face. She was getting off on him, and he loved it, loved the sight, the feel. His moans were louder now, the sensations she caused, stronger. She grabbed the sheets, riding hard. Part of him wanted to savor this longer, but the rest of him could not wait. She bounced on him, his cock driving deep into her each time, and then he sat up, threw his arms around her waist, and came hard as he clung to her. She climaxed with him, and now sunk against his broad chest, breathing deeply. She finally pulled herself from him, turned away, leaning over the side of the bed, leaving his cock at attention. He immediately cupped his hand around it and stroked it, coated by the wetness.

Though he could not see, he knew. He moved towards her round, butternut ass and let his cock press against it, looking for an eager opening. She was almost oblivious to him now, her legs were open and both hands were teasing her clit. He pushed his chest to her back, and she turned her head towards him as they shared a passionate kiss. He rubbed his cock against her hot pussy and thought he felt her push towards it. She turned, and again they kissed, and when their lips parted she said, “fuck me. Fuck me baby.” He kissed her, barely able to pull his lips away, but as he did, she turned again, her stomach against the bed, and he mounted her from behind, thrusting his dick into her soaked pussy. He stayed there, with one hand on the bed, and one hand gripping her hair, and no matter how loudly she yelled, he fucked her as hard and as long as he could. As she pushed her fingers around her clit, she found herself begging for him to fuck her harder, and somehow he did. When she peaked, he got off just at the sound of her cries. He kissed her again, with even more passion, and her pussy tightened; the feeling was like nothing else.

“Do you like that?” he whispered, his mouth still on hers. She moaned in response as her body began to rock softly. “Oh you do like it,” he whispered, and thrust his tight, hard cock deeper, as her body rocked faster, “you like it when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“You want me to do it again?”

“Yes…yes…yes…oh, mmmm, uh, uh,” listening to her nearly made him insane, his shaft moved faster, harder, and again, they both peaked within minutes.

“I bet that pussy tastes good right now, doesn’t it?” He slid to fingers over her clit and brought them to her lips. She sucked them both and he slipped his tongue in, wanting to taste her tasting herself.

He moved his tongue rapidly against her clit, then pressed himself closer still and sucked it in between his lips. He felt her hips begin to buck out of control, felt her fingers dig into his shoulders, and felt a surge of wetness on his tongue accompanied by a slow, long moan that parted her lips. He waited a moment, and then drove two fingers deep into her wetness and pressed his lips against her clit once more. Within minutes she orgasmed again, her body shaking out of control, and when it subsided, he took her in his arms and held her close and kissed her longingly, “you’re amazing.”

“Mmmm,” she said, kissing his chest.

“I could make love to you all night,” he said closing his eyes briefly.

“Do you wonder why this is happening?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you wonder why we both ended up here, thrown together after all this time?”


“And?” she said, looking up at him.

He touched her face and kissed her softly, “I wonder if you feel what I feel…”

“What is that?”

He smiled and kissed her again. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“What do you believe in then?”

“Fate. Yes, even men can believe in fate, I know it must come as a shock. Do you believe in fate?”

“Yes,” she said nervously, “very much.”

“And what about love at first sight? Has that ever happened to you?”

“I think it may have, yes,” she said swallowing hard, “what about you?”

“Absolutely, yes.”

“How do you know?”

He looked her in the eye. “Because when this weekend comes to an end, I’m not willing to go back to living my life without you in it. Now that I know you…I can’t go back to not knowing you, it’s not an option.”


“I hope you don’t think that was too forward of me.”

She kissed him in response, her arms around his neck, pulling him into her. She wrapped her legs around his, her thighs open to him, and their bodies again became one.

“Jesus Christ you feel good,” he gasped as her back arched. Her body went limp as the orgasm swept over her. They lay in silence, staring at the stars.

‘Camille?” he finally said, his fingers lazily stroking her hair.


“Would you marry me?”

Her heart stopped and she jerked around to look at him, speechless.

“Before you say anything, just think about it. I am a good man, I have a good job. I don’t snore, I’m not in debt, I don’t have any unfavorable habits, I can cook and do laundry, I’m a hit at dinner parties, and I love weekend getaways. Our families know each other. I’m crazy about you, and I always have been. I would take good care of you Camille. I would spend the rest of my life loving you…being the man that you need…the man you deserve. Every second that I spend with you, I fall more and more in love. All I can think about is, how can I make you happy. How can I give you what you deserve? Besides, you give me butterflies in the pit of my stomach…just like before. I can’t explain it, I just know how I feel.”

She stared for an eternity before laying back down, her head against his chest. They stayed silent for hours, neither able to sleep. In the early morning, he felt her hand wrap around his, and she looked up to him, kissing his jaw. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’ll marry you.”


2 Responses to “The Cabin”

  1. Kaye Michele September 29, 2010 at 10:59 am #

    Nice!!! =oD

  2. shay October 21, 2010 at 1:20 pm #

    omg i felt like I was in the story with them. This was beautiful

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: