I will return to some of the other stories that I've partially completed. This was something that flowed today. I hope you enjoy.
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*****
We'd arrived.
It was my birthday present. With a spring littered with health problems and other relatives' birthdays, Isabelle and I had decided to celebrate mine a little later in the summer.
We've got enough stuff.
Stuff. Lots of Stuff; big stuff; little stuff; our house is littered with stuff. Isabelle and I had decided a few years ago that rather than contribute to the stuff pile, we would give each other the gift of experiences.
This year she had purchased a stay in a tree house for me. If you've read some of our other stories, you know that I am the perpetual 13 year old boy. This gift was AWESOME!
The tree house overlooked a babbling river. It would provide a soothing backdrop of sound for the duration of our stay. You had to climb a ladder to get into the house, but a block and tackle connected to a basket allowed you to pull up your luggage and supplies.
After loading some supplies, Isabelle's suitcase, my bag and the sex toy suitcase into the basket I scampered up the ladder to haul our necessities up to the platform that encircled the house.
Once lifted, you could lock off the rope, open a small gate and pull your items in. Isabelle made her way up the ladder to landing and asked:
"What do you think?"
I told her I was over the moon happy. This was the neatest gift I had ever received. We looked around, it slept 6, but you had to be a friendly 6. It would be comfortable for just the 2 of us. We took a self guided tour, The bathroom was a modest affair, the commode was flushable, that had become the baseline for us staying anywhere. I noticed that the bathroom seemed to be missing a shower. I asked Isabelle if she was aware when she booked.
"Yes, let's finish the tour."
This disappointed me. After a day without air conditioning in the humidity, I became a ripe guy. I wouldn't even sleep with me.
The kitchenette would serve, a hot plate, a couple of pans and the use of a barbecue outside. Did I mention: A FREAKIN TREEHOUSE!
The sitting room, had a pull out, a TV and a DVD player. open windows overlooked the river and let in a cool breeze and the sound of water on the rocks.
As I looked at the center support post, I imagined Isabelle tied to it. It was to be an interesting stay.
A ladder in the center of the house that allowed you to climb into the bedroom. To come down you could take the ladder or there was a brass pole that went through a second hole.
The entire place had a decor similar to our houses and bedrooms when we where kids in the 70's but more so. If you had it in your house in the 70's it was in this tree house. Farah Fawcett Poster - check, Duke's of Hazard General Lee Poster - check, Charlie's angel posters - check, ashtrays of various types glass - Check, Lighters with logos - check. It was all here. We walked down memory lane - to the decorating disaster that was the 70's.
Isabelle invited me to go out onto the balcony. As we walked out from the bedroom she pointed out the shower. It was an outdoor shower mounted to our tree. A giant rain shower head would pour warm water down on you.
"You are becoming a nudist!" I said.
Isabelle laughed and said she'd asked if the shower was private and the proprietor provided plenty of reassurance.
It was 2:00 PM, the proprietor said he would be by between 4 and 5 to welcome us and collect the rest of the cost of the stay.
"Let's try it out, Isabelle."
With that I ran in grabbed our soap and shampoo and she started the water. We stripped down and got into the warm stream of water. I looked at my Isabelle; her beautiful white skin gleamed in the sunshine. Her big blue eyes melted for me as we kissed and I moved her thick mane of reddish brown hair under the water. With Isabelle's head under the water, I soaked her mane through and through. I washed and rinsed her hair then applied conditioner. As the conditioner soaked I took the soap and began to scrub her body.
"You know, if men were in charge of washing women's breasts they'd shine."
An old joke Isabelle used to remind me that there were other parts of her body that needed washing too. I scrubbed her shoulders and her strong back. I then scrubbed her pubic mound and legs; finally her rounded bottom came under my careful ministrations.
After I had spent enough time to make Isabelle all sparkly clean, it was her turn to wash me. She started at my bald head, I'd shaved it for years, and washed my scalp. Isabelle slowly worked down my body doing my back, and my chest, my armpits. She got to my cock and spent extra time there. I soon got hard, and she giggled at my predicament.
As she rinsed me off, she got down on her knees and looked up at me.
"Happy Birthday Master."
My cock disappeared into her mouth. On the first stroke she got about half of it into her mouth. As she withdrew her tongue swirled around the head and flicked over the opening. I swore like a trooper.
"Fuck, oh Fuck, that's so..."
My hips were thrusting but her mouth reacting to my thrusts. She continued to tease the tip, riding my thrusts, not allowing any more of my cock into her mouth. I'd had enough of the teasing. I took her head and thrust slowly. I pushed further and further. I pushed until I felt her throat relax and let my cock in.
After a few moments of exquisite agony, with the love of my life on her knees in front of me while the river ran down below and the water from a warm shower washed over us, I pulled her up and held her and kissed her.
"You belong to me baby girl; this is the best birthday present ever."
"I love you Alex."
