The Cabin Ch. 01

She stood in front of the fire, feeling the warmth of the flames against her legs and listening to the whistle of the wind around the window frames. It had been a wonderful day, walking through the hills, and swimming naked and chilly in the river that wound through the trees below the cabin.

Now the air was cool, and the sun had drifted below the hills on the horizon. She had made a simple meal and ate it to the sound of the currawongs serenading the evening star. She built up the fire and lay down on the soft fur of the bearskin rug, which was stretched across the old wooden floorboards of the cabin grandfather built.

She laid for a while, lost in contemplation, enjoying the solace of the evening - the escape from the hustle and bustle of a busy job, a hectic social life, and all the responsibilities that went with being determined, ambitious and successful in the world of business. Her grandfather had died only months before, and this was the first chance she had to visit the cabin he had bequeathed her in his will. She remembered coming up here every summer as a little girl, and sometimes in the winter to ski the gentle slopes below the craggy mountain range that seemed to touch the sky.

Lost in her reverie, she barely noticed the insistent tapping at the front door. It finally penetrated her consciousness and she rose from the floor. It was unusual to see people unannounced in this area of the country, unless they were lost or broken down. But country hospitality demanded that help should be given if needed, so after checking that grandfatherÕs old shotgun was ready and loaded, she cracked the door open to see who was there.

In the dim light on the veranda stood a young man. He looked tired and his clothes were dusty and somewhat bedraggled. But his eyes were intense and he had a pleasant face, which lit up when he saw her.

"Sorry to bother you miss. I've been hiking through the park for a couple of days, and seemed to have lost my bearings'

'What can I do for you?' she asked.

'I was hoping I could use your phone, and perhaps scrounge a hot cup of tea'

She was unsure, alone in the cabin and a million miles away from help if she needed it. But something in the way he stood, and looked at her with those bright eyes made her want to trust him, so she undid the chain and opened the door wider to let him in.

Once inside, he shed his heavy jacket and she was impressed with the lean body that was revealed. While she bustled in the tiny kitchen with mugs and tea bags, he lowered himself into a chair by the fire with an audible sigh.

'I'm sorry', she said, 'I can only offer you the tea. The storm last night brought down the telephone line and they tell me it won't be fixed until the morning'

'That's okay,' said the man 'the tea will do fine, then I'll be on my way'

'You really have lost your bearings then' she said, 'the nearest town is 50 km up the road - you'll never get there tonight, and the forecast is for possible snow'

'Ill be okay he said, I've managed worse'

Something about him warmed her heart. Before she really had time to think about it, she found herself asking him to stay the night. He smiled and gracefully accepted.

'However' she said,' I only have one bed, so you'll have to sleep out here on the chair - or the rug'

'That will be fine - much better than the ground outside' he chuckled.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. They talked easily had much in common. He was charming and funny Ð she felt attractive and witty, and before she knew it was telling him stories about her childhood and her grandfather. After two glasses of wine his head began to nod, and his eyelids fluttered.

'You look tired' she said, 'Time to sleep'

'Yes' he said, 'I could use it'

She retired to the small bedroom at the back of the cabin and retrieved a jug of hot water, a sponge and a towel, which she brought back to the main room.

'I don't have many mod cons' she said, 'my grandad lived very simply, but this should do the job'

She returned to her room and closed the curtain that served as a door. When she turned down the light, the light material became almost transparent and the orange glow from the fire lit up the main room. She undressed and changed into a nightdress. Turning, she was suddenly transfixed by the image of the young man fully naked in the main room, washing his body with the sponge and water she had given him. Quickly, she looked away from the curtain, and climbed into bed turning her face towards the window.

But the image remained in her mind, and she felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach, which gradually spread to the juncture of her thighs and the points of her breasts. Impulsively, she turned her head and looked once again through the curtain.

The man had finished shoulders and arms and was sponging his flat belly and firm thighs. His manhood jutted proudly from a thick forest of hair, and as he turned away from her and bent to pick up his clothes from the floor she caught her breath as the dark crack between his buttocks was revealed.

The tingle became the pulse, her nipples pushed against the lace of her bodice and deep inside her body something moved and sucked - clenching and releasing a spurt of moisture between her thighs. One hand caressed a breast; the other found its way into her panties and slid through the fur on her mound until it encountered the tender tip of her clitoris. Her thighs spread further apart and the questing finger eased between her warm lips. Gently she played with herself while she watched him through the curtain. He reached into his pack and pulled out a thin blanket. Unfolding it, he retrieved a pair of boxer shorts, stepped into them and adjusted his cock to a comfortable position. Then he lay down on the rug and pulled up the blanket.

The fire was still burning brightly, and from her vantage point she could see him clearly outlined against the flames. He lay on his back, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Her eyes travelled along his body as her fingers caressed her own, and the warmth seeped to every part of her being. Outside, the wind was picking up, shaking the eucalyptus and rattling the fence.

Inside, she was warm and rapidly becoming wetter - her fingers moving more urgently, pushing deeper inside her vagina and rubbing over the soft folds of her vulva. She closed her eyes and imagined the stranger rising from the floor, pushing aside the flimsy curtain and coming into her bed. She opened her eyes and looked towards him again. She expected that he would be asleep, but was surprised to see him obviously awake. Not just awake, but vigorously stroking his penis and moaning softly in the night. The blanket covered his hand but was pulled free from his chest and shoulders and the firelight flickered on his skin. He was pumping his manhood under the blanket and his hips were rising from the floor.

She was at once frightened and excited. How could he do such a thing? And she suddenly realised her own hands were busy on and inside her body, and laughed quietly to herself.

'Maybe he's thinking of me?' - she rejected the idea immediately - but maybe?.

Now he became more vigorous yet, and threw back the rest of the blanket. His cock rose hard and strong from his belly, the tip shining with his excitement and the muscles in his neck straining. As he pushed towards climax, she felt her own arousal increasing - panting - her breath coming in short gasps and the hot tension building in her stomach.

On the floor, the man gritted his teeth and barely suppressed his moans and his shaft seemed to grow longer. Suddenly, he tensed and his whole body went as rigid as a board. One last stroke, and he released himself in a jet of creamy fluid, which arced up into the air and back on to his chest. At the same moment she felt an eruption of her own, her thighs clamping around her wrist and trapping her fingers deep inside her vagina, her thumb pressed hard against her clitoris - while the other hand tweaked her nipple to the point of pain.

'Oh my God!' - she hadn't come that hard in years. She withdrew her fingers and licked them briefly, tasting the sweet and salty tang of her juices.

In the other room, the man rolled over and settled into sleep.