One Weekend Stand Ch. 04

At times over the past years, she'd felt like she was acting a part in a play. The timid girl. The seductress. The obedient wife. She'd known she was acting, but still it had felt normal to take those parts and run with them. Now, though, she had the opportunity to try on even more parts, to run with them and let them take over her body, let them direct her actions without a care to the consequences. She could be whoever she wanted to be and discard that role whenever it ceased to amuse her. Like the times she dressed up in stylish clothes to go to fancy restaurants, feigning an accent with the wait staff, this weekend had freed her to play a great game of 'Let's Pretend.'

There was more to it than just their circumstances, of course. It was this place, as well. A cabin, in the middle of nowhere. Built specifically for sex. That much was clear. One room encompassing all the human needs. Food. Shelter. Sleep. Procreation. Or, to be more specific, recreational sex. Explorational sex. Dominational sex.

She couldn't believe that she'd missed the signs. That it had taken her that long to figure it out. A big screen TV with loads of porn for it? Sure, most couples might engage in that behavior, whilst on a tryst away from the city. Even a locker filled with exotic sex toys might be common in, say, twenty percent of the cabins up here. But the other lockers, with their wide variety of sexual implements? A sex swing, with hooks built right into the ceiling joists? Dog collars and dishes with no signs of a dog? Scratches on the brass bedposts that indicated that something metal, like handcuffs, had been attached to the posts, not once, but many times? And the cryptic note, with its hints at situations yet unveiled? This was a sex cabin, built to feed one's darkest desires, and she'd just spread her legs and added her story to its sordid history. And she wasn't the least bit ashamed.

In fact, she was more than a little bit intrigued. She thought she'd seen everything in the sex tapes her husband made her watch, but now she knew that he might be just a little prosaic in his interests. That would make sense of course, given his upbringing. What she'd just done, on that swing, didn't appear in any of the discs he had. The blond woman she'd seen getting gangbanged by two black bucks definitely wasn't in his porn library, either. Hardly. Though the sight of it hadn't quite turned her stomach as much as her husband might've thought. Not quite a turn on, but mesmerizing nonetheless.

She craned her head and looked over at the dildos still strewn across the bed. She was familiar with them, as her husband had bought some for her to use on herself, while he watched. A strange little kink, but harmless, and she played the part well, with lots of moaning and groaning and twisting and turning. It wasn't hard to bring herself off with a vibrating toy. Good thing he couldn't look into her mind and see what she was imagining when she did it!

There was more adventure locked up in this cabin, that was for sure. Two more lockers to open. More cryptic instructions in that note to decipher. And next to her, the man who had the key to some of those mysteries. She could figure it out on her own. And part of her wanted to get up and do just that. But the other part was already kindling the anticipation. If you wait, it told her, he will lead you there. And you'll be able to take on another new role, the victim, the slave, the slut begging for more cock, or something even more unbelievable. And that wouldn't be so bad at all, now would it?

Her breast was warm in his palm. Her body pressed back against the length of his, from her cute toes right up to her head. He kept his face upturned, as her light hair had a tendency to tickle him. She was thinking. He could tell by the tension in her body. By the way her foot absently tapped against the sheets. By the way her ass shivered against his flaccid cock. She was thinking deeply. And in his experience, that meant she was going to make a decision.

Maybe it was the mix of endorphins and hormones. Or the blissful exhaustion that followed an orgasm. Or simply that women rarely had a quiet time to themselves. But whatever the reason, right after sex was the time that women always decided things. Worse, it was also a time when they remembered every single word of a conversation. That's why it was always important for a man to guard what he said in the cuddling time after sex. And why he should never, ever, ever drowse or, god forbid, fall asleep. Because he could find himself agreeing to things that no sane man would ever want. Like kids. Or a new dog. Or painting the family room ochre.

The woman in his arms probably wasn't thinking about any of those things, of course. Well, maybe the new dog. But probably something that had to do with why they were here together, or what they had done together, or what they might still do together. All of which frightened him just a bit, because as much as he knew about her, he didn't really know all that much about her. She was a woman, after all, and a woman's decisions were usually far more nuanced than men could hope to interpret. And trying to understand all the shades of her decision was just the kind of thing that could drive him crazy for many moons to come. That was his personality. He liked both people to have a similar understanding.

He struggled to keep his mind from wandering, but in truth he was pretty exhausted. Most women didn't appreciate how much work it was to make love. Balancing in a decidedly odd position for several minutes at a time. Thrusting fifty or sixty times a minute with all your strength. Holding back against something your body very much wanted to let loose. And leaving behind as much protein as in a good-sized steak dinner. He'd read that a good ten minute lovemaking session was the equivalent of doing 500 push ups, military style. Sure, he didn't doubt that it was painful for a woman to keep her legs up that long. But other than that, she didn't do hardly anything. A little wriggling. Sometimes meeting him halfway. It was a decidedly unequal balance.

So he drowsily cautioned himself against speculating too much. That she was still here, snuggled against him, was reason enough to infer that she wasn't having second thoughts. That she was acting so uncharacteristically, well, sluttish, was cause for a little more concern, but he didn't really mind. Besides, how did he know what was characteristic for her? Maybe she was a little hellion in bed and she'd just never shared that with him. But whether he was the cause of her wanton abandon or not, he liked it and wasn't about to question it. Case closed.

As if she'd heard the case close in his mind, she stirred and sat up, then made to leave the bed. If he hadn't grabbed her wrist, she would've escaped completely. "Gotta pay the toll," he said, and was rewarded with a warm, rich kiss. He watched with hooded eyes as she padded away, once more appreciating the tantalizing sway of her hips and ass. She started shuffling through her overnight bag, and he smiled to himself. She'd be looking for her phone to see what time it was. And see if she'd miraculously gotten any calls in the last few hours. "What time is it?" he called, his smile apparent in his voice. "Two eleven," she said, not turning around to face him. That was OK. Her neck had flushed red, showing that he'd scored a point. He knew something about her.

To be continued...