The Cabin, the Snow and Natalie

I don't know why it is—I guess it's because people have compassion—but if you suddenly become a widower at a fairly young age—and I would consider 51 to be young—relatives, friends and neighbors feel a compulsion to try and set you up with dates and invite you out to places. I guess they feel sorry for you.

At any rate, I was one of those. At the age of 51, I worked as a teacher in the local high school, and my wife, only 47 years old, had died about a year ago of breast cancer. Thus, people went out of their way to "set me up" and to make plans for me.

One of those was my neighbor, Jim Morrison. Morrison and his wife Nancy had three daughters: Natalie, 18, who was in her first year of college at Boston U; Noreen, 15, who was in 9th grade, and Nicole, 13, who was in 7th grade. All of the family were sports enthusiasts and liked to go skiing in the White Mountains of New Hampshire at least once during the winter. Morrison usually would rent a cabin up there for a week, and the whole family would go. This time, he had planned to do it during Natalie's Christmas break from school.

"Why don't you come with us for the weekend?" Morrison asked one morning when he was getting ready to leave for work. "The cabin we rent every year is beautiful, and there's plenty of room in it. If you drive up in your own car, you can just come back when you feel like it."

"I don't ski," I replied.

"Who cares? You can enjoy the scenery. It's beautiful up there. You can snowshoe if you want. That doesn't require any special skill."

I thought about it. "It would be nice to get away for awhile."

"Sure it would. I'll tell you what: I have to work on Friday, so I won't be able to leave until Saturday morning. But I know you're off for Christmas vacation. And Natalie's home from school with nothing to do, so why don't you and she drive up in your car on Friday afternoon and get the place ready. She knows where it is."

"All right."

"She's a very bright girl, as you know. But I'll tell her not to annoy you and leave you alone, since you'll probably want to just sit by the fire and read."

"Right." Little did he or I know just how "annoying" Natalie was to become. So I have to tell you about Natalie at this point. As her father pointed out, she was very smart. She also was very pretty: about five-eight, 105 pounds, long dark brown hair that hung nearly to her waist and a petite lithe figure that any movie star would have envied.

When we left that Friday afternoon, she was wearing the usual form-fitting jeans, some kind of furry mukluks and a tan jacket that seemed to be made of the same material. In the car, she pushed off the boots and doffed the jacket. Beneath it, she was wearing a loose gray sweater. Typical college garb, in other words.

Because of her brightness, I found the three-hour drive up to the cabin in the White Mountains to be quite entertaining, and I heard all about her life at Boston U.

"I have a serious boyfriend for the first time in my life," she said with a smile. "But he's from Chicago and is back with his family for Christmas, so I really miss him."

"I can imagine you do."

There was a long period of silence, then she turned to me. "And you know what I miss the most?"

"What?"

"Sex. I was pretty inexperienced when I went to school, but I'm not now. We used to do it ALL the time and EVERYWHERE, a couple of times a week, sometimes every day. So I really miss it." She quickly turned to me. "But don't tell my dad."

I laughed. "I won't, and I'm flattered that you would confide in me."

"I always felt that I could trust you," she said. "You were always really nice to me when I was growing up."

"Was I? I never noticed."

"Yes. You were."

We fell into silence and listened to the radio for the rest of the journey. We also stopped at the small grocery store in the town before the climb up into the mountains and bought some food supplies plus a couple of bottles of wine and a bottle of brandy. I had to buy the booze since Natalie was not old enough to purchase liquor.

"Daddy also will be picking up stuff tomorrow," she assured.

"Okay, then I guess we have enough—in case we get snowbound."

She laughed.

The dirt road to the cabin was a little slippery with all the snow, but I finally managed to swing into the front.

"If you want to get the bags and the groceries, I'll start a fire," Natalie said. "They always supply you with plenty of wood—which is a good thing, since it gets below freezing up here during the night."

"Sounds cozy."

"It is, but the cabin is cold as a tomb when you first get here."

I didn't realize at the time just how "cozy" it was going to get—and I don't think she did either.

The cabin was relatively spare but furnished with the necessities, such as a wood-burning stove in the center of the living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, one small bedroom downstairs, and three bedrooms, including the master bedroom, and another bathroom upstairs. By the time I had finished hauling in the two suitcases and the three boxes of groceries and looking around a bit, Natalie had a nice fire started, and the cabin was warming up rapidly. I sat in the couch facing the fire.

"You can take the downstairs bedroom," she said. "It's small with a single bed, but it's warmer at night because you're closer to the fire. I'll take one of the rooms upstairs."

"Okay." I took my suitcase into the bedroom and put it on the dresser. The bedroom was sparsely furnished but comfortable looking.

When I returned and sat back down in the couch to face the fire, Natalie was just descending the steps. "It's great when the fire's going," she said, "But I have to warn you that when the fire goes out around three a.m., it gets freezing cold in here. You can either pull more covers around you or get up and make another fire."

"More covers sounds better."

"I agree—and easier." She walked over to the table where I had placed the boxes. "Can I offer you a glass of your wine?"

"Good idea. Have one for yourself. I not sure what the drinking age is in this state, but you're not going to be driving, so I don't think either one of us will be arrested."

"Right." She poured both of us a glass and brought them over. She handed one to me and sat down beside me. "Cheers," I said, and we clinked glasses. I began to think how luxurious this was: a 51-year-old man drinking wine with a beautiful 18-year-old before a warm mountain fire.

"There isn't much to do up here at night," she said apologetically. "We could turn on the radio if you want, or play cards. There's no TV."

"All of which sounds boring. Why don't you tell me about college—and your new sex life," I said with a smile.

I had meant the last part facetiously, but she in fact took it seriously and with the utter candor symptomatic of the young today told me all about her new sex life—how much it had hurt the first time but how much she had enjoyed it after that, how she actually liked the taste of semen once she got used to it, how she liked to do it in places where they ran the risk of getting caught.

"The only thing we haven't done is anal," she said, "I'm saving that."

"For what?"

"For the end!" she said with a laugh.

Lucky I was wearing loose trousers, since her Sherazade tales were giving me an erection, the first I had had in a long time. But finally, after three glasses of wine, I also was feeling sleepy.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," I said, "Before these tales of yours give me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry," she said with a laugh. "I guess I had too much wine. I usually don't open up like that, but like I said: I trust you."

"I'll see you tomorrow then," I said as I went into the bedroom.

"Right. Goodnight."

The bedroom and the bed were delightfully comfortable for the first couple of hours, but then around 3 a.m., just as Natalie had foretold, the fire had apparently gone out, and I woke up to find that the cabin was beginning to get cold. Quite cold.

I was wondering if there were any more blankets around the room when I heard the stairs squeak. At Natalie's suggestion, I had left the bedroom door open to maximize the heat potential.

"Are you asleep?" she whispered, poking her head into the room. I could see her from the moonlight coming in the window.

"No, the cold woke me up. I can see what you mean about the fire."

"You ought to be upstairs. I am actually freezing. I had forgotten that daddy brings all the extra blankets when he comes up. I only have one blanket on the bed, and I've been freezing all night."

I looked up. She had the one blanket wrapped around her and appeared to be shivering with the cold.

"Do you want to sleep down here?" I asked her, "You could combine your blanket with mine and make both of us warmer."

"Could I? That would be great."

"Sure. Slide in." I opened the blanket. She opened her blanket as well and quickly spread it across us. I could see that she was clad in a thin pair of white nylon pajamas, and when she bent over, it was quite apparent from the lack of a panty line that she was not wearing any underwear. She quickly slid in beside me, and I pulled the covers over her, "Or would you rather I make a fire?" I asked.

"No, this is fine. It's a lot warmer than my room." She turned over, curled her legs up and moved back against me. Since it was a double bed, I obviously could have given her more room, but she didn't appear to want more room. She appeared to want one warm body pressing against another. The only problem was she didn't realize the affect the back of her warm lithe body was having on me: I was beginning to get an erection.

"Can I put my hands on your waist?" I asked, "I'm afraid to put them anywhere else."

"Sure," she said with a laugh. I did so, but then was surprised a minute or two later when she took my right hand and moved it up the front of her body under the pajama top to her breast, which was small but felt very nice. Her nipple was cold and hard. "See how cold I am?" she asked.

'Yes...I can see that." I also could feel my erection growing.

She turned. "I have a confession to make."

"What's that?"

"As I said, Bobby, my boyfriend, is the only person I've ever had sex with. And once I found out that you and I would be coming up here and spending the night together with no one else around, I began to wonder how I might be able to get you to have sex with me. I wanted to see what it would be like with another person: particularly an older man who wouldn't go around bragging about it."

I laughed. "I certainly wouldn't do that—especially to your father."

"Right. And this—the cold—seemed to be a good way to possibly make it happen."

"Then I have a confession to make to you."

"What's that?"

"Your rubbing against me like that when your back was turned, with your pajamas so thin and apparently no underwear underneath them was giving me an erection, the first one I've had in years. At first I was embarrassed about it, but I guess I don't need to be."

"I know, I could feel it. And no, you don't have to be embarrassed about it. In fact, I would like to see it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

I pushed the covers down. "Well, this is the first time I've ever exposed myself to a girl of your age, but I guess you're asking for it."

"Yes, I am."

I unsnapped my pajama bottoms and pushed them down. My erection was an inch and a half thick and about seven inches long and, as I said, the biggest one I've had in years.

"Wow. You're bigger than Bobby."

"Thank you. And I know how you could make it bigger."

"How's that?"

"Take off your pajamas."

"All right." She started to unbutton her top.

"Just a minute." The only light in the room was that from the moon, so I decided to improve the situation a little. I leaned over her and turned on the nightstand lamp. "I want to see this," I said, kneeling on the bed. "This is a sight I haven't experienced in a long time."

With a smile, she finished unbuttoning her pajama top, sat up, pulled it off, and tossed it on the floor. She had small but beautiful breasts, with penny-sized nipples.

"You have lovely breasts," I said.

"They're too small."

"No they're not. They're just right."

She smiled and pushed her thumbs under the elastic of her pajama bottoms.

"Just a minute. I want to do this part." I took the elastic in both hands and slowly pulled it down, exposing the crinkly hairs of her brown bush as she lifted her bottom up. Her little brown bush was only about an inch wide and about four inches long, and the hair had been trimmed to less than an inch, presumably so she could wear a bikini. Finally, I pulled her pajama pants all the way down to her ankles. She lifted her feet so I could take them off completely, and I tossed them on the floor. Then I looked at her from top to bottom. "You are really beautiful," I said.

"Thank you." She put her hands behind her head, spread her legs a little, and smiled. "You are too. I can hardly wait to taste your penis."

"That sounds too clinical. Is there another word for it beginning with a 'c'?"

She smiled again. "I can hardly wait to suck your cock."

"Do it now then." I straddled her body and moved forward.

She took my aroused member in her small hand and guided it to her lips. First, she kissed the end of it, then she licked around the head, and then she took it in her mouth. "There's no way I'm going to be able to take all of it," she said, taking it out.

"Just do what you can," I said, "Can I come in your mouth?"

"You can if you save some for after."

"I will."

She took about half of it in her mouth, swirled her tongue around, and began sucking. I should have had better staying power, but I couldn't resist the picture of this beautiful face sucking my cock, and in a short time, I erupted into her mouth. She choked a little at first but finally managed to swallow all of it.

"How did it taste?" I asked.

"Different than Bobby, but good."

I knew I was going to have to wait awhile for the second round, but I also knew exactly how I wanted to spend that time. "Now I want to do you," I said, "I want you to come in my mouth."

"I would LOVE that," she said, "I don't often get that."

I moved back a bit and knelt down between her legs. She raised her legs up so they were bent at the knees, thus giving me a better angle. Since her hair had been trimmed, her nether lips appeared to be covered with just a light down. I licked her lips a couple of times and then eased my tongue in.

And she began to make the strangest sound. It was sort of like a whimper mixed with a moan. "Oh...ah...oh..." I loved it. The sound of her moaning really turned me on. And I was surprised to see how quickly she came. It was easy to spot: she suddenly got all wet and warm inside. "Isssst," was the sound she made.

I knelt up.

"Wow," she said, "That was the best orgasm I've ever had."

I looked down. "And you've given me the biggest erection I've ever had, despite coming in your mouth just a few minutes ago. There's only one thing I can do with it."

"What's that?"

"I'm going to have to fuck you."

"Finally."

"But you have to ask me for it."

"I have to ask you?"

"That's right."

She smiled. "PLEASE fuck me, Mr. Baxter."

"All right." I put my hands under her narrow hips and raised them up to get a better angle. She held them up as I took my cock in hand and gently eased it into her—all the way to the hilt.

"Oh God," she moaned.

This time, I was determined to make it last. I fucked her slowly and deliciously for about 20 minutes, with her whimpering and moaning all the time. Finally I came deep inside of her.

"I could feel you squirt in me," she said.

"Which reminds me—and this is a fine time to think of this—but should I have been using a condom?"

"No, I'm on the pill."

"Thank goodness." I didn't want to leave her, so I put my arms around her and rolled over on my back with her on top of me.

"Are you going to do it again?" she asked with a laugh.

"No, I think this is it for tonight. I just don't want to come out. And my only regret is that this is a One-Night Stand."

"Maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're going to be here for a week. I know you were only planning to stay for the weekend, but you could tell daddy than you really loved it here and ask him if you could stay for the week, since you don't have to work. With all these girls around, I know he would be glad to have your male company—and so would I. I'm sure I could make it worth your wile," she added with a wicked smile.

"Really?"

"Sure. My mom and dad, me and my sisters all sleep upstairs, and you are the only one downstairs. There's nothing that would prevent me from quietly sneaking down every night after everyone was asleep and entertaining you."

"What about all that moaning and whimpering? That would wake up the whole house."

"I could bite a pillow. That's what I do when Bobby and I are doing someplace where we could get caught."

I thought about it.

"You'll never get an offer like this again," she said.

"You're right about that. Okay, I'll do it."

"You won't regret it."

And I didn't. From the hours of midnight until 3 a.m., she sucked me off royally every night, and then I fucked her until both of us were sore. I'm sure we both looked a little tired in the morning, but we attributed that to difficulty sleeping because of the cold. Best of all, she saved "the end" for the end, the last night.

"Bottoms up," she said, lifting a glass of wine.

I felt very honored.

-the end-