Hey! It's MY fantasy, so it can be as unreal as I want. It is very unreal, and while characters are based on women I have known, admired, and lusted after. Obviously none of the following is true.
*
The morning woke foggy. Tendrils of softness wrapped the trees in the deep forest. Dew dripped off pine needles onto the forest bed, sounding almost as a soft rain. I was snug in my bed, blanket warm against the morning chill.
I had just spent my first night in what I called Thoreau's Cabin. It was my retreat: a 10x12 foot Tiny House, as they are known, that I had built in the woods near, but not too near, my main house. It was small, but cozy, with lots of big windows to let in what light filtered through large pine trees. It had a bed, a desk, a chair, and a small area for use as a "kitchen," consisting of a small cabinet hung on the wall that accommodated minimal food and some water in a jug. No electricity. No running water. The bathroom was the nearest tree. Canned Sterno heated water for instant coffee.
It was my shelter from loneliness, which might sound odd, but sometimes to escape loneliness, one must seek solitude. I don't know if that was a part of Thoreau's original motivation for building his similar cabin on Walden Pond. All I know is that I felt the need to have such a haven. My marriage had gone stale. My son had grown into teenage surliness. I had grown into being totally alone, and lonely, in my own house.
There was a knock at the door. Seven a.m. Who could it be? And more: almost no one knew Thoreau's Cabin was here. Tucked in the woods, it was invisible unless you were practically at the door. And it was my first night in it. Unpainted pine trim still smelled fresh and woody.
I wrapped the blanket around me and got up, moving the three steps to the door. Opening the door, I gasped. It was Veronica Wright! A woman I had known in college and dated briefly. Back then, I couldn't stand it that she would only listen to disco music, the Bee Gees and Donna Summer weren't at the top of my list. We didn't last as a couple.
But here she was, looking as she had in college. How could that be? She had deep, dark, huge eyes that always looked a little crazed and frantic. That hadn't changed.
"Veronica?" I stammered, "Is it you? What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you," she said simply.
"After all these years? Why?" I asked, amazed at many things.
"I missed you," she said, and smiled. She was very cute. She had short black hair and a slim, sweet body. She always wore dresses, and today was no exception. A frilly yellow dress, scooped in front to display modest cleavage, full skirt extending below her knees. She might have been wearing petticoats. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked.
Well, that was the problem. I had made myself a promise that any woman entering Thoreau's Cabin would get fucked. No exceptions. It was made mostly in humor, because I never expected it to be tested. And now, I had a test. Well, I decided quickly, drinking in her sweet form under the dress, rules are rules. But, visitors had to know beforehand. It wasn't to be rape.
"Well, Veronica," I began, "It's like this. House rules are that if you step across the threshold you have to make love to me."
"You mean, go to bed with you?" she asked, the slightest smile playing across rich lips.
"Yeah. This cabin is my refuge from a lot of bad experiences, and so I made myself a promise that any woman who came inside would have to have sex with me."
"So can I come in?"
"Do you do this freely, and agree to my rules?" I asked.
In answer, she opened the screen door and came in past me. She put her purse on my small writing desk.
Her eyes had that slightly crazed look that I remembered well. "Do you remember how we used to make out?" she asked.
Boy, did I. I would lie on my bed and pull her on top of me. We would thrash tongues while we dry-humped, me working my hands under her dress to grip her cheeks, moving her by fondling her delightfully tight ass, rubbing her mound on my hard dick. We never fucked, just dry-humped.
And she was a screamer. She would lean up from kissing while we moved and scream, her crazy eyes looking at me as if I were actually fucking her. She'd scream, cum, and collapse. Yeah, I remembered. Another reason for our parting was the ribbing I took from my apartment mates, who always seemed to be home whenever we humped in my room.
"How could I forget a woman as hot as you?" I smiled.
"I came back because we never finished what we started," she said. "We're going to do that now." With that, she pulled her dress over her head and laid it over the back of my desk chair. She was in a bra and bikini panties. Quickly, she cast them off, too, and stood before me naked, and a little abashed, I think. But her body was as sweet as I had imagined.
"What about you?" she said.
I was wearing a blanket and my whitey tighties. I threw the blanket over the single mattress. I beckoned her, and she crawled under the blanket and pulled it up to her neck, smiling. I dropped my drawers, my cock now hard and pointing out straight.
"Come here," she said. I moved up to the head of the bed. She grabbed my cock and, sitting up, licked the underside of it, and then swallowed the whole length in one quick move. Her nose was buried in my pubic hair. She slid her lips up and came off with a pop and looked at me. "I've wanted this for 25 years!" she said, "but no foreplay right now. If you don't stick that in me I'll die!"
Not wishing to be responsible for such a dire consequence, I crawled into bed next to her, moving the blanket away so that I could take in the sight of her body. It was exquisite: tight tummy, smooth hips, pert little breasts with taut, erect nipples. Her legs were together, below a sweet little dark trimmed bush. Her hands were on her thighs. She looked at me longingly. "I have to have you now!" she said, and parted her legs, bending at the knees. She reached out to my shoulders and pulled me between her legs. The tip of my cock felt her wet opening. She moved a hand to grasp it and position me to enter her. I thrust forward and buried myself inside her. Her eyes went crazy and she screamed. I pulled back and thrust in, and she screamed again. I set up a rhythm of hard thrusts, pummeling my dick into her warmth. She screamed at every stroke.
"Yes! Yes! Yes! This is what I've wanted! Fuck me harder! Harder!" She was loud. I was glad we were deep in the woods.
Wanting to oblige, I pushed up on my arms and wrapped her knees outside my elbows, tilting her ass up and giving me deeper penetration and more control. I banged away, balls slapping her ass as my cock filled her cunt. It was an urgent rhythm of hard, rapid thrusts.
Her screaming stopped, and she just looked at me wide eyed as I pounded her pussy. She was cumming hard, I could feel her walls squeezing my shaft, and her pussy got even more slippery with juices.
"God, I love how you fuck me!" she screamed. Her fingernails raked my back as I loomed above her, her legs against her chest and my hardness pumping in and out. I looked down to see the glistening wetness on my shaft as I pulled out and slammed in. This was an animal fuck. No tenderness, no loving, just hard sex.
She came again, screams dying off to an open-mouthed silence, eyes wild, her pussy clamping down. I felt a load begin to bubble up from my balls. It was time for a change of strategy. I rammed in deep and stopped. She looked at me, and I looked deeply into her eyes. I slowly withdrew to where my tip was barely inside. Then I rammed home hard. She screamed and grabbed my ass. I withdrew slowly and rammed again, she pulling me inside with groans and screams. I pulled out slowly and rammed home again. It was time.
"This time I'm going to explode," I said, looking into those crazed eyes.
"Yes! Yes! Cum in me!" she screamed.
