Rhoda's Rainy Weekend

He switched on the windscreen wipers as heavy droplets began to fall, flashing brightly in the headlights as the truck climbed the road up the mountainside. The night was dark, the slopes steep around him and pine trees lined the road as he swept around the switch-back curves.

Eventually the gradient topped out and he began the descent. The summery storm was now beating down and he took care as he had no desire to get stranded in a night-time ditch miles from any town. He cracked open the window an inch and inhaled the scent from the damp forestry as the oppressive humidity of the day dissipated. It was refreshing after the muggy heat to be able to switch off the air con of the truck which dried his nasal passages.

He saw lights in the distance and then just as described on his handwritten sheet of paper, the open gateway that accessed the track to the cabin. It was a gloriously isolated position he thought, but why anyone would spend winter here he couldn't imagine.

He was past his first flush of youth and now that he'd never see his thirty-fifth birthday again he had noticed some occasional grey hairs appearing on his temple. Vanity had led him to pluck the offending strands so that his mid-brown hair was retained. He was naturally slim and had yet to develop the bulging gut that so many of his contemporaries were growing. Single once more, on the market for love now that his ex-wife had been divorced. He had finally bitten the bullet, after too many drunken scenes and the incessant rows that had started to affect his health. Life was too short to put up with the crap.

So here he was, making his way to a date with an ex-girlfriend from way back. She had contacted him out of the blue several weeks previously via a social networking site. He remembered her as somewhat jolly in nature, carrying just too much weight but with spectacularly innocent-looking wide brown eyes and long raven locks of hair. Tall, with 36C breasts which bore nipples that always rose to his touch. Why they had split, he couldn't really remember. They hadn't really separated – merely drifted apart and then he had met 'The Drunk'. A wild passionate courtship with crazy had ensued, followed by a spiral of jealous fights and alcoholic stupors. Never mind that, it was all behind him and he had the rest of his life to enjoy, peacefully.

The old flame had apparently never married, never had children. Why was she searching out old relationships? His mind churned as he followed the headlights, wipers washing waves of water across the windscreen, the wheels bouncing on rocks hidden in puddles.

He realised that the track was widening into a turning area. He reversed the truck and parked next to a small city car which stood there already. Most people had dates in a bar or restaurant, he mused. This one was in a hut in the mountains surrounded by bears and wolves.

He killed the engine and alighted. The cabin was a short walk away, lights were showing in the windows and he could make out a wooden deck with the black water of the lake behind it. He grabbed the bottle of expensive wine that he had brought and his coat which he threw over his head, then automatically locked the car with the remote key-fob as he bolted for the door.

The door opened before he reached it and she was standing, framed in the light. A short dark blue tailored sleeveless skin-tight dress with a high neckline up to her throat, high heels, dark stockings - yes it was her. Always well groomed with an effortless style. Her luxuriant locks were shorter and more expensively styled, but something else had altered. The thick waist had gone, she was athletic - muscular even. He hesitated and took in the vision, she looked gorgeous. Her breasts stood proudly, not a hint of droop, contrasting with the taut midsection, fully rounded ass and toned thighs.

“John.” The single word hung between them.

“Rhoda.” He replied with matching simplicity.

“You made it, I was wondering if you would.”

“Why would I not? We shared some good times. Hey, you're looking good, Rhodes.”

“And yourself.” She looked him up and down. “Come inside anyway, out of the snow.”
She stood back and he entered. They hugged briefly, formally. The place was warm and bright, chintz furnishings and a simple dining table laid with candles and flowers. He could smell food cooking in the oven. She took the bottle, placed it on the table and thanked him. Then they sat on the sofa, stiffly distant after the years apart.

He broke the silence. “Your place then? A lovely spot.”

Rhoda nodded. “My parents have both passed and I inherited enough to get this as a weekend retreat. I come here to get away from things and relax, then on a Monday it's back to the rat-race.

“So, how did things pan out for you?” She paused for him to answer.

John considered how much of the tale of woe to tell. “Married, no kids, messy divorce. I had to sell the house as part of the settlement, now it's an apartment until I recover.

“So, I give in” he continued. “What's this about? I mean, years after we stop seeing each other, you find me and get in touch. Why?” His curiosity was unabated.

“I had some stuff in my life, that's all. That was getting sorted and I was thinking about how things were turning out, compared to what I thought life would be like when I was a kid.

“I was without a husband, family, dog. I never really got over you I suppose, so I started looking around and there you were on the web. It was an impulse in many ways, but I thought, what the hell, what's the worse thing that could happen. So here we are.”

They chatted like this for a while,stupid pointless rubbish, then dinner was ready. She was a good cook, nothing complicated but well prepared and tasty. After they had eaten they exchanged even more about their life stories, then eventually it was getting late and John found himself glancing at his wrist-watch. He began to think of the drive back to the city. He still couldn't think of any reason why he was there, making small-talk about nothing. It was turning midnight; he looked outside and found that the torrential weather was continuing – he could hear it hammering on the roof anyway, didn't need to check - and there was a gushing stream coming from the direction of the vehicles and the track from the main road.

“Wow!” Rhoda inspected the scene from the doorway, the noise drumming in their ears. “How far do you have to go?”

“A couple of hours – if I can get up the hill.” John kissed her chastely on the cheek, bade farewell and dashed back to the truck. However the wheels span uselessly every time he tried to drive up the slope towards the road. After a dozen tries he gave in, all he was achieving was a ripped up strip of land. Perhaps an Ice Road Trucker would laugh at his abilities but there was no way that he could get the car through the churned mud. He returned to the house with a shrug, shaking droplets from his clothes and kicking off his caked shoes.

“It looks like you'll have to stay the night, I can put you up,” Rhoda offered. “There's only the sofa but I have spare pillows and quilts, plus there's a reasonable coffee in the morning”.

He felt depressed. Staying at a strange person's house at short notice was not his idea of fun, he had no gear beyond an emergency razor he kept in the truck and whilst she was friendly enough, the evening had dragged on. The old spark had gone, perhaps on-line dating sites were his destiny after all.

However he had few options for the night so he gracefully accepted the inevitable. Rhoda made up a bed for him, they spoke for a great deal longer about nothing much, shared a nightcap – even found a joke or two to chuckle at - and retired for the night.

John found it fairly uncomfortable and lay awake in the unfamiliar room, his bed was far too short and sloped backwards. He was used to sleeping naked so the lack of night-clothes was no problem, indeed he would have found it difficult to sleep at all otherwise. There was also the thought of Rhoda being in the next room and he was imposing on her hospitality. At least it was warm and he shucked the quilt from an arm and a leg so he could enjoy the cooler air. Eventually he slept fitfully.

He was awakened by movement in the room. Rhoda was standing in front of him in the near blackness, standing still silently. He raised himself on an elbow, letting her know that he was aware of her presence.

“I need to talk.” She spoke quietly but firmly. “When I said I had some stuff to sort out, I didn't explain what. However, I needed to see you again, to get closure or progress things, whatever.”

He could make out her silhouette in the shadows but he couldn't make out any detail. He strained his eyes but he couldn't distinguish any detail. Rhoda leant down to him and took his hand. “Come with me.”

She led him across the room to the doorway to her room and suddenly he was fifteen years younger, nude in her company. She sat on her bed, as he perched alongside wondering what was to happen.

In the dim light he could make out the shape of her breast, nipple raised and erect – yes, it was like old times. She lifted his hand and wordlessly pressed it to the soft flesh. She was fuller and slightly heavier with the passing years but her scent was wonderfully reminiscent. The nipple rested firmly against his thumb just as when they were young.

He bent the nipple upwards and his fingers gently stroked the sensitive skin beneath it for a while, then he moved across her cleavage. Further and further his hand brushed her body until he realised that he was stroking her arm-pit. Still fuddled with sleep yet tense with anticipation, the significance didn't strike him immediately but then he brought his hand back. Again, he met no resistance until he found the original breast.

Her face was towards him. “I had an illness and had to have it removed. That was what I had to sort out.” She reached out to a switch with her free hand and a bedside light illuminated the room with a sudden, harsh glare. Her single breast stood alone, with a cruel scar across the ribcage replacing its partner. His fingers automatically traced along the livid line and over the ribs up to her shoulder before he could stop himself. He stopped suddenly, embarrassed. He looked down to her black lace panties, trying to tear his eyes back to her face.

“It's okay, it's what I brought you down here for. It's really lucky about the rain otherwise I wouldn't have had the nerve to go through with it. I so nearly bottled out.” She gazed straight into his eyes. “I haven't been with a man since the operation, haven't felt up to it. My friends keep telling me to get a boyfriend but it's not something you can talk about on a first date. I know it's ugly, but I need to know if a man can still fancy me.”

“I don't understand” he stammered. “I never noticed, you looked perfectly natural.”

“A simple lump of silicone, tucked inside a bra. Nothing complicated.”

John realised that any erection he had developed when he had entered the bedroom had disappeared. He had never been circumcised and the skin fully enclosed his glans. He was suddenly self-concious for them both and whispered “Switch the light off.”

“No, I need to know that I'm still attractive. I don't want you imagining someone else in the darkness.” She took hold of his cock and tightened her fingers around him as he looked at her in the unforgiving light. She kissed him. “I always loved you, you know. I could never work out why we drifted apart.”

She rose and pushed him backwards on the bed, then she was kneeling over him, straddling his thighs with her single breast jutting out as she threw her head back, shaking her hair loose. Her stomach was flat and her thong panties were high cut over the hips and tight against the contours of her pussy. The groove was clearly visible as she settled.

John rested his hands on her hips and ran his fingers over her smooth stomach and round to the hard buttocks, her muscles rippling to his touch.

She held him again, moving her hand and fingers until he was erect. She retracted his foreskin until his glans protruded eagerly, pulling the skin a little too far which caused him to wince with sudden, delicious pain. Her fingers and thumb barely met around the thick shaft, glistening with the fresh exposure to the air. She squeezed the glans and felt him tense in reflex, enjoying the power of his erection. He reached up to her solitary breast and stroked it, watching as her nipple stiffened further and she bent down to nestle it into his hand. Instinctively John sat up and kissed the tender flesh, running his teeth gently over it so that she held her breath.

He embraced her and they hugged, the scarred skin hidden between them. Rhoda held his face and kissed him deeply, then adjusted her legs so that she knelt in his lap with his cock against her belly, the base pressing against her clitoris. She wriggled her hips to increase the sensation, the action stirring his memories of their lovemaking many years previously. He pushed forwards to increase the pressure.

She pushed him back down and raised herself so that she was able to ease the strip of lace over her hips. He stilled her and drew down the panties himself, exposing her narrow trimmed strip of hair and freshly shaved pussy. Her inner labia was more darkly pigmented than he remembered, her thighs wide apart over him.

She moved so that he was able to remove the flimsy garment completely, then as she squatted back down he guided her to his face. As she lowered herself he flicked his tongue over her clitoris and she remained still to allow him to continue. John supported her weight with his hands under her bum and licked deeper around and between her inner labia, enjoying the same musky scent that triggered such memories, transporting him back through the years.

Eventually he let her down and she moved back so that she could reach his penis again. He was still stiff and she guided him into the depths of her vagina as she sank onto him. She was moist and well lubricated and she sighed happily with the old familiar contact, his girth filling and stretching her. Then she began to move against him, establishing a rhythm that he had no desire to disrupt.

Her breaths became deeper and faster as she developed the movement, and even more as he thrusted upwards into her. She whimpered softly as he swivelled his hips under her and pressed his thumbs into her armpits to support her. Then she took her own weight on her hands and fucked him determinedly, her hips synchronised to his movements. Eventually they both came and he moved no more as he expelled himself into her body.

Rhoda sat down on his lap, his cock still within her until he became completely flaccid and they recovered their breath. Despite her efforts to grip him with her internal muscles, he shrank and withdrew, so after some minutes she rose, slowly separating the stickiness between them. She stood over him, still with her legs apart and after a moment some fluid dripped from her and landed on his belly. Rhoda extended her finger and rubbed it in the goo, spreading it around in circles until it disappeared.

She climbed down onto the floor and unembarrassed wiped the inside of her thighs with the palm of her hand, before striding out of the room to the bathroom. She returned soon after and moved the bed-covers to cover them both. She switched off the lamp and they slept together embracing.

Soon daylight flooded through the window as dawn broke. She sat up, holding the covers to her chest in contemplation as he watched her. He gently tugged the covers away and stroked her breast again.

“Thank you.” she spoke quietly.

He considered the words, no-one had ever thanked him for a fuck before. “What ever for?”

The scar looked less significant now, in the natural light. Unless you looked, he thought, it wasn't even obvious.

“Thanks for not being horrified, not rejecting me, for showing me that I can still be, you know, sexy.”

“You were always sexy, always will be. I can't imagine that ever changing, it doesn't depend on the number of breasts.” As he spoke, he realised that something had changed. The atmosphere had broken, what had been tense and uncomfortable last night was now easy and relaxed.

“You know, having that happen – the illness, gives you one tremendous knock to your self-esteem. My body image didn't exist any more, you have no idea how hard it was to come out of my room last night.” She took his hand from her breast and placed it onto the ridge of scar tissue. “I had planned this whole seduction thing, stockings, garters, lingerie, the lot. And I ended up walking around in the dark like a burglar.”

He traced along it again with his fingers. “Are you going to have an implant or stick with the falsie?”

“I don't know, I don't have to make a decision any time soon. For the time being I'll just stick with the plastic boob.” She stood and walked from the room and soon he could hear the toilet flushing, followed by the shower running.

He was fit to burst himself and when she returned, still naked and rubbing her hair with a towel, he took her place. When he had taken a leak and a shower, he returned to find her lying flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her legs were slightly apart and she was running her fingers through the scrap of pubic hair, unashamed.

“I've been thinking” she announced. “ Do you have to be anywhere today?”

“No, I've got the rest of the weekend off, work tomorrow, that's all.”

“There's only one way that I'm going to get rid of my inhibitions about my body. Can you stay with me for today and we'll both spend the day together? You know, like nude.”

John hesitated. It seemed a strange thing to consider.

“Come on,” she urged him “I need to get accustomed to my situation and having someone see me. You'll be a big help. Tell you what, you don't have to stay undressed if you don't want to, just keep me company to help me build my confidence.”

In truth he had nothing to draw him back to his apartment. He looked out of the window, the ground was still saturated. Beyond the decking near to the cabin the lake was dark and still except for rain drops splashing, with a slight haze in the air above the water.

In the end he agreed to stay, and to be undressed. She jumped up and strode to the kitchen, returning several minutes later with plates of eggs and toast with mugs of coffee. They breakfasted whilst perched on the edge of the bed and then she brushed her hair, her single breast jiggling with the movement.

“What shall we do today?” Rhoda stood in front of the window, hands on hips. Her taut buttocks and muscular back framed by the majestic scenery in the distance.

The only thing he could think of was to shovel out the muddy track to the road. Whilst naked? It didn't sound appealing. Anyway it was still raining, although much lighter now; the storm was blown out.

“Let's have a swim in the lake.” Her suggestion seemed even more bizarre than shovelling mud. “Really.” She opened the door and there was a blast of fresh air.

John jumped back to avoid the draught. “You've lost your mind. It's bloody freezing.”

Rhoda laughed, her nipple jiggling enticingly. “Haven't you noticed the steam on the water? There's a volcanic vent underneath, it's like having a bath. Just run across the deck and jump straight in, it's fantastic. Come on, follow me!”

With that, she was off, her hips swaying and still-damp hair blowing as she ran across the boards. Without hesitation she launched herself into the air, arms and legs flailing and landed in the water with an immense splash. She rose to the surface almost immediately and turned, laughing. “Are you staying there then?”

He braced himself and put a bare foot onto the wood. The rain spattered onto his warm skin, suddenly cold.