Cabin Fever

It was late when she got in, his ex-girlfriend up to stay at a cabin they were renting among a group of mutual friends. The room had two beds -- just about everyone had gotten to the house early, and the other rooms were basically all taken.

He pretended to be asleep -- she turned the light on for a second and must have been able to see it was him. She rolled her bag in, unpacked her toothbrush, and left the room.

He closed his eyes again and didn't open them when she returned. He heard her take her pants off and what must have been her sweater. She got under the covers.

They had broken up years ago. She had probably gotten over it more quickly than him. There'd been some fooling around in the early days but never cheating and nothing recent. She was dating a professor of something he didn't want to think about; it seemed permanent. By now they had settled in to a casual but stilted friendship -- they would always be exes more than friends.

Minutes passed -- he found it hard to relax. Images of her going down on him-- in the hot tub, in the snow -- went through his mind.

He heard her turn over, facing the ceiling maybe. She gave a sort of harrumph, unsatisfied, clearly wide awake herself despite the hour. He wondered if he should say something. He turned over his pillow to its cool side, somewhat noisily. He tried to think of boring thoughts so he could fall asleep.

She moved about. He heard her breath quicken a bit, thought he heard a murmur, some rustling, not quite a moan, then nothing, as if she were coming to a decision.

He'd opened his eyes by now but he couldn't see much in the dark. She turned again, her breathing changed, became deeper as if she were trying to calm herself. She sat up in the bed (though he couldn't quite see), paused, swung her legs around and in a second she'd crossed the space between the two beds and she was on him and under the covers.

He was on his side, but she clearly wanted to be on top and forced him onto his back. There was a pause where they were both breathing hard. It was clear that he wanted this, making small thrusts up at her. He felt her naked legs against his as she ground against him. His hands crept to the side of her hips, under her t-shirt. He moved to kiss her but she pushed him back, bringing her chest to his face. He pulled her shirt over her head and brought his tongue to her breasts, her nipples beginning to get hard -- sucking on them now and kissing along her ample cleavage.

He was hard now. He liked her taking charge, which she hadn't done much when they were together. He went to kiss her but again she refused, this time putting her finger to his lips, which she left there. She kissed his neck, ground her crotch against him, and he gasped -- his mouth opening and her two fingers sliding past his teeth to his tongue.

He wet them, turned on, submissive. He could barely see in the dark but her eyes seemed insistent and commanding and maybe almost contemptuous. Aroused. She reached down and began to jerk him off. He moaned. She spit into her hand and worked faster, his sounds getting lounder. Now she kissed him, her tongue sliding into his and turning him on even more.

She ended the kiss, their foreheads touching and her eyes looking into his as she brought him higher and higher, her hand shuttling faster and faster, and he moaned desperately. He couldn't think straight -- he was utterly at her mercy.

She stopped for a second, took her panties off. He took this moment to remove his shirt. She caressed along his ribs as she moved up the bed, straddling his face.

Her pussy was sopping wet. He immediately began kissing her -- her smooth thighs, her mons. He licked her lips, moved up to her clit, circling it gently at first but then more firmly with insistence, earning a gasp.

She braced her arms against the metal frame of the bed behind him. He couldn't see but he imagined her head thrown back, long red hair everywhere. She was moaning now, high pitched sounds that he had always liked. If she worried about being heard, she wasn't acting like it. Her thighs clamped around him. His neck tilted back, she began to press insistently against him. He held her hips in place so her jerky motions wouldn't interfere with getting her off.

Her breath had gotten faster now, but her moans were maybe quieter -- trying to control herself but failing. She grabbed the back of his head with one hand, her pinkie digging in to the nape of his neck. Her own head now rested on the wall, the other hand on the bed frame, her sounds becoming slower and deeper, like grunts. She let him continue like that for a while.

She climbed off him -- straddling his body, naked, her tits touching his chest. He kicked off his underwear. She rubbed herself against him to get him wet and make him harder again. His arms circled her smooth back.

"Are you...?" He asked.

"It's fine."

She grabbed him with her hand and shoved herself into him. Her skin scratched against his thighs and he gasped once he was fully inside her.

He was laying on his back; she was leaning over him, her tits bouncing in his face while riding him. She wasn't loud but intent, short, tight strokes up and down. He closed his eyes, put his hands on her hips, felt her going faster and faster on top of him.

He brought his hands to her shoulders, pulled her chest to his mouth. She moaned, a bit tired now, wriggling against him. Him feeling her pussy all along him in ragged strokes, driving him wild. He went to flip her onto her back, wanting nothing more than to really rail her, fuck the shit out her and make them both come.

For a second it seemed like she'd let him, but she put her hands on his shoulders and straightened her back upward, became turning her hips in tight circles that made him almost lose it, him growling with desire as she began to move faster and faster.

She looked amazing, the moonlight shining off her white skin, her tits bouncing, her red hair tousled and wanton. He began to breathe faster and faster, and her face contorted, getting louder and louder, almost like asserting her dominance over him.

"You fucking slut." She said. She repeated it. "You little fucking slut." Her breath grew ragged, her moans incoherent. She lost control as she came, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, her screaming to wake the dead.

His dick inside her felt amazing but then she slowed down, and he thought she might stop and leave him unsatisfied. But then when she regained some control, she smiled and gave him what he liked, leaning down again over him riding him faster and faster. She kissed his neck, gave a playful bite to his chin. Her bouncing up and down on him without restraint, wiggling side to side a bit so he could feel her pussy envelop him. This is what he'd wanted. He was so close. He gave out a growl -- their eyes locked as he came gasping inside of her -- waves of pleasure overtaking him as his eyes closed and his whole awareness condensed and exploded into climax.

They lay there for a moment, breathing hard. She pulled herself off of him as she rolled over onto her side. Her head lay on his chest for some moments, her hand stroking his shoulder thoughtfully, his caressing her hair. She turned her head and their eyes met, though he couldn't really say what had passed between them. They kissed softly, her hand pressed to his shoulder.

She put her finger on his lips, not that he was planning to speak. Her hair tossed as she left the bed, not bothering to scrounge around for her clothes. She lay back in bed; they both gave satisfied sighs, and he for one fell into a deep and satisfied sleep.