The Cabin

"You fuckin' little bitch," Julie angrily exclaimed as she suddenly stood up and faced me. "You spend your entire day "chatting" intimately with these people? What the fuck else have you been up to?"

That outburst had come out of nowhere and I was quite taken aback by it as I stared at Julie in disbelief. We were having a nice evening on the couch, I had just been showing her some of my PMs I had been having from Literotica, some of them rather risqué, and specifically between me and a gentleman there. Julie and I never had any secrets from each other and she was quite aware of my doings on Lit. I rarely volunteered to show her my PM activities, I did not have anything to hide, but when she sometimes asked about them, I would always show her. We would have a lot of fun browsing through the eye candy of the various threads, sometimes while playing with each other, and got a kick out of the PM's I read to her between me and some of my girlfriends there. Especially some of the heavy, lustier PMs. Often many of the threads and PMs gave us some fun ideas to take into the bedroom with us.

We both had come home from work, ate a nice dinner, and other than an unusual dour mood from Julie when she got home, everything seemed to be fine.

"Julie, Sweetie, what are you talking about?" I asked with a slight frown and a half shrug. "I don't spend my entire day chatting on Lit, you know that, and you've seen everything. I'm not hiding anything from you."

"How many people have you been intimate with, and for how long?" she asked bluntly. "Especially this Steve guy, he's telling you some very personal things to do and you go ahead and do it for him. Who else are you doing this with?"

"Julie..." I started, trying to remain calm.

"How many others?" she demanded, glaring at me

Julie and I had developed a policy ever since she moved in, any question could be asked, and all questions had to be answered. And truthfully. Neither one of us kept secrets from the other. That policy led to some difficult times and caused many cry sessions, but it helped unload a lot of emotional baggage for both of us from previous relationships and we grew to know each other very well. It brought us so much closer together and the bond between us much stronger.

The tone in Julie's voice and the direction this conversation was going told me my answer would not be received well, but I had to answer her, and I would not lie to her.

"Sweetie, a couple others..." I started.

"Fuck, really?" Julie angrily spewed out. "You spend your day fucking with these people, you fuckin' little slut!"

I stared in hurt shock at Julie, my mouth open in a O as I sucked my breath in. That word stung deeply and felt like a knife had been thrust into my heart. The one word I never allowed anyone to call me, the word I hated with such vitriol, ever since I was relentlessly teased by those bitches in grade school.

One day as an adult, a guy at work had called me a slut. We were friends and he said it in a joking way, and I knew it was lighthearted. Crude and uncalled for perhaps, but lighthearted, as it were, considering our office atmosphere.

I approached him with balled fists and was just inches from his face, "You ever call me that again and you'll be on the floor with a black eye. You stand up before I leave the room and you'll be on the floor again with another black eye." The look on his face said that he knew I was not bluffing.

Three older brothers picking on me through childhood taught me to fight back at a younger age and my father did his best to show me how to protect myself. I learned not to take any shit from anybody. However, that little comment had been overheard and cost both of us a trip to HR, even though he had already apologized. The rest of the guys in the office treated me with respect and, I think, a little admiration after that.

Julie spun on her heel and marched down the hall as tears stung my eyes. I sat motionless on the couch in shock and disbelief that my sweet girl had just called me a slut. Ever since Julie moved in, we'd had a wonderful life together and we were having such a good evening. Where in God's name did all that come from? She tolerated my activities on Lit, knowing I obeyed her wishes to never play outside. No emails, telephone numbers, or third-party app texting. Certainly, no picture swapping and any play activity was to remain inside Lit. It's all innocent flirting and fun and she knows that. I had asked her many times in the past if she was okay with it and she always assured me that she was.

I heard the bedroom door slam from down the hall, realizing it was not our bedroom, but the second bedroom, or her room as we called it. Julie had moved into my two-bedroom apartment several months ago in early summer, and we had decided to keep our relationship to ourselves and not tell anyone, even close friends or family. My closet was full and even though she moved all her stuff into the second bedroom of the apartment, we always slept in my bed.

I crept down the hall to "her" room and quietly knocked on the door.

"Julie."

I received no answer and could hear crying inside the room. I gently tried the doorknob and eased the door open.

"Get the fuck out!" I heard and jumped as something heavy hit the door.

"Julie," I pleaded through the closed door. I received no answer other than crying.

"

Good God, what the hell is going on?

" I thought. "

This is so not like her; I've never seen Julie like this. What did I do and why was she suddenly so upset?

"

"Julie, please," I tried one more time. Silence was all I heard.

I went back into the living room, still stinging from her name calling. "

She couldn't have meant it,

" I tried to tell myself, as I sat on the couch and hugged my knees close to me.

"

We have had disagreements before, but we've always gotten along and have never fought. We have grown so close, and we both know each other so well. Something must have happened at work. She seemed in such a different mood when she got home, I wish now I had said something and asked her, got her to talk about it,

" I thought regretfully as I sniffed, and wiped my eyes.

Perhaps I was getting a little free with my time on Literotica. It is very erotic for me to be instructed at what to do sexually and my naughty adventures in the office seemed to have escalated my freedom to do as I please regarding PMs from other users, especially guys. Technically I was not violating any of Julie's conditions, but maybe I had taken it too far and need to tone it down. Maybe I need to leave Literotica too, for the sake of our relationship.

Whatever happened, Julie is going to need some time. I did not want to ignore her, something is very wrong, but sometimes it's best to leave a person to their thoughts and let them make their own way through their problems. She knows I am here when she is ready to talk.

Still, the sting of my sweet lover calling me a slut hurt me deeply and followed me through the night and into the morning.

= = = = = = = = = =

I awoke to an empty bed. Julie must have slept in her room, the first time ever since she moved in. Guess I couldn't blame her, considering whatever that upset her. I know we will talk about it, probably not this morning, but surely tonight when we both get home from work. I got out of bed to find her bedroom door open and her room empty as well as the rest of the apartment. She had gotten up early and left, gone to work without saying goodbye. That had never happened before either and a dark feeling crept over me in the silence of the apartment.

I sat at the dining table in my nightshirt trying to fathom what had happened and what was going on. Julie didn't even make coffee this morning. Something serious had occurred with her and it gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Somehow, I had offended her, to a point that she did not want to be around me, and an ill thought laced my mind that I just couldn't let get hold of me.

Julie wanted to leave.

I went through my morning routine in a daze, not knowing what was happening in our relationship. I checked my phone several times for a text from Julie but had received nothing.

It was a bitter drive into work. The winter had grown colder over the past few days, we had several inches of snow fall last night that I had to brush off my car and it made navigating through the snowy roads a challenge. The mood from my lover/roommate only seemed to make the drive colder. Once I got into the office and got settled in, I texted her.

[Little One, whatever happened I'm

sorry. I don't know what I did to

offend you and I want to talk about

it. I want to make this right.]

My morning at work went by with no answer from her. That really bothered me, and the bad feeling in my gut grew worse as the day went by. Perhaps I was over thinking this, I know it's a habit I have, but the feeling just wouldn't go away. At lunch I texted her again.

[Sweetie, are you okay? Can we at

least talk?]

I received nothing from her, my texts were not even being read. I was torn between being angry with Julie for being so childish about this and concern that something serious was developing.

The rest of my day was torturous; not knowing what Julie was going through, not being able to help her, and being kept in the dark about it. Quitting time finally came, I wound my way over the dark, snowy roads with trepidation, not knowing what to expect when I got home. At least Julie had the day to think through her problem and I was sure once we got home, we would sit down and talk about whatever was bothering her. The concern I had was the direction that talk might take us.

I pulled into the snow-covered parking lot for our apartment complex to find Julie's car was already there. Julie never came home before I did; she had gotten off work early and came straight home. That sent a chill down my spine, the feeling in my stomach moved into my chest and my heart began to ache. Why was she home early?

"

Oh God, please let everything be okay

," I thought to myself as I walked through the parking lot and stamped snow off my boots once I was inside the apartment building. "

Please don't go, please don't go

," I prayed as I climbed the stairs with apprehension. "

Surely, whatever I did wrong can be made right

." I had no idea what was going on or what was going through Julie's mind, and I half expected her to be packing a bag when I walked into the apartment.

Instead, Julie was sitting at the dining table still in her work clothes and had been there for some time crying. As I walked through the door, Julie stood up, ran to me, and threw her arms around my neck.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Julie's arms were tightly wrapped around me as if she were trapping me there so I could not go anywhere, and I staggered to keep upright. She cried inconsolably, apologizing over and over, squeezing her arms, and burying her face in my neck, almost choking me. I held her as I kicked the door shut and caressed her, relief flooding through me but more confused than ever before.

"I'm so ashamed, please forgive me," she cried into my neck. "I sorry I called you that and I'm sorry about the way I behaved. It was childish and uncalled for. Please forgive me, please."

I pried Julie's arms from around my neck and led her to the kitchen table, took off my coat and let it and my purse dump on the floor.

"Julie, what's going on?" I asked as we sat down, and I dried her tears.

Julie stared at the table, a slight tremble in her lip, and I waited as she gathered her thoughts.

"I had a bad day at work yesterday," she finally confessed, shaking her head, and looking up at me with tear filled eyes. "I know, it's no excuse, but you know how they treat me there. Something in your play on Lit while you were at work hit me and I lost it. In mean, I just freakin' lost it. I took it out on you and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, please forgive me," she cried grasping my hands and looking at me through anguished eyes.

"I forgive you, Little One," I said gently, kissing her forehead and putting my hand on top of hers as she put her head down. "I've asked many times, but you've always been okay with me being on Lit, right?" I asked, putting the crook of my finger under her chin, lifting her head and combing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

"Yes," she replied, looking up at me with a sniff, nodding in an unconvincing way.

"Sweetie, so what changed? Are you still okay with what I do on Lit?" I asked again. "Are you? If you're not, please say so."

"Yes, I am," Julie said after a moment, but she would not look me in the eye and the hesitation in her voice told me something else was there.

"Really?" I pressed.

"Come on, really?" I said, shaking her hand after hearing nothing.

"Well," Julie began to confess. "The intimacy between you and those guys bothers me."

"Dammit, Sweetie, why didn't you say something?" I asked, as I sat up straight.

"Because I know you enjoy it and you have so much fun with it," Julie tried to reason.

Okay, I realized, this is where it's all coming from. Julie hates her job, the crew treats her poorly, and they are always shitting on her. Leaving early when there's work to be done and Julie being the responsible girl cannot let it sit there so she takes care of it and cleans up after them. Let them shit on you once, and they will always shit on you.

And here I am at a job that I enjoy and having fun on top of that. In a way I almost felt like I had been rubbing it in her face all this time.

"Okay Sweetie, I'll stop," I told her. "In fact, I'll cancel my account there if that would make you feel better."

"No, please," Julie said sniffing, raising my hand and kissing it. "I enjoy it when you read your PMs and going through the sexy threads with you, especially Liz. Honestly, it's just the intimacy with the guys that bothers me."

"Okay, no more," I promised. "Chats okay, but they don't go with me when I play, alright?"

Julie nodded and we talked more about it until I was sure we both were on the same page. I was serious about canceling my account with Lit and told her so. I would not want to, but I would never do anything to drive any kind of wedge between us and Julie assured me everything else was acceptable. Still, there was her work issue.

We talked about it as I made dinner. There was little chance of advancement for her, which did not matter anyway because it was not a line of work Julie wanted to stay in. College would give her a good career change, but it was at least four dedicated years, expensive, and we did not want to go into debt. Scholarships were available, but we had no idea what kind, what requirements there were, or for how much. Julie had always liked the idea of nursing and thought many times about it, but she admitted her biology skills were just not there and she hated needles. Something had to be done to get her a job she would be happy with.

Julie felt horrible about her behavior from today and the night before. The look in her eyes told me the remorse she was feeling.

"I can't believe I threw a shoe at you. I'll never forget the look on your face when I called you a slut," Julie had confessed in a small voice as she hugged me and buried her face in my neck, kissing me. "I will remember that look for the rest of my life."

Perhaps that was punishment enough, though all evening long she kept touching me, almost to verify I was still there and had not gone anywhere or left. She also kept giving me small hugs and sweet little kisses which, to be honest, I didn't mind.

I took my evening shower, went to bed, and browsed online through the university website looking at courses and scholarships while Julie took her shower. There was a lot available, all of it depending on what Julie wanted to do with her life. Still, a four-year degree was quite the commitment for us.

I heard the shower turn off and a short time later Julie came in the bedroom wearing her short bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her hair, her tan skin still glowing from the hot shower.

"Feeling better," I asked with a loving smile.

Julie nodded, smiling sheepishly as she reached for a bottle of shea butter and sandalwood lotion.

The light in the bedroom was low, just lit by the small lamp on the nightstand. Julie took her bathrobe off, hung it on the door, and stood naked, wearing only a towel around her hair, and began putting lotion on. Sandalwood is my favorite; I love how the sweet, creamy, woody scent smells and how it reacts with her own cinnamonny scent, and I love the way her little tits jiggle as she rubs the lotion in all over her luscious little body. Julie put more on her small boobs, her so-called little secret to making her breasts so soft, and I noticed how she gave each nipple a little pinch as she rubbed the lotion over them. Her little boobs looked very sexy glistening in the low light, pushed up as she rubbed the lotion in, her tiny nipples hard between her fingers.

Julie took the towel off her head and rubbed her hair, almost black in the dim light, combing out the knots with her fingers before brushing, which made her little tits jiggle more. She noticed me smiling at her and smiled back shyly, giggling through her nose, as she stood naked and brushed her beautiful, straight, dark brown hair.

Julie walked naked to the bathroom to hang the towel and her robe, came back into the bedroom and put a nightgown on. She stopped to do a little primp in the mirror before coming to bed, then pulled the covers back and climbed in next to me, nestled close, so warm and smelling sweet and woody. I love that scent on her, it always makes me tingle.

I put my phone on the nightstand, turned the light off, and we cuddled under the covers in the dark. There was no need for further apologies, but I could still feel it in her as we held each other. I kissed Julie on her forehead, and she tilted her head up to meet my lips. We kissed, gently, sweetly, and caressed each other. Often when we went to bed during the weekday, we might give each other a little good night loving, but not tonight. All we wanted, and needed, was just the love and comfort of holding each other.

= = = = = = = = = =

I was still a little shook up by our experience when I went to work the next morning. It felt like we had come so close to a breakup.

Just before lunch, Sara, my oldest brother's girlfriend, called me up out of the blue to chat with me. She and I had grown close over the years and she had become my confidante; she had been very instrumental in helping me deal with my breakup with my ex. She's a intuitive person, very observant, and knows me very well. Somehow, she could tell by my voice that something was bothering me.

"Okay, what happened," Sara asked after a bit. "Surely, you're not having a relapse from Dipshit, are you?"

"No, no, of course not," I replied with a sigh. "Julie and I had a fight the night before, a big one."

"Oh no! You two are such sweethearts together," she exclaimed. "Is everything okay?"

I was astonished by that and tried to read into her comment. What did she mean? Julie and I had told no one about our relationship, but Sara made it sound like we'd had a lover's spat. Which we did, but she should not have known that. Publicly, Julie and I tried to come across to everybody as just friends, that meant no holding hands or public displays of affection. That was often hard to go without and was one of the things I really missed about a hetero relationship. Maybe I was over thinking again, but Sara was very perceptive and had seen us together many times.