Cottage Surprise

"Linda called last night," Chrissy said as I came down the stairs for breakfast. "She said she and Mark had planned on going to the cabin this afternoon and stay the weekend; but Mark had to work. She wanted to know if we wanted to join her."

Linda and Mark – my wife's sister and her husband – had bought a cottage on Lake Gaston, just three hours away. He said it was his "retirement package," a place that he could rent for $1,000 a week during the summer and a place to which he could "retire" during the rest of the year. Spring was nearing, and so the two of them were trying to make the most use of the cottage before the rental season began. The big advantage for me and Chrissy was that we were often invited – all the benefits without the headaches of hassling with renters and rental agencies.

"We were going to leave around noon," she added.

"Babe, you know I'd love to go, but I have to work too. I was out late last night on appointments, I have a full day today, and I'll probably be up early tomorrow finishing up some paperwork."

"You're going to be working Saturday ... again?"

My silence wasn't the answer she wanted.

"Do you know how many times we've had to turn down their invitation, because you have to work on Saturdays? It seems that's all you ever do, lately, and I'm getting tired of it. I want to go and have some fun!"

"Well, Babe, you and Linda go and have some fun. I just can't make it. There's just so much I have to get done. Even Mark can't make it; it's just that time of year."

"That time of year! It's always 'that time of year'! It's always something you have to do for work. Linda and I will go, and we'll have fun, with or without you and Mark. Neither of you are the guys we married; you're both so busy with your work. You're just no fun anymore."

My silence continued, but now it was joined by hers. The only sounds the rest of the breakfast hour were my cereal bowl being slammed into the sink, and the door slamming behind me as I went off to work.

"You're just no fun anymore." Her words rattled around in my brain the whole day. After fifteen years of marriage, settled into the routine of daily life, I wasn't any fun any more. There were long hours during the week, the more than occasional Saturday office hours, and the weekend chores I could squeeze in on a Sunday afternoon. I was exhausted. So we didn't go out – not even on the weekends – except for a movie which I could just sit through. And there were quite a few invitations to the cottage that I had declined. My wife was right – imagine that.

I made a decision. I would stay a little late in the afternoon and finish up the paperwork and take off after that. If I could be finished by 7:00, I would still be up there around 10:00 and we could have all day Saturday and Sunday together; maybe go out for dinner Saturday night and sleep in Sunday morning. Yes ... it would work.

A couple of attempts to call and let Chrissy know of my plan were met with only her cell's voice mail. "Oh well," I thought, "I'll just surprise her!"

After work – it was closer to 8:00 – I threw a few things in a bag and set off for the lake. The week was taking its toll as I noticed my eyes blurring over a couple of times on the trip down. The headlights of passing cars made me squint and strain to see the road and more than once I made the rumble strips on the right shoulder of the highway serve their purpose.

The problem was that once I left the interstate and started on the twisting, country roads that wound their way around the lake, there were no more rumble strips, no more shoulders. Black asphalt abutted a narrow band of green and then dipped into a ditch.

A tired driver met the ditch with only a half-mile to go. My eyes drooped, my head dropped, and the car swerved. Before I could pull back on the road, both tires on the right were caught in the rut. I braked and then tried to ease back onto the pavement; but it wasn't going to happen. The front tire spun, but couldn't get a grip in the sand and clay mixture of the ditch.

I weighed my options. I could call for a tow truck and wait – one, two, maybe three hours at this time of night – with the car. Or I could walk the 2500 feet to the cottage and call for the tow truck in the morning. Or I could just torch the whole shebang and forget about it. I decided to hoof it on down the road.

Instead of invigorating me, the cool night air seemed to weigh me down. "Too much oxygen to the brain," I told myself. But I was alert enough to see as I walked down the drive to the cottage, that all was dark and no car was there. "Sheeeet," I said when I saw nothing. "They must have gone out!"

Fortunately, I knew which fake rock held the key to the front door and entered the darkened cottage. Now, I keep saying cottage, but it was more a house by the lake. You entered into the main floor which held a kitchen, a great room and the master bedroom for Linda and Mark. There was a stairway down to two bedrooms and a family room that opened onto a patio (covered by the deck off the great room) and a path down to the lake. During the off-season, the downstairs was closed to save on the heating bills. Guests – such as Chrissy and me – would take the stairs up off the great room to the loft above, which also served as a sleeping area. Worn out by the work of the week, and the walk, and with too much oxygen to my brain, I decided to go to the loft and sleep. Chrissy and Linda would be back shortly, I reasoned; after all, it was getting close to midnight.

A flash of brightness from the lights in the main room below roused me from my sleep. Through glazed eyes I glanced at the clock radio on the nightstand: 2:24. Though still half-asleep two thoughts entered my mind: "They stayed out to closing time!" and "I'd better get up and announce my presence, rather than waiting for Chrissy to come up to the loft and find a 'strange man' sleeping in her bed."

But then I heard a strange man speak, "Nice place you got here." And then another, "Got anymore beer?"

It was amazing, but those two voices brought me to alertness better than any bucket of cold water poured over my head.

I heard the sound of a search through the refrigerator and the "pop" of beer cans being opened. There were giggles. Then I heard Chrissy's voice, "Oh, that is nice."

"Come over here, sweetie, and sit by me," one of the men said.

There was no railing to the loft, but a built-in bookcase separated the loft from the vaulted area above the great room. Combined with the darkness of the upper level and the protection of the bookcase, I could easily look into the room below, undetected – which I did.

On the couch below, Chrissy and Linda sat in the middle, with the two strangers on either end. Each of the ladies was passionately kissing – and being kissed – by one of the men. They had locked their arms around the men's necks but I could see that the man, kissing Chrissy, was running his hand along the curve of her body, from thigh to mid-rib, and down again. After several circuits, the man's hand stopped at the upper point of its course and slid across my wife's chest to cup her breast.

With a low, "Mmmmmmm!" Chrissy broke off the kiss and laid her head on the back of the sofa. If there had been enough light – and her eyes had been open! – she would have been staring straight at me. She rolled her chest to encourage the stranger's fondling and he moved his lips to her neck.

Linda's giggles took my attention from my wife to her activities. The man she was with was even bolder than his friend. As he kissed my sister-in-law, he had inserted his hand between her legs and was cupping her crotch. His palm was at the base of the zipper on her jeans and his fingers wrapped over the seam that separated the pant legs. Because they had slid down on the couch, I had a clear view as he squeezed on her. The ball of his hand must have been pushing hard against her mons and his fingers pushed the jean's seam into her "seam." Indeed, without the jeans, his fingers would have been pushing deep into her inner sanctum. Linda rocked her hips upward each time he applied pressure.

I looked back to see that Chrissy's shirt was open and her fellow had moved his lips to her breasts. The hand that had massaged her breast, was now gliding over her flat stomach and his fingertips slipped beneath the waistline of her jeans, further and further with each pass. When his entire hand was in her jeans, he stopped the caresses to her stomach. Chrissy pulled her stomach muscles tight and raised her hips to allow free access.

Suddenly, the man with Linda shifted position, sliding off the couch and kneeling between her knees. He reached up and undid the button on her jeans and pulled down the zipper. Then, with Linda's lifting her hips from the couch, he pulled the jeans down, revealing her white, nylon panties. As he paused to untie her shoes and pull them off, Linda sat on the edge to the couch and pulled her stylish T-shirt over her head; then she reached behind her back to unclasp and remove her bra. The man quickly removed her jeans and panties. Completely naked, she again laid back on the couch, her knees apart, a man other than her husband on the floor between her legs.

Now, I've seen my sister-in-law many times in her bikini and, I have to admit, wondered what was hidden behind those small patches of material. What was revealed did not disappoint. Her breasts were round and firm. I didn't see any tan lines and could only assume that on some of the warmer days to the cottage, when there were no guests, she had sunbathed topless. Her nipples were dark, not much bigger that a quarter. They were taut and capped with what looked like a pencil eraser. Three inches below her navel began an area of pale skin (evidently she only went topless!) and, an inch below that, her pubic area was well trimmed – two inverted triangles, white inset with dark, that pointed the way to my fanaticized joys. I almost gasped out loud at the sight of her, but caught myself; I could not, however, keep my cock from moving from a semi-rigid to a rigid condition, pressing hard against the sweatpants I wore.

Linda's buddy from the bar must have been feeling the same pressure for he rose, undid his shirt as he kicked-off his shoes, and pulled down pants and underwear at the same time. His cock bounced free from its confines. Linda reached up from her reclining position to slide her slender fingers along the length of his bobbing member. The man savored the touch of the woman, then knelt down and buried his face deep between her legs to savor her taste.

Chrissy and her new-found friend had broken free from each other to watch. She turned to him and said, "Let's see what you've got." That's all the encouragement it took for he was quickly on his feet and stripped down to his birthday suit.

I have to admit that I wasn't all that impressed by either of these fellows' endowments. Neither had a monster cock like I've seen on some internet sites. And, in all humility, I think that if a ruler was placed by the three of us, I would have come out ahead. But that being said, here they were, naked before my wife and sister-in-law, living what was only a fantasy to me.

Chrissy now leaned forward to grasp this guy's cock and pull him close to her. He stepped forward to let her take him into her mouth. From my vantage point, I could only see the back of her head, but since she only rolled it from side to side, and not backwards and forward, I assumed that she wasn't deep-throating him, but only lathering the head with lips and tongue. Either way, she was getting a good taste of his pre-cum. Closed-eyed, softly moaning, I knew he was enjoying it.

Linda's friend was ready for something new. He raised his head from between her legs and slid forward so that their hips were in a direct line. She was so wet and ready that there was no resistance as with one hard thrust, he plunged every inch of his cock into her. She gasped. He began to rock back on forth and, from this vantage point, I could see his slick member coming and going, back and forth, deep and hard. On one backstroke, he withdrew a little too far and slipped out of her. I could hear Linda whine, like a kid who has dropped her ice cream cone. He fumbled quickly with his cock to get it back into position and pushed inside her once more. Linda gave a sigh of relief.

At the other end of the couch, I could hear the other fellow say to my wife, "Let's get these clothes off." And without a word, she pushed him back, stood, and quickly disrobed. I looked down at her. After fifteen years of marriage I still thought she had a gorgeous body, smooth, toned, and perfect. So what if she was about to let another guy screw her – she looked hot!

She started to sit back down, but the guy reached out to take her hand and turn her around. He pushed her forward so that she knelt on the couch with her elbows on the back, propping-up her upper body. The guy ran his hand along her slit. At one point he must have slipped a finger insider her because I saw her tense. Then he raised that hand to his face and took a deep whiff.

That was enough foreplay! He stepped back, took aim, and pushed his cock into my waiting wife. He began to thrust so hard, I thought he was going to put her head through the wall behind the couch.

Linda, lying beside her sister, extended a hand. I couldn't see exactly what she did, but it must have been a caress of Chrissy's breast, or a tweak to her nipple. Either way, Chrissy enjoyed it with a very audible, "Yes!" Then she reached down – and I could see this – to softly strok her sisters bare breast. Linda could only moan.

Chrissy's lover began to spasm. But before he could release his load, she said, "Don't you dare!" and pushed him back from her. She stood and this time directed him to lie back on the couch. Then she straddled him and lowered herself on the ready-to-go cock.

WOT is Chrissy's favorite position. She likes being able to control the depth and intensity of our love-making. And I like it too. To see her sitting astride of me, her long blonde hair hanging and down, her breasts bouncing in rhythm to her gyrations, and her hips grinding against me – it just couldn't be any better. Sensing the climax of her paramour, and not wanting to be left on the verge, Linda copied her sister's actions.

What a bird's eye view I had, as the two strangers lay partially on, partially off the couch, the two sisters each straddling one, moving to a rhythm expressed only by the grunts and gasps of the men!

Then I heard the beginning of the climax. "Oh, God," Chrissy said as she threw her head back. I could see the corners of her mouth tuned up into a smile, her breasts vibrating as her orgasm shot through her body. She must have clamped her vaginal muscles hard on the guy's cock – she always did mine – and pull hard on him. He let his own expletives fly as his hips bucked, once, twice, three times, against my wife. She fell forward, draping her body over his. This was all it took for the other couple as they two shouted and shook, the man's semen shooting deep into her. Then she collapsed over her lover inhaling deep breaths of air.

The four remained in this tableau for a minute before the ladies climbed off the two men. I saw the men's cocks, glowing red but now flaccid, white fluid dripping from the tips. The women stood before the men, who smiled. I imagined that they saw their cum smeared through the women's pubic hairs and running down the inside of their thighs.

Their objectives achieved, Linda said to the men, "It's been great guys, but I think you'd better be leaving now."

"Suppose you want some more?" one asked.

"Once is enough. And we've got a busy day tomorrow." Chrissy was gathering up the clothes and handing them to the men. There wasn't going to be any further discussion, no changing of the mind.

The women stood there naked as the men dressed. Naked, they showed them to the door.

"God, that was fun," said Linda as she shut the door behind her departing guests. "If Mark doesn't come up next week, I'm going to go to that bar again."

"Yeah, it was fun," Chrissy answered, "but...." I could see her shake her head. When she spoke again, she said, "I have to clean up. I'll use the bathroom downstairs." Chrissy made her way to the downward stairway.

"We can talk tomorrow," Linda said as she started towards the master bath.

This was it. If I didn't want to get caught as a peeping Tom, I'd better make my move now. I quickly threw the bedspread over the bed – rumpled, but it would have to do. I grabbed my bag and shoes, and tip-toed down the stairway. I could hear the shower in the master bath. The exit was a straight dash across the room ... and I was out of there, shutting the door softly behind me. Once out, I retraced my steps up the drive and back to the car. I glanced at my watch to see that it was just after 4:30 am. The whole affair had lasted only an hour or so!

I called the emergency road service provided by my insurance company and waited – two hours – for the tow truck to come and pull me out of the ditch. I did a U-turn and headed back to the interchange of the country road and interstate, where they had several fast food places. It might have ticked the manager off a bit, but I nursed a rubbery egg sandwich and several cups of coffee for another couple of hours. (I did get to read the paper and finish the crossword puzzle.) Then, I hoped back in my car and drove to the cottage. It was about 9:00 when I arrived.

I knocked until a blurry-eyed Chrissy stumbled down from the loft. "Surprise!" I said as she opened the door to me. "I was going to try to get up last night, but couldn't get out of the office until it was too late. I tried to call you on your cell."

"Oh," she mumbled, "I must have turned it off."

"So I thought I'd come up first thing this morning. I didn't want you having too much fun without me."

A recollection of a few hours ago must have passed through her thoughts; I glimpsed a blush of red in her cheeks. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I never have fun without you."

"And I want to make sure it stays that way. You were right; I haven't been much fun lately. I've been neglecting you; but I'm going to change, starting right now. Heck, I don't want you running off and picking up some stranger in a bar."

"Oh," she said, "you don't have to worry about that."

"Right," was my reply, as I wrapped my arms around her for a big hug. "That's something I never have to worry about."