Cabin Fever

A story of two women who found each other on the internet. You will hear from three Literotica authors, Robin (Robingreen678), Julie (Xeriscapartist) and Jonathan (Lancerlott) each telling portions of the story from their perspective.

Robin...

Cabin fever is a state of mind. When I lived in the North I always thought it was associated with winter and having activity limited by the weather, being trapped indoors. Now that I live in the South I have found that cabin fever can happen here as well when every now and then, perhaps as seasons change, I just need to get away. Call it cabin fever or whatever you chose but every year, it seems, at some point near the start of Spring I am afflicted. I need to leave the people I see every day, change the scene and get some alone time.

I live in Florida now but over the years have lived in various parts of the country, always near the ocean. Many years ago, when I first sold my business, I bought a dilapidated beach cabin in North Carolina that didn't even have a bathroom. After much effort and dollars spent I now own a dilapidated beach cabin in North Carolina that has a bathroom. It is rented all year long so it also provides some income. One month every year it is mine, my cabin fever escape. When cabin fever month arrived I packed up and headed north.

Julie...

It had been a cold, wet and dark winter in Chicago. I made it to work every day, but this especially gloomy winter was beginning to show in my attitude. The energy I tried to bring to my job every single day was waning. Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) was kicking my butt. I wanted sunshine and warmer days and the beach more than ever. Perhaps it was just cabin fever.

Like others, I suppose, I had, in my younger years experimented with other women. In college, a roommate seduced me and I found that I very much enjoyed what I now call the 'soft side' of sex. There were one or two other women after college and when I met and married Eric a few group sex experiences. As it always does, being a grown up got in the way of a crazy sex life. After Eric and I had children, the 'soft side' of sex was put away, seemingly forever.

I was about thirty-six when I attended a party with Eric. My friend Susan and her husband were also there. Susan, maybe after having had a little too much to drink, cornered me in the bathroom. She awkwardly told me she loved me, and tried to kiss me. Because we were both a little drunk, it ended almost as a non event, but on the way home I mentioned it to Eric. His advice to me was to let it go or to talk to Susan about it.

Three days later, on a visit to Susan's house, I brought it up. Susan was embarrassed and again apologized. She, without urging on my part, went on to explain that she had feelings for me that went beyond our friendship, but she was sorry she pushed it on me. I asked her if it wasn't just the booze. Susan thought for a moment, took a deep breath and blurted out. "Julie, it wasn't the drinks. I love you, and I don't apologize for that. I just feel bad that I pushed it on you when you don't feel the same."

I didn't know what to say. Susan was one of the best friends I had ever had. I loved her like a sister and had once or twice fantasized about more with her but had never thought it was possible. Suddenly it was not only possible, all I had to do was submit to it.

I stepped toward Susan and took her hand. "We are not drunk now. Would you like to try that kiss again?"

Susan didn't say a word. She didn't move. She really didn't react at all initially.

After a moment she looked at me and said: "Really? You feel the same?"

"Susan, we can take this slow, but for now, shut up and kiss me."

That first kiss was so soft and gentle, just testing the waters. When Susan parted her lips and touched mine with her tongue, everything changed. I opened my mouth slightly and our tongues touched.

I had told her that we could take it slow, but nothing was moving slowly now. Susan was the first to go beyond the kiss. She pulled my top out of my jeans and moved her hands up my back and unhooked my bra. The touch of her hands on my back was electric and I wanted more.

She pulled the top and bra up and off in one motion. My breasts spilled out and Susan was on them, kissing them and sucking my nipples. With that, we lost all inhibitions both physical and verbal. When Susan's lips closed on my nipple I moaned: "Oh fuck yes!" Before either of us could even think, we were both naked in Susan's bed and making love.

I surprised myself when I told Susan: "I want to lick you."

Susan told me again: "I love you, Julie."

We made love for hours but with Susan's husband coming home soon, I left Susan and went home. It wouldn't be the last time we were together. That evening over dinner, I told Eric that I had talked to Susan about the kiss.

He simply said: "Oh, and how did it go? Just the booze right?" When I didn't answer he said: "Julie?"

I looked up and told him "She told me she loved me."

He said : "And?"

I bit my lip and paused. I looked at Eric and said: "I love you. I will always love you."

He smiled and said: "You had sex with her, didn't you?"

"I love you so much and don't want to lose what we have... yes... I had sex with her."

Eric was silent for a while and then said: "Tell me everything, every time just as you did tonight and I can live with this. You can have us both."

Eric and I had sex that night as if it were our first time. Half-kidding, he asked if he could watch and if maybe I could bring Susan home some night. I halfheartedly slapped him.

"No, don't even think about it!" In spite of my words both would eventually happen.

Two years went by and my life was great and then the unthinkable happened. Susan's husband, who knew nothing of her life with me was transferred. Seemingly in an instant, she he was gone from my life.

A year or so later, there was another woman and then later still another. Each in my life for a brief time, but there was no love. It was only about that 'soft side' sex for both and each ended as quickly as they began. As time went by it all became history. Almost as though it was someone else's story.

Out of frustration and boredom and perhaps from some sense of unfulfilled desire, I began to write for an online publisher of erotic stories. After only having a few stories published, my interest in writing diminished. Initially, writing seemed to fill a need, perhaps because my 'soft side' lover Susan had moved away. Yes, I was married and my husband did fill my life, but there was always in my heart the desire to experience again the 'soft side' of my sexuality, the love of a woman.

Robin...

Somehow Julie found me, a fellow writer, on line. She read one of my stories and felt a link, something she could not explain. Our relationship was very casual at first, just e-mails. As we explored our sexuality through our writing it began to mean more and grow slowly. We actually have very little in common and yet there was something hiding in our stories and e-mail exchanges.

I find it interesting that we are both pushing into our 60's. At 63 I have already arrived. Julie at 59 is close. We both work hard to stay in shape so our age seems to be of little consequence. We discovered however that age is always hiding in the background, never enough time, often not enough energy.

As we discussed writing projects I talked to Julie about how I would like to bring race into my stories. Julie is white and I am black. I met a man, a white man, who I felt used me for sex, in some part at least, because of my race and I want to write incorporating some aspects of interracial sex. I needed her coaching and advice.

The reader may find it interesting to know that both of us start otherwise fictional stories from a real life event. We weave our experiences into every story. In my younger years, as an insecure, rather submissive, woman I feel that both men and women used those vulnerabilities to make me do things and submit to aspects of sex I would never consider today and I want to write about being a black woman used by others for sex.

Over time, as Julie and I talked it became clear to me that what I was searching for was indeed what Julie had at one time. A man to love me and share my life and a loving woman to share him with. There was never a discussion or perhaps even a thought by either of us that we each might be the woman the other was looking for.

While, unknown by me at the time, Julie was feeling the weight of the Chicago winter I was feeling cabin fever myself in the South and I temporarily moved to my North Carolina beach cabin to write. The move was simple. As I explained I owned the cabin that is normally rented but was sitting empty. The weather was better, and the ocean was a friend. The beach cabin was a quiet, warm, place to read and write.

I packed all I needed and drove to North Carolina. I had called the real estate company and they agreed to have their new caretaker meet me when I arrived.

About 50 miles out I called them again and we set a meeting time. When I arrived there was an old Ford pickup truck parked in one of the cabins two parking spaces. I drove into and parked in the other space. As I opened my car door an older very handsome black gentleman stepped out of the pickup truck. He came over extended his hand and said: "Hello, my name is Jonathan, call me Jonny, you must be Miss Green."

I said: "Hello, Jonathan, nice to meet you."

His hand was warm and very large but gentle as it enveloped my hand. His face was kind and smiling. I liked this man already.

He said: "Yes ma'am let me help you with your luggage."

Ma'am? A southern gentleman? I liked him more every minute. Without another word he took my bags into the cabin and began to show me around. He clearly had not been told I was the owner. I listened and he told me everything one would need to know to have a great week or two at the beach. He had a nice warm reassuring tone to his voice.

I did, after a short time, tell him I owned the cabin and came for a month every year. I complemented him on a job well done and we talked for a while. Jonathan had retired to his house nearby in the village after his wife passed and took the job of caretaker, only a few months ago, to keep busy. As he was leaving he gave me a card with his name and a telephone number. He told me if I needed anything I should just call him.

I said: "Thank you Jonathan. I will."

Jonathan replied: "Ok, but you can call me Johnny."

I smiled and said: "No, if you don't mind I prefer Jonathan."

He smiled back at me and said: "Truth is, I'd like that, my wife always called me Jonathan."

He looked at me with that smile in his eyes and asked: "May I call you Robin?"

I returned his smile and said: "Yes, I would very much like that."

He was gone and I unpacked and lit a fire. I glanced at his card as I put it on the kitchen counter. It read Jonathan "Johnny" Green and included his number. My first thought was, if I married this man I would not even have to change my last name. I smiled, put the card down and never gave it another thought.

Jonathan...

I drove away from the cottage feeling almost happy for the first time in the two years since my wife died. When Robin had emerged from her car I felt a stirring deep inside that had lain dormant for too long. She was the most striking woman I had seen in years. Not just beautiful, she was also commanding in a very natural, non-aggressive way. Her hand felt small but very warm in my hand and I'm ashamed to say I couldn't stop my eyes from trailing down her mature body, lingering on the thrust of her breasts and the lovely curve of her hips and bottom.

I shook myself as I drove. Get a hold of yourself Jonathan! That poor woman didn't want you ogling her like some sex-starved teenager! She's no doubt a perfectly respectable older woman who does not want you violating her with your dirty mind.

But the truth was, at that moment, I did feel like a sex-starved teenager. At 65, I should be putting that sort of thing behind me. In fact, after my wife's death I thought I had. Her death had come so suddenly - barely three weeks after diagnosis with an aggressive brain tumor - that I was still trying to process it. On the one hand it was a mercy that it had been so quick - but on the other, I'd had no time to really prepare myself for her passing. It left me dazed and it seemed I was only now emerging from a long dark winter of grief.

So the reaction to meeting Robin was a surprise. I thought again of her lovely eyes and sensuous mouth - and the way her large breasts moved as she walked around the cabin. I felt myself beginning to harden in my pants and reached a hand down to squeeze myself. I missed sex with my wife so much - we'd had a very sensual marriage, especially after the kids had grown and moved away. She seemed to get a second sexual wind that more closely matched the sexual tornado that was always raging in my body. She'd become less inhibited too and the last few years before her sudden death had seen us sharing fantasies and sexual kinks that neither of us had admitted to wanting in the earlier years of our marriage.

Since her death I'd repressed those sexual urges - feeling as though it was a betrayal of her memory. But right now I was having a real battle to repress anything.

I parked my truck in the driveway and went into the house. I couldn't settle and paced about trying to rid my mind of thoughts of Robin Green. But it was no use and I felt a real gratitude to her as I shed my clothes and took my straining cock into the shower. The water streamed down on me and I used the soap to wash my body, feeling a little smug about the hard muscles I'd managed to rebuild by relentless gym workouts since my wife's death. But when my hand closed on my erection I couldn't resist any longer. I began to stroke it with intent. And as I did I imagined myself peeling the clothes from Robin Green's body, exposing her breasts, her stomach, her hips, that beautifully sculpted ass and finally the delta of Venus between her thighs. I imagined she was here in the shower with me, gloriously naked and wanting me. I moaned out loud as I came, jetting my thick cum through the shower spray and onto the tiles, and wishing I was pumping my jizz deep inside Robin's velvet cunt.

Robin...

I was home. In one of our e-mail exchanges I casually told Julie I had moved. It actually meant little to either of us as all of our communication was electronic. Remember, we had never actually met or spoken.

Only a day or two later I found a reason to call Jonathan. I called him and asked if he knew of a handyman who could build some closet shelves for me. He told he could do that himself and we set a time to meet and go over the job that afternoon. When he arrived we went over what I had in mind, agreed on a price as we relaxed on my deck overlooking the ocean.

Jonathan was suddenly full of questions. Was I married? Did I have children? Where did I live the rest of the year? Was I retired? Where did I grow up? He was working around the edges so I told him all he wanted to know.

I don't know why but I wanted a clean slate with him. I told him I had Business and Computer Sciences degrees, started, grew and sold a business and retired. I told him I was married for a short while a long time ago but it ended badly and I never remarried.

I was as clear as I could be that there were both men and women in my life both socially and sexually. I told him that for several years I lived with but was not married to, the love of my life, a woman named Beth who died a few years ago. I told Jonathan I never had children because I could not physically have children not because I didn't want them.

He had one question: "I'm uncomfortable asking this but, are you a lesbian?"

I told him: "No Jonathan I am not. Let me explain. I am bisexual. I am sexually attracted to both men and women. I have had both men and woman lovers in my life over the years. Right now there is only a woman in my life who I see only infrequently because she is married and her husband does not know she is bisexual. I am not promiscuous. I was years ago but now I am faithful to the the one I am with. I'm just lucky to be able to have one of each."

He thought for a long moment and and just said: "Thank you for that explanation. It was not necessary. I don't judge. You're fine as you are."

I stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and told him: "Yes it was necessary because I think you are very handsome and sexy, and if you asked me to dinner I would say yes."

When I finished he laughed a little, smiled, looked at me and said: "Me sexy?, Dinner?"

I said: "Yes and Yes, I'd love that."

We both then laughed.

We did go to dinner that very evening. The man was not only handsome, he was intelligent, well read and a great conversationalist. Was I smitten? Yes. Did we kiss, and only kiss, goodnight? Yes soft, gentle and warm. Oh and by the way, he smelled great.

Two days later he returned to start the project. I had moved most of my things out of the way leaving only one roll-a-board and the laundry hamper in the closet.

He worked half a day. I made lunch and we ate on the deck and he went back to work. In mid-afternoon I went into the room to check on him and found him holding my panties he had removed from the laundry hamper. He froze. I froze. I left the room.

Jonathan...

I was thrilled to get Robin's call asking for advice on her closet shelving. I'd been looking for an opportunity to contact her again because she'd hardly been out of my mind since we met at the holiday cabin that had turned out to be her property.

I was also very ready to offer my services as handyman. But when we met to discuss the project I was still feeling slightly guilty about ogling her and making her the object of my masturbatory fantasies - which had occurred twice more since that first tug in the shower.

But that guilt disappeared during the conversation we had while sitting on her deck and watching the hypnotic rhythm of the sea. She was so open about her life - and her sexuality - that I began to realize she probably wouldn't mind my erotic interest in her - and might even welcome it. But I didn't want to get ahead of myself. I did need clarification on whether she was actually lesbian and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she disclosed her bi-sexuality.

Dinner that night was equally enjoyable. i found myself opening up about myself for the first time in years. I answered her questions as honestly as I could. Though, probably through delicacy on her part, we avoided the topic of my wife. I found myself more and more drawn to Robin - not just sexually but as an intelligent, accomplished woman - at one point it even struck me that if we ever married she wouldn't even have to change her name.

Our kiss goodbye that evening only heightened my desire for her. Her lips were so soft and full. The taste of her lipstick - and the fleeting feel of her tongue made me so hard I had to beat a hasty retreat before she noticed.

The shelving was really no problem at all. It took me a day to source the pre-cut laminated shelving that was the right size and the brackets that would support them. So it was a couple of days after our dinner date that I got back to Robin's to do the installation.

She greeted me warmly and I got right down to work- finding the wall studs, marking the shelf lines and beginning to drill the bracket holes. She made me pause for lunch but I got right back to it after a bite to eat.

While Robin was clearing away the lunch things I became quite conscious of being alone in her space. She had virtually stripped out the closet but the scent of her perfume was still in the air and then I noticed the laundry hamper just inside the closet door. It was half full with her soiled clothing and right on the top was a selection of her underwear - a bra and two pairs of panties. I don't know exactly why but seeing her most intimate garments gave me an erotic charge.