For years now, I've had a cabin in my head. When life brings me down I take a few minutes and go to my own private retreat. My cabin isn't terribly fancy, in fact from the outside it's quite plain. Set back at forest's edge, it's miles away from everything but trees and a small stream that runs off to one side. There's no television, no computer, not even a phone. Absolutely no ties to the outside world; no way for me to reach anyone, and no way for anyone to bother me.
What it lacks in modern technology is more than made up for, however. The entirety of the living room is shelved, and on those shelves are all the books I've ever read or wanted to read. Well-cushioned armchairs and a long deep-seated couch are arranged here, allowing for hours of comfortable reading. A large picture window takes center stage of one wall. Across the room is a fireplace, in front of which lays a soft rug. I've spent a lot of time in this room reading, enjoying a nice fire, or sometimes curled up on the couch watching an amazing lightning storm.
Off the living room through a swinging door is the kitchen. It's a small but cozy room, equipped with all the various gadgets and appliances typical to any kitchen. A small round table and two chairs sit before a window with a view of the stream and meadow in the back. I've occasionally sat and enjoyed coffee or hot chocolate while watching all manner of woodland creatures pass by, or even the simple beauty of a snowfall.
The bathroom would be a surprising sight for newcomers. The shower takes up an entire corner of the room and is equipped with dual showerheads and a bench seat. The center of the room is dominated by a massive sunken tub, large enough for my five foot eight frame to float in comfortably. There's a supply of candles and all manner of scented bath gels for me to enjoy when I need desperately to relax.
But my favorite room would have to be the bedroom. It's dominated by a massive canopy bed that sits in the center of the room, its black wood frame draped by blood red gauzy fabric that hangs down over the sides. It's the only furniture in the room, apart from one small chair angled with a view to the center of the bed and small tables adorned with candles. This is the room I come to when I feel a need for private time. Many a fantasy has been played out in that bed.
I write this because I want to take you there with me, want to share my cabin with you. In fact, I already have. Let me tell you about it.
I invited you to my cabin for a get-away-from-the-world week. It was just the two of us, isolated together and free to do whatever we wanted. The first day was spent getting acquainted face-to-face, the air around us charged with nervous energy and something more. You made no secret of watching my every move, and I in turn made it no secret that I wanted you. With every word, every small gesture, every slightest innocent touch the tension between us grew.
Mentally deciding I could take no more I rise from my place next to you on the sofa, announcing my intentions to take a shower as I slip off my shoes. I walk from the room slowly, unbuttoning my top as I go, throwing a glance back your way with a small smile as the thin fabric slips from my shoulders. You sit for a moment more before following, finding my discarded jeans in the short hallway. Upon reaching the bathroom door you find my bra hanging from the knob, and a smile creeps across your lips. You push open this final obstacle, the sound of rushing water filling your ears.
Looking to the corner you notice my panties on the floor in front of the shower. I'm already under the steaming water, seemingly unaware of your presence. You stand and watch me as my head tilts back into the stream, my skin glistening as my fingers run through my hair. Slowly you remove your clothes, not taking your eyes from me. You approach quietly and open the shower door. I give a small smile as you enter and take a seat.
Neither of us speak as I begin to wash my body, the fragrant soap covering my wet skin with a million tiny bubbles. I wash slowly, soaping my breasts and down my stomach, bending for my legs, rising up for my thighs. I close my eyes and lean back against the wall as my soapy hands move between my legs. The suds rinse away as I begin to pleasure myself, one hand sneaking up to my breasts, massaging the flesh as my other hand slips over my wet folds.
You sit entranced as a soft moan escapes me, watching my fingers slowly sink between my lips. I bring one foot up to rest next to you, treating your eyes to a close-up view of me touching myself. My hand moves with practiced ease, rubbing and teasing as it's done so many times before, moans louder and punctuated by fevered panting. The hand on my breasts squeezing them now as the movements of the fingers between my legs gain speed. I begin to fuck myself while you watch, whispering of how I want you, how I need you.
You stand upon hearing this, and in one fluid motion you remove my hand and replace it with your cock. My hands grab for the bar set behind me, steadying myself, one leg still up on the bench as your hips begin pumping into me. My moans echo off the walls back to us as we both watch your cock slip in and out, the hot water pouring over our joined bodies. All too soon I feel my body tense, my silken walls clamping around you as I lose control. You stop buried deep inside, moaning with me, adoring this most intimate of massages.
You move then and resume your seat on the bench, pulling me down to my knees in front of you. Without hesitation I purr and lower my mouth onto you, lapping at your shaft with my soft tongue, tasting myself on your cock. I swallow it then, taking it deep, my tongue seeming to find every nerve at once as I slowly suck you. Your fingers run through my wet hair, and as your palm comes to rest on the back of my head I moan against you.
