The Cabin

In the quiet corners of our minds, where dreams and reveries intertwine, there exists a delicate dance between fantasy and reality. These realms, though seemingly disparate, share an intricate bond--one that shapes our perceptions, desires, and the very essence of our existence. In the twilight of imagination, fantasy unfurls its wings. It beckons us to traverse landscapes uncharted, where dragons breathe fire, and starlight weaves tapestries of wonder. Here, we are architects of our own cosmos, sculpting castles from stardust and donning cloaks of invisibility. The rules of physics yield to our whims, and the mundane dissolves into mist. Yet, reality tugs at our sleeves, insisting we return from our astral escapades. It is the sun's warmth on our skin, the scent of rain-soaked earth, and the laughter shared with kindred souls. Reality is the canvas upon which we paint our existence, layer by imperfect layer.

How had this reality manifested in such glorious and unexpected ways. Was it unexpected, or was this the inevitable outcome, here on your knees as her light touch of fingertips caress your thighs, as you anticipate the sudden push of an extension of her, brought to bear on your pleasure centers. Here on your hands and knees knowing you will accept whatever she decides to give you, in the ways that she sees fit, your pussy quivering and already slick again with the desire to let her have you, to let her take you with her cock. Had you imagined this very scenario? Perhaps not, but you had known that your connection with her would allow you to feel and experience whatever you both choose to experience together. And here lies the true revelation: reality, when infused with deep connection, transcends even the most vivid fantasies.

And so, as she slides every inch of the strap on slowly inside your quivering slit, you close your eyes and moan a most pleasurable sound, the reality of what it has felt like to fuck her, and to now be fucked by her is better than the fantasy you could have concocted in your head. You are wracked by shivers and goosebumps, the realization of being bent over and vulnerable to her slow and rhythmic thrusts overwhelms you...her mouth and her fingers were enough to tip you over the edge time and time again, but this submissive position and the delicate care she shows in caressing your hips, your back, and guiding the cock inside of you has melted your expectations yet again, here in this cabin where each passing minute seems to bring another euphoric revelation of the ways you please each other. You moan her name and tell her how good it feels.

You cannot see her face, you cannot see the smile that is permanently entrenched as she clinches and thrusts in an effortless motion, as if she had been training to fuck you in this way. Her own sense of lust and fulfillment being met as she watches your hands reach out in front of you, your torse lowering to the bed as you thrust your ass higher and back. She is in tune with your rhythm and is able to tell that you are wanting to feel her deeper, only slightly picking up the cadence of her strokes, taking the time to admire and caress the flesh of your back. Hadn't she dreamed of being able to touch every inch of you? To be able to see the sweat bead in places not seen by the naked eye. She watches as you arch your back to breath in time with her strokes, she smells the scent of your arousal, a scent still permeating her lips and intoxicating her from when she was tasting you directly. She allows herself to be lost in the moment, the ways the light from the fireplace create shadows that dance across your body, the seeming agony that starts to build in your moans and cries as you rock back against her, the building desire in her own clit as the primal motion of fucking ignites her lust and her own bodies desire to be satiated, to find relief and release in the comfort of your touch.

But her task is not complete, she wants, no she needs to see your desire fulfilled. Her thrusting picks up in depth and intensity, the singular thought burning in her mind of wanting to hear your voice call out again, to watch your body writhe in the rapture of another tiny death through orgasm. He can feel the smile turn to a look of focus, the feelings inside of her surrendering to the primal force, her desire to make you cum...it becomes singular, overwhelming. She rears back a hand and slaps your ass, making you call out. She pauses only slightly to notice the red mark her hand has left, the image makes her desire grow, your shared rhythm only building to a crescendo. You feel it, you call it with a guttural growl that you are coming, you feel the cock...you feel her cock, rubbing in the spot you like and causing your entire pussy to contract around it. You cum hard. She sees the fluid erupt out of you, around the phallus inside of you. She is breathing heavy, and she is overcome. She withdraws the cock and is quickly on her hands and knees, her face buried in your freshly fucked pussy, lapping at the residual moisture and sucking your clip in between her lips. You call out and beg her not to stop, and soon you are cumming again, a torrent of your juices erupting in her mouth, down her chin, but she does not relent, her mouth greedily laps up what you have to offer and she hungrily sucks the lips of your labia into her mouth...you can't believe the sensations flowing through you. Her fingers are inside of you again and she is stroking your pussy...the feelings start to build again and your mind races. Yes, this is what you wanted to have her please you, to show her how much she filled you with desire, to give her hungry mouth all the satisfaction you could muster, and she draws it out of you so easily.

As your body wracks from a third successive orgasm, you finally fall flat on the bed. Exhausted and fulfilled for what seems like the millionth time this evening. One evening...how many hours have even passed? What is time anyway in a moment such as this, only a measuring stick to inadequately describe a transcendence that cannot be understand by such human inventions as seconds, minutes, and hours. Nevertheless, the time passes, and you are unsure how long you have been face down trying to recover. You roll over to see her at the head of the bed, leaning back into the pillows, the strap on laying by her side having been removed. She is smiling at you...does she have any idea what that smile does to you? The smoky knowing look in her eye has always melted you. In fact she does know what it does to you, because your eyes and their invitation and the smile that goes with them has always melted her as well. How long had she been crushing on you before she worked the courage to mention it to you? A slight risk but one taken in confidence knowing the depth of your connection...a risk that she had decided would be worth the reward, and hadn't it been so! All the playful banter, all the slight grazings of flesh leading to this night, this moment in the cabin. Fantasies fulfilled and then some.

She spreads her legs slightly while you both enjoy a moment of eye contact that says more than any spoken words could. You finally manage to find the words to tell her how amazing that had been and that you can't remember gushing quite like that. She says she rather enjoyed that and was happy to have a face wet and sticky with all the goodness she could muster. You notice her hands gently grazing along the interior of her thighs and her pussy wet and slightly parted, a sure sign of her own arousal. You make to sit up, but she tells you to stay where you are. "I want you to watch me, I want to show you how I cum, when I am at home, thinking of you and these moments. I want you to see how I get myself off when I am thinking about you, about us." Your devious mind plays an oft recited catchphrase internally, "don't threaten me with a good time!", but you simply say okay, the blush rising in your cheeks as you accept this act of vulnerability from her.

You sit up, facing her as she begins to caress her body with both hands, moving them over her gorgeous breasts, feathering along her nipples, around the luscious curves, trailing fingers down her tummy, over her belly button. She tells you that she is so turned on by what just happened, how amazing it felt to fuck you with her strap on, hearing you calling her name while you came. You tell her how good it felt to you. Her fingers find her clit, gently touching and tracing along the exterior and you can see the expression on her face change, a slight pause of pleasure and focus descending on her beautiful features, the parting of her lips as if she has been jolted by a sudden shock, and you know she has, that electricity that you feel when you touch your own clit, the elation and the explosion of the sensitivity. Her free hand explores her body as her she keeps the other hand on her sex, her body starting to move in all too familiar pattern of pleasure you yourself recognize. You find your own body compelled to mirror the movement, and you notice your own legs have parted and your own hand has found your clit. Your eyes are locked into hers, and she is lost is yours. A seeming bond between the both of you as your individual hands seem to move in concert together. You are so close to her and she to you. She begins to speak, low moaning sounds, she is telling you how she thinks about what has happened tonight in the dark when she wants to make herself cum, all the ways she wanted to feel and touch your body and how much it pleased her to do it. You repeat similar affirmations to her, how good she made you feel, how much better it was than even you had imagined it would be. Your hands moving quicker now, it wont take long, her hand darts out and clasps around your neck, causing you to lean in closer, to keep your balance you do the same. Now you both stare into each other's eyes as the moans and pants build, looking into each other's faces as your hands work on your clits, fingers wet and glistening, bodies electric. She tenses and says she is going to cum, you react instantly saying you will cum with her. And you do. And she does. And your hands first tighten on each other's necks as the euphoria sweeps your bodies yet again, and then loosen, and eventually fall, as you both roll onto your sides, gasping, spent.

Satiated. Exhausted. Content. Regenerating. You don't know exactly what your body is feeling, but you know that you are ending the evening how you always like to with her. Cuddling together in this big comfortable bed. She has always filled your bucket and tonight is no different, and yet it is also so very different. Something familiar causes you to nuzzle up against her and something new, the warm ache of a clit and pussy well used, causes you to purr. Her giggle and "damn right girl" cause you to giggle back. Time passes in the ways that it always does, and you spend it chatting with her in the ways that are so familiar. This bed is big enough for the both of you but there is no longer a pretext or need to feel like you need to be dressed, or careful, you are in this space where you can both be yourself. Before you trail off to sleep, and chase the dreams of possibilities, you wonder if this had been real, or just another of those fantasies that you so often welcomed into the bed with you, like a warm blanket. In the end, you decide it doesn't matter. If it is real, then you will wake up with her next to you, another day of possibilities ahead. If it is fantasy, then it has been a delightful one, another reminder of the deep bond and connection you both share. You sleep, inviting Morpheus to guide you to the next dream that could be.

So, dear dreamer, cherish your fantasies--they are the seeds of possibility. But when reality knocks, fling open the door. For within its mundane corridors, magic awaits. And when deep connections weave their spell, reality dances with the grace of a thousand fairy tales.

*Never the end, but always a beginning*