One Weekend Stand Ch. 02

"Back to the subject," she ordered, her legs nonetheless tingling from his ardent attention.

He signed dramatically. "OK, what say we do this? We'll crack open locker one tonight, since it looks like our campfire is going to be rained out. But we'll leave the others for tomorrow."

She looked at him, gauging his body language. "You know what's in all of them, don't you?" she asked. From the way he smiled, then, she knew she'd gotten it right. Even though his answer was much less direct, "Not exactly what's in them, but what everything can be used for." It was an answer designed to infuriate her, and it had its desired effect. He knew how curious she was, and how much she would want to know a secret. And now that she'd left herself open by asking the question, he could torment her with his secret knowledge. There was only one good way to handle it. She feigned disinterest, "If you say so. Tomorrow's soon enough."

"I'm famished. Are you ready to eat?"

Famished? Who says 'famished?' She felt suddenly wrong-footed, then smiled inwardly at his ability to redirect the conversation. He wasn't giving her enough time to get upset with him.

They both reluctantly left the bed, pausing for another long, languid kiss, before setting about to get the meal ready. On the way up, they'd stopped at a grocery store and purchased all kinds of pasta salads, shrimp, cheese, crackers, Italian bread and other stuff. She'd brought food to cook for him, but he'd convinced her to wait until Saturday evening, reasoning that they'd be too tired to really enjoy it on Friday. And so they were.

As she plated the meal, he lit nearly a dozen of the candles they'd found in the cupboards, placing them around the room for a shimmering, romantic effect. They uncorked the wine and sat on the bed, sharing the small nightstand as a table for their meal. She tried to keep the conversation innocuous, though she was always acutely conscious of his nearness on the bed. Soon they were laughing uproariously, threatening to overturn their make ship table, the wine loosening their tongues and their inhibitions.

She'd brought plenty of wine, expecting to need it to move the weekend along. But she'd clearly been mistaken. It wasn't the wine that had emboldened him at all their lunches. He'd just been holding himself back. And using the wine to free some of his desire from behind that wall. Which was funny. Because she'd been using the wine a different way, as a reminder not to lead him on too far. And now, here they were, both able to just drink the wine and enjoy themselves, without walls or recriminations or guilt.

As they shared their meal, and the wine, and the talk, he was of two minds. One part urged him to violently sweep all the food aside and roll her back onto the bed, to rip off all her clothes and force himself into her, like a husband returned home from a drunken binge. In his mind's eye he saw her reaction: the initial shock, then the ultimate enjoyment. Every woman wanted her man to play the bad boy at some time. At least in his experience.

But the other part urged him to continue to be patient, to build up the tension until the string between them hummed with every gesture and flirtatious remark. To tantalize her and deny her, so that when they ultimately made love again, it would be all the more exquisite. He let that image linger in his mind, his cock once again poised between her legs, quivering as each beat of his heart pulsed blood to feed that hardened beast, ready once more to pierce her veil. Yes, that would be the way to go, selfish though it might be, as he would get as much pleasure out of it as she.

Still, he could feel that they were getting dangerously close to setting off the bomb they'd both primed. Time, then, for a bit of misdirection.

"You know, it looks like it's going to rain. If we're going to check out that locker, we oughta get out there right now, before the downpour starts."

As if to punctuate his words, a low rumbling sound rolled through the air. Thunder. She looked at him as if he had somehow conjured it up, but all he could do was smile and shrug. Sometimes life was just serendipitous.

They drained the wine in their glasses and left the plates and dishes to be cleaned up later. He could feel the very tips of his fingers begin to tingle, and wondered if it was from the effects of the wine or the coming electrical storm. Or maybe a little of both. He was initially surprised when she retrieved the key from its hiding place in the trunk, then smiled when he realized the answer. Of course she would've explored the whole cabin. That was her way. And leaving the email out in the open would've been like baiting a bear with fresh fish...irresistible.

By the time she straightened up, he could hear little pats on the roof, the storm just beginning to roll in. He knew they had very little time if they didn't want to get caught in the downpour. Not that he minded a getting wet. He could walk for hours in a warm summer rain. But being caught outside, up here, with lightning flashing around, was a little too intense for his taste.

He looked around for something to gallantly cover her with, but she was already halfway out the door, clad only in her panties, his shirt and a pair of sandals. He still wasn't hardened to the sight of her nearly nude body. Well, partially hardened, but in another sense. All he could do was follow along.

By the time they entered the shed, the rain was falling a little more insistently. A glimpse of the roiling dark clouds through the tree tops had shown him the future for the night. This would be no wham bam storm that would roll in and roll out. Instead, they were in for several hours of rain, thunder and lightning. And they'd be grateful for a solid roof over their heads. Though any trip to the bathroom would be a wet, sloppy one. Which sparked another thought. He suggested that she head to the bathroom before the weather got really nasty. But the look she gave him told him all he needed to know. She wanted to know what was in that locker and she wasn't going to be distracted from it. He shrugged inwardly. He needed to go, and there was no need to be chivalrous about who goes first.

By the time he returned to the other side of the shed, the rain was falling steadily, though in small drops that were mostly impeded by the huge tree branches. That would change soon, from the deep blackness of the clouds that were heading towards them. They'd have to hurry a bit.

She'd opened the locker already, and was methodically removing DVD cases from the rack, glancing at the covers, then sliding them back into place. She was halfway through the 200 or so in the cabinet, checking every ten labels. She turned to him as he entered, a case in her hand with two nude women adorning the cover.

"They're all porn?"

It was more of a statement than a question. He just nodded as she replaced that case only to remove another.

"All porn," she stated flatly. "Just what kind of person is your friend?"

"One with an adventurous soul," he answered, a little defensively, as if she was judging him by the company he kept. "And he's more of an associate than a friend."

"And what does his wife think about all this?"

It amused him that she would automatically assume that his "associate" was married. He was tempted to dispute the fact, just to see what her reaction would be. But that would take the discussion in a wholly new, wholly combative direction. Better to go with the facts.

"I'd say she probably doesn't have any problem with it, and is probably a willing accomplice. One with an adventurous soul," he added, verbally baiting her.

She rose to it. "And you have an adventurous soul?" she asked, waggling a particularly filthy cover at him, featuring the perfectly descriptive porn title of 'Gangbang Mother Fuckers.' He had the fleeting thought of perhaps redirecting his writing career to cover the porn industry. He thought he could come up with a better title than that. Maybe 'MILF and Crackers with Double Cream.'

He tried to gauge whether she was amused, disgusted or puzzled, and then gave up. It was her inquisitiveness that had brought her to open the cabinet, and he was no more to blame for what was in there than he was to blame for the storm rolling in. so he simply shrugged and looked pointedly at her standing there, dressed in little more than her panties. She looked down at herself and smiled, seeming to get the point. They both had adventurous souls. Or else neither would be there.

A crack of thunder shook the shed, sounding as though the storm was just one hill away. He moved closer and took the case from her hand. "Why don't you pick out one or two that you might like to see, then head over to the bathroom while I pick mine out. Then we'll get back to the cabin before this storm really hits." She started to reply, but he interrupted. "The only rule is, you need to pick something that you really want to see, not something that you think I'd like to see. So don't pick lez just because you think I'd like it. Pick a secret fantasy, or something you're curious about, or whatever. This might be your first and only chance to pick what you want without being judged in any way by a husband or boyfriend or someone who might judge you. I won't judge you. You won't judge me. Because I think a person's turn-ons are what they are, and don't say a single thing about their character."

He knew by looking in her eyes that he'd gotten a little too lecture-y. But one of his pet peeves was how some people judged others by their choices of entertainment. And he thought, no, believed that many marriages were ruined by the barriers people erected so that their partners wouldn't judge them on their sexual preferences. There was too much embarrassment and not enough communication.

He tried to soften it a bit. "Besides, what else are we going to do, locked in a cabin with a storm raging all around us."

She smiled a little then, and he turned away so she could make her selections in private, another clap of thunder urging her on.

She rushed to the toilet, the rain falling much more insistently, the DVDs protectively clutched against her chest. She hadn't been totally surprised to find a cabinet full of porn. What had surprised her was the depth of the collection. Not just straight sex, and lesbian, but also gangbangs and bondage and peeing and spankings and every little niche she could think of, and some that she never dreamed she'd see in real life. Opening the cabinet had been, in retrospect, just a bit shocking.

It wasn't that she didn't like porn. She could see the need for it and the attraction of it. She just had limited tastes as to what would turn her on. She liked the films where the characters had an emotional investment before they fucked. The ones where the actors appeared to at least like each other. The raw, graphic stuff just didn't do much for her.

Not that she hadn't seen quite a bit of it. Her husband liked the big tit stuff, and lesbians, though she suspected that he just liked seeing two women nude at once. The rest she could take or leave, though she preferred to leave it. She found anal sex to be gross to watch, and didn't like how it gave her husband ideas that she was unlikely to agree to. But the collection in there went so far beyond the norm that she wasn't sure what to make of it.

She eyed the three DVDs she'd selected, wondering whether she should just leave them in the bathroom and return empty-handed. Two had come from the section of the collection dedicated to movies with actual plots. "Titanic Uncovered," promised to reveal the sexual yearnings of all the classes aboard that great ship, although the pictures on the back revealed that several of the women liked to be fucked from the front and the rear at the same time. "Insatiable Victoria" would be a tale from Victorian England, where people were forced to explore their fantasies behind closed doors. Though she'd been attracted by the gorgeous dress on the front cover, the women on the back cover were apparently experts at oral sex, and incongruously sported neatly trimmed pussy patches. Well ahead of their time.

With his admonishment ringing in her ears, she'd replaced the lez title that she had in fact selected for him, and taken a kinky-looking disc called "Tease and Deny." The front showed a woman in the throes of orgasm. The back? Well, it was safe to say that she couldn't name most of the objects and items the couples and groups were using on each other. Still, it was something new that she hadn't shared with anyone.

She washed up, wondering what he was going to select. She hoped he would follow his own advice and pick titles that were interesting to him, and not something meant to educate her. That was one thing that really got under her skin. Every lover she'd ever had seemed obsessed with introducing her to the many joys of sex. Sure, she was pretty innocent and naïve when it came to actually practicing different sex acts. But that didn't mean that she didn't know about them. And it didn't mean that she wanted to learn about them. She like what she liked. And that was all there was to it. Armed with a full head of indignation, she raced back around to the shed door. Her indignation didn't protect her from the rain at all.

She banged through the door, tripping slightly and falling into his arms, her DVDs scattering across the floor. She could only imagine what her hair looked like, even though she'd only gone a few yards through the wet woods.

"I've missed you," he said simply. Then he kissed her, his DVDs clattering to the floor even as his arms enveloped her and his hands pressed her close to him. They made out like teenagers, their lips rarely unlocking, not even to breathe. His hands roamed her body freely, caressing every inch of her without hesitation, reaching inside her shirt, dislodging it off her shoulders. She in turn raked his back softly with her fingertips, wishing she hadn't bitten them down, so she could raise on him the same kind of goose bumps he'd given to her. They swayed back and forth gently, an island of bliss enshrouded by the staccato of rain pounding on the roof above. She could feel his hardness burning tight against her mound, even separated layers of his briefs and her panties. She began to sink to her knees, meaning to pull him out and suck him off, just so she could watch the joy in his eyes. But then she had another thought.

"We'll have to make a run for it," he said, barely able to speak. The feel of her body and lips against him had been so intense, he thought he might cum from that alone. As it was, his cock was harder than he'd ever remembered. So hard that it was verging on bursting right out of his briefs.

He bent to pick up the scattered cases, then gave her the key he'd found in the open cabinet. Flicking off the lights, they prepared to make a dash for the cabin. He hoped the cabin door would open easily, because the rain had become a deluge. As he turned to open the door, he felt her lips find his in the dark. Her hand slipped inside his briefs, her fingers sliding down the length of his shaft, then caressing his balls. He groaned, the sound rumbling through him as deep and urgent as the thunder outside. Then she laughed wickedly and was gone out the door.

When he finally caught up to her she was just inside the cabin door. At that moment, she looked sexier than he'd ever seen her, even when she'd been naked and splayed out on the bed, waiting for him to bury himself inside her. The frantic run through the deluge had left her soaked, and now her shirt was plastered to her body like a second skin, revealing every curve and nuance of her. Her breasts thrust out prominently and her nipples stood out in stark relief, fully engorged in response to the cold rain. The fabric hugged her waist like an insistent lover, and below that even her panties were soaked, the thin fabric now nearly transparent and revealing her tiny pubic patch and the line of her slit. Her legs were streaked with water and she stood with one foot shyly covering the other, like a teenage girl posing nude for the first time.

Her hair, too, was soaked and dripping, the water drops glistening in the light of the few candles that remained lit. These were outshone by her eyes, which virtually sparkled as she basked in the intensity of his gaze. She shivered, and he let the DVD cases fall once again to the floor. Moving forward, he slowly unbuttoned the front of the shirt, watching her face the whole time. In the same motion he pushed it off her shoulders and down her arms, leaning forward to capture her right nipple in his mouth. Slowly he encircled it, licking the rainwater off it, sucking it deep against his tongue, feeling it stiffen even more as the heat of his breath replaced the cold of the rain.

After tenderly administering to her other breast, he slowly kissed his way over her chest, across her stomach, ever downwards. Wherever he chanced to meet a rain droplet he used the tip of his tongue to gently lick it from her skin, then kissed that spot, heating it more deeply than any towel could accomplish. Her hands were tangled in his hair and it felt as though she was urging him on. Her soaked panties quickly joined the wet shirt on the floor.

Soon he was kneeling, his face just inches from her succulent pussy. He could deny himself no more. He had to taste her. Had to make her squirm on the tip of his tongue. He pushed his face against her, reveling in the plush softness of her. His tongue found her clit first, probing under its hood to insistently caress the erect nub, causing her to whisper yes, yes and thrust herself hard against him. He paused there a moment, licking her lightly, torturing her, at times touching it with only the tip of his tongue and at times rasping the whole length of his tongue against it, causing her tiny pink wonder to shudder and flutter.

Then he pushed himself harder against her, his tongue sliding aggressively down her slit, seeking and then finding the tight confines of her cunt hole. Hungrily, eagerly he shoved himself in, remembering fleetingly that at sometime, somewhere she'd told him that she didn't like this, but discarding the notion, because who could not like being so intimately pleasured? He pressed his tongue in and out of her, fucking her with it, and her hands tightened painfully in his hair. She was hot inside, a liquid volcano, and she tasted tart and sweet and salty and clean. He pushed his face even more insistently between her legs, grinding his teeth against her slit, pressing his lips against her clit, and penetrated her cunt as far as his tongue would travel, while her hole opened and closed spasmodically in response to every fresh incursion. She shuddered then, violently, her whispers of yes, yes rising in urgency and volume. He returned his mouth back to her molten core, finding her gloriously, luxuriously wet with something much tastier than mere rainwater.

Her hands pulled him up and he obeyed, and they clung together, each weak-kneed and trembling. He kissed her neck, her eyebrows, her ears; anywhere he could reach without throwing them off balance. He sucked the water from her hair and nibbled on her ear lobes, kissed the arch of her neck and nuzzled the smooth skin of her cheeks. He breathed hot obscenities in her ears and tasted the sweetness of her mouth.

Then, with a smile that was as wicked as any he'd seen from her, she slid down his body, kissing him in all the same places he'd kissed her, worry at his nipples and traversing down, down across his chest, along his belly, down to where his hard cock lay nestled in his thick pubic patch. His soaked shorts quickly joined the rest of the clothes on the floor. Then slowly, tantalizingly, teasingly, she licked the length of his cock, from the base to the tip, watching him watching her as it quickly recovered from the cold rain, expanding and lengthening, filling and hardening. Then, with a suddenness that shocked him, she sucked the whole length of him into her mouth, the heat of her literally staggering him, so he need to grab her hair and steady himself.