One Weekend Stand Ch. 03

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bbonz1
bbonz1
553 Followers

After a time, a long time, it began to feel more like a contest than a kiss. But it was a contest she would not allow herself to lose. If he wanted to kiss all day, she could keep up. But even as she thought it, he broke off the kiss, fortunately without any of those kissy noises that couples often make when they're almost but not quite done kissing. She'd never been a fan of those. In her mind, they were the mark of a rank amateur kisser.

She opened her eyes and felt herself backed against the kitchen counter. With barely any effort, he lifted and plopped her on the counter, then leaned in for a slow, wet and thoroughly expressive kiss.

"So, whaddaya wanna do now?" he asked in a playful tone.

I wanna keep kissing, her mind answered. No, I want you to fuck me here on this counter. No, I wanna suck your cock deep into my mouth. No, I wanna just dance around the room in your arms. No, I wanna ride you and bring you to the edge. No, I wanna cuddle up on the comforter and feel your fingertips stroke every inch of my body. No, I wanna find that key and open that box. No, I wanna play hide and seek, naked, in the woods. No, I wanna stay here with you for the night, the week, the month. No, I wanna show you everything I know about sex. No, I want you to show me what you know about sex. No, I wanna...

"How about we go exploring?" he asked, kissing her again so she had to wait to answer.

"That's what I was going to suggest," she said lightly, kissing him back, playfully teasing him with her tongue while letting her fingers tease a place somewhat lower and more intimate.

At his suggestion she put some additional clothes on to keep from getting burned or in case they ran into some unexpected neighbors. Smiling devilishly, she pulled on a sheer white top that she'd planned to wear later in the weekend, then a pair of shorts, before finally donning her sandals. She could tell by the mesmerized look in his eyes that she'd accomplished her objective: covering just enough to be drop dead sexy. In response, he went camo, exchanging his boxers for a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a t-shirt. She went over to him and checked. Yes, she could still push her hand down into his shorts and fondle his manhood. She was acting far outside the boundaries of her normal behavior and she knew it. It felt... liberating.

"Where to?" he asked, once they got outside the cabin. She looked around but could spot no landmarks. The tall pines stretched into the distance in every direction. She turned and pointed at random and they struck out, staying near as the ground rose and fell under their feet.

He watched her butt wiggle as she walked and smiled, the memory of her bent over bare-assed on the bed arriving unbidden in his mind. He'd always liked her butt and had complimented her on it often. But, in the way of women, she was unhappy with some aspect of it. He was never sure if her responses were truthful, modesty or false modesty, though he hoped it wasn't the latter because he really didn't like that sort of thing. In any case, her waggle was inviting, made all the more so by the strain of walking up and down the hills.

They hadn't gone far when she suddenly stopped on the crest of one hill and looked back towards the cabin. As he'd expected, there was no sign of it, nor any obvious landmarks to lead them back. This obviously concerned her, but she didn't give him the obligatory, "You know how to get back?" question that was the foundation of relationships everywhere. He could easily imagine Cleopatra saying it to one of her slave drivers as they sailed up the Nile. He met her challenging look calmly, tapped the side of his head as if to say that he knew more than her, and grinned openly when she responded with a thoroughly infuriated expression. He decided to rub it in, as much to test her as to tease her.

"I got it covered," he announced. He glanced at one of the arrows that were thankfully painted on the base of a nearby tree, which she hadn't noticed yet, then pointed back in that direction, "The cabin is 'precisely' in that direction," he said authoritatively. She scowled at that, but made no reply. Either she trusted him, or was saving up a good retort for use at a later time. Like when he was forced to admit that they were lost?

Fortunately, it appeared that the arrow painter also liked to hike long distances, as the tiny arrows continued to show up even after they'd crossed many more hills. He was just about to suggest that they turn back when she shouted down to him from the crest of the hill ahead. Unfortunately, most of the words were absorbed by the tree branches and needles on the floor of the forest, so all he caught was a jumbled exclamation of excitement.

He doubled his efforts to reach the crest only to discover that she'd already disappeared into the next valley. One look could tell him why. They'd stumbled upon, against all probability, the ramshackle remains of an old homestead. Crumbling stone walls marked the outline of what had probably been the main house. Behind it, a few rotted pieces of timber and a low line of mortared rocks marked the foundation of a barn or storage garage. Another pile of rocks in what might've once been a circle could be construed as a well. And a couple hundred feet to the rear was another small pile of timber, possibly marking the site of the family's outhouse.

He pondered the scene, watching her already begin to pick through the ruins like an antique collector at an estate sale. Their discovery already had him trying to answer a lot of interesting questions. Why would anyone build this much stuff in what was inarguably 'the middle of fucking nowhere?' What would they do to earn a living? There clearly was no arable land, or natural resources, except for pine trees and sand. Unless they needed privacy. But who needed this much privacy that long ago? From the looks of the timbers, the place had been abandoned at least 75 years. So, 75 years ago, someone had needed a lot of privacy to do what? If it had been a recent ruin, he would've guessed it was an old meth lab or pot-growing operation. But that old? He suddenly remembered a similar scene from an old movie about rum runners in the South. Did they do that kind of thing up here? Could this have been someone's place to build and run a still?

He shouted down to her to look out for broken glass, then hustled down the hill after her. He watched her exploring probably more than he actually explored on his own. She clearly loved this stuff. Her eyes were alight and he could practically see the wheels spinning as she concocted story after story about the late residents. Nothing nefarious, as his theories tended to be. Probably along the lines of the lone woman homesteader who broke with convention to set out on her own, was tricked into buying this worthless plot of land, decided to make a go of it anyway, and somehow triumphed over the rest of the men around here. Not like a romance novel per se, but something to do with the grit, determination and success of a lone woman against seemingly insurmountable odds. She not only liked the underdog, she liked a very specific kind of underdog.

They poked among the ruins for quite a time, making up a story about the old occupants, each taking a turn to add a notable event, a birth, a death, a marriage or a leaving. By the time they tired of it, the woman had a family, sons, pets, livestock, a thriving home which ultimately emptied a little at a time, leaving her once again alone but content at what she had wrought. He was proud that he hadn't added a single nefarious or sexual section to the story, seeing the contentment with which she created a life history seemingly untouched by the baser human desires and urges. He even managed to keep from giving her anything more than a simple kiss on the cheek during their whole stay there, to keep from besmirching such an innocent fantasy. Finally, having seen all they could see and spun all they could spin, they climbed the hill and headed back to the cabin, guided by his innate knowledge of wood craft, and the little arrows at the base of the trees.

To be continued...

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bbonz1
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