Cynthia flipped through the pages of her romance novel. Her legs shifted; she began to feel her arousal from the steamy story in between her legs. She sat on an old chair that would creak every time she laid back in it. Her eyes darted up to give her a brief reprieve. She tried to cool herself off and began admiring the beautiful view that her soon-to-be father-in-law's lakeside cabin offered her.
Cynthia was a software engineer that often worked from home, so when he asked her to watch their summer getaway it was an easy decision. However, if she had any idea that the internet was going to be so slow that it would take her twice as long to make any progress, she would have been more inclined to invite her fiancée and treat it as a much-needed vacation. Despite the recent engagement, their relationship was on the rocks; no issues that any other couple doesn't encounter: one person feels like they are contributing more, the other feels like their job comes first, and worst of all: lack of sexual attention. Perhaps it was Cynthia's age that made it feel like she was meant to be married, in her early thirties she was a bit of an outlier in her friend group, as she was the only one that wasn't wearing a ring on her finger.
Cynthia pulled herself up, setting her book down on the table. Her brown hair cascaded down her petite, but angular face and flowed down to her shoulders. She had a tight body, but it was not without its curves. Her hips were shapely, and her backside put her modest chest to shame. As Cynthia admired the beautiful sights her sundress rippled in the cool breeze the late summer air offered.
The young woman let out a sigh as her mind shifted the attention from the book, as it turns out the time to herself was more than appreciated. She took a sip out of her glass of wine and set it back down on the table with her book and noticed that the dirt was being swept up along the dirt road. She peered down the horizon and saw a pick-up making its way down. She wasn't expecting visitors, but the road to the cabin was quite long and it was unlikely that someone would have made a wrong turn.
Before Cynthia had time to think the truck was already pulling to a stop; she rested her hand against the railing and looked down at it from the step. Inside was a blue-collar man, maybe a little younger than her. The man cracked the door of his truck and planted his work boots onto the dirt driveway; he was wearing jeans and a short sleeve button-up shirt. He was clearly in shape, not much taller than Cynthia and he had a similar sharp jawline. He was growing a bit of stubble, and his green eyes were so bright that she could see them from the deck. His scrappy brown hair was at a medium length and swept back. His charming smile turned Cynthia's caution upside down and she couldn't help but smile back.
Cynthia stood and her blunt personality kicked in, "Can I help you at all?" She asked as she crossed her arms in a stand-offish stance.
The man let out a light chuckle, "Well to be honest I was going to ask you that same thing, I'm the landscaper here. My name is Jack, and I take care of the grounds, usually when the owners are away on the off-season."
"Oh!" Cynthia said in shock, "I had no idea, Mr. Barrett just asked me to stay and watch it over the fall."
Jack's mischievous smile gave away that he enjoyed the view of this delectable woman. He pulled a pair of black leather gloves out of his back pocket, "So I'll just get to work then, never you mind me."
Cynthia smiled and went back to her creaky chair and cracked open her bawdy novel. The handsome man in her story was now replaced by this charming Jack. Her mind was devoid of any mention of her fiancée as she delved deeper into her book. She found her hand wanting to wander her body, but the thought of the young man seeing her scared her, or did it excite her?
She continued to read, but she pictured him once more and her imagination only helped stroke the foreign desire in her loins. She was dripping wet; Cynthia had never been so excited in such a long time, and it was all the help of a dashing stranger that replaced the bland character in her book. Before long, her willpower was slashed away, and she found her left hand ever so gently caressing her breasts through the thin fabric of her sundress.
The unmistakable sound of the lawn equipment running behind the cabin told Cynthia that she was safe for a moment; her hand glided its way down her body to her thighs, and her fingers worked their way up and pulled aside the damp fabric. Her heart pounded away with the thrill of being caught by Jack, she imagined what exactly she would do if he saw her, would she recoil away or just freeze up and let him make a move, she wondered.
Her eyes were shut, but the motor was still running, and she felt confident, for the first time in ages. She practically threw her book down; her fingers explored her dripping sex with a sense of urgency and the other hand grabbed at her stiffened nipples. Cynthia bit her lips while imagining Jack's response, she fantasized about him ripping her dress off and taking her at once in the old chair. She thought about his damn smirk and how much she'd love to shove it down between her legs, but most of all she thought about his lips and how they would feel on hers.
Cynthia could feel the pressure building up; she was getting closer to a release that she had been begging for, for months. Just as the woman imagined Jack biting her lower lip in an enthusiastic exchange of kisses, she reached her peak. Cynthia's hips shot up as she stifled a moan and wave after wave of pleasure rolled over the woman's body. The voice of the young man ripped her out of her bliss.
--
Jack unbuttoned his shirt as the heat started to get to him. His lips were parched, and he had left his water around the front of his truck. He reached down to shut down the motor but halted as he remembered that the engine was sometimes quite the hassle to get going; he decided against it and instead hopped off to make his way around the cabin. Jack's mouth dropped as he rounded the corner; he spotted the delightful image of Cynthia tweaking her nipple through her fabric.
He at once felt the blood in his body rush downwards. Jack moved back and continued watching through the rails on the deck. He shifted uncomfortably in his jeans, reorienting his hard cock while he discovered the delight of voyeurism. The craving he felt wasn't for the bottle of water sitting in his cab; instead, it had shifted to this little exhibitionist. As Cynthia continued her show, Jack watched on with animalistic hunger.
An unseen force hijacked the young man's body, he stepped forward from behind the corner of the cabin, and he got a much better view of the young woman as she worked herself over. Jack's cock throbbed at the sight of her; he was infatuated however he couldn't deny that a part of him also thought that she was doing this on purpose, to toy with him. It was rich, he thought, the little city slut manipulating the small-town boy, torturing him with her little show; just for her to take off and leave him high and dry. For a moment, Jack was furious with her. Perhaps this little slut wants to get found, he thought to himself. Perhaps she wants him to leap on top of that rickety chair and replace her fingers with his heavy cock, perhaps her moans would be better stifled with his cock. As if she could feel his depraved thoughts Cynthia bridged while not quieting down a moan of pleasure.
Jack looked down upon her like prey caught in a trap. Cynthia's awoke opened after a brief respite. Silently they looked into each other's eyes. She lifted herself to her feet and backed up, speechless; it was the hunger in his eyes that stole her voice. As Cynthia backstepped to the cabin door, Jack followed; with each step, she took he took another. Her heart started to drum, she couldn't pinpoint if the emotion that was flooding her brain was fear or excitement. Although what's the difference?
The assaulter was feeling something similar; the tension was driving him crazy. The young man leaped towards the woman; within a flash, he wrapped his right hand around her neck. Cynthia's staggered backward but was stopped by the closed door. He leaned forward; they were similar in height however she felt three feet tall now. He took in her scent, she smelt like the woods he had just come from. He found it intoxicating.
Cynthia wanted to give the man a firm knee and fight him off, she had self-defense training, and she wasn't a meek little girl. She could fight him. So why wasn't she, she wondered. When his hand gripped her neck the desire to resist washed away. The man smelt of sweat and gasoline, his clothes were dirty, and his gloves were coarse. Her legs were quaking with the pounding of her heart as they began to grow weak.
He leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. She didn't return the kiss, but her recoil was minimal. He planted another; the tension in her sharp lips began to break. The grip on her neck loosened and he leaned in again. Jack realized that he may have already been breaking her resolve; her lips moved to meet his. Jack's free hand was moved to her hip, feeling her warmth through the sheer fabric of her dress.
Cynthia's eyelids rolled closed as she returned the kiss. Internally, she was screaming at herself. The thrill of the encounter was more exhilarating than she had experienced in the past few years. Perhaps the fear was an aphrodisiac for her, or maybe that one kiss was more than her fiancée had given her in the past months. She wanted to push him off, but she couldn't deny herself the opportunity for such passion.
The kiss continued; Jack felt his arousal strain against his work jeans. His hand dropped from her neck to her hips, he held her small waist in place. Growing tired of her lack of participation, he released her lips and pushed her face aside as his mouth made its way to her neck as he roughly kissed her supple neck. A betraying moan escaped Cynthia's lips when she felt his tongue on her neck. Jack took advantage of her moment of weakness by wedging his knee in between her legs. He could easily overpower her, and yet he reserved his strength; he wanted her to want it or to fight him.
