The Cabin

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!"

"Inside?"

"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.

"Mmmhmm."

"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. "Little bastards." 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. 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?"

"Mmmhmmm."

"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.

"Probably."

"Well there's breakfast downstairs when you want it."

"How long have you been up?"

He shrugged, "a few hours."

"A few hours? What time is it?"

"Let's see, it's nine-thirty."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, why?"

"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."

***

Twenty minutes later she walked into the kitchen.

"Well hello," he said looking up from the newspaper, "coffee?"

"Umm... juice?"

"Orange?"

"Dear god yes."

He laughed as she smiled, "coming right up. Do you want a light breakfast or a heavy breakfast."

"I can get it, I don't want to put you out."

"My home training suggests otherwise. We're both staying here, but it's my cabin; that makes you my guest, so, heavy or light?"

"Light."

He handed her a glass of fresh orange juice and she wandered onto the front deck as he prepared her plate. She was astonished by the quiet, it came from every direction. She sat in a comfortable chair watching the river in the distance, and then noticed that the candles, table and chairs they'd sat in the night before were gone. Just then Andrew was next to her, handing her a plate with fresh fruit, a small cup of oatmeal and a piece of toast.

"Thank you." She said grabbing a piece of melon and popping it in her mouth. He disappeared back into the cabin and she ate alone, watching the birds as they hopped about, curious of her presence. When she had finished, she tossed bread crumbs to her newfound winged friends and went back inside. Andrew was on the couch, still reading the paper, and she passed him and went into the kitchen.

She emerged, stretching and said "so what are you going to do today?"

He looked up from the paper. "Do you feel like a walk before lunch, I have a basket packed? If not I won't be offended, just wanted to offer"

"I don't know..."

"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 fell.

"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, until they could barely see in front of their faces, and 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. After a few more seconds he gave up, grabbed her hand and ran off of the porch, down the path and around the cabin to the hot tub.

He jerked off his coat, and struggled to get his soaked sweater over his head. "What are you doing?" she yelled over the roaring thunder.

"Getting in!" He flung his t-shirt aside and peeled his jeans off, standing in nothing but his boxers before jumping down into the steaming tub. He looked up at her, "this is where you take your clothes off and get in! You're going to freeze!"

"I'm already freezing!"

"Well then what the hell are you waiting for?"

"I'm just supposed to take off all of my clothes?"

Andrew turned his back to her. "There, now get in woman!"

With the privacy she needed, Camille kicked off her shoes and pulled of her jeans and jacket, standing in her lace panties and a pale pink tank top. She stepped down into the tub and sighed as the heat enveloped her.

"Okay, I'm in."

Andrew turned back around and immediately splashed her, laughing nearly out of control at the shocked expression on her face, water dripping from her nose and chin. She splashed him back and they went to war until there was just as much water out of the hot tub as there was in it, and the rain and hot water became one and the same. Finally they collapsed across from each other, deep in the tub as the downpour eventually reduced to a shower.

"I'm not sure this was the best idea."

"Why?"

"Well, because when we get out of here the air is going to be freezing."

Camille literally shuddered at the thought and looked at him expectedly.

"I'll go", he sighed.

***

About ten minutes later Andrew came back from the cabin in dry clothes. He held open her robe as she scoffed, "close your eyes mister, you've already seen me in my underwear, and that was enough."

"Oh be quiet", he said, but closed his eyes anyway. She stood and pulled the robe on, wrapping it tight. He opened his eyes and then held out her flip flops. "So your feet don't get muddy," he said. They walked to the cabin and she went inside and to the fireplace which he had wisely lit when he first came in.

"Well 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 over 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 in his hand, 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, "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, his hand under her robe.

Camille sipped her tea some and set it back on the coffee table, her eyes glued to him.

"At the risk of ruining the moment, I'm going to say something."

She leaned her head against the couch with a raised eyebrow. "What is it?"

"This is very easy."

"What is?"

"Being here...with you."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Maybe it's just me."

She shook her head, "it's not just you." The words were soft and clear.

"No?"

She shook her head; her face flushed hot, heart pounding.

"Wow, well that's not what I expected you to say."

"What did you expect?"

"Oh, I don't know...something more like 'get the hell out'.

She laughed, shaking her head.

"Well then, how far do we take this new found ease?" His hand had inched ever so slowly up her leg, over her knee, and up the side of her thigh to her hip and he moved unassumingly closer to her. She stretched both of her legs across his and his hands continued their mesmerizing assault. "Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head shyly and watched as he opened her robe, revealing her smooth soft skin, caressing every inch with his fingers, and then his tongue.

'I have a question," she whispered.

"What would that be?"

"Did you ever..." She laughed nervously and shook her head. "Did you ever...fantasize...about me. In high school."

"Of course!" he laughed.

"Really?"

"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."

She sat up about, more aware than ever of his hands on her legs. "Tell me about it."

"Well, what do you want to know? I was a healthy teenage boy. All I ever had to do was close my eyes, and you were right there."

"And what did you see?"

He leaned closer, "I could see you. I could smell you...taste you." She raised an eyebrow as he smiled knowingly.

"Did you have a specific scenario?"

"I had a few, as a matter of fact, but the one I liked the most..." he trailed off, in deep thought, slowly taking in a heavy breath.

"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.

"Did you ever notice the ceiling in this room?"

Camille looked up at the burgundy fabric that draped elegantly across the ceiling. "Yes, it's beautiful."

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?"

"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."

"How?"

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." He kissed her again, gripping the front of her robe. "You should tell me to stop now."

"I don't think I can do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I-I want to know what you feel like. I want to feel you touch me."

"Camille..." he lost his train of thought as she untied the robe and slowly pulled it open.

"Touch me."

He sighed, looking at her.

"Andrew," she whispered, her body next to his, "please."

He wrapped his arms around her naked body and kissed her passionately. He sunk to his knees, covering her flesh with his lips as she gasped, her body shivering. He stood again and they moved to the bed. He pulled off his t-shirt and pushed her robe to the floor. The collapsed to the bed and he truly, patiently, ravished her. Eventually he pushed down his sweatpants and boxers.

"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, but she could not control the very same desire, and she kept gasping his name; he could feel her pussy tighten around his cock with each push.

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.

She 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 in quick spasms, the feeling was like nothing else.