"Lovely. Look forward to it. Now go back to sleep."
Linda was busier than ever now, analyzing chart patterns and test readings from the first two months. The memory of that evening with Cole faded a little with the days and because of the pleasant wine fog she'd been in. Still, Linda kept thinking about him. Their friendship had been very natural, and he'd hardly done or said a thing to irritate her, something that was definitely out of the ordinary. Most men did bunches of things to irritate her.
She thought about dropping by to say "Hello" herself, but never seemed to think of it at the right time. Come Saturday night, bath night, she felt like a school girl out of control. She actually made her bed with real sheets and quilts, put on real pajamas instead of long underwear, and dabbed a little perfume on before crawling into bed. Beneath the covers, she gave in to the inevitable. Breathlessly, slowly, she began to touch and caress herself, acting as her own lover. The pajama top which had been buttoned only minutes before, now was opened one button at a time. Linda gave herself fingertip caresses above her breasts, up and down her neck and down her sides. Her fingers insinuated themselves in her hair, twisting lightly and massaging the scalp.
Up...down....up. The fingertips of one hand, then two, trailed down into the valley between her awakening breasts and stroked lightly. Linda's hands cupped her heaving breasts from below lightly, lifting, squeezing ever so softly, then drifting higher where her budding nipples fell naturally between thumb and forefinger. She stretched to the end of her toes and sighed deeply. Not having even thought about sex--let alone masturbate--for weeks made her more than ready. Pulsing sensations and a growing warmth in the core of her sexual being accompanied her gentle touches.
Quiet little sighs escaped her lips. Her breasts seemed to lift on their own to meet the next touch of her nipples. Her body undulated like a wave in slow motion. And as great as it felt, it was going to get better. Linda's hand dropped lower, caressing her stomach. A second hand joined the first, making long strokes from the top of her pajama bottom up across her stomach and breast to her neck, then back down...slowly...the way it came.
Minutes passed while Linda prolonged the delicious exercise. She imagined a lover behind her cupping her breasts; kissing her neck and ears, letting his hands slide slowly into her pajamas. Almost as if in a trance, she untied the drawstring waist to give him free access, then pushed her breasts upward in greeting. He was almost there...and he almost looked like....Cole. He definitely looked like Cole!
But it was someone else. A lover no one knew, and now his fingertips were working there way into her pubic hair, pulling delicately, curling hairs lightly, lightly, lightly around his fingers. Both hands caressed her, and five fingers from each hand felt every millimeter of the soft, swelling mound. Linda arched her back and spread her legs to give this special man more room to touch her; more room to give her pleasure. She lifted her rear to slide the bottom half of her pajamas down, but of course it was his hands that actually did it, his fingers that tickled her pubic hair as they unbuttoned each button.
It was almost too much to bear. Linda groaned as fingers began gently massaging the sides of her vaginal lips, slowly, firmly, up and down, down and up, never actually touching her labia or clitoris, but teasing the area around them. She was getting wetter by the minute, now, wetter with each stroke of his hand along her sex. And when she started to feel the first stages of a warm rhythmic pulsing the hands moved lower to caress her sensitive inner thighs. They were his hands, too. With eyes closed and body alternately breathing deeply and not breathing at all, Linda raised her body to allow those loving hands to embrace her more easily, to give her more pleasure.
And they did. With a few more strokes of her inner thighs the hands moved up again to massage her tingling mound. A fingertip parted her pubic hair and stroked the length of her pink and parted lips. Linda moaned and sighed and lifted herself to get closer to this pleasuring hand, but it moved higher, too. A second hand joined the first, massaging her venus delicately but firmly.
One finger on each side stroked the area around her clitoris causing more sighs and moans, then one finger, a long middle finger, slowly entered her warm and willing vagina while it's partners danced around her most sensitive opening and the thumb zeroed in on Linda's pulsing clitoris. Around and around it went, happily circling and teasing the little pink bud that had now become the center of Linda's universe. Linda was more than wet, more than willing to give in to the slippery sensations that were making her stomach rise and falldocudelight. Around and around, and OH! it felt so good.
The thumb retreated, only to be replaced by two fingers now. The index fingers of each divine hand pressed rhythmically on each side of her throbbing clit, gently, firmly urging her to a higher plane. Linda was moaning more than breathing now, and loud sounds she hadn't heard before escaped her lips as two different fingers, two middle fingers with a mind of their own, massaged her slippery lips, all the while the two index fingers kept up their masterful massage around her sensitive clitoris that strained to feel their every touch.
Linda could feel the orgasm coming. It was going to be powerful, so powerful that it scared her, but she gave in to her primal urges and lifted her mid-section off the bed as her vagina contracted and wave after wave of the warmest pleasure washed over her again and again and again.
She slept late the next day, got up and made a cup of coffee as she stoked the fire, then went back to bed and pulled the covers over her. She curled her toes in memory of the previous night's ecstasy. It was too much to expect a repeat performance any time soon…..wasn't it?
It wasn't.
December storms piled snow on snow until the windows of Linda's cabin were beneath the snowline. She dug them out every other day, not because she needed to see out, but more because she felt a little claustrophobic, and didn't want to be totally covered in snow. Thank God the cabin was insulated and well-built.
Getting around in all the snow was tough, but Linda took pride in her ability to get around quickly on snowshoes. Few men could have kept up with her as she raced across the powdery landscape. Still, making her daily rounds was work. Linda often had little strength left to tear off her boots and make dinner at the end of the day. Dinner often consisted of whatever freeze-dried food she had the most of, or what can was closest on the shelf. Life was that busy.
When it wasn't, when Linda had time to think, her thoughts inevitably turned towards Christmas and Cole's promised visit. Occasionally she would wonder if he was all right, and worry that something had happened to him out in the woods with no one to help. But then she realized that he was probably thinking the same thing about her. She hoped he would, anyway. With some men you just never know. Maybe he was one of those men who are so dedicated to their work they hardly know when to eat. He could be one of those. But Linda was dedicated to her work, too, and the days went by quickly.
Another storm began the night of December 23rd, a great low-pressure system that swooped down a thousand miles from the Canadian Arctic dropping two feet of powder by morning on the 24th, with no sign of letting up. Linda set out on her rounds diligently, but the heavy snow and winds prompted her to work just half a day. It wasn't that much worse than other stormy days, but it was Christmas Eve day, so for once Linda decided not to fight the weather. She deserved some time off. Besides, if Cole was coming--if-if-if--it would be nice to cook something and do something to make the cabin a little Christmasy.
Once back in the cabin, Linda put a pan of water on the stove with clove and spices to create a lovely scent, scattered a few boughs of green in the corners and cut out Christmas tree shapes from old magazines, hanging them all around the room. Emergency candles, a few of them anyway, would add a nice touch later on. For food Linda opened a canned ham, and put it on the stove with a can of apricots that she mashed. With any luck--with a lot of luck--the fruit would thicken and make a glaze of sorts. Linda stuck extra cloves in the ham to make it seem oven-baked, but she had to laugh at the sight. No one would be fooled. Next came veggies, green beans. Not much to do there she thought. Maybe add a few toasted nuts. For dessert? Bread pudding was the final choice. Linda improvised an oven of sorts between two pans to bake the pudding in on the stove. An extra bonus was the smell of cinnamon in the baking concoction, adding a further festive touch.
By the time she finished the decorating and food prep it was close to 4 o'clock. Linda had little else to do but wait for Cole to show. She tried to dispel doubts about his coming: he forgot, he couldn't get out, he was hurt--or dead....She sat down with a frown, then jumped up suddenly, realizing that with all the cooking and decorating, she hadn't changed clothes from her workpants and long-underwear with matching turtleneck. Matching dirty turtleneck, she said to herself, rushing to change before Cole got there. She took off her top, wondering what would happen if Cole walked in right now without knocking and saw her topless.
She never wore a bra while working, but now, now, with Cole coming, maybe she should. She actually had nice looking breasts, not perfect maybe, but still shapely. Her nipples hardened in the drafty air away from the fire, sealing their fate. Should they decide to stick out at an inopportune moment with Cole, it would be best to have on a bra. Linda slipped into the only bra she had, the same one she'd worn on her first day out, and rummaged through the rough pine dresser where she kept her clothes for clean panties. A quick, involuntary shout of joy escaped her when she spied the new twin-pack of panties. Self congratulations are in order for being a good girl and doing laundry when it was needed, she thought to herself, instead of just using the new ones and being lazy.
Linda unlaced her boots and crouched down to strip off her pants and long underwear quickly, wondering what Cole would think NOW if he came in and saw her. Why am I thinking so much about Cole, she wondered as she idly selected a sweater and jeans. He was the only other person around, she rationalized, so of course it was logical. He was intriguing, though, and if he made a move on Linda, what would she do? Wouldn't happen, she said brusquely to herself, grabbing the pan of mashed apricot to divert her thoughts. She tasted it. Not bad, but...maybe a little brown sugar would help. Yes, it did.
Light was fading now, and Linda began to lose hope of having a Christmas Eve guest. The food and decorations now made her homesick, and she could feel the start of tears and a long depressing evening. I am so pathetic, she said to herself, then savagely answering "I am not" out loud. Perhaps a drink would help. All she had was a pint of vodka and she didn't even know why she'd brought that. Still, it would do. She measured out an inch in a glass and spooned in some Tang, filling the rest of the glass up with water. She tasted it, and made a face, but quickly drank most of the glass, then all of it. So much for drinking.
