In A Cabin By The Lake

We were up at the cabin. Finally had a weekend to us - no meetings, no phone, no distractions.

As we lay in front of the fireplace basking in it's warm amber glow, my hand caresses his stong chest as it rises and falls with each breath he takes. My mind begins to wander, remembering the events of the morning.......

His skin is a beautiful golden brown kissed by the sun as he worked in the yard, clearing bushes. Sweat glistened as it rolled down his body snaking a trail my tongue longed to follow.

I stood in the window watching him with my heart beating faster and my breath labored, remembering other times his breath was hot on my neck. My hand moved to my breast, caressing myself as if he were there.

My nipples harden and strain to be free of my black lace bra. They yearn to be worshiped by his hands and tongue.

My hand moves lower to the silky depths under my skirt, gliding into the soft moist folds.

My eyes flutter closed as feelings of ecstasy overtake me. I am caught unaware that he has come inside the cabin until I feel his hardness pressing against my backside.

My sweater is undone one button at a time. Slowly the pearl buttons pop out of the holes, aided by his skillful fingers, until the sweater slides off my shoulders, over my hips, and lands in a soft puddle on the floor around my feet. I can hear the teeth of the zipper as the pull glides down. Soon my skirt is just another puddle on the floor at my feet, forgotten in the passion of the moment.

The sun is setting. I open my eyes for a moment and watch the brilliant oranges, reds, and gold reflect off the water. When the dropping orb makes its last appearance in the sky you can almost hear the sizzle as it hits the water. Or is that the sound of my blood heating, ringing in my ears?

His hands take over the caressing of my breasts for me as his soft lips kiss a path along my neck, down my shoulders. On their own, my hands reach behind to hold his hips, firmly pressing his body to mine so I can feel the outline of his pulsing desire.

Our hips join in the age-old dance of passion, meshing together as only long time lovers can. The kisses become hotter and more urgent, leaving trails of burning flesh in their wake.

My body longs for satisfaction, for the empty places to be filled with my lover's hardness, touch, and desires. Ever so slowly I turn my aching body towards his, careful not to interrupt the contact of skin. My hands follow the waistline of his jeans, from his hips to the zipper in front. A zipper straining with the one thing I know will fill the void I have.

My lips seek his as if they have a mind of their own, driven by want. As my fingers are unzipping his pants, and lowering them to join my clothes on the floor, his tongue is devouring my mouth.

I run my tongue over his lips with butterfly like softness. He likes that. His hardness pulses in my hand, showing me just how much.

While his hands explore my shoulders, my neck, and my beasts, my hands are feeling the silky hairs on his chest. A chest I long to feel pressed to mine in that dance of hot passion.

My mouth reluctantly leaves his to work a trail of kisses down his neck, across his chest, seeking his already hardening nipples. He knows what is coming. He wants what is coming.

My tongue flicks over a taught nipple. As my mouth envelops it, my fingers play with the other. Much as I love to make him feel good this way, I know what would make him feel better.

The clothing on the floor at my feet makes for a soft cushion beneath my knees. I grasp him in my hands, stroking him. Teasing him for what we both know is coming.

He is so filled with desire that it's spilling out, glistening on the tip of his fullness. My tongue snakes out from between my lips and snatches that glistening drop before it falls. He twitches in anticipation. I purr with want.

My eyes look up into his with a seductive twinkle at the same time my mouth encompasses him. I go for the shock value as my lips meet the silky fine hair nestled at the juncture of his manhood and his pelvis. My nose is filled with his musky scent just as my mouth is filled with his hard passion.

Slowly my lips make their way up the shaft until only the tip remains within the wet confines of my mouth. My tongue twirls slowly around the tip as my eyes close and his hands grip the hair at the back of my head, pushing me closer to him.

My tongue gently surrounds the underside of his shaft, gliding up and down as my teeth rake lightly on the upper side. Each time my lips get to the top, and my tongue twirls around lapping up the pre-cum peeking out of the tip, I feel his man muscle twitch and throb. He's getting close.

My head moves up and down his shaft, to the rhythm of a song played out only in our minds, and our bodies. His hands wind themselves tighter and tighter into my hair, guiding my mouth. I bring him closer to bursting with passions juices.

The paces increase and frenzy mounts. My hands cup his balls and caress his hips and buttocks, guiding his manhood deeper into the recesses of my hot mouth. Soon his passion explodes to fill my mouth with hot juices that slide down my throat as the pace of my head slows.

He gently guides me up off my knees to stand fully pressed against his body. I can feel the heat and racing pulse as his hard sweaty body presses to mine; his lips seeking mine. I feel the slight hesitation as he tastes himself on my lips and tongue.

Our hands caress one another in the spots we know bring heightened desires as we move back to the big overstuffed chair in the corner by the fireplace. Once there he pushes me gently into the cushions, sliding my hips to the edge of the chair.

My legs need no encouragement to open, inviting him to explore the recesses.

As his lips taste mine once again his hands explore the hot pink folds between my legs. His fingers slide through the soft brown silky hairs, moist with desire.

His lips leave mine to trail down my neck. His tongue seeks out my nipple, teasing it to hardness. As it puckers with longing his mouth surrounds one milky white orb and his hands gently caress the other.

My hands grip the arm rests, my nails digging in. My hips are moving, my pelvis thrusting forward seeking contact with him.

A hot trail of kisses is left behind by his mouth on my chest, my stomach, over my belly button towards my waiting folds.

My eyes are closed, letting the orgasmic waves wash over my hot flesh and seeping straight through to the very core of my womanhood. A CD was playing in the background; the crescendo's seeming to correspond with the spasms of our bodies.

His satiny smooth lips whisper sweet nothings on my thighs. My hands are gripping the back of the chair, above my head. They are frozen there as if held in place by silk scarves. My scarlet fingernails almost pierce the rough utilitarian fabric.

Should I reach down and help his tongue find its way home? Should I guide his face to the musky silkiness that is the open door to my sex? Yes, I should but ohhhhhh it just feels too good to disturb; the way he takes little love bites on my thighs. These are soft, yet titillating.

His hands have abandoned my breasts, making their way down to my hips. Closer and closer his hands move. His hot breath reaches closer and closer to the hot wetness that is my arousal.

A low moan escapes my mouth, barely a whisper as the fingers of his right hand pass over my silky mound, on their way to wipe his face. Is his mouth watering in anticipation? My hips are circling in a dance of want. I can't control them any longer.

Desire leaves my body in the form of moisture glistening on my private hair. The musky sent is calling for him to "come drink", and he does.

The first wave comes crashing over me. I announce it with a scream that sends the little woodland creatures outside the cabin scurrying. My body shakes with the force and intensity as he holds me firmly to him; hands on my hips as he buries his face between my legs. He helps me ride this wave and continue coasting along on this sea of love. Or is it lust?

Somehow my ankles have found themselves entwined behind his head. As his tongue licks my clit, two of his fingers probe deeper and deeper. I can no longer restrain my hands. Curled in his wavy hair, they are pulling him closer and closer. How he can breath with his nose so deeply pressed against me? He is breathing in my climaxed juices, which makes his own sex pulse.

His fingers are moving at a fast rhythm very similar to that of a piston in a car -- in and out so fast and so smooth that you can't tell where one stops and the other begins.

Just as fast is the movement of his tongue as it laps up the juices spilling from within. Every now and then a slurping noise escapes his throat to join with my gasps and my pleas for 'more'.

Just when I think I can't take it any longer, and that I'll explode in an orgasm so strong it'll take me days to recover from, he swiftly picks me up and impales me on his throbbing manhood. So much moisture is present that this occurs without a hitch.

I cling to his shoulders as I rise and fall, my actions match the waves lapping the shore down at the beach. He has grasped my buttocks and uses his hands to guide me up and down his rigid shaft. My ankles cling to the back of his thighs.

Our bodies are crushed together and rubbing so furiously that I'm sure sparks will fly any moment. We are so hot to the touch our blood is sure to boil over.

All of a sudden we open our eyes and gaze at one another. We are one, as only long time lovers can be.

When our breath returns to normal and my vision clears, I see droplets of blood on his shoulders. They match the droplets on the tips of my fingers. I kiss them away as he slowly loosens his grip on my behind. His strong hands help steady me as I try to stand. My knees are as week as a newborn fawn.

Reluctantly we begin to gather our clothing and tidy up the cabin, for it's time to go home. Time to go back to being the parents. Ha, but how refreshed we shall be!