Trials at the cabin

After bathing in the lake, we dried off. Cuddled naked in bed. Fucked again. Then fell asleep.

I woke up first. Pissed in the woods. Restarted the fire. Got eggs and bacon going on the skillet.

Amanda came tip-toeing out of the cabin, making her way to the outhouse. When I said “Good morning” she growled, “Don’t look at me.”

She out of the outhouse. Unhappy. Scrubbing her hands with sanitizer. She sat by the fire looking groggy. “Did you make coffee?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know how.”

She grabbed a kettle, filled it with water, set it above the fire. “When I rented a cabin, I didn’t except it to feel like camping. Camping was always the worst part of camp.”

“You seem grumpy. I would’ve assumed you were a morning person.”

She narrowed her eyes, “I just had to shit in a hole. It hurts to walk. I love having sex with you, but your penis is really big and my vagina is really sore. And I need coffee to function but there are no outlets in the cabin because I rented a cabin without electricity or plumbing like a dumbass.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. This place is great. We’ll relax on the sex to give you time to recover. And your water is boiling, I assume that means coffee is close.”

I could see her biting back her retort. She just grabbed the hot pot and tried to make coffee by pouring the hot water through grinds in a filter. The color in her cup didn’t look quite right. She drank it without sugar or cream. Just got brownish water.

It gave her some politeness back. “Thank you for breakfast.”

We ate looking over the lake. Silence between us. Neither is ready to admit that a week in this place would be seven days too long.

I stood up, “Let’s get dressed and head into town. But not just for supplies. Let do something fun.”

“Something with air conditioning,” Amanda stated. While she had lived out of motels and summer camped in Maine, she was a city girl at heart. She needed some glimpse of civilization.

She let me drive her BMW. Winced when I ground the gears, but kept her pretty mouth shut. Just directed me at each intersection.

We found a store. Bought supplies.

We found a bowling alley. Paid 25 cents per game. The pins were candle sticks. We hucked fist sized cannon balls down the lane at them.

We argued over what movie to see: my first R rated movie in a theater experience. She wanted to see United 93. Even know she was away in Mississippi, 9/11 had a big impact on her as a New Yorker. I wanted something lighter: a comedy about a NASCAR driver. We settled on the Devil Wears Prada. Every time Anne Hathaway came on screen, I nudged Amanda asking if that was her little sister.

We came out of the theater, the sun already starting to set. We knew we had another night of darkness. Luckily we had bought lanterns, bug repellent, a battery powered radio, and a plump mattress topper.

The headlights lit up the cabin. Our home.

We unpacked. Set the our life together.

Amanda wrapped her hands behind my neck. Looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been a crank today. It’s just not what I expected. I wanted this to be a good environment to test our compatibility. Not a stress test for my sanity.”

I kissed her, “If we can make it through this week, we can make it through the rest of our lives.”

I lifted her. Carried her to bed.

No expectations of sex. I pulled off her pants. Ate her pussy like an expensive meal, taking my time, enjoying every savory lick. She laid back. Released her tension. Let her self relax. Didn’t even try to stifle her moans. Let them echo through the night.

When I was done, I washed my face with the water from the pump. Brushed my teeth. Crawled into bed.

She cuddled up to me. Rested her head on my chest. Sighed, “Tomorrow will be better.”

I woke up with my cock in her mouth.

Her head bobbed under the blanket. Her warm wet mouth slurred up spit off my shaft.

I groaned, “Mmm babe. What a way to wake me up.”

She didn’t respond. Just kept sucking. Focused on the process. Results would take care of themselves.

She was rewarded with a mouthful of cum.

She crawled up and kissed me. My taste still on her tongue. She smiled, “I’ve always wanted to do that, but it felt too much like sexual assault.”

“You can suck my cock anytime you want. Even if I’m laying in a casket, have at it.”

She smacked my chest playfully, “So morbid.”

Her head back on my chest. We fell asleep.

Up with the sun, I cast into the still lake. Caught two fish. That was enough.

I started to debone them.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

“My grandpa. He would take us fishing in the evenings. Mom hated it because it would cut into Bible study time. I loved it for the same reason.”

She rubbed my back, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile talking about growing up.”

“My grandpa was amazing. Unfortunately when he died, things got tighter. Less fishing, more praying.”

“I think he’d be proud seeing you provide a meal using the skills he taught you.”

I smiled, “He’d be prouder that I ran away. He was always telling me the world was a big place. Do anything I could to see it.”

We ate grilled fish for breakfast. Amanda got a little better at making coffee.

We laid by the lake all day. Swam. Read. Fucked.

I was getting more used to seeing Amanda naked than in clothes. She was wild and free. No plans. No itinerary. Just living in the moment.

What other 38 year old is getting lotion rubbed all over her body by an 18 year old stud?

I could see the tension release from her body. Her termination after 15 years of great work. Her dis-engagement after 10 years of loyalty. The anxiety about the future. She stopped worrying about what she would do next.

She stirred the pot of beans, we had cooking the whole day. Naked, sunburnt, dirty, bug bit. Brunette hair a tangled mess. A completely different side of the woman and I was still in love with her.

She glanced up at me staring at her, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry. You’re sexy and very naked.”

“That’s not how you’re looking at me. You look like you’re about to get down on one knee.”

“I would if I knew you were going to say Yes.”

“Let’s make it through the test week.”

“It’s only one more night,” I said. “You don’t have any preliminary results.”

“Hmm. I think we’ve had more sex this week than I had my entire ten year relationship with my ex. You’ve flipped me, bent me and fucked me every way possible.”

“There’s more ways, I bet. I’m still new at this.”

She rolled her eyes. 58 girls and I was still acting like a virgin. “You’re caring. You’re a provider. You do the dishes. You can handle me before I’ve had my coffee.”

That was a polite way of saying that Amanda could be a huge bitch when she was tired and hungry. I weathered the storm. I had lots of experience knowing when not to talk back.

She nodded, “What about me? It can’t be about my looks. I already know how you feel about my body. Your tongue has traced every inch of it.”

I thought, “I like that you plan, but are willing to adapt. I like that you teach me things. I like that you don’t look at me like I’m weird. You try to understand.”

“I think I am understanding you more,” Amanda said. “You’re still strange, but I understand the strangeness.”

I held her hand, “We’ll see what tonight brings, but I don’t think a week together is long enough.”

She squeezed, “I agree. We’ll determine what the next step is.”